#and write in sequin notebooks and glitter pens

[officialrickshades]

ricks shades to me is a 20 year old man but also a teenage girl

[captainmalewriter]

Miss Pigwin's Journal

Among the myriad of stereotypes surrounding gay men, Ivan never really fit into any of them. He was never the flamboyant queen nor the circuit party gay. Ivan always considered himself to be more of a lone wolf type. Although many would find the life of a social hermit boring and exhausting, Ivan truly didn’t mind his quiet, solitary lifestyle. Just class, work, gym, rinse and repeat. It was a simple routine, but it was one that Ivan loved. 

One evening, after his engineering classes, Ivan made a quick pit stop at the local store before heading back to his apartment. He needed to buy a new journal after he had filled out the last page the night before. Journaling was a hobby that Ivan took very seriously. For the past five or so years, Ivan would take 10 minutes every night to write his complete, unfiltered thoughts in his journal before bed. It was a therapeutic practice for Ivan, and he did not plan to stop anytime soon. 

Ivan was hoping to find a stylish yet relatively cheap journal but was quickly met with disappointment instead as he made his way down the stationary aisle. The store had completely run out of notebooks! A nearby employee told Ivan that the overnight crew would restock the store and that he should return the next day, but he was too determined to give up after having gone through the trouble of walking to the store. He scoured the store until he finally found one misplaced notebook, although its gaudy design left much to be desired…

It was a bright pink journal with glimmering sequins and came with a large bundle of pink ribbon. The journal had an ugly cartoon drawing of a pig in a princess dress along with her name ‘Miss Pigwin’ written in glitter across the top of the cover page. Ivan pulled out his phone and did a quick internet search to find out more about the Miss Pigwin notebook. Apparently, it was limited edition merchandise for some obscure children’s cartoon that never made it past 5 episodes. The idea behind Miss Pigwin was that kids could better understand their pets by helping them communicate with them. Kids were tie a piece of ribbon around an animal, and with Miss Pigwin's help, they would become their best friends. At least that was what the old advertisements promised anyway.

Obviously, the designers meant it to be used for pets like dogs and cats, so it was no wonder the pink journal was quickly discontinued after kids tried to tie ribbons around dangerous, wild animals instead. All in all, it was just cheap scraps of overly decorated paper for imaginative little girls. 

Ivan didn’t care much for the girly pink notebook. However, it was still a notebook at the end of the day, and the $5 price tag was too enticing to give up. He bought it and promptly returned to his apartment where his roommate Jesse was hosting a few of his frat friends over for beer pong. 

Ivan and Jesse were not friends but they were civil enough as roommates. Jesse wasn’t officially a part of a frat yet, but he already had the wild personality of a frat brother anyway. Jesse’s constant partying and drinking was annoying to Ivan, so he often made himself scarce—  as he did that night. He went about his usual nighttime routine and thankfully, by the time he sat down at his desk to journal, all of Jesse’s guests were gone. But just before he could touch pen to paper, Jesse came stumbling into the room.

“Hey, bro, you got any ribbon or string by any chance?” Jesse asked. Ivan hesitated saying yes right away.

“Maybe, what for?” 

“There’s this stupid Tiktok trend going on right now. Dudes are tying a piece of ribbon around their bicep and flexing until it breaks. The bros are saying I need to do every trend I see if I wanna continue rushing.”

“Cool, makes sense. Here, you can have it all. I don’t need it.”

Ivan took the bundle of ribbon that came with the Miss Pigwin journal and helped Jesse tie a piece around his bicep. Although Ivan did not like Jesse in that way, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited as he wrapped the ribbon around his straight roommate’s muscular arm. It was probably the only time he’d be that close to Jesse, so he relished in the moment as much as he could. Once it was tied, Jesse thanked him and left the room to record his Tiktok. Meanwhile, Ivan returned to his journal and began writing. 

March 12th - I am soo fucking h*rny. Sometimes, I wish my roommate would give in to his secret desires and just makeout with me already. 

Just as Ivan finished writing the last letter, a terrifying scream coming from the living room interrupted his journaling session. He quickly ran out with the pink journal in hand and saw Jesse straining himself to break the ribbon. No matter how hard he flexed, the pink ribbon stayed firmly wrapped around his bicep.

Although Ivan was worried about the pink ribbon constricting Jesse's arm, he couldn't help but stare at the massive bulge in his roommate's gray sweatpants. It was huge! Was Jesse hard? Ivan always had a feeling that his straight roommate was packing some serious heat downstairs, but he would've never guessed he'd be that big and thick! Just seeing his bulge was enough to make Ivan's jaw drop!

"Dude is this ribbon made out of fucking titanium or some shit! Where the fuck did you even get this!?" Jesse yelled out in anguish. It was enough to bring Ivan back down to Earth.

"I don't know! It came free with this weird notebook I found."

"Whatever!! Just go get the scissors! This shit's way too tight, my arm's starting to go numb!"

"Right! Hang on, I'll be right back!"

Uh oh!!

Just as Ivan turned around to go get the scissors, a sudden high-pitched voice made him stop dead in his tracks. It was a girl's voice, and it was coming from the notebook in his hands. Ivan looked down and froze from what he saw. The cartoon princess pig had come to life!

Uh oh!! It looks like our new friend isn't being a very good listener! Let's play some music to help clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing a melody while soft piano music played. The music had no effect on Ivan, but it did on Jesse. Jesse suddenly stopped fighting and just laid flat on the floor. Within seconds, he had gone from a pissed off jock trying to rip the ribbon off his arm to eerily calm and relaxed. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. Jesse had a dazed look in his eyes once he opened them. He had a dull, almost sleepy-like expression plastered on his face too. It was like he was sedated by simply listening to Miss Pigwin's song! Only once Jesse was fully relaxed did Miss Pigwin finally stop the music.

Yayyy!! No more distracting thoughts! Now what did our best friend tell us?

Ivan watched in awe as Jesse got up from the ground while massaging his protruding bulge. His movements were almost mechanical, like a mindless robot following orders. He then began walking towards Ivan while reciting what Ivan had written inside the Miss Pigwin journal.

"I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate."

It was incredible. Despite having never read it, Jesse kept repeating what Ivan had written over and over like a personal mantra!

Once Jesse closed the gap between them, Ivan got a good look how dilated his pupils were. It was quite the sight to see, though Jesse didn't give Ivan any time to react. Instead, he quickly joined his lips with Ivan's and kissed him roughly. Ivan was caught off guard by the surprise kiss but quickly matched Jesse's energy as the two kissed like it was their last night being alive. Ivan could hardly believe it. He had gone from merely tolerating his roommate's existence to making out with him in the same night! He felt himself light up with joy and pleasure as Jesse's hairy chest pressed against his with every kiss.

They continued at it for a while, locking lips until they gradually moved towards the couch. From there, they both discarded any remaining clothes they had on. Ivan hopped into Jesse's strong arms and went in for another deep kiss. He was shuddering with anticipation as he felt Jesse's rock hard boner tap against his butt. Luckily for him, it didn't take them much longer until they decided to get into position. Ivan spit onto Jesse's cock to lube it up, then guided it into his hole. A deep, sensual moan escaped his mouth as Jesse slowly thrusted his hips into him. Inch by inch, his dick disappeared into his ass. The room then filled with the sounds of men grunting and heavy, cum-filled balls clapping against Ivan's cheeks. Ivan was in heaven, while Jesse was in a trance with only one thought in his mind. Give into his desires, and makeout with his roommate.

