#but like Do you just not have any joy or whimsy in your soul

[kanenites]

submitting sleep token to poll blogs and watching music critics in the notes absolutely malding over the overwhelmingly positive results will never not be funny

like why are you this mad. its ok that you dont like it but like. do you enjoy music? at all?

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Mirror Mirror - L.SM

🎇Who: Lee Seokmin x female reader 🎇What: Strangers to friends to lovers, magic au, fluff, some smut, sprinkle of angst 🎇Wordcount: 15.9k 🎇Warnings: Mentions of death/ghosts but nobody dies, profanity, Seokmin’s thighs (yes they need a warning), biting/hickeys, body worship, oral (f), pervert Wonwoo, technically there’s a rather large age-gap but magic stuff makes it meaningless

Summary: The glass shimmers, a gentle breeze tickles your cheeks. It's working. After all this time it's- "Ow," the human suddenly sprawled on the floor in front of you whines as he rubs his sore knees. It didn't work. You really thought it would work. You look up at the glass in front of you. It's solid again. The breeze is gone, and it didn't work. You’re still stuck, just as you have been for years. Except now, this too-trusting stranger is stuck here with you.

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- The single biggest juciest thank you to @wongyuseokie for making the beautiful banner! Look at that beauty, pure talent that, I am awed and endlessly grateful, thank you, darling 💗💗💗

This day was bound to come. You knew it logically; knew that one day your absence would be noticed, and the vultures would swarm to claim that which you had kept safe for so long. You knew it was coming; you just didn’t realise it would be so soon.

You can only stand on the outside watching in, as your home gets emptied of all your precious belongings, years of carefully collected curios and priceless pieces. All tossed into cardboard boxes and carried off out of your line of sight in the hands of people who have never cared for you or your belongings. People who have never taken the chance to understand that it isn’t just blood that runs through your veins, that your mind isn’t twisted with delusions, just open to such wonders that they will never see even with their eyes wide open.

It hurts. 

You can’t bear to watch the only signs of the fact that you lived a happy, adventurous life full of whimsy and beauty which most can’t comprehend, get pulled out of the home you had made for yourself. Gutted until no sign of joy is left. It feels too much like they’re tearing your heart and soul from your chest.

So, you leave. 

You walk a world that only has glimpses of light left, little pockets of life amongst the dull stillness you’ve grown too accustomed to during the past months of aimless wandering. 

You walk, and walk, and walk until that hurt in your chest feels more like an old scar than an open wound, and then you turn around and walk back.

By the time you return, your home no longer looks like your own, nor does it look like an empty shell. There’s a brightness to it even if it’s so dull in your world, life and comfort tucked in amongst the half-built furniture and half-unpacked boxes. 

You wonder how long you’ve been gone. 

Curious of who now resides in the home you never intended to leave behind, you wander through the mostly dark house until you find a bright room and cross the master bedroom with ease, to lean towards the mirror and peer through the glass. 

The bedroom is still, lit by the natural rays coming through the open window revealing that whoever the new homeowner is, they must’ve focused on unpacking this bedroom first. 

The large bed has clearly held a slumbering being already, and lazily discarded clothes lay on the fluffy rug beside the bed as if thrown off before a tired person had climbed into bed the night before and have yet to pick the items up.

A glance at the cute, colourful clock on the bedside table tells you that it’s almost 10am. 

Without thinking, you glance to the other side of the bed and find that the bedside table isn’t a matching set of two, only a lone table, so you think it’s safe to assume this person is single, and by the lack of other rooms set up that they also live alone. Or their housemates haven’t set up their own mirrors yet, or maybe simply don’t have them. 

A sudden gasp and the sound of items clattering to hardwood flooring makes you look further into the room, leaning closer to the glass to get a better view. 

You don’t expect to find big eyes already on you. But it does explain the shocked sound and dropping of items; you imagine most people would be a tad surprised to find a woman standing in the reflection of their mirror.

Deciding that there’s no point trying to hide now, you lift a hand and wave at the gawking man. He seems to be growing paler by the second. Surprisingly, he lifts one hand to wave back at you slowly, seeming to be moving on autopilot. 

“Hey,” you greet. Maybe you should’ve stayed quiet though, because as soon as the word is out of your mouth, the man’s eyes roll back and he collapses to the floor unconscious amongst the toiletries he had earlier dropped. “Oops.”

Of course, there’s not a lot for you to do, no way for you to shake him awake or interact with him in any way while he’s unconscious, so you just thunk your forehead against the glass with a sigh and wait.

Luckily, the man comes to after only a couple of minutes, relieving your boredom and the worry that was starting to niggle at the back of your mind as you considered that he could’ve hit his head, or maybe had a delicate heart that you had inadvertently caused havoc with by simply existing in this way.

At first, the man seems very confused as he shuffles up, rubbing his head a little signifying that he had banged it, but at least you don’t think it was hard enough to cause any concern. He peers around himself at the floor and his items there, clearly trying to do the mental maths to find out the reason he woke up sprawled amongst his toiletries only a few steps into the bedroom.

You decide to just wait for him to remember on his own and simply watch him slowly gather the toiletries utterly puzzled. 

It’s when he’s got his arms full and almost standing upright, knees still bent from his rise that he seems to recall the events leading up to waking up on the floor. He freezes in a squat, eyes slowly turning wide before his head woodenly turns to the large mirror fixed to the wall beside the dresser. 

When your eyes meet, you wiggle your fingers in a wave. He screams, drops the toiletries, and runs out of the room leaving you staring at the splatter of conditioner and tiny pieces of broken plastic.

“H-hello?!” 

The timid call matched with faint knocking wakes you up from your nap on the dull couch. You stretch and yawn as you get up to shuffle through the dim home and enter the bright bedroom. 

The man is standing on the other side of the glass, one hand raised in a fist as he tentatively knocks against it, his eyes flickering around the reflection. 

He looks determined, yet there’s still a fear in his eyes that you really can’t blame him for having. Though it does make you roll your eyes when that fear grows exponentially when his eyes find you entering the room. 

“I can’t hurt you, no need to look so scared,” you point out while nearing the glass. Understandably, the man scuttles back a little when you get close enough. “I can’t reach through, look,” you reach out, yet your hand hits the glass with a thunk. “See? I can’t touch you; you can’t touch me.” 

“Oh.” To your genuine surprise, it seems that is all you need to say and do for the man to lose all fear, as he steps closer to the glass and smiles at you a little. “Sorry, I’ve never met a mirror ghost before, I don’t know the rules.” 

“I’m not a ghost.”

“You’re not?” He tilts his head a little, lips pouting slightly as he thinks. “Are you some kind of fae?” 

“No, I’m a witch.” 

“Wah, really?!” He lights up, lips stretching into a wide grin. This is not how you expected this to go, especially considering that your first two meetings consisted of him passing out and running away screaming. “That’s so cool! I’ve never met a witch before! Can you show me some magic? Can you teach me?!” 

“Uh…” You’re so thrown off by his genuine enthusiasm that you can do nothing but stare dumbly at him for a few seconds. “Not from here, no.” 

“Oh.” The man frowns, shoulders slumping in disappointment. “That sucks. I’d love to learn magic.” 

“I mean, I can make a deal with you, if you really want to learn?” You offer, deciding that this emotionally open man may just be naive enough to trust a stranger in his bedroom mirror. 

“What kind of deal?” He looks at you suspiciously and folds his hands over his chest protectively. “I’m not giving you my soul.” 

“Your soul?” You can’t help but laugh. The man’s expression does a weird twitchy thing before his arms drop to his sides and he looks at you with round, sparkling eyes. “What would I do with that? I’m no demon and even they don’t claim souls much anymore; there’s an overpopulation issue in hell, you know? Too many assholes these days.” 

“Hell’s real?” 

“Anything’s real if you look hard enough and believe.” 

“Unicorns?” 

“Okay, no, that was just a drunken fairy sticking twigs to horses’ heads and covering them in fairy magic to make them sparkle, and fuck with humans.”

“Huh, okay,” he responds in easy acceptance of your words. You can’t help but wonder what kind of absurdities you could tell this man to be fact, and he’d accept it without question. You didn’t know such naive people even exist in adulthood.

“Right so, would you be willing to make a deal with me?” 

“Yeah! Sure!” He beams, nodding happily already.

“I haven’t even given any terms yet. You don’t know what I’d ask of you.” 

“Oh, right.” His expression turns serious, and his tone follows when he speaks next. “What do I have to do for you to teach me magic?” 

“Get me out of this fucking place.” 

“Oh, you’re stuck?” 

“Do you think I’m in here for fun?” You deadpan.

“I don’t know! I told you I’ve never met a witch before! I don’t know what witches like to do for fun!” 

“Right, well no, this is not my idea of a fun time. I am stuck and I need someone in the real world to get me out.” 

“How?” 

“I assume by doing the reverse of what I did to get stuck in here,” you reply with a shrug. “I can write down the incantation and a list of what you need to get.” 

“Okay.” He looks at you with nothing but trust and patience, eyes so pure and innocent and posture open. 

As you turn to go to the kitchen to get the memo pad and pen from the fridge, you silently decide that once you’re out of here and back in the real world, you’ll teach him how not to be such an easy target, alongside the magic lessons.

“Okay, everything is all set up!” The man announces as he gets to his feet in front of the mirror, as if you haven’t been watching him carefully set up all the items from the list on the floor in the places you instructed him to. 

“Good job,” you praise in a murmur, sort of distractedly as your eyes dart over the symbols drawn on the glass to check for the nth time that they’re exactly the same as the ones you had shown him on one of the many pieces of memo pad paper now littering the floor by your feet.

When your eyes land back on the man, he’s grinning proudly at the short praise you had given him. Clearly, he’s very easy to please. Must be nice. 

“Alright, whenever you’re ready.” 

“What will happen?” He asks as he steps forward to press one palm to the glass while his other lifts the piece of paper where he had earlier copied down the incantation which you had shown him through the glass. 

“The glass will move and then I can step back through.” 

“That’s it? No levitating items or fire or-” 

“That’s it. I can show you that stuff once I’m back in the real world.” 

“You will?” You hum in confirmation with a little nod that makes his smile turn excited. His shoulders wiggle a little with gleeful anticipation. It’s admittedly pretty cute. “Okay, okay, I got this, I can totally bring a witch out of her mirror world and back into the real world, you got this, Seokie.” He murmurs to himself under his breath. It only really occurs to you then that you don’t even know each other's names. 

Oh well, plenty of time for that once you’re back in reality.

You watch intently as the man, Seokie as he referred to himself, takes a deep breath with his eyes closed before opening them and immediately starts to read aloud the words written there in a language he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t seem to care that he has no idea what he’s actually saying.

You definitely need to teach the man something about self-preservation once you’re in the real world.

The incantation should work; you’ve revised this same spell so many times since you first got stuck here, a reverse of your own spell that trapped you in this world of your own making. Previous versions of the incantation have never worked, you’ve tried this a few times with various humans through various mirrors, yet nothing. 

But this time, it should work, you’ve fine-tuned it. It has to work.

A breath catches in your throat as you notice the glitter of magic under Seokie’s palm.

The glass shimmers. 

A gentle breeze tickles your cheeks. 

It's working. After all this time it's-

"Ow," the human suddenly sprawled on the floor in front of you whines as he rubs his sore knees.

It didn't work. 

You really thought it would work.

You look up at the glass in front of you. It's solid again. The breeze is gone, and it didn't work. You’re still stuck, just as you have been for years. Except now, this too-trusting stranger is stuck here with you.

"I quit!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in frustration and turning to walk off. 

"Wait!" The human screeches as the room gradually darkens with your exit. You don't look back, but you hear him scramble after you. “Why’s it so dark?” He murmurs once he’s close enough that he’s almost pressed to your arm as he wraps his long fingers around your forearm like a lost child. 

“There aren’t any mirrors in these rooms,” you answer, motioning to the dark, lifeless rooms you pass. Dull copies of his own house, full of subdued versions of his own belongings. “No light can reach them.” 

“Oh. But it’s not entirely dark, at least…” You feel his gaze on you. “Not where you are. Do witches have glow in the dark auras or something?” 

“Glow in the dark auras?” You repeat as you stop and look at him incredulously. 

“Yeah…I am guessing by your expression that glow in the dark auras are not a thing.” 

“Not that I’m aware of,” you reply with a shrug, then turn and continue forward to leave the apartment. “Doesn’t mean it’s entirely non-existent though, just that I’ve never seen or heard a thing about it.”

“Everything exists if you believe,” he paraphrases your earlier words as he toddles along at your side while still holding your arm to stay in whatever the not-a-glow-in-the-dark-aura surrounds you and gives off a soft, naturally warm light like a cosy little bubble to light your way and keep you safe. 

“Yeah,” you affirm simply. “But not that witches have glow in the dark auras. It’s just a detail of the original spell, so that I can always see where I’m going and what’s around me clearly, even outside of lit spaces.” 

“Ahh, so you can’t make me a human glow stick too?” 

“No,” you laugh. “Not in here at least.” 

“Don’t you have magic here?” 

“Don’t you think I’d have already left by now if I had magic?” 

“Not if it’s like a one-way door,” he reasons with a shrug. “Maybe you could walk through but not back.” 

“Mm, I see the logic but no, that’s not it. It’s supposed to be a swinging door, I can come and go as I please but evidently, I fucked up somewhere.” 

“Ah.” 

You’re not sure how long it’s been since Seokmin not Seokie, even if he always smiles brightly when you call him the nickname, tumbled into your mirror world, and got stuck with you; it could be hours, could be days, could be longer. There’s no way to tell the passing of time here unless you happen to be in a lit room with a clock, but even then, that doesn’t always give you an accurate reading if you can’t tell how many days have passed since last you looked. 

There was a room with a calendar some time ago, but when you last visited it had all changed and you no longer could sit and watch the little old lady knit scarves for grandchildren that never visited. You refuse to let yourself linger on why she’s no longer there, and now a young couple with a yappy dog that pisses on the rug all the time have painted over the pencils marks on the walls tracking heights of her loved ones who rarely even answered her calls. 

For hours, or days, or weeks, or months, you don’t know, you and Seokmin spend most of your time in an abandoned department store where there are fake rooms set up to display assorted items for sale. A lot of the store is smoke damaged, and most areas vandalised on top, but even broken mirrors bring light into your world.

Sometimes, you’ll sprawl over a dusty couch or bed and watch Seokmin gather broken items to throw into bins and sweep up. He’ll fetch items from elsewhere and set up the area of the moment until it’s all pretty and cosy. Only for it to be back to the vandalised state the next time the pair of you return after leaving the lit place. 

At first, it had made Seokmin visibly sad every time you two would return somewhere only to find his hard work to be for nought. For the lit space to reset in your absence as if he had never stepped a determined foot there in the first place. 

But now, Seokmin has somehow injected his sunny disposition into even that inevitable cruelty and declared that it’s ‘like those games where you have to fix up and decorate rooms, and I have endless chances and possibilities!’ You have no idea what games he means but you admire his ability to spin it into something positive. At least it gives him a better chance at keeping his sanity.

When you’re not camped out at the department store watching Seokmin play interior decorator or making up skits and plays to act out with whatever props are to hand to make you laugh until you cry, the two of you tend to wander around the dull city looking for different lit spaces to hang out and explore. 

Before Seokmin fell through the glass into the mirror world and you were alone, you never cared if a space was lit or not, you know there is nothing else living in this world so there’s nothing that can hurt you even in the darkest places where you can’t see past the edge of your glow. 

But Seokmin hates unlit places, he’s afraid of the dark and always has been, so now you avoid them and have never stepped foot in the pitch-black spaces since he arrived.

Somehow though, there’s always a new lit space to explore, more games to pull out of cupboards while people aren’t home, and sometimes barely manage to scuttle out of sight when they return. 

A few times, Seokmin has asked why you hide from everyone when they could potentially free you from the mirror world. You always say the same thing ‘I don’t want to face the same disappointment again.’ Eventually, Seokmin stops asking and you can’t tell if it’s to protect your heart or his. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask the man at your side, and not for the first, second or third time either. In fact, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve repeated those words.

“Yeah, it’s been long enough,” he confirms, squeezing your hand slightly, with his long fingers locked between your own as he stares at the front door. The door of a home that was once yours, once his, and now someone else's. 

“It’s not like we’re on a time limit here, we don’t ever have to come back if you don’t want to.” 

“I need to see who lives in our house now,” he assures and bravely reaches out to open the washed-out door. 

It surprises you both that the entrance hall is lit, and you both quickly notice the mirror above the side table against the wall. 

“Didn’t expect that, not many houses have hall mirrors,” you admit.

“I meant to put one up, never got the chance,” Seokmin informs with a little grin before the two of you enter the house and shut the door behind you.

There’s no wind, no creepy crawlies, no strangers to follow you inside but you both still always shut entrance doors behind you as if holding on to that little piece of reality.

“Huh, it’s lit everywhere,” the man comments as he peers around the living room doorway, and then the kitchen doorway opposite. “What weirdo puts a mirror in their kitchen?” 

“A big one.” 

“Big one,” Seokmin giggles, making you let go of him to shove him. “Hey!” He laughs as he stumbles, and then looks at you with an attempt at a stern expression, yet he’s still smiling too much and his eyes sparkle with the same joy he always looks at you with. You can’t say that yours don’t hold that same glimmer for him either. 

“What?” You reply innocently while backing up towards the stairs. 

All Seokmin does is point a finger at you in warning before you’re turning and running up the stairs while laughing happily, with him right on your shadow making dramatic growling sounds. 

He’s getting much better at those noises too; he rarely even chokes in his attempts these days. You’re oddly proud of him for that.

As you run through the house, you vaguely notice that Seokmin’s observation from downstairs seems to be correct up here; every room and hallway is lit with at least one mirror per room. It’s very strange. 

You barrel into the en-suite of the master bedroom without thought and try to shut the door on Seokmin to playfully lock him out, but he’s too close and slams it open. 

“Huh?” The deep, male voice makes you both freeze, then look over to the mirror expecting to see someone there. But from this angle, the room on the other side of the glass looks entirely empty. 

You motion for Seokmin to stay there and quiet before you turn and sneak further into the room to try and figure out where the man on the other side is. 

Though the bathroom is entirely empty, so you stop and stare confusedly at the mirror. “I can’t-” you start to tell Seokmin that you can’t see anything, yet suddenly from the doorway in the reflection, the very edge of a person steps into the room so you quickly clamber into the bath and lay flat against the porcelain hoping that the stranger won’t be able to see you in the reflection. It’s a pretty big bath with high edges that you got installed yourself so that you can soak properly. You briefly wonder how long ago that was.

You have no idea what Seokmin is doing; you can’t really risk lifting to pop your head out from the bath just in case the stranger is still in the bathroom and facing the mirror. The last thing you need is to scare the man into falling and cracking his head on the tiles. You may not live in the house anymore, but you really don’t want it to be home to a ghost just in case you do manage to return one day.

Although there is literally only one person it can be, when Seokmin suddenly appears leaning over the bath a few moments later, you shriek in surprise, making him laugh.

“Who’s there?!” Comes from the other side of the glass followed by rapidly approaching footsteps. 

A shared, panicked look passes between yourself and Seokmin before you reach up to grab his t-shirt at the same time as he climbs into the bath. You pull him chest to chest and wind an arm around his waist to urge him as close to you as possible while your free hand cups the back of his head to tuck his face into your neck. 

You really hope that the sides of the bath are tall enough to block Seokmin from the mirror’s view too. This is a rather…awkward position to be caught in.

“I swear I heard something…” The stranger mutters, voice clear enough despite the distortion of the mirror that you can tell he’s in the bathroom. “Maybe I should stop drinking energy drinks at midnight.” 

“He does what?” Seokmin whispers appalled against your skin. 

You don’t know if you should laugh, shove him away from your sensitive skin or pull him closer encouragingly. You decide to do none of the above, both because you don’t know how to react and because you really don’t want to get caught like this by the stranger.

“Whatever, guess I’ll just go to bed,” the man mutters before noisily leaving the room in a way entirely opposite to how he had entered. 

It feels like he made himself heavy footed and closed the door so audibly on purpose, so when Seokmin starts to move, you hold him tighter to keep him still. 

Thankfully, Seokmin listens to your silent demand and fits himself as close to you as possible, where he remains perfectly still except for the rise and fall of his torso as he breathes carefully to not risk his back rising too much. 

Each breath blows hotly over your neck and honestly, you want to scream. It’s too much to have the attractive man so close; you’re pretty sure you can feel his flaccid dick pressed between your bodies and it’s taking everything in you to not focus on that.

“Fuck,” the stranger curses under his breath after what feels like hours of being laid there. It must’ve only been a minute or so though, you don’t imagine he would waste so much time on trying to catch what he must assume is a ghost in his bathroom. 

This time, the open and consequent close of the door is at a much more believable level and you assume the man has given up and actually gone to bed this time. 

Still, you wait, counting out 3 minutes in your head before you loosen your hold on Seokmin. 

Slowly, he lifts his head out of the gap beside your neck and tentatively pushes up to cautiously peer over the edge of the bath to the mirror. When he lets out a breath of relief, you know that the coast is clear.

“He’s going to be tricky,” Seokmin comments, keeping his voice quiet as he looks back down at you. 

“Did you happen to notice where the mirror is in the bedroom?” 

“No.” 

“Me neither,” you frown a little. “We can’t risk it, even opening the door could be seen if the mirror is in the right place.” 

“So, we stay in the bathroom forever?” 

“I imagine he will leave the bathroom door open at some point and hopefully we can figure out where he is or hear him leave the bedroom so we can sneak out then.” 

“Isn’t the whole house full of mirrors?” 

“Don’t remind me,” you complain, prodding at his waist, making him jerk and let out a truly disturbing sound from the sudden ticklish jab. It probably says a lot about how long you two have been around each other that you don’t even react to the sound anymore, and he doesn’t get embarrassed about it like he used to.

Sometimes, you do genuinely wonder how long you have been stuck together now. How many days you’ve spent side by side sharing space in a way you never have with anyone before. You really don’t think you’ve ever developed such a deep connection with anyone before. You don’t think you will again either.

But mostly, you try not to think about how the world keeps spinning without you, and the fact that the world could end and you might not even notice for decades if you don’t go to the right lit places. 

You’ve never let Seokmin in on that thought process though, you don’t think he would be able to handle that potential truth.

“So, bathtub sleepover?” Seokmin grins, as if this doesn’t even bother him. 

It’s strange how such a soft man can be so unperturbed by things like this. You do wonder what kind of a life he lived before this to let so much just roll off his back, but you don’t ask about it. You don’t want to remind the sweet man of all he has been forced to leave behind thanks to you. 

Seokmin has cried and broken down in front of you before, somewhat regularly at the start when he would remember something; a schedule he’s been forced to miss, or a memory prompted by something you pass or interact with. And every single time as you held him and listened to him sob his broken heart out, yours shattered too. 

You think your heart has ached more for him than it ever has your own loss. You think it hurt worse seeing him cry that first time than any of the times an incantation had failed and you realised you’re still stuck here for however much longer. 

At first, you hadn’t tried hard, or at all, to entertain Seokmin or play along with his games, but now you’ll go along with anything he wants if it keeps him smiling. You never want to see him so broken again. Watching him cry even once, is one time too many.

Lee Seokmin deserves nothing but good things and you’ll do everything in your power to try and hold yourself to that silent, secret promise to make him happy for the rest of your lives.

“Bathtub sleepover,” you agree with a simple nod.

Together, you shuffle around until you’re laid on your sides against the porcelain and facing one another. 

Not for the first time, you’re struck by how beautiful Seokmin is as you lay there looking at one another. It’s a dangerous position to be in. You usually don’t face each other for very long like this because you don’t trust yourself to not act on the way your heart feels so full of love for this man yet beats harder against your ribs as if trying to shove you closer to him with every thud. 

Yet when you find yourself inches from Seokmin, it’s not because of your own actions.

Seokmin has moved closer to you until your legs are tangled and his left palm is hovering so close to your cheek that you can practically feel his touch already. 

A soft murmur of your name follows, blows over your lips like an unspoken question. Like an answer, you tilt your chin upwards, lessening that little gap between your faces. He lets out a shaky breath of relief before tilting in and kissing you softly. 

His hand gently lands on your cheek to allow his fingers to curve against the shape of you and hold you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever touched. 

It feels like a lot. Like almost too much. Like that rapid thudding of your heart is trying to send the words you’ve been holding in your chest out of your throat and into the air between you. You kiss him harder to stop them from flowing.

In return, Seokmin’s hand holds you tighter, his legs curl to tug you that bit closer as he presses against you and teases your mouth open easily with his to flit his tongue out in search of your own.

The mirror world is perpetually at room temperature, it never gets hot or cold, but right now you think you could burn up if not for the natural cool of the porcelain pressed against your back as he urges closer and traps you there between his heated body and the bath.

“Shit, shit, fuck,” Seokmin curses amongst heavy breaths as he suddenly pulls back with his eyes squeezed tightly closed. 

You can only stare at him dumbly, utterly dazed by the way he had kissed you as if trying to devour you entirely in the most incredible of ways. 

Slowly, you both gather your breath back. 

Seokmin shuffles back, giving you space again as his eyes flutter open to peer at you with uncertainty. “I’m sorry,” he apologises softly.

“What? Why?” 

“For…kissing you like that.” 

“Did I push you away?”

“I backed you against the side, I-” 

“Seok,” you interrupt, and scoot closer to take his face into your hands. He looks at you with round eyes, some of his nerves melting away at your tender touch. “You did nothing I didn’t like, except move away.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Mm, I’d tell you if you do anything I don’t like.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you nod and seal it with a sweet kiss that makes Seokmin smile at you when you settle back down and put your arm around his waist. “You’ll tell me too, yeah?” 

“Mm, yeah,” he agrees. “Lift your head.” You do as he asked, even if you don’t understand why. Though it makes sense when he moves his right arm out from between your bodies to lay across the gap where your head was a moment ago, allowing you to use his bicep as a pillow. “I’ve always wanted to hold you like this.” 

“Take this as permission that you can, whenever you want,” you hum as you curl up against him and tangle your legs back together while your eyes shut. “I like cuddling.” 

“I like you.” Your eyes blow wide open, and you look at him. “What? You think I kiss any woman I meet in the mirror like that?” He scoffs a teasing laugh. 

“Maybe, I don’t know what you got up to before meeting me.” 

“You never ask.” 

“I don’t want to remind you of what you lost because of me.” 

Seokmin’s smile is understanding as he leans down to kiss you softly. “It was my choice. I wanted to help you, and it didn’t work, it’s not your fault. I’ve never blamed you for me being stuck here, Sunshine.” 

“I haven’t even tried to figure it out, I gave up trying to find a way out,” you admit in a voice so soft it could almost be considered a whisper. 

“You don’t want to go back?” He looks at you confusedly. “I thought you did?” 

“It’s been a long time for me, Seokie, I don’t know how long, but things have changed in the real world. I’ve seen technology change so much since I’ve been stuck here. It’s not a world I know anymore. I have nothing left out there.” 

“You’ll have me.” 

“It could just be a year or so for you, maybe less, you might still have a life to go back to.” 

“And I’ll take you with me,” he promises, talking a little firmer when you open your mouth to retort. “I want you by my side when we go back. You’re my Sunshine, you make me happy-” 

“If you start singing that song,” you warn, giving him a stern look that makes him giggle.

“I wasn’t going to. I was just stating facts. You do make me happy, and I can’t imagine living without you. When we go back out there, we’ll be together, okay? I’m not going to abandon you for my old life. I want to make a new life with you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“More sure than I have ever been about anything. I…I love you and it’s okay if you don’t love me back, I can wait. Or…well I love you and I’ll accept whatever you’re willing to give me.” 

“You’re so fucking stupid.” 

“Thanks,” he deadpans. “That’s exactly what I want to hear when I declare my love for the first time to the only woman I’ve said those words to and know I won’t to anyone else.”

“Seriously? You’ve never loved anyone before?” 

“Not like this. If we were out there, I’m pretty sure I’d have bought an engagement ring ages ago.” 

“So fucking stupid,” you reiterate desperately, before kissing him in the same way. Seokmin makes a surprised noise yet quickly melts against you, gripping a fistful of your t-shirt at your back as you press close to one another. 

“Giving me mixed messages,” he murmurs dazedly when you pull apart and look at one another. “You can’t call me stupid for loving you then kiss me like…like you…” 

“I didn’t call you stupid for loving me, I think that’s very wise, a great decision to love the person who would do everything possible to make you happy because they’re so fucking in love with you-” you’re cut off by Seokmin surging in to kiss you with the same desperation you had kissed him with a minute ago. 

“You love me?” He rushes out, during a quick break he creates in the kiss, yet doesn’t give you the chance to answer as he slots his lips back against yours.

With the passion Seokmin kisses you, you understandably assume things are going to develop and clothes fly off. Yet when you slide your hand under his t-shirt and barely get to feel his toned stomach, he turns his head out of the kiss and grabs your hand to still your movements. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask confused. 

“Not like this,” he replies, fluttering his eyes open as he turns his head back to look at you, now leaned up a little so that you can peer at one another comfortably. 

“Then don’t kiss me like that!” You complain and remove your hands from him entirely to cross over your chest. “I thought you want to fuck me and got excited for nothing.” 

“I do, I do, like so much. Seriously, Sunshine, I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long,” he assures so seriously that you believe him, and can’t help but giggle at how serious he is while talking about wanting to have sex with you. 

“Then why not now?” 

“I really don’t want our first time to be in a bathtub, babe,” he chuckles, and shuffles back to create a less heated gap between you, where he settles and tugs you in to cuddle. “Once we get out of this bathroom, we’ll go find a nice bed where I can lay you down and worship you like you deserve.” 

“Seok…” you murmur shyly, before tilting your head up to kiss his jaw softly. “You’re too good for me.” 

“Nah, I think I’m just right for you, Goldilocks.” 

It must be the next day when you wake to the muffled sound of the shower running. Carefully, you wriggle out of Seokmin’s hold and roll over to peer over the top of the bath. 

The mirror on the opposite wall is big enough that at this angle, you can catch sight of the shower and a male figure blissfully unaware under the water with his back to the mirror. 

Knowing that this is your chance, you turn over and put a hand over Seokmin’s mouth so that he doesn’t make a loud sound as you nudge him awake. His resulting snuffle is muffled so well under your palm that you barely catch it. 