Ivan woke up the next morning feeling like a brand new man after the amazing pounding he had received from Jesse. To say he was in a state of bliss would be a massive understatement! Even just remembering the feeling of Jesse's massive cock inside of him was enough to make Ivan smile with delight. But his grin quickly faded when he reached out for the Miss Pigwin journal and found it wasn't where he had left it before falling asleep. Even worse, he found a piece of pink ribbon had been tied around his wrist while he was sleeping.

"No... Nononono NOO!!"

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty! Looking for something?"

To Ivan's horror, Jesse was holding the Miss Pigwin journal and he looked furious! Although, despite the present danger, Ivan couldn't help but notice that Jesse still had the same ribbon tied around his bicep.

"Hey man... Let's put down the journal, and have a civilized conversation between adults. I promise it's not what it looks like, just let me ex-"

"Nahh FUCK that. I'm glad I woke up just before you did, otherwise I would've never found out what the fuck you did to me with this weird journal. You always gave me weird vibes but this? I... I don't even know where to start I'm so MAD!"

Jesse slammed a fist against the wall, startling Ivan. He then let out a maniacal chuckle as he pulled out a pen and opened the journal.

"Alright, Ivan, you wanna fuck up my mind so badly? Two can play at that game!"

Loud scribbling filled the room. Once he finished, Jesse read out loud what he wrote.

"Ivan's too serious for his own good. He needs to lighten up and join my frat so we can become best bros forever!!"

"...That's stupid. I'm not gonna do that."

"Are you sure?"

Uh oh!!

"I think Miss Pigwin might disagree with-"

Ivan smacked the book out of Jesse's hands, catching him off guard. The journal landed against the wall with a loud thud. Ivan wasted no time making a break for the journal. He bought himself a few seconds by smacking it away from Jesse. Those few seconds were all he needed to open the journal to a new page and write something down. In the heat of the moment, he could only think of one thing to write.

"Jesse's gay 4 me!"

"YOU FUCKER! ERASE THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!!"

Jesse grabbed the journal but Ivan had a tight grip on it. The two slammed into the nearby walls and furniture as they tried to wrestle it out of the other's hands. The Miss Pigwin journal was getting torn and crumpled up in the crossfire of their fight, but that didn't stop the princess from carrying out her sole purpose.

It looks- New friend- Good listener! Let's- Some music- clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing her soothing song, forcing both men into a hypnotic trance as they listened. They both fell to the ground screaming as the pink ribbons grew tighter around their bodies. They tried plugging their ears with their fingers, but it was already too late. The second they heard the first few notes of her song, Miss Pigwin was already deep within subconscious- ready to broadcast whatever was written in the journal directly into their brains. However, because the journal had gotten destroyed during the fight, Miss Pigwin's subliminal messaging turned out to be incredibly potent than usual.

Ivan fell back against the ground in a daze. He couldn't believe how discombobulated he was. It was like he was trapped underwater as he felt his mind beginning to clear of any and all thoughts. Ivan let out a heavy sigh as a powerful, cool calm filled his body. Soon enough, the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted to become a frat bro just like Jesse. Ivan repeated his new life mantra to himself as his mind became hyper focused on only one goal.

"I need to lighten up... I need to join a frat... I need to become best bros with Jesse..."

A lot of his engineering knowledge got wiped away from his mind to make room for his new personality. Mathematics and physics were replaced with workout regimes and a strong, itching need to drink and get laid. The partying lifestyle of the frat bro that once repulsed Ivan became as normal as breathing to the former homebody gay man. Ivan tried resisting against Miss Pigwin's conditioning. He tried reminding himself how much he loved a quiet night at home by himself. He tried recalling how much he hated loud, obnoxious men who did nothing but party and drink all night. But everytime he tried fighting against it, the little voice repeating his mantra grew louder and louder until all opposition was completely stamped out. Ivan had been reborn.

As he rose from the ground with an altered conscience and personality, the only thing on Ivan's mind was how to maximize his gains the next time he hit the gym. After all, how could he even dare to show his face around his frat brothers if he couldn't keep up with them in terms of bodybuilding?

Meanwhile, Jesse laid out sprawled on the ground as a calm stupor washed over his aggravated mind. Soon enough, his mind became a quiet place where only one thought remained.

"I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay... For Ivan..."

Jesse repeated the same sentence to himself until the words no longer felt foreign leaving his mouth. Soon enough, saying he was gay for Ivan felt as natural as saying his name. His desires to sleep with women melted away from his subconscious everytime he recited his new mantra.

Like Ivan, Jesse tried fighting against it. He tried remembering the taste and feel of a woman's touch, but it was no use against Miss Pigwin's powerful conditioning. His memories of being with women were quickly fading. In their place, a deep, profound love for his roommate-turned-loved began to take hold. Within minutes, Jesse wanted nothing more in life than to stand by his boyfriend's side and make sure he felt loved.

Once Ivan and Jesse woke up to their new personalities, Miss Pigwin finished her song, never to be heard from again due to the journal being in tatters. Jesse woke up with a headache and with a grinning Ivan by his side.

"Good morning my handsome boyfriend, how'd you sleep?"

"Amazing because I slept with you, my love." Jesse joined his lips against Ivan's. The two shared a deep kiss filled with passion, ending with a loud smack when they finally pulled apart.

"You ready for today? I can't wait to start the rushing process, then we can join together!" Ivan flashed a wide smile. Jesse wrapped his hands around Ivan's neck.

"The frat can wait till later. Right now, I want you all to myself."

He pulled Ivan in for another kiss. The two men then proceeded to fuck all morning, completely unaware of the strange circumstances that led them to that point. All thanks to a little princess pig on the cover of a bright pink notebook.

[worm-filled-carcass]

*writing with my strawberry scented, glitter pink gel pen in my rainbow themed, colour changing, glitter sequin notebook from smiggle* I think im losing my sense of self 😔

[stainandscribble]

Beyond Words(III)

Let Me Hold You Tight

Pairing: Jongdae (EXO Chen) X Reader

Genre: Jongdae Poet AU; angst; fluff

Summary: A poet reminiscences about his old lover and their relationship in his new anthology, reminding himself of the importance of sincerity, and that love words are just as important spoken aloud as they are printed on paper.

Word Count: 5935

PART 1    PART 2     PART 3

A/N: Love is a blessing everyone is deserving of, and Jongdae has been blessed twice: with someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with, and a child, who he himself referred to as a blessing. I wish him all the best. In light of this, I will be concluding this short series in the next part. I will not be writing for him anymore. (I know its march but this is set in December because it fits the timeline and plot)

------------

Space was the nothingness between two things, an unspoken barrier, a limitation that kept you from him. You had told him you needed space. You needed time. Jongdae respected that. He didn’t push you. He had given you as much space as you wanted. You didn’t move back into your shared apartment for three months, until November. You didn’t sleep in your shared bed until December began knocking on your windows with frosty fingers and chilly drafts. He didn’t push, and he hoped he didn’t seem uninterested. In truth, Jongdae was captivated. He had thanked the universe every time you walked out of your bedroom to have breakfast together. He had thanked whichever deities looked down on him every time he could hold you in his arms. The soft hues of his eyes never strayed from you. Since you had told him you still loved him you had watched in glee and relief the way his publisher glared at you. This time, you noticed Jongdae had put a lot of effort into making it work. He sat with you at dinner and indulged in your hobbies, not having you indulge in his. He tried painting with you, and you had hung the pieces above the couch; your piece, drawn and painted with skilled hands and sharp eyes, his with the enthusiasm of a beginner. 