He looks blearily offended at being woken up, but when you signal him to be quiet as you remove your hand from his mouth, he understands and nods to show as much.

One of you always keeps watch on the mirror as the two of you manoeuvre out of the tub silently, and then out of the bathroom. 

“Oh, thank fuck,” you breathe out as the two of you walk further into the lit master bedroom. 

Seokmin makes a noise of agreement, then tugs you in to kiss sweetly. “Good morning, Sunshine.” 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Seokmin’s eyes round out at the pet-name and he gives you such a soft, adoring look that you find yourself kissing him before you’ve even registered it. A self-preservation instinct to prevent yourself from melting into a pile of goo from the loving expression of the man who owns your heart, soul, and ass.

There must be some residual tension in you both, left over from your tryst in the tub however many hours ago it was. Although the kiss started innocently enough, it doesn’t last long and you both get lost in the feeling of the other’s mouth as hands travel with interest over one another.

All thoughts of the man in the shower completely leave your mind. All you can think about is Seokmin and how you want to feel his mouth and hands all over you.

Clearly, Seokmin has the same thoughts in mind, because in no time at all, you’re at the edge of the bed with your top and bra somewhere on the floor behind where the man is kneeling before you and working on removing all of your clothing.

Of course, you’ll be damned if you don’t even the score; as soon as he’s got you naked and tries to lean down between your thighs, you reach out and tug on his t-shirt. Seokmin isn’t shy at all about yanking the material off of his torso and once you can see his beautiful, toned body, you understand why he didn’t hesitate.

“Well, shit,” you murmur, dragging your hungry gaze over his skin.

“Mm, can I taste you now?” Comes his distracted reply, eyes glued between your thighs with nothing but pure desire in his dark eyes.

“Get naked first.”

“Fully naked?” He lifts his head just enough to peer at you mostly through his lashes. “Can I keep my boxers on for now?”

“Why?”

“I want to focus on you but I get distracted when my dick’s out,” he admits sheepishly. “I’ll think it’s time to fuck you but I want to make you cum on my tongue first.”

“Well, I can’t reasonably say no to that,” you muse and hook your fingers under the waistband of his jeans to pull him closer. “C’mere.”

Seokmin doesn’t need to be told twice, he’s more than happy to crowd up against your front to kiss you while your hands work on his button and zipper. He helps you shove the denim down his thighs, which are way thicker than you had realised.

The reveal makes you stare at him dumbly as he sits on his butt to shimmy the material off of his legs in a frankly awkward looking manoeuvre. It says a lot for how attractive the man is, and perhaps how whipped you are for him, that even the ungraceful flapping of his legs to kick off his jeans and toe of his socks, doesn’t dampen your arousal at all.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” He questions upon getting back on his knees and facing you, only to realise that you’re staring at him with widened eyes and mouth parted in shock.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” you reply almost breathlessly. “How are you real? Did I make you up for company after being stuck in here so long?” You touch his chest and marvel at how solid his heated skin is under your palms. “This is a very vivid hallucination.”

“Baby,” he chuckles shyly while putting his hands over yours to press your hands flat to his skin. “I’m real, you’re real, this is real.”

“Fuck.”

“You okay?”

You lift your gaze from staring at his body to look into his utterly adoring gaze that is already locked on you. “I am never letting you leave me.”

Seokmin’s cheeks bunch as he smiles at you all big and genuinely happy. “I’m never going to want to.”

“Good.” You slide your hands out from under his to flow down his body, trace over his abs and around his waist to pull him as close as possible with your hands firm against his lower back. Seokmin makes a surprised, yet very happy and interested, sound at your actions before his lips are back on yours and filled with a new layer of hunger.

When you’re both breathing heavily and the kiss breaks, he starts a trail of heavy kisses down your neck, stopping to tongue over the swell of your breasts from between them as he pushes them in closer either side of his face so that he only has to turn his head and adjust a little to give both attention.

Though he doesn’t stay there long, the man is on a mission he is determined to succeed in. His path travels lower and you lean back on your palms to give him easier access to worship your stomach with his mouth.

Obviously, it’s been a long time for you, but you’re very certain that nobody has ever taken the time to give your body so much attention like this, not without it being a means to an end. But this, this certainly isn’t a partner building you up ready to fuck.

This is a man who is taking his time to love on every inch of your precious body because he wants to, because he enjoys doing it and showing you how beautiful he finds you without words.

If possible, you think you fall a little more in love with Seokmin with every press of his adoring, attentive lips to your skin. If your breath wasn’t already hitching and chest stuttering with the mix of intense arousal and love for this man, you would tell him those three words you know he’s pressing into your skin.

Perhaps that’s why you feel so full of love for him right now; he’s filling you with so much of his own that yours is overflowing and wanting to spill out to him. Like a never-ending feedback circle. You think that doesn’t sound so bad. A never-ending love with Lee Seokmin sounds pretty wonderful, actually.

The words are about to fly free from your mouth when his lips press against your clit and your eyes fly wide in surprise. You hadn’t even realised you had closed your eyes, or that his head is now between your thighs; you had been too caught up in the sensation of being loved and doted on so thoroughly.

“I love you,” you blurt, making Seokmin freeze in surprise at the sudden declaration. Which immediately makes you laugh because he has his tongue halfway out of his mouth with clearly every intention of swiping it against you. “You’re so cute.”

“What?” He garbles out around his still poked tongue, then abruptly pulls it back into his mouth looking a little embarrassed, though he quickly smiles at you and presses a kiss to your stomach just above your belly button. “I love you too, Sunshine. Now stop distracting me, I have important things to do.”

“Sorry, I’ll keep my love to myself from now on,” you retort playfully, and nudge his shoulder with your thigh.

“Good,” he jokes back. You nudge him again only to gasp loudly and fly one hand out to his head when he latches his mouth to your inner thigh in retaliation. He bites first, not too hard but hard enough that you know there will be a minor mark left behind. And then, he sucks on your flesh until you know without even looking that there will be a massive bruise left behind. It’s just a shame it won’t last.

Things kind of blur together after that. A haze of pleasure caused by a sinfully exquisite mouth licking and sucking your thighs and pussy; greedily slurping up every drop of arousal that drips out of you and smearing it against his chin and cheeks almost on purpose as if he’s trying to fucking bathe in it. But you barely notice that.

At some point, you drop onto your back against the mattress due to the intensity of pleasure running through your body thanks to the man between your thighs, who you are genuinely starting to think must be some kind of sex god based on his incredible physique and skill.

You don’t realise you’re on your back until your eyes flutter open with every intention of tilting your head down to look at Seokmin, you just know he has to look like sin personified right now. But you don’t get the chance.

As soon as your eyes are open, you find the mirror and spot the dark eyes staring intently at you from the other side.

You shriek and sit up, all but shoving Seokmin away in your rush to get your naked body off of the bed and out of the mirror’s view.

“What? What is it?” Seokmin asks, not even offended and instead looking more worried by your reaction. “Is it a spider?” He pales a little.

“I found the mirror,” you whisper, crouched a little to his side with your arms around your body as if the man in the real world can see you at this angle. But he had been reclined on his bed staring up at you enraptured. “Wait, that pervert!” You grab Seokmin’s t-shirt to yank over your head as its closest, then crawl onto the bed to glare up at the huge mirror fixed on the ceiling.

The man is still laid there with nothing but a towel around his waist, though he has one hand over his crotch, over the obvious bulge of his erection and you’re pretty sure it’s not out of any kind of shame.

“You were watching us!” You accuse, pointing up at him.

“If you don’t want me to watch, don’t have sex in my mirror,” he retorts simply, as if it’s so normal in his life to look up when laid in bed and see something in his mirror other than his own reflection. Then again, the man has a mirror above his bed, you’re pretty sure the guy lives a life very different to the one you lived pre-mirror. Mostly, you think he’s a giant fucking sexual deviant.

“We’re not in your mirror, pervert.”

“Looks it to me.” He shrugs and adjusts his position a little to bend one leg up, planting the flat of his foot casually on the mattress. It makes the towel blissfully hide his erection as the material slides down his thigh to bunch. You’re just glad it’s still long enough to hide what’s underneath from view.

You do not want to see this guy’s dick, no matter how generally attractive he is.

“If you’re not in my mirror, where are you?”

“A mirror world,” you answer simply, not seeing any harm in telling him that. He seems genuinely curious and something tells you to humour him at least a little.

“What’re you doing there?”

“Having a great time until you interrupted,” Seokmin grumbles from where he’s still on the floor at the edge of the bed, but now he’s got his arms folded on the mattress and head laid on them so he can look at you and the mirror.

The man looks over to Seokmin in the reflection as if he hadn’t even noticed him until now. Then again, he hadn’t moved his intense gaze from you at all so you’re not surprised. “So, I saw.”

“Hey!” Seokmin darts up onto the bed to stand in front of you and point threateningly up at the mirror. He’s still just in his boxers so the backs of his essentially bare thighs are right in your face and you can’t help but stare. They’re so thick and distracting. “That’s my girlfriend! Keep your eyes to yourself, pervert!”

“Relax, man, not like I can do more than touch, and I wouldn’t do that without her consent anyway.”

“Which she wouldn’t give; she’s in love with me,” Seokmin sounds so proud of that fact that you’re successfully pulled away from ogling his thighs to instead tilt your head back to peer up at the back of him with a smile.

You have no idea how you got so lucky to have the most precious man to have ever exist get himself stuck with you, and then fall in love with you, but you’re certainly glad about it. Not the stuck part, just the love and luck part.

“Sit down,” you giggle, tugging on Seokmin’s hips until he relents and drops down onto the bed in front of you while still glaring warningly up at the mirror. You wrap your arms around his waist and stretch your legs out either side of his. Seokmin gives the man in the mirror a smug look.

“You two look good together,” the man comments easily, mindlessly tracing his fingers over his lower stomach at the edge of his towel.

“Your erection already told us that,” you deadpan.

“That was because of you,” he informs shamelessly. “You’re gorgeous, you know?”

“She is and she’s mine,” Seokmin reiterates, making the man roll his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m not fucking stupid, I got that. I’m just paying a compliment, chill the fuck out, man.”

“Alright, you two, enough,” you scold them both gently, and press a kiss to Seokmin’s temple when he pouts at being told off. The soft kiss does its job and wipes the pout away, a content little smile replacing it on his lips.

“Did you die in my house or something?” The man asks, making you look back up at him. “Isn’t that how it works? You get stuck where you died?”

“We’re not dead,” Seokmin informs.

“What? You’re not ghosts?” The man looks genuinely disappointed, making you huff out a laugh. “Then what the fuck are you?” He’s almost pouting. Definitely sulking as he drops his leg down and crosses his arms over his chest while slouching further down against his pillows.

“Living humans,” Seokmin retorts, then turns his head to side eye you questioningly. You’re not sure when you two developed this silent communication to this degree exactly, but you know what he’s asking you without words and nod simply in permission. Seokmin looks back up at the mirror. “Well, she’s a witch.”

That makes the man perk up a little. “A witch? Really?” You nod in confirmation. “Do you know any ghosts?”

“Do you know any ghosts?” You retort with a scoff. “What makes you think I know any ghosts just because I’m a witch?”

“Just thought that, you know, supernatural beings…”

“What? You think we all know each other? Gather once a month for the monthly supernatural beings meeting?”

“I was just asking,” the man grumbles, once again pouting a little.

For a man who so confidently and shamelessly palmed his erection while watching you in the mirror not even ten minutes ago, he really seems to pout childishly a lot.

“Do you know any ghosts?” Seokmin takes the chance to turn his head to whisper to you.

“Oh, yeah,” you confirm just as quietly, making him giggle as he turns back around and leans happily back against your chest. “You seem very into ghosts,” you comment loudly to the man who peers back at you, lips still protruding a little.

“I’ve wanted to meet one for a long time,” he admits.

“Is that why your house is full of mirrors?” You muse, Seokmin looks very confused even if he remains quiet. “You hope you’ll trap a ghost in one, right?”

“I can’t tell if the fact you know that theory means it’s true or we’ve just been on the same websites,” he mutters.

“What’s a website?” You ask Seokmin in a whisper.

“Internet,” he answers just as quietly, to keep your conversation private. “I’ll show you when we get out. Maybe this guy can help, you can make a deal to introduce him to a ghost, bet he’ll at least try to help.”

“You may just be right there, sweetheart.” You hum thoughtfully as you look at the man above you for a few long seconds. “What if I can potentially help you out?” You offer.

“Help me out? By helping me meet a ghost?” The man asks and sits up abruptly, eyes wide in eagerness when you nod. “What do I need to do in return? I have money and I’ll let you fuck in all my mirrors without even looking and-”

“Alright, calm down ghost boy,” you snicker amusedly at the pure excitement on the man, he looks about two seconds from vibrating out of his skin and offering you his very soul in return for helping him meet a ghost. “Nothing like that, you help us and we’ll help you, no money or goods exchanged. Though you will need to get some supplies.”

“Yeah, sure…wait, you’re not going to like, sacrifice me or something, are you?”

Both you and Seokmin laugh.

“No,” you assure, shaking your head a little. “Nothing like that. It won’t hurt you at all, we just need you to perform a spell for us.”

“Yeah, sure,” he agrees easily. It would remind you of Seokmin’s own easy agreement however long ago, if it wasn’t for the fact this man doesn’t seem anywhere near as innocent and pure as Seokmin. Then again, you don’t think anyone is.

“Can we move to another mirror? this is really starting to hurt my neck,” Seokmin requests, already sitting up straight to roll his head around and stretch his neck.

“Mm, yeah,” you agree, so Seokmin gets off of the bed and starts to gather your clothes tossed over the floor while you look back at the man above you. “Is there a more reasonably placed mirror in this place?”

“There’s a dressing table in the next room,” the man informs while pointing to his right.

“Alright, meet you there. Put some clothes on though,” you suggest, though based on your firm expression, it’s not really a request, before you climb off of the bed.

“Fine.” You hear him mumble in response even if you’re no longer in front of the mirror.

“You look good in my shirt, by the way,” Seokmin murmurs to you when you’re on your feet in front of him where he’s already in his jeans and is fastening them.

“Maybe I should keep it then,” you suggest playfully.

“Is this you saying you want me to walk around topless?” He gasps theatrically and covers his nipples with his fingers, making you snort on a laugh. He breaks at the sound and laughs too while dropping his arms.

“If you were topless all the time, we’d only ever be doing one thing,” you give him a significant look that makes his lips twitch into a little smirk. You’re pretty sure you’ve never seen him smirk, and you’re pretty sure that he could make you do an insane number of things with that single look.

“That doesn’t sound so bad, doesn’t sound bad at all,” he reaches for his waistband, ready to remove the clothes he had just put back on.

“I can hear you two, you know!” The man’s exclamation makes both you and Seokmin jump before sharing a look, then giggling. “Can’t you keep your hands off of each other for five minutes so we can stick to our deal?”

“Sorry, pervert,” Seokmin calls sweetly.

The man sighs heavily. “My name is Wonwoo.”

Although Wonwoo eagerly runs off as soon as he’s copied the list you show him in the dressing table mirror to enthusiastically collect everything on it, it’s a few days before he attempts the incantation purely because it’s a few days before you show it to him.

After the last time that it went wrong, you know the previous version needed some work, and now that you have Seokmin at your side to think about, you really want to take time to mull over the spell and think through every step and syllable to get it right.  