“I think this looks quite good, don’t you?” He asked, brown eyes twinkling as he looked over his masterpiece, although incomparable in skill to your own, still in his eyes, it was an achievement. To Jongdae it was a physical manifestation of the fact he was trying, and you had accepted his hard work. He turned his gaze to look at you, lips curled into a Cheshire-like grin, eyes following the trail of yellow paint smeared over your forehead and the pastel pink colouring your right cheek. 

“You should go into abstract painting.” You turned to look at him, lips mimicking his grin as your eyes trailed his clear face, bare of the paint you ended up covered in. He turned away from your wandering eyes.

“What do you want to watch now?” Jongdae turned on the TV and started flicking through the channels. There was a lightness in his tone; one that you had noticed only recently, since you moved your things back into the shared bedroom. It was clear he was happy. You would have been lying if you said you were not sharing in his happiness. 

“It’s winter sports season. I wanted to watch figure skating championships.” You answered, turning your back to the bright paintings that now decorated your living room. The only other decoration this bright in your home was a vase of purple hyacinths standing on the kitchen island. Since you moved back in, Jongdae had brought you a bouquet every fortnight. You appreciated the gesture, but you were also fed up of the unspoken apology. Your eyes fell on his hand curled around the tv remote, free from any stains. Since he apologised you had never seen him with any ink staining his fingers. 

It was something you wanted when you were breaking up because those stains reminded you that you were cast aside and disregarded in favour of his publisher and a pad of paper. It was no longer the case. His clean hand curled around the remote, flicking through channels for what you wanted to watch, and you no longer felt disregarded. You hoped he felt the same way; hoped that he was as happy as you were. 

“They are on today?” He asked, walking over to sit on the couch. 

“Yeah.” You went to sit on the couch beside him, as he sprawled out, leaning against the armrest. Some moments still felt new, as if your relationship was only beginning, and you supposed in some way it was. It was a new start, a chance to fix previous mistakes, give each other a chance to be better. In some respects, after being away from him for so long, you felt a little shy. That was why you sat a space away from him now. 

“Do we have a sport’s channel?” He asked, still flicking through the channels before he handed you the remote in frustration. 

“We should have. I was in our deal.” You told him, looking through the channel guide to find the sports channel. When you finally found it the competition was starting, and the first skater was about to go on the ice. Their dress was beautiful, embroidered with gems and sequins on the delicate fabric, and their routine was breath-taking, along with the scrape of blades against the ice rink. 

Jongdae motioned for you to move closer, his hand outstretched in your direction, intertwining his slender fingers with yours. With his encouragement, you moved closer, comfortably pressing yourself into his side as his other hand reached for a blanket under the coffee table. He wrapped the fuzzy thing around the two of you, keeping you warm and cosy. 

“It’s so pretty.” Jongdae whispered when the skater landed a triple axel. The soft instrumental music in the background was broken by the profound sound of her metal skates hitting the ice. You flinched, and Jongdae smiled, wrapping an arm tighter around you. 

“And terrifying.” You whispered, making him chuckle. 

The two of you continued watching, your cheek pressed against his shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him, enjoying his warmth, and the smell of his cologne. For a moment, you were completely at peace, right where you belong. In Jongdae’s arms. 

You were so comfortable in Jongdae’s arms, at one point your cheek fell from his shoulder to his chest, his heart beating steadily in your ear. As the warmth completely consumed you, the last thing you remembered was being wrapped up in Jongdae’s arms as the announcer called out a double salchow. You did not remember going back to bed, nor Jongdae carrying you to bed.

I asked you what love is

And you answered,

That love is many things,

And that I must find love for myself.

Because love to me,

May not be love to you.

During December it had been cold and dreary, having you both in low spirits as you counted the days down to Christmas. Over the holiday period, he wrote all notes and lists with glitter gel pens and stuck them around the kitchen. You thought it was endearing, he thought it was hilarious. For the first week of December, the strange process of waking up beside another person was awkward. Sometimes you woke up on opposites sides of the bed, as far away as the bed would allow. Other times, you woke up in a tangle of limbs with your bodies twisted unnaturally, necks and backs aching for the rest of the day. It was pleasant A change you both welcomed because it meant moving forward, and the pace was irrelevant to the goal you sought out in the end.

Today was one of those days you woke up twisted, sweaty from the thick duvet and body heat. Last night you had fallen asleep on the couch, and now you were waking up in your bed, face pressed into the crook of Jongdae’s neck. 

“Mornin’” You muttered. Your eyes, still blurry from sleep, made out the deep brown of Jongdae’s eyes looking down at you, a small content smile curling his lips. 

“Good morning.” He answered, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

Jongdae woke up, the soft rays of cool winter sunlight streamed through the window, kissing your face as he watched. Soon, you stirred awake, eyes half-closed as you murmured a greeting. He kissed your forehead, pressing himself closer. 

“I love you.” He murmured into your skin, the confession hung in the air unanswered and heavy as he watched you tentatively, seeing sunlight reflect in your eyes and the morning flush bloom on your cheeks. The split-seconds it took you to answer seemed like an eternity for him, a sweet eternity he was willing to wait every time. 

When you answered, there was no hesitance in your voice, and Jongdae thought he was willing to wait an eternity if it meant that at the end he could hear you say it again.

“I love you too.”

The words rattled his bones, like the shaking of reverberating thunder. He had always thought you were a storm. You had always proven him correct. He wanted to stay like this forever, in this moment, and his fingers ached to feel you against them. He stroked your hair, pulling it out from your eyes, giving him a clearer view of your face. His fingers ached for pen and paper too, and it was almost painful not reaching over for it, lying just on the bedside table. He refrained. 

You began moving, getting ready to stand up, and he followed you, sitting up, letting the duvet fall.

“What do you want for breakfast?” You asked, getting out of bed.

“Cereal.” Jongdae mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he got up. You walked out into the kitchen, leaving him to make the bed. His eyes kept falling on the notebook and paper lying on the bedside table, his desire too strong to ignore, and before he knew it he was sitting on the freshly made sheets, writing away, the pen gliding effortlessly guided by his hand. The words formed on their own, and he didn’t see you walk in, ready to call him over, before you stopped in the doorway, watching with fond eyes as he bent his back over the low surface. Maybe if he had seen you there would be less guilt eating at him later. Maybe if he saw you, you would be able to reassure him. He was not meant to fit into your mould. You were meant to learn to fit together, each a separate piece of a puzzle that together would form a picture. Jongdae had learned from his mistakes, but he had yet to find the balance necessary for both of you.

--------------

Once he emerged from the bedroom, he avoided your gaze, and you could not help but feel the need to talk. And so, you did. You too had learned from your mistakes and knew that you had to make your desires clear, more forceful.

“Jongdae,” You called , and he turned his head away from his cereal to look at you.

“Yes?” He gave you a small smile, his brown eyes gazing at you softly as he played with the softened cereal in his bowl.

“You don’t have to hide away and wait until I’m gone.” You told him, referring to the incident that had transpired moments before. 

The spoon he was playing with fell from his fingers. You could see the dark ink on his fingers, small smudges decorating his hands like constellations. A smile formed on your lips, tight-lipped and rueful, but still, it was a smile, and you were both learning a balance and compromise all over again. 