And perhaps you did get distracted a few times by Seokmin sprawled over the bed keeping himself occupied with the items Wonwoo leaves in there once Seokmin asks him to decorate the spare room with something other than mirrors, even if Seokmin had called Wonwoo a pervert again.

Though Wonwoo had kept to his word and hasn’t spied on you two again, in fact he doesn’t even enter the spare room unless one of you has appeared to him in another mirror to request his presence. Maybe he’s not as much as a pervert as you both initially thought. Or maybe he just rates meeting a ghost more important than his voyeurism.

When you think you’ve got the incantation right after working over the spell so many times even Seokmin can recite it from memory in his sleep, you find Wonwoo in the lounge. The TV is on in front of him but he’s glued to his laptop and as the mirror is on the wall behind the couch, you can see the screen.

You don’t really know exactly what he’s doing, typing and looking somewhat intense, but you catch the big letters on the screen like a title; GFA.

“What’s that?” You ask curiously. Wonwoo immediately shrieks and flings himself off of the couch with his laptop. He hits his hip on the coffee table and knocks over his can of energy drink, but it is almost empty so even though it tips fully, only a few drops fly out before he manages to right it.

“Don’t sneak up one me!” He accuses, pointing a finger at you while closing his laptop with the other hand and sliding it suspiciously under the table.

“I would accuse you of watching porn but one, that was all writing and two, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t care if I caught you masturbating to sex videos.”

“Masturbating is nothing to be ashamed of and I’m not ashamed of my body or preferences so if you happen to see that, I don’t care.”

“Fair enough,” you shrug and lift the paper in your hand while climbing up onto the couch on your knees to press the sheet against the glass. Wonwoo scrambles over, kneeling on his couch to read the writing.

“I’m still very impressed that you can write backwards,” he comments offhandedly, flicking his gaze to you past the paper then back again.

“I’ve had a lot of time to develop useless talents.”

“It won’t be useless if this works. I’m pretty sure I’d mess up if you wrote normally and I had to try to reflect the words myself.”

“Mm, suppose.” You shrug. “Aren’t you going to copy it down?”

“Ah, right.” He nods in agreement, then wanders off to pick up a notepad from the side unit and a pen before returning. He stands there on the other side of the couch, pad resting on one hand as he routinely glances between it and the mirror to diligently copy the entire spell down. “What language is this?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, just curious.”

“Not one you need to worry yourself about. You won’t encounter it again.”

“It’s a dead language?”

“Not exactly, just not used by humans.”

“Ah, a supernatural language. Does each supernatural species have their own language?”

“What am I? An encyclopaedia?” Wonwoo pauses in his writing to look at you curiously. “What?”

“Just weird you say that.”

“How? Loads of people say that.”

“Most people now have never touched an encyclopaedia unless for a special interest.”

“What? But they’re so useful and full of knowledge!” You gawp. “How do you get all that information?”

“Google.”

“I don’t know anyone with that name.”

Wonwoo cracks a lopsided grin. “You’re really old, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Wow!” He grins brighter and climbs onto the couch to get closer, even if there’s no way he can actually reach you, still, you back up as much as you can without moving your hand from the mirror. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“And how long have you been twenty-six?”

“Since my twenty-sixth birthday,” you deadpan. “Just copy the fucking spell, pervert.”

“Alright, grandma.”

“I swear when I’m out of here, I’m going to choke you,” you warn, though immediately backpedal at the slight glint you notice in his eyes. “No wait, forget that; you’d probably like it.”

“Yeah,” he agrees so shamelessly that it makes you laugh. He grins at you, pleased at making you laugh, then focuses on copying down the rest of the spell.

“Aw, did you make it all romantic for us?” Seokmin coos as the pair of you enter Wonwoo’s bedroom and find that he’s lit a bunch of candles around the room and at the base of the mirror, which he had moved from the entrance hall wall and into here to prop against the wall at the foot of his bed.

Other than the mirror on his ceiling, this mirror is the biggest in the apartment even if it only reaches his chest. Still, it’s much better than trying to climb through anything smaller. You appreciate the effort.

“The guy in the store said I should get them, said they’d be useful to me,” Wonwoo answers where he’s kneeling in front of the mirror and focused on setting up the items around him.

You and Seokmin kneel in front of the mirror, and you smile as Seokmin tells Wonwoo where to put everything based on how you had told him when he performed the spell. You’re surprised he remembers so well; you really hadn’t expected him to even recall the ingredients used for the spell, yet he still seems to remember it all somehow.

“Alright, that’s everything,” Wonwoo announces when he’s done arranging it all and leans back to sit heavier on his feet and plant his hands on his thighs while lifting his gaze to look at you. “I just need to read the spell now, right?”

“Pretty much,” you confirm and shuffle a little in place. “Put one hand on the mirror as you read it so the magic flows into the right object.”

“Okay,” Wonwoo shuffles closer and puts his left hand to the mirror as he picks up the paper with his right.

“Don’t lean on it though,” Seokmin quickly warns. “Trust me.”

Wonwoo gives Seokmin a questioning look yet doesn’t say a word and just nods, lightening his palm against the glass a little before he focuses on the paper. “Ready?”

As soon as you and Seokmin have both agreed, Wonwoo takes a breath then starts to read.

Even though you have no access to magic and magic cannot enter the mirror world, you can feel it growing with every word Wonwoo speaks.

“It’s working,” you whisper awed, gripping Seokmin’s hand tighter in your own. Seokmin doesn’t respond other than lifting your connected hands up to place a kiss right where your fingers are laced together.

As Wonwoo recites the words, the glass shimmers while magic layers over it, before it melts away and the slight breeze of Wonwoo’s fan reaches you both. Seokmin gasps softly and holds your hands closer to his mouth.

By all means, it looks as if the spell is working and perfectly too. Wonwoo’s hand hovers in midair, though you can see a pressure against his skin showing that in the real world, the glass still exists.

There are still a few lines of the spell left so you sit very still in wait, as if any slight movement will ruin Wonwoo’s concentration or the spell, and this will once again fail.

Yet when Wonwoo finishes talking and looks at you, you still don’t move. “Aren’t you coming through?” He asks confusedly and slowly lowers his hand as if dragging it down the glass, but there’s nothing there and his fingers slip through into the mirror world.

“He’s not getting pulled through,” Seokmin whispers with wide eyes that he quickly turns on you. “That-that means we can go through, right?”

“I…I guess so,” you confirm and nod a little. “You first.”

“What? No, together,” he argues, turning to face you better with a frown on his face. “We’ll do it together, Sunshine.”

“It’s better to go one at a time. Wonwoo isn’t a witch, he has limited magic so we can’t say it will be strong enough to pass through together and I’d rather you go through first, Seok.”

“That makes no sense, you’re a witch! You could just magic me through if it closes between us! I’m just human, I can’t do that!”

“You can recast the spell in Wonwoo’s place.”

“I messed it up last time, I can’t-”

“I trust you, now go before it shuts with us both here.” You pull your hand from his and try to push him to the mirror.

“No, baby, you go-” Before Seokmin can argue anymore, you shove him backwards at the same time Wonwoo grabs the back of his t-shirt and yanks Seokmin through the mirror.

The pair tumble to the floor heavily, displacing items and breaking the only black candle in the room. Instantly, the mirror closes back up.

“No!” Seokmin yells, darting forward to run his hands over the glass and frame of the mirror as if he’ll find a secret compartment to open the doorway back up.

“Shit,” Wonwoo curses as he yanks his jumper sleeve over his hand to smack out the little fire on the carpet from the candle. Luckily, it goes out easily and Wonwoo picks the candle up to inspect carefully while Seokmin rushes to set all the other ingredients back up.

“Get another candle,” Seokmin orders, glancing at Wonwoo with eyes shining with the threat of tears.

“I can’t.”

Seokmin immediately whirls on Wonwoo, eyes wide and frantic. “What do you mean you can’t?!” He demands, reaching out to snatch the broken candle from Wonwoo’s hands, which he desperately tries to fix. “We can’t do the spell without this kind of candle!”

“The store is closed, it’s 1am, Seokmin.”

“When does it open?” Seokmin’s head snaps up to look at Wonwoo, not even trying to stop the tears that start to trickle down his cheeks. “We need to go as soon as it opens, Wonwoo! We can’t leave her in there! She’s been stuck there for so long!”

“I know, I know,” Wonwoo soothes, reaching out to hold Seokmin by his shoulders. “We’ll go first thing, okay? We’ll get her out tomorrow, I promise.”

“You mean it?” Seokmin sniffles and Wonwoo nods, offering his pinkie. Shakily, Seokmin removes one hand from the candle to link his pinkie with Wonwoo’s to seal the deal. He wipes his face dry on the back of his arm before he faces you with a watery smile. “We’ll get you out tomorrow, baby, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree softly and offer a soft smile that Seokmin returns.

An hour later, you watch the two men fall asleep on Wonwoo’s bed, exhausted from the magic, and change of atmosphere in Seokmin’s case. Yet even as you lay there staring up at the mirror on the ceiling above you, counting the rise and fall of Seokmin’s chest to try and lull yourself, you don’t sleep at all.

“We should make a habit of this,” you comment where you’re sitting on the counter beside the sink in Wonwoo’s en-suite and facing the mirror where you can see Seokmin enjoying his first shower in potentially years. And you are enjoying the sight of your naked boyfriend’s skin pinkening in the heat of the shower as water trails down his body and glistens in all his delicious dips and curves.

“What?” Seokmin peers over his shoulder at you and squints to protect his eyes from the water. “You want to shower together?”

“That’d be nice, but I just mean watching you shower,” you answer honestly and let your gaze obviously drag up and down his body.

“Baby,” he chuckles, partly shy and partly scolding. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I’ll get hard.”

“And?” You smirk and lean back on your palms behind you at the edge of the counter.

You know that if Seokmin was in the room with you, he’d panic over the position and make you sit upright so you don’t risk toppling backwards. But there’s a mirror separating you and steam fogging up his side of the glass enough that he can’t clearly see you anyway.

“Put on a little show for me, huh, sweetheart?” You suggest with a smirk.

“I don’t think Wonwoo would like me jerking off in his shower.”

“Think of it as getting back at him for watching us.”

Seokmin makes a considering face before abruptly turning to face the mirror, and then drag his hand over his abs down towards his hardening cock.

Just as he gets his hand around it, dark gaze locked on you through the glass, there’s loud knocking at the door making him shriek in surprise and you groan in annoyance.

You can’t clearly make out what Wonwoo says on the other side of the door thanks to the noise of the shower echoing through the mirror, but Seokmin can and responds in an affirmative before he looks at you. “Wonwoo’s back.”

“Yes, I got that, baby,” you tease. “Unless he found a ghost all on his own.”

“Right,” he grins sheepishly. “He’s setting everything up.”

“Okay,” you swing around to jump off of the counter.

Seokmin whines when you start to walk away so you backstep and look at him. “You’re leaving me?” He pouts at you.

“I’ll see you in a minute,” you giggle. “And then a little after that, I’ll be kissing your pretty face.”

“Not if I kiss you first,” he jokes, winking at you and consequently somehow getting water in his eye. “Ow!”

You wait until Seokmin is no longer whining and fussing over his eye before you exit the bathroom and sit in front of the mirror to watch Wonwoo check over everything.

“Wonwoo,” you call softly so he looks up at you. He had heard you sit down, heard the faint rustle of your clothing through the mirror but he had been too focused to greet you, not that you much care. “Will you cast it?”

“What? Me?” His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I thought Seokmin was going to?”

“That was last night when you had already cast it once. You’ve rested and eaten since then so you have the energy back.”

“Okay, but why not Seokmin? Is he not strong enough or something?”

“He’s plenty strong enough, I just… I’m not sure what condition I will be in once I step through. I’ve had no magic for so long, been stuck in this world for so long that I’m not sure how the real world will affect me anymore.”

“Like…badly?”

“It won’t kill me, but it might hurt. I…I’ve done a lot of questionable spells in my life that have left marks on me, marks that were very painful to gain in the first place so I can’t imagine regaining all of that feeling all at once will be particularly pleasant.”

“Oh, no, I suppose not,” Wonwoo murmurs. “You don’t want him to see you like that.”

“It’s not that, I imagine it’ll be inevitable that he sees it, but I just don’t want him to feel responsible for whatever happens, any pain I may feel once I’m there.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods in understanding. “I can cast it. Is there anything I need to do before then, to prepare for when you’re back? To help?”

“There isn’t time to prepare for any eventualities, just if any fires appear, throw sugar on them.”

“Sugar? On fire?”

“Fire sprites love sugar.”

“Fire sprites, cool, right.” Wonwoo nods absently, absorbing the words, before he turns his head to the bathroom. “The shower shut off.”

“Let’s do this now.”

Wonwoo only nods once in agreement before his left hand is on the glass and he’s reading from the paper in his right.

Seokmin enters the bedroom with his hair dripping onto the small towel around his bare shoulders and a pair of Wonwoo’s shorts hanging low on his hips when Wonwoo is halfway through the spell. You just smile at him when he walks over with wide eyes, shocked that Wonwoo is reading the spell he thought he was supposed to cast. But he doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t want to risk it failing.

As soon as Wonwoo is finished reciting the spell, he reaches through the mirror and you grab his hand. As he pulls, you launch yourself forward while squeezing your eyes closed, just in case.

When your eyes open, you find Wonwoo’s own already open and on you from where he’s laid against the carpet with his right arm around your waist and his left trapped between your bodies with both of yours.

“Hey,” he greets with a lopsided grin.

“Hi,” you reply a little dumbly, then laugh disbelievingly and sit up, uncaring that you’re on his hips. Wonwoo doesn’t seem too bothered by it either and just lets you sit there to take in his bedroom from the real world. “Smells cleaner than I expected for a pervert.”

“Hey!” Wonwoo bats your thigh, though he’s grinning still and not really offended.

“Sunshine,” Seokmin’s soft voice makes you look directly at him. He’s kneeling just outside of the ring of magical ingredients, the black candlestick still burning away and keeping the doorway open.

“One sec,” you speak and clamber off of Wonwoo to blow out the candle and seal your mirror world back up.

You have no idea if you will be able to open the door again now that there’s nothing there; the spell Wonwoo read was designed for living things, not an empty shell, after all. The mirror world could be lost to you now and honestly, you think you’re kind of glad about it.

Though when you turn to face Seokmin with every intention of throwing yourself at your handsome boyfriend, your head starts to spin and your sight goes fuzzy at the edges.

Something must be happening to you outwardly too, because even through the rapidly growing blur, you can clearly make out the panic on Seokmin’s face. You don’t hear him call your name as he darts over to catch you before you hit the floor, but you see his mouth moving to make the syllables.

For a second you fear that the last time he says your name to you will be lost to the buzzing in your ears, but then everything goes black and you’re unable to feel anything anymore.

“Hey,” you know the voice even if it takes you a moment to place it.

“You,” you grumble, turning your head a little.

You hear a gasp and someone yelling in the room, but you can’t make sense of it; your hearing is muffled like you’re underwater.

“So, you’re finally back, huh?” He muses. Even as just a voice projected into your head, you can practically see his amused grin. “About time, I was getting bored.”

You barely make a noise in response and focus on trying to lift your heavy arms in an attempt to rub at your ears and try to displace whatever is blocking your hearing, but you can’t lift your limbs even an inch before having to drop them again.

“I’d take it easy if I were you, kiddo, your magic is unstable so that sweet little witch nurse has put a suppressant on you. Of course, you could easily break it, but then you’d likely lose control and hurt your new boyfriend. I’ll be by to meet him when the time is right, by the way. Gotta play my role right, huh?” He sniggers. “Just relax and let the nurse witch bring you back piece by piece; you’ve been without magic for decades now, you can handle a few more weeks of being weaned back into it. Oh, gotta go, a certain someone’s fluttering for attention. Look after yourself, kiddo, I’ll be around soon enough.”  

You feel the presence in your mind leave and your hearing starts to filter back in.

“Sunshine? Are you awake?” Even dulled around the edges, the sound of Seokmin’s gentle, caring voice has your heart thrumming happily in your chest and your lips tilting up slightly in the start of a smile. “Ah, there she is,” he whispers as your eyes flutter open and land on him where he’s leaning over the bed from your right, one hand on the beside table to support him and the other holding your hand on your ribs. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Seokmin smiles brighter and sniffles as he sits on the bed at your side and wipes his cheeks yet the tears keep rolling down. “I was so scared I had lost you.”

“Told you, I’m never letting you go,” you remind and squeeze his hand in yours.

He laughs softly and leans over to nuzzle into your cheek before just staying there and breathing you in. You can feel his tears of relief rolling down onto your ear, and it’s a little ticklish, but you don’t try to move him and instead bring your free hand up to run through his messy hair.

“Hey,” Wonwoo’s voice makes you remove your focus from Seokmin and look over to where Wonwoo is standing at the foot of the bed with who must be the nurse witch. At the very least, he’s the only other person here and you can feel the magic in him. But he’s certainly not little like the voice in your head had said.

This guy is taller than Wonwoo and although it’s not by much, the pure breadth of the guy makes him look twice the size of Wonwoo, even if the stranger is slouched a little, making himself look smaller as he smiles politely at you.

“This is Mingyu, we met on a chat site,” Wonwoo introduces.

Before you can question what that is, Seokmin speaks up softly, “Internet thing.”

“He’s a nurse so I called him to come make sure you don’t die on us.”

“Nurse, huh?” You question, raising an eyebrow at Mingyu who grins sheepishly at you. When you raise a questioning eyebrow and purposely push against the containment spell he has on your magic in a way that he’ll sense it and understand what exactly you’re asking, he shakes his head a little, telling you that no Wonwoo does not know that he’s a witch.

It's not your place to out anyone so you just hum and nod in thanks. “Appreciate you coming you help out a stranger, Mingyu, thank you.”

“Of course,” Mingyu replies with a genuine smile. “I’m always happy to help where I can. How are you feeling?”

“Heavy.” Seokmin immediately leans off of you, thinking he’s causing it but you pull him back and hold him until he gets comfortable tucked up against your side with his head on your shoulder and face tucked into your neck, one arm and leg slung around you.

“That should pass, you just need a lot of rest and to take things easy for a while.”

“Mm, okay,” you agree easily.

“I need to get going for my shift now but I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Wonwoo has my number if you need me before then for any reason.” You just nod in understanding so Mingyu turns and leaves with Wonwoo right behind him to walk him out.

“Are you really feeling okay, other than the heavy thing?” Seokmin asks softly a few seconds later.

“Yeah. It’s just my magic returning and my body readjusting to real life.” Something suddenly occurs to you making you inhale sharply and curse, “fuck.”

“What? What is it?” Seokmin leans up onto his elbow to look down at you worriedly.

“Just realised I’m going to have to actually eat, drink and use the toilet again now,” you mutter displeased. Seokmin’s expression turns relieved, understanding that you’re not in pain like he had feared, before he chuckles and settles back down against you. “It’s all so inconvenient.”

“Yeah, I got used to not having to do any of that and Wonwoo keeps reminding me to stay hydrated especially.”

“Bet he loves that,” you joke.

“He says it’s like he’s my dad, except I’m older than him and he’s seen me eating out my girlfriend, so we have a messed-up family.”

“We do,” you agree, making him laugh. “So, I guess that means you know how long since you got stuck with me there?”

“Four years. I should be thirty-one right now, but I’m not.”

“Ah, you can integrate back into your previous life with little issue; the lack of aging for four years isn’t a big deal.”

“Mm, Wonwoo tried getting me to call my family but I’ve been too worried that you wouldn’t wake up. But now you’re awake, I’ll call them and tell them that…I don’t know, I don’t really have a reason for being missing for four years. I don’t want them to think I got kidnapped or something.”

“The alternate is that you willingly left, Seokie.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” he sighs heavily and turns his face into your neck.

He surely can’t breathe with how closely he’s tucked in but you leave him to it. A handful of seconds later, he turns his head back around and takes a few big breaths to refill his lungs properly.

“Maybe I can just claim amnesia for the past few years. I went for a walk, fell over and hit my head, and woke up in some stranger’s house unable to remember anything. And that stranger turned out to be the love of my life and now four years later, my memories have returned and I want to introduce her to my family ahead of our wedding.”

“I wasn’t aware you’re getting married, Mr Lee.”

“Mm, told you; I would’ve already bought you an engagement ring by now in the real world and you know, if I’ve not been in some magical alternate world for the past four years, that means I would’ve proposed to my girlfriend ages ago and we’d be planning our wedding.”

“Assuming she’d accept the proposal.”

Seokmin darts up to lean over you with a pout. “You would reject me?”

“Guess you’ll have to get a ring and find out, huh?”

“I will,” he promises, looking so earnestly determined and so, so, so precious that you can’t help but giggle adoringly before tugging him down to kiss. “I love you, Sunshine.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“Will you meet my parents though?”

“In a few weeks once I’m all better,” you agree easily, making him smile.

“Okay, I’ll hold off making the call until then because I know they’ll want to meet right away. And it’ll give us time to get our stories straight and time to buy a ring…shit…I’m broke.”

“Guess you need to get a job then,” you peer around the room, then start to shuffle. “Help me sit.”

Once you’re upright, you look around the room again to realise that you’re in the spare room, the room you and Seokmin shared in the mirror world.

Wonwoo enters with a tray holding a big bowl of something steaming and a couple bottles of water. “You look as if you’re looking for something,” he comments as he hands the tray to Seokmin, then climbs up to your free side and gets comfortable himself.

“Have you had the floors redone since living here?” You wonder, looking at Wonwoo who shakes his head so you look at Seokmin. “Did you?”

“No, why?” Seokmin asks as he mixes the spoon around the bowl. You quickly glance at the contents and realise it’s some kind of thin soup, then look away to the corner by the door. “Pull up the carpet there and the third board in.”

“What? Why?” Wonwoo looks at you like you’re crazy. “Do your witchy powers know something?”

“No,” you scoff. “My memory knows something.”

“Wait, you’ve been in this house before?” He gawps.

“It was hers before it was mine,” Seokmin informs.

“Wait, are you the woman who went missing here in the 60s?” Wonwoo looks at you and Seokmin chokes on absolutely nothing. You just nod. “Dude, you’re dating someone older than your parents.” Wonwoo grins at Seokmin.

“S-seriously?” Seokmin looks at you with wide eyes.

“I don’t know how old your parents are but I assume so, I was born in 1938,” you admit with a little wince knowing exactly how it sounds, even if you look 26 still, you’re a hell of a lot older. You don’t really want to know what the year is but you don’t have much of a choice.

“Well, you’re the hottest 90-year-old I’ve ever seen,” Wonwoo jokes, before cracking up laughing at the look you give him, half murderous for mentioning your age and half shocked that it’s quite that old.

“My grandma is only 82,” Seokmin’s dumbfounded mutter makes Wonwoo laugh hard enough that he has to get up and leave the room. “No, wait, 86 now I guess.”

“Please stop,” you plead as you look back at Seokmin. “I am this close to having a mental breakdown, I didn’t realise it’s been that long for me.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I suppose it has, huh?” He frowns at you a little. “It’s a whole new world for you, I can understand now why you didn’t care if you returned or not.”

“Yeah,” you tentatively touch your fingers to his where they’re curled around the edge of the tray on his lap to keep it still. “I…I understand if you want to call your parents now and go back to them and…forget the past four years for real.”

“What?” He quickly puts the tray on the side table so that he is free to face you fully and take your face into his hands, making you look up at him instead of staring forlornly at the gap that no longer exists between you. “Sunshine, I’m not going anywhere. I told you that, remember? You said you’re never letting me go and I said I won’t want to go anyway. I mean that.”

“Still? Even knowing that I could’ve babysat your grandma?” You ask, unintentionally pouting at him a little with round eyes of worry.

“I won’t lie, that would be weird, but also kind of funny,” he giggles, then leans forward to kiss you softly. “I love you, Sunshine, and I’m going to marry you and maybe…we can have a family of our own. You can teach them how to do cool spells and I’ll teach them that age doesn’t mean a thing when your wife is as hot as mine is.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you huff, yet break into a smile and pull him in by his t-shirt to kiss.

You’re disturbed a few minutes later by a noise in the corner and look over to find Wonwoo ripping up the carpet, a toolbox at his side.

“The third board?” Wonwoo asks loudly a moment later when he’s got the carpet back far enough.

“If I remember correctly.”

“Never know at your age,” he retorts, then laughs when a decorative pillow hits the back of his head.

You hadn’t thrown it, you’re far too weak for that right now, but you had given it to Seokmin and pointed at Wonwoo so your beautiful, loyal boyfriend had lobbed it over at the technically youngest member of your trio, even if he’s thirty-two.

You tug Seokmin in for a grateful kiss, then let him go. He immediately picks the tray up yet places it back down seconds later when Wonwoo gasps loudly, the floorboard in his hands. “What? What is it?” Seokmin asks, rushing over to peer into the hidden compartment. “Holy shit, is that a spell book?!”

“You notice that and not the box of fucking gold jewellery?” Wonwoo gawps at Seokmin in disbelief, then reaches in to pull the open lidded, almost overflowing box out tentatively.

As soon as Wonwoo’s out of the way and approaching the bed to sit on, and rummage through the jewellery at your side, Seokmin dives back into the hole to grab the book and other items with intrigue.

“These aren’t real pearls…right?” Wonwoo asks once he’s opened the only jewellery box in the container and taken note of the pearl necklace within.

“Of course they are,” you scoff. “Why would I have fake pearls?”

“Because having real pearls is insane! They’re worth so much!”

“Are diamonds still worth something?” You ask, plucking up a bracelet from the box.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Then I guess we’ll be able to afford to get out of your hair soon enough.”

“As in move out?” Wonwoo pouts at you a little. “But…I’ve gotten used to not being alone and there’s plenty of space for the three of us. Well, more than just plenty; you know how big this house is, there are more bedrooms left unused, you can have a magic workroom or whatever.”

“You really want us to stay?” Wonwoo nods, looking a little shy to admit it.

“Okay,” you agree, and reach over to squeeze his knee a little with a teasing grin. “We’ll stay and you can be uncle Wonwoo and babysit for us one day.”

“You know what? I like kids so I’m okay with that,” he shrugs and focuses back on the jewellery so you plop the bracelet back into the box almost carelessly. You’ll have to remember to remove the protective, anti-damage spells on anything you sell beforehand, selling anything with magic attached is never a good idea.

“Is this your magic wand?” Seokmin gasps, suddenly clambering onto the bed and holding his hand towards you. You look at the item in his hand and laugh before nodding a little. “Wow, that’s so cool!”

“You can have it now; I haven’t needed that for a long time.”

“A long time,” Wonwoo comments, and sniggers when you backhand his leg.

“Wow, really? You’re good enough to not need a wand?”

“Mm, some basic spells are easy for anyone to do wandless, but more advanced stuff requires it until you have a certain handle on it all.”

“I bet you would’ve defeated Voldemort easily.”

“I have no idea who that is,” you remind, and both men light up before sharing a grin.

“Potter marathon?” Seokmin asks.

“Hell yeah. I’ll go buy popcorn,” Wonwoo agrees enthusiastically.

“Popcorn?” You ask, eyes widening with interest. “The sweet kind?”

“Ooh, there’s so much you’ve never tried!” Seokmin gasps excitedly bouncing on the bed at your side while Wonwoo gets up and leaves the room. “So many treats and foods and drinks and movies and shows and-”

“Seokie,” you interrupt, putting your hand over his mouth. “Calm down, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives to do everything.”

Seokmin gently pulls your hand down onto his lap and laces your fingers together. “Yeah, we do. A long happy life side by side, right?”

“Forever and always, sweetheart.”

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tusswrites

[inkystaar]

hey. don’t cry. mafia dash simulator.

canary-in-a-timeloop reblogged

🌟 canary-in-a-timeloop Follow

guys!! angel duo is literally so toxic why are you shipping them :(( and cedar is like!! a bajillion years old and gem’s way younger!!! it’s really weird :((

🪽 angel-certified Follow

You literally ship Bowie/Jordan for goodness sake… Please be quiet.

🌟 canary-in-a-timeloop Follow

oh so now i’m banned from joy and whimsy?? i see how it is!!!

#literally so rude #just because i want a little enemies to lovers??? so toxic

36 Notes

localshapeshifter reblogged

🍄 localshapeshifter Follow

actually so pissed off that cinth broke the bond with icarus… like yeah it was an accident but he’s still to blame…

💀 cinth-numberonefan Follow

EXCUSE ME??? CINTH IS LITERALLY THE BEST!!!! AND ICARUS FORGAVE HIM!!!

🍄 localshapeshifter Follow

i was going to argue with you but in your bio it says you’re 15…wait a few years, okay sweaty?

103 Notes

toothrotting-angst reblogged

🪼 toothrotting-angst Follow

any 1 else miss the polycule 😞

like…remember that 1 ship art of them cuddling?? so cute…and now they barely interact…

🥩 twink-of-fortune Follow

op have you considered that they have seen the Horrors? tweaks literally went insane and bowie and gem had that whole drama?? /lh

🎭 fanof-fallenstars Follow

shh…op is living in blissful ignorance

🪼 toothrotting-angst Follow

WAIT WHAT!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭

213 Notes

📜 bones-and-braids

did i write another bones duo oneshot? yes.

is it the 6th one this week? …yes

do i miss bones duo? YES!!!!!

#someone save me it’s only tuesday #bones duo #they moved into my brain and won’t leave

12 Notes

twink-of-fortune reblogged

🥩 twink-of-fortune Follow

AUGH…. BAM….. THEY MAKE ME MENTALLY ILL…………..

💀 cinth-numberonefan Follow

BOWIE LITERALLY KILLED SAM??? KINDA FUCKED UP FOR YOU TO SHIP THAT!!!

🥩 twink-of-fortune Follow

but it was so heartbreaking!!! and the fanfictions that came from it were so amazing :((( (if anyone has bam fic recs PLEASE please please tell me /gen /nf)

42 Notes

arson-at-eight reblogged

🪻 arson-at-eight Follow

everytime m!gem swears a little bit of my soul leaves me

🦌 t4t-braid-duo Follow

so do you just not want her to swear LMAO?? it’s empowering

🪻 arson-at-eight Follow

help??? that wasn’t my point???