“Just remember you have a life too, outside of pen and paper.” You watched his stare at you with wide eyes, part astonishment and part fear swirling in the kaleidoscope of browns. He leaned back in his chair; the soft smile he wore now replaced with concern. 

“I never asked you to stop writing. I asked you to talk to me.” You reminded him, voice firm but soft, as you gazed at his hands as he fidgeted with his fingers, rubbing against the ink-stained skin. 

“I feel like that was all I used to do.” He confessed, looking down at his hands. You walked up to him and leaned against the table.

“You are a poet. That’s not going to change. I don’t want it to change.” You took hold of his hands, stopping him from rubbing away at his skin. You could tell he was nervous; you did the same thing when you were. You manoeuvred yourself to sit in his lap and he let you, hands grasping firmly to your sides, thumbs massaging soothing circles on your waist. 

“Keep the ink stains.”

His heart leapt in his chest, the strange feeling of guilt, as if he had done something wrong, began to vanish, and with every caress, it lessened as if washed away by water. You pressed a kiss into his hair, murmuring the same thing as before. He reciprocated your affection in kind, kissing you with a newfound enthusiasm as happy tears burned the back of your eyes. 

“Keep the ink stains.”

So, I decided to find it for myself,

What made my heart race,

- beating against my ribs like the bars of a cage. 

What made my breath shake,

- hitch in my throat and never reach its home in my lungs.

What made my mind reel,

- play the film of you frame by frame like old cinema.

Later that day, as evening settled upon the bustling city, Jongdae busied himself pulling out the contents of your storage space. Behind the hoover and various bits and bobs, you had put away all your Christmas decorations, and now it was the time of year again from Jongdae to make a mess in the corridor by taking them out. He succeeded eventually, and you helped him put everything back in its spot. You two had gone out earlier to get a Christmas tree, a small living one that fir in the corner of the living room. 

Jongdae put on the multicoloured fairy lights, as you began putting on various baubles. Some were plastic, others were made of glass, and reflected the light like little mirrors. 

Once you were finished, you lit up scented candles and curled up with a mug of hot chocolate on the sofa. Jongdae sat on the opposite end, typing away at his keyboard as he sent out work emails and drafts. 

He just finished working on a short story for a Christmas special anthology by his publishing company, along with multiple other writers. Despite the workload, he still baked cookies and helped out around the house and went out on multiple errands like the grocery shop and the post office.

In the background, soft instrumentals played through your speaker. After about an hour, the peaceful atmosphere was broken by the sound Jongdae’s laptop falling to the floor. You rose from the couch and picked it up, making sure nothing had happened to it. Taking a glance at Jongdae, you noticed his closed eyes and even breathing. He had fallen asleep with his laptop on his lap, and it had fallen once he started moving in his sleep.

You put the laptop on the coffee table and pulled out the fluffy blanket from underneath, draping in over Jongdae as he slept. You tried positioning him so that he would lay down fully on the sofa. 

“Goodnight.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead before extinguishing the lit candle and walking back to your bedroom to get ready for sleep.

Once you emerged from the bathroom, you were greeted by the sight of Jongdae smiling sleepily at you as he finished putting on his pyjamas. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” was the last thing he said before climbing into bed. You did the same, curling onto your side, allowing Jongdae to drape his arm over your middle and thread his fingers through yours.

I found what made my heart ache, 

- the look in your eyes when you spoke about the things you love.

What made my breath hitch

- the way your fingers ghosted over my own before your hand found its way into mine. 

What made my mind come to a standstill.

- when the film ended and you walked away, and the flowers on the windowsill withered away. 

A week passed, and Christmas was coming fast upon the two of you. No real plans have been made, and Jongdae’s parents were insisting you both to visit over the holidays. Your parents said nothing, and since they had never explicitly invited Jongdae to visit with you for Christmas, still being stand-offish towards him. You understood them, and he didn’t push to visit them with you. 

Hence why you were now sitting by the table, eating your breakfast and looking over your calendar.

“Are we going to go separately?” Jongdae asked. It was time to decide what you were going to do, as time was ticking, and your parents, both yours and Jongdae’s, had been pestering you for answers.

“I haven’t thought about that.” You spoke, munching on your second bowl of cereal. 

“My parents have been asking if I’m taking you.” He told you, pouring himself milk in his first bowl of cereal. He had just rolled out of bed, hair a mess and coffee in hand. You watched him, the winter sun, bathing him in light, making him look ethereal. His features appeared sharper; a morning blush flushed his cheeks. He smiled softly at you as you watched him. He enjoyed having your eyes on him and the feel of your eyes scanning over him, invisible fingers caressing paths over his features. 

“My parents didn’t ask.” He heard you whisper, and his heart tightened listening to your hushed voice. He smiled at you, trying to lighten your spirits.

“They still don’t like me?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Watching me live at home for half a year wasn’t pleasant.”

“Maybe we can split it up? One day with your parents. Then one day with mine.” Jongdae reasoned, sipping on his coffee. You nodded, watching him, eyes scanning over his face, falling on his Adam’s apple. 

“I’m all yours. No need to stare.” He smiled at you, and you smirked, leaning over the table to peck his lips. 

“Have you gotten presents for your mother yet?” You asked him, returning to your breakfast. 

“No.” He answered, reaching over to fill his bowl with another helping of cereal. You passed him the milk standing on your side of the table.

“Me neither.” You told him. “What were you going to get her?” You asked, wondering whether you should bring a gift of your own if you were going to split your time between both sets of parents. 

“Perfume, chocolates. That is what she likes.” He answered between spoonfuls of cereal. 

“What perfume are you going to get her?” You asked, wondering about your humble gift to your mum.

“She likes Chanel, and I know she is about to finish one of her bottles.” He just shrugged; eyes turned to look at you. Your shoulders were hunched as you rested your head in your hands.

“My mum wanted a new electric mixer. One of the fancy ones, since her one is living out it's last days.” You told him, and he nodded, promising to take you to a store that sells kitchen utensils.

----------

Later that day, he walked around with you, sipping on bubble tea as you browsed through the shopping centre, electric whisk in a bag hanging off your arm as you looked for a perfume shop that carried the fragrance Jongdae wanted.

At one point, he left you alone, telling you to go get cake, as he disappeared in the mass of people doing last minute Christmas shopping.

You were left in a Starbucks, finishing your bubble tea and a slice of cake you ordered. 

-----------

 Jongdae walked away, leaving you in Starbucks as he rushed through the crowd of people towards the jeweller. Once he got into the quiet store, he was greeted by the worker, who happily showed him what he was looking for, before packing it in a pretty box. 

Jongdae thanked her, before tucking the box away into his bag, hiding it so that you would not find it.

With a smile on his lips that caused them to turn up at the corners, and turn his eyes into slits, he walked back to where you were waiting, finishing your cake and tea.

You waved at him, ushering him to your table, allowing him to sit down before asking your questions.

“Where did you go?”

“I needed to check if I was getting the right perfume. I didn’t want to get the same one dad was getting her.” He told you, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt. His heart skipped a beat when you nodded your head and picked up your bags. You didn’t question him any further, and he was thankful for that.

“Come, we still need to get her present.”

It was all you. 

How could you say that what is love to you,

May not be love to me,

When my love

Is you.

Christmas eve rolled around, and the next day you were going to spend Christmas day with Jongdae’s parents. Tonight, you were with your parents. Jongdae was slowly making amends with your mother, as your parents accepted that he was back in your life, and you hoped that this time it was for good. 

“Jongdae, would you like some hot cocoa?” You asked, peeking out from the kitchen, watching him set the table as your dad did the last-minute hoovering. 

“Yes please.” He called back, setting another crystal glass in front of one of the four chairs.

You helped your mum, taking the dishes to the table, giving her time to change into more appropriate clothes, before your parents and Jongdae and you sat down.  

The dinner went by smoothly, the conversation flew by, about your illustrations featured in a magazine and about the nomination of your artwork for some type of award; at one point your mother even commended Jongdae for a literary nomination in the poetry section of a country-wide award. You did not expect her to as civil knowing that she could hold grudges, but then again so could you. 

“The spiced cake is lovely.” Jongdae turned to your mother, finishing his last sip of hot chocolate. Your mum smiled at him, turning to look at you, and Jongdae’s arm that draped over the back of your chair, thumb running circles over your shoulder. 

“Y/N is a good baker.” She replied and you hid the blush. Baking was something you could always do, and you had been pretty proud of that. 

“She is.” Jongdae commended, giving you a small smile, eyes twinkling in the bright light, the multicoloured fairy lights of the Christmas tree reflected in his dark irises. Without thinking, you smiled back, oblivious to the fond look your father had been giving you all evening. 

“You are going to your parents’ tomorrow morning?” Your father spoke, and you turned your attention to him, smiling brightly.

“Yes.” Jongdae answered, his arm falling from the back of your chair as he rested it in his lap. 

“Wish them a Merry Christmas from us.” Your dad instructed, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes, making you smile. 

“I will. Thank you.” Jongdae replied, a small polite smile plastered on his lips. 

“Thank you for the flowers. They are lovely.” Your mum turned to him before her gaze fell on the vase standing on the top of the chest of drawers under the tv. It was a bouquet of mixed edelweiss, bluebells and honeysuckle. Silent; Jongdae had told your mother he loved you, and it had brought a smile to your lips every time you thought about it.

“And thank you for the wine.” Your dad added, gesturing to the bottle of red dessert wine standing on the dining table. 

“Why don’t we open it tonight, seeing as you are leaving tomorrow?” he asked, and Jongdae turned to you, silently asking if it was okay.

“Sure.” You nodded, going to get a corkscrew from the kitchen.

 The rest of the evening went by smoothly, with you ending up in Jongdae’s embrace at the end of the night, warm under your blankets in your old room.

And yet, you were right.

Love to me was unspoken

Love to me was a subtle breeze.

Love to you was something obvious.

  Morning came, and neither of you wanted to move. Still, he was the first to get up and shower, and you left to help your mum set up breakfast. Once you finished, you went to shower yourself, leaving Jongdae to talk to your dad over the morning news. 

-----------

An hour later it was time to leave, and after a heartfelt goodbye and your parents fretting over if you took everything, you were off on the road, travelling to the next town over where Jongdae’s parents lived. 

“Do you think they will be happy to see me?” You asked, looking over at Jongdae as he focused on the road. You were greeted with a white Christmas this year, and so he was being extra careful whilst driving. Snow was everywhere, and you were thankful the roads were cleared out before you got in the car late in the morning. 

“They call you daughter in law. Why wouldn’t they be happy to see you.” He answered, a smile tugging at his lips, and you gave him a small smile back, on instinct, despite the fact he never saw it. 

The rest of the three-hour journey was peaceful. Jongdae sang along to the Christmas song on the radio, encouraging you to sing along with him as he gave you cheeky smiles and stole little glances your way, doing his best to focus on the road. 

It was a miracle you were not stuck in traffic between towns, so you arrived at his parents’ house around one thirty. 

“We’re here.” Jongdae announced, pulling into the driveway of his childhood home. His mother was the first to get out of the house to greet him, his father following close behind. You stepped out of the car the same time Jongdae did. Almost immediately he was engulfed by his mother’s arms, caught in a hug so tight you could imagine him turning red.

“There you two are!” His mother exclaimed as she let your boyfriend go, giving you a warm smile in greeting. Despite your relationship with Jongdae being repaired, you doubted you would feel comfortable with his mother embracing you, and so you were thankful for her keeping distance. You came to stand by Jongdae, his hand finding yours in split seconds as he threaded your fingers together.

“Don’t they look lovely together?” His mother asked, eyes falling to your joined hands. You blushed lightly, letting Jongdae lead you into his parents’ house.

“Come in, how about some lunch?” His mother asked, leading the two of you to the already set dining table. Jongdae’s dad was already bringing out the tureen for soups. His mum went and got side dishes from the kitchen, motioning for you to sit down.

“I don’t want to bother.” You responded, trying to politely decline, despite the fact you already knew it was useless. 

“Nonsense.” She waved a dismissing hand and went to place the dishes on the table. 

“Sit down.” Jongdae’s dad gave you a reassuring smile as Jongdae motioned for you to sit beside him, his arm draped over the chair you were meant to sit in. You had poured yourself a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup, and so did Jongdae. The soup was delicious, so much so that Jongdae ended up having seconds. Once the food was done, you helped Jongdae unpack your things from the car, and then went to help his mother cooking. The house was spotless, and the only other thing to be done was Christmas dinner.  

You cut up carrots and parsnips as Jongdae peeled and cut potatoes. His mother busied herself with baking a pie.

“I’m glad you two are back together.” She commented over her shoulder as she rolled out pastry. You stopped what you were doing, choosing to let go of the knife in your hand. Jongdae gave you a worried look. He had not told his parents about why you two broke up, figuring that Christmas was not the best time to tell them everything. He had not seen them in a while, seeing as they were away from the country for the last six months because of work. You had agreed to keep your metaphorical dirty laundry private for now.

 “I don’t understand why you two broke up in the first place.” Jongdae pursed his lips, giving you a small smile as he looked at his mum.

 “We thought we needed some time alone to think things through.” You answered for him. Technically it was not a lie, you had done a lot of thinking during the time you spent apart, and you believed, as did Jongdae, that it had done the two a lot of good. it had given you a much-needed break, and it also released a lot of tension between you.

 “I’m glad it all turned out alright in the end.” His mother smiled at Jongdae, and then at you, and you returned the smile, a little less enthusiastically.

 “Mum lets leave this topic for a day other than Christmas.” Jongdae butted in before his mother said anything else. The kitchen fell silent as he resumed peeling potatoes, and you managed to give his free hand a gentle squeeze. 

------------

Night came quickly after that, and soon you were sitting at the dinner table, dressed in one of your better dresses. The dinner had been peaceful, you walked away stuffed and smiling, eyes falling onto Jongdae every once in a while, admiring the golden tone of his skin under the candlelight.

You walked to the lounge; the large living Christmas tree stood in the corner. It was decorated with opulent ornaments and the fairy lights glowed a brilliant red and gold in the dim lights.

“It’s time for presents.” Jongdae’s mother exclaimed once everyone sat comfortably in the lounge. An old copy of The Nutcracker lay on his father's lap, open to the first page.

His mother pulled out some gifts from under the tree, giving the first one to her son.

“Here you go, darling.” She passed over the colourful package. 

“And you too, you are family too.” She said, giving you a serious look as she handed you a small box wrapped in red.  