🦌 t4t-braid-duo Follow

then what was your point? omfg no need to be an ass abt it

🪻 arson-at-eight Follow

omg nevermind this literally isn’t worth my time

28 Notes

[boy-eater11]

Unfulfilled

Legolas x reader one shot

-in which you come to understand you are not so similar to the elf prince. Infact, you are just what each other needs.

(CW: Slight angst, fluff, comfort, mild enemies to lovers, Brief mention of an injury, multiple mentions of death/mortality)

Gender neutral pronouns, no use of Y/N

Unedited

As an elf, Legolas had seen many things. Years seemed to go by as breaths in the wind. The company of elves was painfully monotonous at times, which is why he often jumped at the opportunity to venture for new sights.

Deep beneath his aloof princely persona, a bright cheerful elfling with a hunger for knowledge and excitement lived, only to be seen in the truest of moments.

That is what brought him to you.

Legolas had leaped for the opportunity to join the fellowship. A quest of a lifetime, even for a being who's lifetime was unhindered by grip of meager mortality.

However, the fellowship brought him a rare opportunity. It was a chance to let the adventurer in his soul breathe. It was a chance to make memories that meant something.

You on the other hand, seemed to lack the thick walls Legolas had built for himself. You were brash, worldly, vibrant, and bold. Every fiber of your being seemed bursting with humanity and life.

Which is why, despite the disapproval of others, you were a perfect fit for the fellowship.

You had managed to claw your way into not only the council, but the very group itself. The sheer force of your will brought you there.

At first, you vehemently disliked Legolas. He was everything you were not; noble, elegant, and unbothered by nearly everything. Yet even your contrasting demeanor was not the root of your distaste. What bothered you most, is that he seemed to be judging your every move.

The elf simply could not take his eyes off of you. You could be doing something as simple as cooking, and he would stare at you as if you were doing every step wrong. It made your skin crawl.

In all honesty, you wished desperately to earn his approval. Even subconsciously, you would favor him. Giving him extra portions of dinner when you could, showing off when he was near in battle, dressing better to seem less brutish. Yet the more you seemed to try, the more you found his eyes lingering.

In truth, Legolas did see you as the opposite of everything he was. Which is why he admired every minute movement you made. Every object you owned was stained with the colourful whimsy of life, every breath you let out sounded like joy itself was running through your lungs, every step you took marked the ground with the beauty of your being. In his eyes, you we're more magnificent than any elven beauty he had encountered.

He was so unsure of how to act in your presence. He feared you would see him as a haughty prince, so he avoided showing off around you, yet he still craved your praise. In the end, he had landed on a balance of effortless performance, and casual elegance. Despite his efforts however, you never seemed to notice him.

That was until one particular night, when you had been put on watch together, much to your chagrin.

You had sat in silence most of the night, humming the occasional tune to yourself to stay awake. The elf next to you, sat in complete quiet, staring off into the vast distance from your perch in the canopy.

"Do you like the stars?" Legolas spoke, breaking the tense silence. You looked up, surveying the infinite tapestry of lights above.

"they are beautiful." You muttered in response. Not wanting to engage in idle conversation all night.

"The stars are fascinating to me. My kin are known for their affinity to them, but my love for them goes far beyond even theirs. I could tell you the name of nearly every light in this sky." He monologued.

"I suppose you've had a long time to learn them." You replied, looking over to him for the first time all night.

"I dare to say I have too much time to learn them. Elves live long lives, yet not many speak of the boredom of endurance. I often have no choice but to stare at the stars." His voice rang with nostalgia.

"I wish I could say I understood, but I fear I suffer from the opposite. Being human means I know that one day I will die, and that I could spend every day of my life living to the fullest, and still have so much I missed. I often find myself wishing I was immortal, at least then I would know there is nothing more to learn." You sighed, your eyes shifting to your fidgeting hands.

"that's the thing about you humans. You have the opportunity to fill your every day with something new or exciting. Your presence on this earth is short lived, but it is vibrant. I can only wish for a life so fulfilling." Legolas spoke, shifting to look at you.

You look up, meeting that familiar gaze. "You have all the time in the world, yet you believe less would leave you more fulfilled? You're a prince, a warrior, and a hero of many, with every opportunity you could ask for. I struggle to see how you could be unfulfilled."

"I am grateful for my life, yes, but It is one that is spread thin between ages of loneliness and an inability to share it with others. Your life is so full of connections and experiences and passion, if anything, I struggle to see how you see that as unfulfilling." Legolas spoke, a faint smile gracing his features.

Legolas turned back towards the sky, a shy grin tracing his lips. "Perhaps."

You huffed, looking away from him, unable to maintain his tense eye contact. "The root of our issues is so different, yet we are both unfulfilled by life. Perhaps we are just cursed to want what life will never grant us.

Things were different with Legolas after that. You often stuck to each other's sides. Legolas began sharing his observations about the world around him with you, and you would listen. Learning more about not only the world around you, but how he saw it. And you listened, you told him every thought that came to your mind.

Legolas would still watch you as he used to, but now, you would invite him to join you. Talking through every moment of your day as if you were teaching him to be human.

The rest of the fellowship noticed of course. No one really said anything, but after a point, everyone just assumed you were a duo now. They all thought it was fascinating how two people so different could manage to ramble on for. All but Aragorn, who knew exactly what Legolas watched you for, and had long picked up on your wish to be accepted by him.

As the journey continued, and even after the fellowship disbanded, you and Legolas only drew closer.

You had begun to do everything together. You fought together, trained together, you had spent many long nights on watch together. It amazed you how someone so seemingly withdrawn, could have hours of conversation and life buried underneath.

You of course, had grown fond of Legolas. It hurt, you knew from the beginning that your feelings would never be returned. It was hard not to feel the insecurity of your differences clawing at your mind again.

Yet Legolas only managed to fall more and more in love with you. You had become his best friend in such a short time it was almost embarrassing, and it was even harder to understand how he felt such a deep love for you in even less time. Legolas knew he could never properly court you. Not because he was scared of his father's disapproval, because he knew that you would never accept the weight that came with the title of his lover. So he elected to love you quietly for as long as he could.

That was until the siege on the black gate, in which Legolas was confronted with the scope of your mortality.

You had been shot in the shoulder. Legolas watched it happen, and despite his best efforts could do nothing to stop it. He raced to get you help, knowing you were losing large amounts of blood, and we're quickly slipping out of consciousness.

When you came to, the war had been won. Legolas was still with you however. Watching your every breath to ensure they did not wane.

"Meleth nín! You are awake!" Legolas gripped you tightly when you finally awoke. Even he was shocked by his sudden advances, and is use of words.

"Good morning to you too," You laughed softly, a warm smile gracing your features "And I thought it was Mellon...have I been saying it wrong or is that a new word?" You questioned. You had been trying to learn any ounce of elvish you could in your time with Legolas, but you gravely underestimated how much you did not know.

"you are correct, do not worry. I will teach you some other time. For now I am just glad you are still present." Legolas replied, releasing you from his grip.

You reaches up to comb your fingers through a piece of his hair that was slightly disheveled. "I did not realize you would miss me that much. Maybe I ought to stay asleep longer next time and I'll wake up to a gift." You teased, an airy giggle escaping you.

Legolas shook his head and chuckled. "Of course I missed you. In truth, have come to value your presence more than any other. I find myself unsure of how to act without you beside me."

"I was not aware of how starved of friendship you were. And to think you've gotten so attached to a silly mortal." You sighed playfully, a light blush bubbling up to your cheeks.

"You mean more to me than even I wish to accept. In all honesty, if I could stay by you every hour of every day I would. You are the most vibrant being I have ever met. You make me someone I've always wanted to be. It... It is not friendship I feel for you." Legolas' eyes looked pained. His hand carefully drifted over yours

"You're being truthful? Are you aware that I will die someday too? That even though I do love you, I will never be able to be with you forever. I'm not sure if I could bring you such pain." Your voice softened, you hand tracing gently over Legolas'

"I have lived many years waiting to feel the way I do every moment of my life when I am with you. You make me feel fulfilled. I may outlive you, but I will never outlive my love for you." He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

"I have always feared what I will lose from my mortality. I only hope you can love me long past that. So that even if I do not live to die beside you, some part of me will remain in your mind, to witness everything the world have to offer you." You're eyes lightly stung with unshed tears.

"I will care for you every moment of your life, Meleth nín" he kissed your forehead gently.

"And I will be there to keep you from the troubles of loneliness," You spoke, softly "iiiif you can tell me what that means" you let out a light giggle

"my love. It means my love."

[understandableparadox]

Bottom of the barrel Isekai review

Today we are looking at the following, "The white cat's revenge as plotted from the dragon kings lap."

christ thats a long as title.

anyways, do you have a friend? no? yes? maybe? how nice, how do you treat them? how do you speak with them? how do you interact with them? while you are filling out this survey, could you be as kind as to fill out those silly little digits on that odd plastic card in your mothers purse for moi~?

no? well fuck you to.

the flowers, the painfully average looking protag, the specific notation about the eye color? we are about to dive into the live of a special young lady and her mystical adventures through whimsy and wonder.

anyways the story is that ruri, are main charecter lives a rather average life with her super importent dad and her super model mom, as the image stats, how could her life ever be distrupted in any form or fashion?

if you guess that a random girl made friends with her and followed her for most of her life until they both got sucked into a fantasy world and the kingdom decided the friend would be the priestess, then you would be correct~!

"But dox!" you say crawling out of my airvent "thats huge gap in time, what happened in between?"

well asashi and ruri had a rather odd relationship. you see, everyone fucking loves asashi, they are all in on ensureing that this random girls life is as easy as possible but at the expense of asashi. they will all work togather to do make sure asashi is happy while also bullying ruri.

do you feel that? thats the worm in my brain slowly getting into yours as more and more questions about this specific dynamic arise. some of them will be answered, but they will only be answered in a way that makes sure the worm Burrows Deeper.

first question: its clear ruri fucking hates asashi, why do i say shes her friend?

second question: Why are they friends? why hasent ruri made her leave her alone if she doesnt like her?

well to answer those questions...

as asashi is appointed the new priestiess ruri attempt to discover things about this kingdom, she learns from a priest that there is no way back home that they know of, nor are their any stories of a person summoned being Un summoned.

anyways we cant get any plot done here! we need to roundaboutly kick shit off while also makeing this asashis fault somehow!

so she ends up getting kicked from the castle, forced to wander the woods for the rest of her natural life, her mulchcore attitude persaudeing her to lay down and become one with it all...

ok no thats not what happens, she walks around a little bit, learns she is the greatest mage alive

, wanders presumably without food and water for five days, yes im screaming at the overpowered mc cliche once again just ignore it, where in she meets a old lady in the woods

who of course unlocks her

Special eyes of destiny

which allows her to see the collection of fucking creepy fairies that constently surround and are touching her at any given moment of the day.

I am lead to belive due to the daisies drawn in the back ground that this is supposed to be a moment of whimsy and joy, this image fills me with a special dread as it fullfills almost every single one of my autistic fears imagineable. night mare night mare nightmare.

anyways magic is discussed for a vary long time but oh fuck, we havent complained about asashi in five seconds, time to make a horrifying point about her!

this conclusion seems to be that no one can truly love asashi as all the love she will ever feel is artifically grown because of her magic. this also means that if you have a strong heart and a good soul you cannot love asashi because you would naturally and rightfully find her as annoying as ruri would. this is because ruri is the only one that can see her objectivly.

if you hare undergoing a string of panic that comes from the fundamental question that comes from the doubt of love from the sources in your life, dont worry, Ruri says she is annoying and bad and the story belives her to be objectivly correct so everyone belives that if they are good. you are a good person right?

growing dread aside, more plot, the fairys bend to the whim of ruri, all faries, meaning that unless you are a motherfucking wizard, the one source of universal and public magic has been cut off. all villagers that relied on water and fire magic have been cut off. farmers that need earth magic are cut off.

of course this is not her fault because again she is an objectivly good person with a good heart so she tut tuts the fairies for depriving villagers of clean drinking water and easy acess to heat and light for a week and the story moves on.

she learns more magic, she summons the fairy of time and they platoniclly flirt because ruri is a completely heterosexual girl.

the fairy of time is a simp and donates to her only dimensional space. one item of which is a bracelet that turns her into a cat, fulfilling one item on the title.

she goes to the market, her special chosen one powers make her super duper populer and people naturally want her advice and to give her money

wait a second, what time is it?

OH FUCK, WE HAVENT COMPLAINED ABOUR ASASHI IN A BIT!

SHE HAS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE OF ASASHI GIVING UP HER DREAM LIFE IN A FANTASY WORLD TO BE WITH HER, THIS IS CONSIDERED A BAD THING, IN ANY OTHER MANGA THIS WOULD BE CONSIDERED A ROMANCE TO END ALL ROMANCES

she decides to leave and go to the city of dragons because fuck it, thats a thing to do, she has to tell them she is the special chosen one with the blue eyes and blonde hair.

we cut for a second our lead.

as you can see the prince through his actions is a completely heterosexual man, one that loves Boobs And Vagina. as one can clearly Tell.

anyways the prince is creepy, he walks through town in disgues, happens upon ruri and without a second thought proceeds to do this:

gross.

anyways, the prince tells his homophobic advisors that he met a girl and they immeditly start a witch hunt for her while ruri enters the room as a cat to establish that again, she is the special chosen one of destiny.

anyways she meets the prince and nothing happens. the fairies threaten to kill everyone with the knowladge that ruri has apocalyptic plot armor.

now, to explain what a special chosen one is:

"hey dox, pre-emptivly asking a question, why would their ever be a chosen one? it seems their sole existance is to get a small scratch and make everyone die about it."

GREAT QUESTION, I DONT FUCKING KNOW, THEY APPERENTLY CAUSE PROSPARITY BUT I HAVE YET TO SEE IT, NOT EVEN A GOD DAMN DECENT 401K

anyways the prince gets Really attached to the Cat

Really Close.

this is explained through the fact that they have simalier wavelengths or similier magic types, meaning that they feel lonely without each other nearby.

the manga is astouindingly quick to stifle any comparison to asashi because remeber, asashi is Objectivly Bad and Unloveable.

Remember, Wanting to be friends with someone and not immeditly knowing if they like you or not makes you an objectivly Bad and Annoying person.

cut forward a bit, more werid cat flirting and she gets a job outside the palace... anyways she hears knews that the kingdom she was exiled from is wageing a war against the nation of dragons. this is handwaved as being something they just do when they find some cool magic shit.

but notably, the reason for the war has changed, as rumors have emerged that the priestess of the kingdom is supporting the war to save ruri who they belive to be kidnapped.

she gets sad about this and goes to the grandma to whine about it.

so we can see here a few things.

we are supposed to belive that its completely unreasonable for asashi to make the assumption that her best friend has been kidnapped.

that it is her fault for allowing a war to happen when we know that regardless of her support they would wage it regardless

ruri only considers asashi a friend when it is deemed attractive to her moral charecter.

yes this is the first time ruri has every said that asashi is anything resembling a friend to her.

she slips into the castle after some poverty porn about how evil and bad this kingdom is, we get a brief scene showing the king is planning on makeing sure both asashi and the prince die because he finds him annoying (I guess he has a strong and objectivly good soul)

"Man, isnt asashi awful, worrying about her friend like that? wanting people to help her find her? isnt she just the fucking Worse ever?"

im going insane, the worm has won, they have consumed any rational part of my brain and replaced it with the vast rot of whatever fucking bizarro verse this manga demands me to be within.

the two friends finally reunite after being seperated for so long.

we get a sob story about a time she broke her watch because again, asashis charm powers make people jealous of how close she is to asashi, so they bullied her and since asashi has literally never seen anyone ever act anything like that because again, everyone s magically forced to love her unconditionally, she doesnt belive her.

and of course she dosent belive her either but instead of just blindly saying no to ruri, she says she'll talk to them about it, when its clear ruri fucking hates that idea, and gets ready to leave with a little cryptic warning, she asks to flee with her

which again is displayed as a creepy and werid thing because she accidently uses her charm magic that we have established she has no control over. again, in any other manga the idea that while you may not belive what you hear, you are willing to give up any comfort to be with your friend, would be considered the most profound act of love. please feel free to contrast this to captian hair sniffer and Cat spooner.

I cannot add any more images so lets speed run this. asashi is shaken up so she goes to the king to ask him whats going on, he says "Mind control" which lets be perfectly clear, is an established and perfectly reasonable thing to belive can happen in a magical fucking world, asashi is shown to be dumb for belive this.

war happens and nothing happens, dragons win by a land slide and asashi gets captured.

she dosent belive the dragon princes words and all of her allies that got captured with her are placed in an anti magic zone and now hate her completely because again, without magic, asashi is completely and utterly unloveable.

ruri makes friends with another god and they learn that asashi convinced a guard to let her go because i guess that charm magic works whenever. but shes stuck in a dungeon and she may run into the soldiers who i guess the charm magic wont work on which leaves us with this haunting scene:

we are told that asashi legitamitly does not understand what the fuck is going on, she does not understand why they hate her, she just thought she was going to save her fucking friend.

Behold Your Antagonist.

it ends with that.

here are the questions.

"Is the underlying story, barring any other concept, good?" 

Kinda. its vary bland and vary generic. its a romance that does not know how to present itself a romance. it is a romance that spends more time complaining about someone then being in love.

"on a sliding scale of min to max, how much is the author using this to explore fetish" 

none, the few saveing graces.

"How many story crutches does the author use to explore the story" 

an absurd amount, from the plot contrivances to the power cliches, to the physical attributes denoting specialness to ensure we and the charecters know to treat her in a special way.

 "Is the author attempting to use the story as a way to explain why he is not weird."

yeah, if you have any fucking trouble with social interactions or cant read people, then you are an objectively bad person, and if you are somehow populer, no one actully loves you, and they are being forced to love you.

[bloomingdarkgarden]

I’m not an Elriel (Gwynriel here), but I just wanted to say that I really really love your writing and I respect how much work you put into it. As a writer myself, I know that it’s not easy and how exhausting it can be. Self-doubt also messes with you. Your storytelling is so beautiful and comforting. I really appreciate all the work you do, and seeing you get a lot of love and support makes me happy. Seeing any writer and creator get support and love makes me happy. You deserve all the success. I hope you know how much comfort and joy you bring people. Your blog feels very welcoming and safe for all characters and all ships. You’re also an inspiration. I can feel how kind your energy is. It’s very beautiful. Thank you for everything that you do.

I am a Gwynriel, but I do genuinely love Elain (I can relate to her) and I’m excited to see her story, but I don’t think SJM will be able to do it justice. You have surpassed all expectations. You’re truly amazing. Whenever you publish a book of your own I will be buying it. I hope one day I’m as good of a writer as you.

I wanted to share some positivity since this fandom can be toxic and unkind. It’s easy to be nice and respectful to others. We’re all here because we love reading and enjoy fantasy and are attached to these characters. Sending you good energy and all the love. Take care of yourself and drink some tea and eat lots of your favorite snack. Sincerely, a baby witch.🕊️💗

Anon, my sweet little witch 🪄 you are an exceptionally beautiful soul.

Thank you for such positivity. I cringe when the shipwar slips into my dash, it's such recycled fodder. People thrive on negative energy in this fandom, they look to feed on it, it's bizarre and like... worrisome. Anyway I'll be Romeo to your Juliet, let's get married and make them all clutch their pearls.

I am an ardent Elriel in me bones, but you are correct in that this is a safe space for all of our messed up magical faeries and ships! I work outdoors in life threatening situations frequently; I do not have the capacity to look at discourse in my off time lol. I follow very few ACOTAR blogs because they almost all are just... people writing novel length crusades on canon evidence. At this point my eyes bleed. Anyway I'd like to think this hovel is a place where whimsy can flourish or come to draw its last breaths lol. I am so happy to have you here and hope your own writing blooms within!!

[amodernpersephone]

wataru 👁

ask game

favorite thing about them

— i love his design and personality in general!!! i kinda realized im drawn to clown-esque/circus/eccentric characters bc of him since it echoes thru all my rhythm gaming favs (hhw, wxs, etc) of all things, i think i rly like his hair. which is alive btw. thats actually canon bc it moves several times . yeah. they always give him the most prettyboy hairstyles thank you happyele

least favorite thing about them

— hng. ok i love him and his whimsy and clownery as much as the next person but Boy. sometimes his dramatic effects cause...well, drama. wataei doesnt advance emotionally (despite the fact that theyve been married since ! era) because one eichi cant read the room for shit and two wataru's incapable of expressing his romance in ways that arent less . wataru-like. i mean i love him and i love his grandiose wholly but it would help if he could he straightforward just a bit and if the straight part is too much, being forward is enough LMFAO SKDHJSVSJDG

favorite line

— “Please wake up, Eichi. With your own feet, let us walk home together. Did you not say that you would walk alongside me? Only you? Come, open your eyes. Look, look, you can view the Milky Way in its entirety, see? A reality far more beautiful than any dream... Even now, it is spreading out into this world. The one who taught me that was none other than you, yes?”

and alternatively

“You’re missing the point, Butler-san! That filth is precisely Eichi’s — no, I daresay all of humanity’s — charm point!”

brOTP

— i am an avid wataru & tori friendship enjoyer!! i just love how thru tori wataru slowly grew out of his fixation on eichi and his madness being the only thing linking him to fine (thus also assuring eichi that wataru held affection for them as a unit, and not merely because hes fuck all insane and wataru finds that hot somehow) and began to love fine as a unit he was part of, something real and true and whole!!! also i think he should take tori on more littol dates and they should have fun and do each other's makeup because i am right and yuzuru and eichi would gush about this until they bleed

OTP

— must we really ask me this. the guy wearing a shirt that says "i love wataei"the girl that wrote the wataei shipping wiki the thing that broke apart during ep:link and was never fully the same again??? anyway. yeah. i cant even make a fucking joke here bc wataei has woven itself so fucking deeply into my belief system i will see a mask and a crown and start screeching "MY BLORBOS MY BLORBOS" like the local loon in the wild west. god they make me want to cry

nOTP

— uh. idk if its just bc of the aforementioned wataei illness but. i cld never rlly enjoy other wataru ships. but i think i simply dont vibe w wataru x any eccentric rlly . not my cup of tea ig

random headcanon

— OH. OHOHOHOHOHO. i am firmly wataru trans nb he/him/any if thats anything. ANYWAY he wonders what hairstyles wld look good on eichi if he grew out his hair more. he tried to recreate the performance eichi watched on tv That Day because he wants him to experience it firsthand, right in front of him, no longer an enigma, no longer surreal, but tangible and wholly his. he decorated eichi's wheelchair with the rest of fine!! the nurses literally have him on the constant blacklist because SIR you cannot keep sneaking tenshouin-san down the window because you think he should see the beautiful moon out tonight. its canon but i think he can carry eichi around with relative ease. wataei do each other's hair! theres a special whimsy in performing but theres also an irreplaceable sense of joy in standing at the same stage as eichi and feeling both his competitiveness and admiration for wataru reverberate over his voice they are echoes of one another eternally flowing into their souls

unpopular opinion

— cant rly think of any bc i practically tune out everything else LMFAO but. ig uh. hello to the people who wrote me a 17-page google doc on why my ship was problematic to which i replied a 24-page legal document telling them to shut the fuck up. wataru is a firm believer of "if i can't fix this man, we can get worse together" come on get with it!!!!

song i associate with them

— aside from his own songs??? uh. i think of him and eimichin singing lightning bug a lot. there's also elegy dedicated with love from the vivy anime which is very wataeicore from a wataru perspective. OOH. anima by reona tops it tho i just. ouahh.

favorite picture of them

— must you even ask. i actually have more normal pictures but. he is my thing

[lemonboyfest]

reminders

reminders for 2024:

You’re not dead yet. Get the fuck up. Drag your corpse kicking and screaming into tomorrow. One day you will stop surviving and start living

more studying, more walks, more reading, more skill-based hobbies, more experimenting w pretty fits and hairstyles, more gym, more exploring new things in general, more whole foods/healthy recipes, more financial literacy, more time management, more time off the phone, more being out the loop. nothing else matters

hrmm. well hold on now ive been filled with a sudden joy and whimsy for the world

Glowing kind of love

fuck beauty standards. someone looking at you with love in their eyes is the most beautiful thing in the world.

as a girl who is literally just a girl i am always yearning. always longing always missing always wearing my heart on my sleeve. always feeling like my heart is on the verge of exploding. the sight of the sun makes me cry. anyway

i hope that when i die there will be an apartment with everyone i’ve ever loved in it and we are together always

read a lot and read everything

film and art and music are what builds ur soul

be outside

love and romance will not come to you any quicker if you are focused on it constantly

possessions don't improve things

movement does improve things

university is <4 years of the rest of your life - make the most of it

find the pleasure in hard work

lose the pleasure in scrolling

creation is essential

joy, love & intelligence are the tenets of life

stagnation isn't inevitable. no person is in a fixed state. you can always change

i love listening to someone’s favorite song its like im mentally holding their hand

you just had an epiphany about your sexuality? just own it. you like this unpopular thing your friends don’t like? just own it. you’re trans? just own it. you’re doing something unconventional? just own it. you’re completely free to share your reasons, but you don’t have to justify why you made the decisions you made. if you disclose something and a friend makes a face, okay well that’s too bad bc that’s who you are. they’re free to leave if what makes you a person doesn’t sit right w them. you don’t need to explain the why and the how and the when as if you’re trying to outrun their disapproval. be confident enough in yourself that you don’t feel the need to owe anyone an explanation. you’re you and that’s that.

what im learning is that you cannot avoid your way into a life you enjoy

i have the opposite of that “everyone is an npc” mentality people have embraced where i’m instead like. the person next to me in line has someone they can’t wait to go home to, the person picking up their mail has felt devastation before, everyone in this grocery store is doing their sunday shopping, maybe the person that just honked at me is having the worst day of their life, my neighbor has doctors appointments and favorite foods and a song they can’t stand to hear anymore… you are all fully realized complex people and that is overwhelming me on a spiritual level…

"omg you'll post 'i need him' on the most average men" "she's mid" most of us are average and it's good that we can find beauty and desire in average people .... on god FELT. i really need to start practicing this though. i get so complacent in my complacence i listen to my friends and i try so hard to fit in i insult people for no reason there is so much more to them than their aesthetics and if i do not find them attractive then what is to say someone else doesn't why do i feel the need to invalidate why am i rude ? people are all beautiful i need to remind myself . changing

[theaveragepsychoticbitch]

Hi<3 Call me whatever you like. This is my writing blog<3

He/she/they pronouns! This blog contains mostly 18+/NSFW- you have been warned

My Most Recent Work

~°♡° Navigation °♡°~

#the psychotic's writing- All my written works (anon answered, event related, or just me writing) will be in this tag

#the psychotics inspo- if you write good I'm gonna synthesize your works with my soul

#Joy / Whimsy / Love- Things I reblog for fun

Informational Reblogs- @thesecretpsychoticbitch

Important reblogs- @theaveragepsychoticcares

Art reblogs- @nottheaveragepsychoticbitch

#just talking- just me talking

°°° Fandoms On This Blog°°°

Featured: Spiderverse 🕸, Record of Ragnarok 🌊, Obey Me 👾, Homicipher ✍🏾

Writing for: RoR, Obey Me, Homicipher

《<Rules>》

Not Taking Requests. Suggestions, or thirsts, sure

I don't really have any kinks I definitely won't write for other than scat, yandere, and feet. However, I can and will refuse to write something if I don't want to for any reason. I write for all readers, & damn near specialize in trans reader. I dont do character x character.

My inbox is always open! Just keep it respectful:)

This is a proship/fic safe blog. DNI queer-exclusionists, TERFS, antis. Minors, many of y'all won't listen if I say don't interact. So if you do, remember to tread carefully, and that continuing on was your decision.

I do not permit reposting my works on any other site.

[chaozsilhouette]

Stubborn Romance

A little piece of domestic joy for the Demon Bull family.

Red Son is trying to sort through his own feelings and chooses to seek help from a only constant married couple in his life.

Enjoy the latest addition to my Vanishing Shadow Au.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

It was a peaceful night. The latest of many ever since the Demon Bull King had been released from the strange energy.

Red Son had been analyzing the frequency, trying to pinpoint exactly what that power was. So far the results confused him. The more he searched the more the readings looked like a living entity.

Princess Iron Fan was busy trying to convince her stubborn husband he needed to rest. The battle with Wukong’s successor had been far more damaging than they let on. With the power straining his body, mind, and soul, he was in no condition to fight. Their personal healer stated that he was to limit himself to minimal physical activities for at least ten days.

Princess Iron Fan had decreed that all their projects for conquering and expanding their territory be put on hold until they returned to their full strength.

Unfortunately, this left Red Son with far too much time of his hands. He mind kept circling back to Macaque’s words. He was of age to begin courting a mate or at least start looking for a potential partner. He couldn’t simply say he had a crush on the Monkie Kid. The roof wouldn’t survive.

Maybe there was a way to develop a truce, after all his father once considered Wukong a brother. Perhaps he could arrange something similar. But to do that he would need to get closer to the boy without alerting his family to his plans.

And that is how he found himself standing before his parents in his father’s personal study.

“Father, if I may ask, how did you court mother?”

Instead of looking annoyed, DBK surprised his son by gaining a fond expression. “Hm, hm. I was wondering when you were going to ask. Finally, found a potential mate?” He asked, with a smug look.

His mother wore a strange expression of joy and irritation.

“Not exactly. But you’ve never told me how you two met or how you courted her.” Red Son corrected. It wouldn't do to lead them on a mystery they could never be allowed to solve.

Princess Iron Fan settled herself on her throne-like chair. “Well, our courtship was a tad unusual for the time period. Now there is so much going on, no one cares who asks who or which gender kidnaps which.” Then again it never really mattered back then either. Strength was the rule of the land, if you couldn’t defend your own what good were you as a ruler. But at the time, it was expected for the man to kidnap the woman.

The family’s matriarch summon a fresh pot of tea, as a servant poured she began reminiscing on her origins. “It all started when your father chose to test his strength against my father’s army. I was but a humble human, a daughter to small-time royalty, not meant for much.”

Seeing her cup had been poured and a tray of appropriate snacks had been arranged, she dismissed every servant in the room. Wisely, they ran as though the gatekeepers of the underworld were after their souls.

“When your father trampled soldier after soldier most turned away in hatred or disgust, but me…” Princess Iron Fan shuddered as the blood splatter filled her mind followed by the agonized cries of the weak. “I couldn’t get enough. There was such passion, such strength. Far beyond anything that pitiful court had ever provided me.”