“Thank you.” You told her, looking over at Jongdae as he went behind his father's armchair, pulling out two boxes and a bottle of wine.

"Here you go." He handed his gift to his mother and passed over the bottle to his father.

"What's the third one?" His father asked, setting the bottle aside.

"Y/N thought you would like this, to put up on the picture wall." He handed the box to his father, and he pried it open, revealing a frame with the magazine article featuring Jongdae and his anthology. It was back from a month or so ago, after he received a nomination for the national poetry award.

"Oh, it's lovely." His mother said, picking the frame up.

"She thought it would be nice for you to have a memento of my first success." Jongdae explained, squeezing you hand as you pressed yourself closer to his side. His mother looked at you, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiled, murmuring a silent thank you. She proceeded to put the frame up on the chest of drawers below the wall covered in family photographs.

------------

Once you were alone in Jongdae's room, you relaxed a little, unaware until now of how much stress this evening caused you.

Seeing your slumped figure, Jongdae smiled, moving closer, until he was right behind you. He could feel the warmth of your skin and smell your favourite perfume. His heart beat faster, straining against its lining in an attempt to escape the confines of his ribs. He hoped you didn't hear the erratic beating, nor the deep breath he took before speaking. Jongdae summoned all his courage, bracing himself against the storm that you were.

“I have another present.” He whispered, arms wrapping around your middle from behind. You threaded your fingers through his, running your thumbs in circles over the backs of his hands, enjoying the comfort of the moment. Jongdae was warm and solid behind you, his presence allowed you to relax as your shoulders fell. 

“Another one?” You asked, and he hummed in confirmation, the vibrations tickling your ear.

“You’ll like it.” He promised, and you could feel the hind of a smile in his voice. He let you go, and you turned around to face him. Jongdae pulled out a small velvet box out of the pocket of his suit trousers.

“Jongdae-” Your breath hitched, but he stopped you before you could say anything more.

“Be mine.”

“I’m not asking you to marry me. Not if you don’t want to.” He told you, close enough you could feel his warmth, could imagine the erratic beating of his heart. Or was it simply the echo of your own heart?

“I’m asking you to stay with me.” Jongdae looked you in the eye, his dark orbs smouldering with intensity like ardent flames. 

“During the last year I have learnt many things, I learnt that I need to be more attentive, and find a healthier way to come with negative emotions.” He told you, voice gentle as he spoke, your eyes never leaving his.

“I’ve also learnt that I can live without you.” Neither of you flinched or reacted when he said that you both smiled, ruefully, but it was still a smile. 

“But I also found that I don’t want to. I want to stay by your side indefinitely. I can live without you, and you can live without me, but I don't want to. I want you. I love you.” He told you, opening the little box he was still holding, revealing the thin band of gold among the dark cushion. A single brilliant pearl sat in the middle of the band, like a moon against the night sky.

You thought back to his anthology, mind catching onto the significance of the ring he was holding. 

“I cannot water you anymore,

And pearls, like dew 

I cannot give you.”

You remembered the passage from his poem, and tears swelled at the back of your eyes, threatening to spill over.

He had finally given you the pearl he always wanted, finally fulfilling his self-made promise. 

“Our love is an inkwell, and I promise to never let it dry again.” He promised, and before you could continue, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was sloppy, nothing like the ones on screen, your teeth clashed, and your neck hurt, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the man in your arms; the man who had decided he loved you more than ink-stained fingers, who had kept his promises. It was the man whose ink-stained fingers you learned to love, the same one who brought you flowers and compared you to spring and flowers and the sun, and made you feel like you were all of those and more. You loved him, and you didn’t want to live without him either.

“I love you too, Kim Jongdae.” You broke the kiss, whispering those words against his lips like a prayer.

“I love all of you.” You told him, eyes looking into his own as you let his fingers, stained a deep blue, slide the ring onto your ring finger as your hands wrapped around his neck, keeping his body close to yours. 

Is this obvious enough?

Loud enough?

Eternal enough?

I hope it is,

because you are. 

[kinglykook]

Unburden Me (01)

/ 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 /

Pairing ⇥ Min Yoongi x Reader ft. Demon!Yoongi, Demon!Jimin

Description ⇥ After a night teeming with alcohol and cardinal sins, you find yourself waking in a hospital the next day. Only, you aren’t really awake. In fact, you aren’t even alive, and you’re no longer alone. A demon named Min Yoongi offers you the choice to return to fix what you left behind and ascend to a higher place - for a price, and he will come to collect. 

Warnings ⇥ Mentions of death/hospitals, smut, language, religious themes

Genre ⇥ Smut, angst & fluff 

Length ⇥ 12.5k

__________

Your legs felt wobbly with every step as you stumbled through the streets, clutching your bag in one hand, and your phone in the other. The hem of your dress tangled around your ankles with your uneven pace, your heels offering you no reprieve in your unstable state. Mascara stained your cheeks, and your hair, previously done up in a curly updo, now fell free, falling to your shoulders in disarray. You could still feel the alcohol coursing through your veins, clouding your thoughts and making your movements hazy as you tried to focus enough to hail a cab. Your bra and panties were stuffed haphazardly in your purse, which you clutched to close to your chest in the same fashion that guilt was clutching your heart.

You’d made a huge mistake.

The combination of shock, fear, guilt, and alcohol did nothing to help you make sense of your surroundings. The city was bright and bustling around you, with people skirting by your hunched form without so much as a second glance. That was fine. You didn’t deserve any help anyway, not after what you’d done. With tears in your eyes, you looked back up at the building from which you’d just exited. The light was still on, illuminating the window, and you could see faint shadows of the figures inside. You could only imagine what they were saying about you now. What they’d tell everybody. The thought overwhelmed your mind with a new wave of raw emotion, drowning any common sense you’d had left, and leading you to step off the curb without a second glance.

__________

The gentle drones of the hospital machines woke you slowly. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights, you opened your eyes to find yourself surrounded by the sterile, starch white environment of a hospital. Your eyes closed again, but you pried them away as you tried to make sense of reality. The room was empty, but where was- oh. You remembered now. Last night. That was why. You hadn’t even realized you’d drank enough to warrant a hospital visit, but you were glad all the same to wake up in one piece. Raising your hands gingerly because of the IVs, you ran your fingers through your hair and rubbed away the remnants of your makeup. You felt sore all over, and more than gritty - that was no surprise. Your hand reached for the button on the bed to call the nurse, when a soft voice rang out in the room.

“There’s no need for that.” 

You jumped at the sound, eyes turning to see a man standing at the foot of your bed. You didn’t immediately recognize him, which made you irrationally worry for a split second that you had amnesia. He wore black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black jacket on top. One lone glittering earring hung from his ear, and a thin silver chain encircled his throat. His hair was bleach blonde, but it looked soft as he regarded you, small strands falling into his feline eyes. He was beautiful, to put it plainly. His pink petal mouth parted in a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes, the irises of which looked black as night. He stood casually, as though this were just a visit, and though his frame was small, his presence seemed to swallow the room whole. You’d remember a man like this. 

“Why?” You asked, eyes narrowing and suspicion lacing your voice. You reached for the button anyway, but stalled in pressing it. “I don’t know you.”

“You don’t, it’s true. But you will. Stand up.” His voice was quiet, but not soft. It was a direct order. You blinked at him owlishly, and he flicked his fingers at you, gesturing for you to stand. Unbeknownst to yourself, you found yourself standing, all too easily at that. The IVs fell away and when you looked down at yourself, you were shocked to find yourself no longer in a hospital gown. You had the same glittering black and gold dress on that you wore last night. 

“What- what is this?” 

The man reached for you and tugged you back towards the wall, then nodded towards the door. Seconds later, a team of nurses and doctors burst in, a defibralltor machine in hand. You looked at the heart monitor - it droned with one steady beep. But there you were, laying in the hospital bed, still clad in the hospital gown. And yet... You looked at the man next to you, suddenly afraid.

“That’s why there was no need. They were coming anyway. Shall we walk?” He left without much ceremony after that, walking straight out the door. “W-what- hey!” You sped after him, barely able to keep on his heels as you crossed the threshold of the hospital room, and found yourself... not in the hospital. 

The room was like a baroque fantasy. Each piece of furniture was sumptuous, from the plush leather chairs to the velvet ottomans to the Renaissance paintings hanging from the walls. Low rafters hung darkly from the ceiling, carved from a rich, almost red-stained wood. Stained glass lamps stood on every end table, offering what little light the lack of windows couldn’t. There was a huge wooden desk in front of you covered in parchment, papers and notebooks. There was a plush red and gold carpet underneath your feet, but you saw bits of hardwood peeking from underneath. This must’ve been the sitting room; if you looked past the open doorway across the room, you could spot the enormous bed. Whoever he was, he lived well. 

It was clearly not a hospital, so what were you doing here?

“Sit.” 

The man quickly did the same, sitting at the table and picking up a pen previously discarded. It seemed as though he had been working on something, as he noted something in a delicate scrawl. 

You sat, but you weren’t happy about it. “I’m dead?” You couldn’t even keep your voice from breaking as you said it. 

The man glanced down at his watch and nodded. “Yep. As of about four minutes ago.” He continued to write, and anger flared up inside of you. You stepped forward, slamming his hands on the table, causing his hand to jerk and the pen to skitter across the page. “Will you tell me what the fuck is going on?” 

“Sit.” He repeated, and this time, his voice rattled your soul. You found yourself sitting without any recognition as to whether there was even a chair beneath you, but the backs of your thighs hit wood as you sat. He looked up at you with annoyance, his delicate eyes flickering. Now that you were sitting so close, you saw that his eyes weren’t actually black; you saw specks of brown dotting the irises in the light, but that was no comfort. His features were beautiful, his skin glowing as if inhuman, and you couldn’t miss the deep timbre of his authoritative voice, no matter how quietly he spoke. 

“My name is Min Yoongi.” You couldn’t miss the small smile on his lips as he said his name, but if you were supposed to recognize, you didn’t. “You’re Y/N. Time of death, 4:04 am. Cause? Car accident. You’re quite the troublemaker, aren’t you.” 

“Okay Min Yoongi, if I’m dead, then what is all of this?” You gestured wildly at the room around you then paused. You had no bra or underwear on. You’d shoved it all into your purse after you’d left the apartment in a hurry, which means you certainly didn’t have it on now.. and this dress left little to the imagination through its sequins. You looked up at Yoongi again, sporting a dark smile as though he knew exactly what you were thinking about. “I’m not complaining.” You thought you heard him murmur, but you were entirely too overcome to care.

“Y/N, you’re dealing with the dark arts now.” He warned. “As a demon, I’m here to offer you a return.” A return? To life? Well.. You paused at that. Of course, you hadn’t wanted to die, but knowing what sorts of things waited for you back in reality... It wasn’t immediately tempting. “You can return to life, and fix what mistakes you left behind as an attempt to clear your soul and ascend to a higher place.”  

It was almost as though you could still feel the alcohol in your system, that was how slow your mind seemed to be working. None of this made sense, none of it, and yet there you sat, perfectly still. You’d barely accepted the fact that you were dead, and now you were given an opportunity to return, and what was all this talk of Heaven? 

“Well-”

“You’re not interested? In that case, I have a much more... fun proposition for you.” By the look in his eyes and the smarmy look on his face, you guessed you weren’t interested. Narrowing your eyes, you crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to look intimidating. In front of Yoongi, it did not work.

“Save it, demon boy. What’s the catch for a return?”

Yoongi placed his pen down and regarded you with a degree of fascination. You weren’t sure you liked it, but it made you squirm in your seat anyway under his heady gaze. “Three conditions.”

“How poetic.” You scoffed.

“You know, for someone who just died, you have quite the mouth on you. You want to piss off a demon, pet?” 

“If it means you won’t call me ‘pet’, then yes. Just, fine, go on.” You sighed. Surely he could understand why you were pissy. The plan had been to sleep away your hangover and all memories of the night before, for days, weeks, months, whatever it took. Instead you were here, talking with an impatient demon. Sure, this was much better. 

“Three conditions. One, you can’t tell anybody about me or the deal, otherwise it will be rescinded.” You almost wanted to ask how he would know, but kept your mouth shut. He smiled then, simmering with taunting. “Yes, I will know. Two, though I’m returning your life to you, it remains at my control. I can take it just as easily as I return it. Three, if you fail to amend your sins, you return to me. Finally, the price.”

“Wait, you mean the other three aren’t a price?”

“No, they are simply rules. The price is that you come when called, whenever you are called, for any reason.”

“What?” You balked. “Come when called? When? Why?” 

“Whenever. I may need assistance with something, I may need to speak to you, whatever. Don’t forget, your life is mine once I return it to you from my hands. Do you agree?” 

“And if I refuse?” You asked, lifting a brow. “You already own my life, and I’d be at your beck and call anyway. What more do I have to lose?”

You heard a soft sound, then realized Yoongi was chuckling quietly. “If you refuse, you go to purgatory, for an undecided amount of time. It’s no fun. Take my word for it, a thousand years in purgatory is a start, and it’s long time.” 

“Can I think about it?”

“No, this isn’t a used car dealership. It should be a very instinctive decision for most people, Y/N.” Yoongi replied in a snarky tone. You didn’t know someone so pretty could be so mean. 

“Alright, alright. If I amend my sins or whatever, I can go to Heaven?” You asked, and he nodded. “If I fail... I’m yours.” 

“So we’re betting. This is a bet on my eternal soul, and you’re just a glorified bookie.” You found yourself saying, despite his earlier warning of not pissing him off. You found you couldn’t help yourself - but it was exactly what you deserved. Punishment for your sin. 

“If you like. Now, if you agree, sign this.” Yoongi handed you a heavy calligraphy pen dripping with ink, and slid forward a sheet of paper and you couldn’t help but smirk at the dramatics of it. You weighed it in your hand for a moment, pausing before signing. Could you do it, fix your mistakes and manage to ascend? And if you didn’t? You glanced at Yoongi. An eternity tied to a demon. A beautiful demon, but a demon nonetheless. 

Before you quite knew what you were doing, your hand reached forward and scrawled your signature. It looked messy compared to Yoongi’s elegant handwriting, but you had bigger things to worry about than your penmanship. You should’ve felt good about your choice, but something about the way Yoongi smiled at you once you’d finished made your heart flutter. 

Like he’d already won.  

[themanicnami]

Witch Tips for City Witches

City Witch Tips for all of my fellow witches stuck in apartments, dorms or other city areas.

If you can’t burn incense you can make your own sprayable incense by mixing alcohol (usually vodka or rubbing) with essential oils and a bit of oil, spray in the air to act like incense

If you are unable to go outside for whatever reason to get rain water (in my case just no where to collect it safely), fill a jar or glass with regular water and keep it near a cracked window to charge it with the wind, sound and scent of the rain outside. Same goes for storm water

Trapped in city and unable to get ocean water? Sea salt mixed with rain/storm water can be an excellent substitute

To continue on with water substitutes, if you can’t collect snow crushed ice from your fridge will suffice

Low key warding/protection you can use: spray moon water, salt water or sprayable incense about your apartment or dorm, place sigils under doormats, furniture, inside cupboards, etc; place crystals about hidden or out in the open, sweep and dust out the door or towards windows

If you need melted wax to seal a jar or for any other magical purpose, but can’t burn candles, by a wax melter and melt that wax and imagine the light from the burner acting like a flame (plus they are rather cheap, I got mine for 25 bucks)

Need stars in your craft but too much light pollution? Glow in the dark stars on your ceiling or wall can work just as well for visualization. Print out pictures of your favorite constellations or planets and place them up on your walls or on your altar. Live video feed of the night sky can also be easily found on the internet

Bath magic is amazing for low-key ‘in the woods’ witches. Use teas, milk, oils, herbs, bath bombs, bubble baths, salts, etc that relate to your intent. It is also a good place to meditate if you have roommates or family around that would disturb you otherwise

If you do for whatever reason need to burn a candle, birthday candles are small, melt fast, and don’t create a lot of smoke or smokey scent

Sigils are another great low-key form of magic. To boost them up, use color magic related to the color you draw them in, write them using quills made of feathers related to your intent, use colored paper, rub a drop of essential oil on them, charge them with crystals or in your windowsill

You don’t have to burn sigils to activate them, which is hardly an option when you are in a dorm or apartment. Other options are: Shredding them, erasing them, soaking them in a bath or shower, using body heat or your own pulse, etc

Miss having the outdoors and plants around? Windowsill gardens can really help. Small plants you can consider keeping in your windowsill or counter-tops: succulents, cacti, bamboo, lemongrass, basic, rosemary, mint, rosemary, mosses, aloe, snake plant, pothos (and other vines), carrots, beets, shallots, lettuce, spinach, garlic, chives, parsley, oregano, thyme, and marigold

Open your window to let the wind and air from outside to help energize you and clear out negative energies inside

Fun places to put sigils: under furniture, carved into soap, onto shampoo/conditioner bottles, on your make up, inside phone cases, in shoes, under bandages, sewn into pillow cases and blankets, behind pictures in frames, underside of nail polish, carved into wax squares for your wax melter, keys and keychains, behind mirrors or in medicine cabinets, on bookmarks, on or in binders and pencil cases, on medicine bottles, and water bottles/travel mugs

Easy to make and dispose of poppets: carrot sticks (one of my personal favorites), apples or other fruit, clothe, paper, popsicle sticks, paper towels/napkins, toilet paper rolls, eggs, celery stocks, and cotton balls

The internet is an amazing thing. Need some sounds to help you focus or meditate? Easily look up the sounds of rain, storms, wind, ocean waves, jungles, forests, etc

Christmas lights are fun and great way to use discrete witchcraft. Select ones in the colors you wish for them to bring ie green for growth, yellow for inspiration, white for protection, purple for psychic abilities, etc. 

Some everyday things you can use for discrete witchcraft that don’t cost much at all or that you most likely already have: water, table salt, black pepper, paper, crayons/pencils/pens/markers, vinegar, milk, tea, highlighters, make up and beauty supplies, shampoo and conditioner, rubber bands, paperclips, thumbtacks, computer/phone/tablet, music/music player, playing cards, dice, air freshener, perfumes, toothpaste, rice, flour, sugar, honey, and all kitchen herbs and seasonings.

Can’t afford gemstones or crystals on college budget? Crackle and dyed quartz you can find super cheap at craftstores and online. I bought a whole bag for 4 bucks. Use them based on their colors and shapes. Can’t afford that but still want to use rocks in your craft? Find some rocks you like outside, again use their colors and shapes to determine their correspondences. Want to use them for a specific purpose? Paint sigils on them in the color that corresponds with what you want! Charge them in your windowsill or with your own energy and intent. There you go!

Pocket mirrors are cheap, easy to carry around and great for glamours and on the go magic. 

Seriously though, glamour spells are going to be a good option for you. use your make up, skin products, hair care products, brushes/combs, perfume, mirrors, toothbrush/toothepaste and intent. Good to do while you are getting ready for your day

Dream magic is another friend of the city witch! Use crystals, sigils, herbs, etc near your bed before you go to sleep, drink some chamomile, get yourself a dream journal (mine is literally a notebook with construction paper on it), keep it and a pen near you. In the morning write down your dreams, your thoughts, how you feel (tired, refreshed, groggy, etc), and interpret them. 

Can’t afford tarot cards? Print out some, you can usually find them online and they won’t last as long as a real deck but it is a good temporary solution. Want a Ouija board but can’t keep one or need it to be easily hidden? Print one out, draw on one on paper or cardboard, fold it up and store it once you are done. Want a pendulum but can’t afford one? Use your favorite necklace, bracelet or keychain!

Tea and coffee magic is great, make your own tea blends with the herbs you like. Or just buy simple green or black tea and add sugar, milk, etc depending on your intentions

As I said before, crock pot magic. The Modern Cauldron: brew and cook all day with it, fill your apartment with the scent of the herbs and food to fill it with the energies they correspond with and you get a delicious meal to come home to! Most dorms allow them. Rice cookers also work well.

Can’t afford fresh food? Have to survive on ramen, canned soup, and microwaved meals? That is okay! They even correspond with things! Tomato soup for love, beauty and passion. Beef ramen noodles for strength, courage and longevity. Microwave mac n cheese for beauty and feminity. Look at their ingredients and what they correspond with. Sure its not as glamorous as a making a huge made by scratch traditional meal but its kitchen magic none the less. Stir it with your intent while you cook. It isn’t fancy but it works just as well!

Use a notebook or binder for a nice grimoire, decorate it as much as you want on the inside. Print out pictures of nature, animals, planets, stars, places, crystals, etc that you cant’ access/afford and use them in your craft. Spell books and grimoires are powerful tools

Don’t have a wand? Use a wooden spoon. Tie a colored string or ribbon to it to correspond with what energy you want it to have and move and flick it as you would a wand. 

Knitting, crocheting, and knot magic is very apartment friendly. As well as sewing and embroidering plus it is super calming.

Glitter, sequins, and beads are great in witchcraft! Use their colors to determine their correspondences. Put them in spell jars, sachets, bottles, etc. Glitter tip: if you spill any don’t fret, get some packing tape, wrap it around your hand with the sticky part outwards and dab at that glitter spill. You will literally pick up all of the glitter in seconds!

Enchant and charge your pots, pans, skillets, and other cookware to make every meal magical

Make moonwater in your windowsills. Use it for cleansing, beauty, divination, clarity, protection and purification

Take walks. Even if it is a city there is still nature about. Pigeons flying about, potted flowers outside of stores, grass growing in front lawns, etc. Enjoy yourself, even if it is not some wild, vast forest you can still connect with your local nature.

Pick up litter or garbage you see outside, being in the city we all see it. The natural world around you will appreciate you helping out. Bring a bag with you when you take your walks or travel and fill it with wrappers you see on the ground.

I hope this was helpful to all of my fellow city and dorm witches!