Red Son could only stare, he’d never seen his mother in such a state.

“Little did I know he had caught sight of me.”

Hearing his cue, the demonic bull happily took the reigns. “She was unlike any being I’d ever witnessed. Gods and demons alike paled to her beauty. Just from the mere glance I was permitted, I saw someone who possessed the cunning and strength to become so much more.” In his youth, he encountered many beings who claimed the title of beautiful, but until he laid eyes on that goddess he never knew the meaning of the word.

“He sent me the most ridiculous letters. The poetry was so bad.” She laughed at the mere memory of them.

“I told you it wasn’t my strong suit.” He joked, not at all ashamed of his past ineptitude. Look where it got him.

“Doesn’t change the fact each one was horrible, but I think that made me appreciate them even more.” She took his hand, gently laying her cheek against his palm. “The language was raw and powerful, nothing like the clean and precise work from my other suitors. All others simply wanted my hand for heirs or increase their status, but he was different. I wrote him back and with each letter, we grew ever closer. Every day I received a letter without fail. It showed his dedication, but most of all it proved he wanted to know me. It was a whole new world.”

“But it wasn’t enough. I needed to meet her in person, to hear her voice, to see the power dance in her eyes. But that worthless king refused to submit, even though most of his army lay dead at my feet. One would have thought he would be bowing to his daughter, knowing she was the only reason I had bothered being so gentle.” He would never have been able to forgive himself had he inadvertently harmed his love by unleashing his full power. It would have demolished the barrier between them, but there was a strong chance it would have destroyed the palace itself.

Princess Iron Fan took a delicate sip, lips curved in a wicked smirk. “I organized a small distraction that allowed your father the opportunity to bypass the wards and seals protecting the palace. Once he was inside, I altered them to ensure the inhabitants had become my prisoners, including your father.”

He chuckled remembering how he walked in only to be restrained, forced to kneel before the one who had effortlessly captured his heart. A quick look around proved he was far from her only captive. “She had heard of a few of the more common demon traditions and decided to make them her own. It was breathtaking.” How could he be mad at one who put so much effort into proving herself the perfect mate?

“The palace became our first fortress. In a matter of days, we were wed and we got to know each other properly.” Princess Iron Fan leaned in close, wind calmly circling her form.

“She granted me the highest honor by casting aside her humanity to become a demon. She agreed to walk by my side for all eternity, no matter what trials lay before us.” The massive demon locked eyes with his princess and queen of his heart. “ Truly the greatest victory I had ever known.”

With that, the two fell silent, lost in their memories and feelings towards each other.

Seeing that the conversation was over, Red Son gave an awkward cough as he slowly back-peddled towards the door. “Thank you...I think I have an engine running...somewhere, that’s not here.” Closing the door behind him, he quickly conjured a vortex of flame.

In the depths of his personal workshop, Red Son emerged just done.

Staring at his personal projects, half-finished blueprints, and fits of whimsy he could only collapse on the first chair he could find. ‘So I inherited my mother’s love for powerful dorks.’

“Terrific.”

[themsource]

A Moment Of Time

Pairing: Sans x Frisk Rating: T Word Count: 2,673

Hey @catsitta I was your secret santa for @secretsantafrans! I love your Fated AU so please excuse any cannon inconsistences if I made any @_@  I had fun mixing holiday themes for this; Kronia and Haloa specifically! 

Hope you enjoy ^^

Lord Death’s realm; usually so quiet and haunting, was unusually loud with the cries of celebration and joy. Golden light bathed the immense hall, the fires and torches giving such a grand view of the heavily decorated scaffoldings and food laden tables casting a supernatural warmth supplied by none other than Lord Fyre, for the evening's festivities.

Rarely was there cause for such lavish displays of black marbled fountains overflowing with fine wine, even rarer a reason for heavenly grown ambrosia to grace such a place as the Underworld with it’s desolate landscape and often gloomy atmosphere, but this was a day rare in itself.

Today marked the winter solstice; the time of year that many a mortal and god alike abandoned their divisions and classes that usually separated them from others of lower status as a show of civility and gratitude for one another.

And Death the youngest favored the holiday, in fact he was its greatest fan and celebrated it every year. Which was a surprise to the Goddess Spring given her dear husband’s solitary nature and not so subtle irritation at large gatherings. Let it be said that Sans denied Papyrus very little, and let him want for nothing.

An admirable trait in her spouse.

“My lady are you not enjoying the wine?” Frisk blinked free of her thoughts and spared a glance at her goblet, sitting wholly untouched and turning bitter the longer she ignored it and allowed it to spoil. 

A longstanding tradition on this day was that women alone were allowed to drink of the spirits and indulge in the fresh aged fruits of the last harvest, a tradition she always enjoyed, but now served as nothing but a reminder of lost youth and unwanted vows.

Frisk was gradually coming to accept the chains that tied her to her husband, and deeply appreciated the way in which he treated her as not only an adult, but as a partner, an equal. However it did little to ease the sadness she felt at times such as these, reminding her of the choices she’d unwittingly made that hadn’t truly been choices at all.

This year she wouldn’t be dancing among the snow of the surface, nor would she sit gossiping with her mother and her wood nymphs about plans for future growth and vegetation. Where once she used to greet the time of year with enthusiasm and eagerness, now sat nothing but a rock hard pit in her stomach that even Ambrosia couldn’t fill.

She felt out of place, and just a little bit lonely.

“Forgive me, but my stomach is not quite right tonight.” She forced a smile, small and fragile, but still genuine as she looked to her handmaiden. “Tonight I am not your lady, we are as equals, did you forget?” 

Daisy smiled as she took the opportunity and reached down to take the neglected drink, boldly taking a sip from it before offering Frisk a warm smile. “No matter the time or day you will always be my lady. As long as you’ll have me.”

Frisk chuckled before looking out to the crowd, her golden eyes skimming the dancers supplied by Mother Night as she caught the sight of Lord Fyre in hushed whispers with a fair skinned and golden haired Underworld denizen. 

Vaguely she tried to recall all the fallen heroes she’d been told would be allowed to attend but no name came to mind, maybe they were a member of the Asphodel Meadows?

“I take it Iris and Hyacinth are enjoying themselves?” She asked absently just as her eyes spotted her husband standing beside the hearth speaking with his brother. 

As if he could feel her gaze like a touch he subtly shifted his fathomless sockets to meet her.

Quickly Frisk averted her eyes with a grimace, and not so quiet skip of her heart. How he could draw such a reaction from her when she could just barely tolerate his presence she’d never know, and even as she watched Daisy blush, her flames tinting a slight shade darker, she swore she could still feel him watching her. 

Sans’s gaze always unsettled her, just as much as it drew her in like a vortex.

“Iris is currently in the kitchens, and Hyacinth, is showing Lord Cadmus around.” The way Daisy said his name was enough to make Frisk stare at her in shock. Cadmus, the hero of letters, how fitting given Hyacinth’s nature. Though it was still the last thing she’d expected of the elemental.

“I see…” Even her handmaidens dreamed of love she supposed, something she’d never really given much thought to. Was that one of the reasons behind their constant push for her to get close to Sans? “Well I hope she enjoys herself.”

Daisy offered a timid grin. “Are you sure it’s only your stomach that ails you tonight?”

Frisk dismissed her worry with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry Daisy, go have fun, you fuss over me enough every day as is.” 

Reluctantly the young fiery girl nodded and did as Frisk suggested, but not without offering a backward glance that the goddess waved off with a teasing smile. Slowly she let her hand drop and went back to looking out over the crowd. 

She felt like such a stick in the mud, truly not an attitude befitting of a queen.

Gracefully as she could, and still doing her best to ignore San’s continuously lingering stare, she skirted the side of the hall and slipped away behind a gathered group of souls. She didn’t stop holding her breath or head high until she’d safely made it back to her room, where she finally let her shoulders sag and sighed from sudden exhaustion. 

Papyrus might not be too pleased at her absence, but it was better than sitting in place all night frowning and pouting like a child. Frisk had gone to such lengths to show her mother and the other gods she was worthy of her title, she refused to spoil it all in one evening. 

More than halfway across her room she froze, her eyes going wide in disbelief, as they caught on a small object resting in the center of her bed.

Had someone been in her room?

Frisk’s heart anxiously fluttered in her chest as she debated on returning to the party or taking another step further into her room. Never before now had she noticed just how thick the curtains were that adorned her windows, or just how dark the corners of her chamber were where the miniscule candle light didn’t reach. 

Cautiously she inched forward, the ichor in her veins pounding like a drum as she shakily reached for it with all the control of a quivering branch. 

It fit perfectly in her hand, its texture like that of smooth glass with a coolness that sent a chill up to her shoulder. He guard dropped as she slowly raised it to eye level and turned it this way and that. It looked like a flat and rounded piece of polished obsidian, with golden leaf decorating it’s edges in swirling floral designs. 

A mirror, designed to be easily concealed and for discrete use.

She frowned.

Honestly Frisk wasn’t one to fret over her appearance, she never had been, always preferring wild and tangled hair with robes slightly worn at the fringes from hours spent in the dirt or walking. The only ones that showed any care to her looks were her caretakers and, on a less comfortable note, her husband.

She turned it twice over, as if the name of the person who had left this would magically appear if she simply kept looking, and nearly dropped it as the surface brightened, turning white hot and blinding.

Just as quickly as it happened it dimmed, and in its place was an image, crystal clear  and moving. 

Frisk gasped as she recognized one of the flower fields in which she used to play, now blanketed in freshly fallen snow, the picture of her mother standing silent and stoic as she looked out over the winter landscape. 

It was a looking glass! A magical item so very rare that only three gods she knew of had one, and none of them this small or intricately decorated. Whoever this was from had obviously put a lot of considerable effort into having it made.

“does my lady wife like her gift?”

She hadn’t expected his presence with the celebrations currently going on, but honestly she should have. Sans always had the habit of suddenly appearing from around corners or showing up spontaneously. 

Frisk spun on her heel, her hand quickly darting up to brush away the tears beading in her eyes as they widened at seeing her husband standing just within the dark shadows of the doorway.

At this point in their relationship she’d grown accustomed to his comings and goings. The only thing she never understood behind the actions was if it was done simply because he liked to use his name and title as the lord of death to unnerve others and to demonstrate the power he held, or if it was merely a fleeting moment of whimsy for a cheap thrill. 

One thing that always irritated her to no end though, was that he enjoyed targeting her the most.

Such as now; with an embarrassed flush on her cheeks and a jolt of shame running down her spine as she struggled to hide the very emotion she so blatantly wore. Gifts between spouses was a tradition, but she hadn’t given any thought to it. She didn’t think for a moment her lord husband would be partial to the tradition.

Frisk should have known better given how their whole relationship had even started.

“I...am afraid I did not prepare anything for you in turn.” 

His gaze, always so penetrating and watchful, dropped from her face to the looking glass she clutched to her chest, not missing the subtle way her knuckles whitened as she subconsciously tightened her hold on it.

As if he’d try to steal it away from her.

Sans’s smile widened. “what more gift could a husband want than the company of his wife?”

Her face stung as it turned red, and her voice came out uncertain, higher in pitch, as she stared at him. “I trust you mean platonically?”

“I have the desires of any man, for his bride, and while i wouldn’t turn away such an offer...” 

She tensed as his sockets did a slow, calculated roll of her form before flickering back up to her face, the gesture causing her heart to skip for the second time that night. “in this instance my intentions are entirely innocent.” He chuckled.

Frisk watched as he held a hand out in offer, his phalanges slightly curling as if beckoning her to him with a still ever present grin. It would be so easy, in another time and place, for Frisk to have believed the innocence behind his smile. But he always wore it, when amused, irritated, and when being cruel as Death often had to be.

It made it so hard to understand him.

Casually she slipped the now darkened looking glass within her robes and tried her best to keep her expression unreadable as she placed her hand in his, the icy touch of his bones draining the warmth from her, but never able to steal it all completely.

The edges of his smile seemed to soften as he glanced down.

It did something to her to see that. He acted so touch starved, so easily awed every time they had the briefest of contact.

They both stood there in silence, his thumb slowly running circles into the back of her hand the longer he held it. She sucked in a breath at the shiver it sent up her spine but dared an uncertain look up at him.

“Are we not going somewhere?”

His subtle movement stopped but he didn’t look away from where they stayed joined.

“is there somewhere you wish to go?”

She didn’t respond, and he took that as an answer. He gave one more slow, deliberate, stroke of his thumb before finally releasing her. If Frisk didn’t know better she’d have thought she’d heard a small sigh from him.

And then she finally noticed the faint blush on his cheeks.

“...Sans?”

“hmm?”

“Have you been drinking?” 

He looked her in the eye as his grin hitched higher. “whatever gave that impression?”

Frisk narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, the faint blush darkening as she stared him down and cultivated one on her own cheeks. She hadn’t noticed just how cute his magic could sometimes manifest itself, just how it left a vague ethereal glow that bathed the inside of his normally obscure hood.

“Sans…only women are supposed to drink today.”

His sockets lidded. “from what i could see earlier in the night, you weren’t in the mood, and it would’ve been rude to waste wine provided by asgore himself.” 

She knew he was using a poor excuse, but it was enough of one it lit a flicker of embarrassment in her. Frisk stubbornly focused on one of the gold medallions that held up his cloak to avoid eye contact.

“You just wanted to drink.”

“can you fault me? it was my favorite after all.” She glared at his cheeky smirk. “pomegranate.” 

“...”

“...”

“...If only divorce was an option.”

Sans’s sockets widened and then he let out such a deep, bass heavy, laugh Frisk openly gawked at him. It took a moment for him to compose himself but once he had his voice was filled with mirth.

“sadly it isn’t. i would only welcome the challenge to make you mine yet again, if i could.”

She couldn’t think of a response to that, not one that wasn’t insulting at least, and really she didn’t feel like trying to argue with the thick skulled god before her, it would be pointless, Sans never backed down when it came to a play on words.

Silence stretched before he spoke again. 

“i should be getting back to the celebration, gillby wanted to talk to me regarding a trade of some sort.”

Frisk suddenly felt a pang that made her grimace. She hadn’t realized she’d actually been enjoying the company. Maybe it was because they rarely spoke, or maybe she was just that emotionally vulnerable tonight, but her words were hesitant and honest. 

“I understand...I enjoyed this. The casual conversation.”

Her husband tilted his head.

“i should be thanking you, this was just the break i needed from the crowd.”

Despite herself she chuckled. “Of course, why would I ever assume you asked for my company purely for it alone?” 

He went silent, the brim of his hood covering his sockets as his tone came out blunt. “if this wasn’t what i desired i wouldn’t have asked for this when you offered me a gift in turn.” 

How did he keep doing that? Slipping behind her walls so easily with honeyed words after repeatedly testing their strength with his indifference and often selfish actions? He barely ever tried but it was always enough to make her question her stance on him.

“You’d better hurry back, I don’t think Grillby will be sober enough to remember his reasons if you don’t.” She whispered.

Sans gave a small bow, his hand swiftly cupping hers and bringing it to his teeth for a kiss. When he stood her hand was still lifted, frozen in place by confusion and surprise.

“i bid thee goodnight, happy solstice my queen.”

He vanished.

Frisk opened and closed her mouth dumbly, an almost plea for him to stay forever trapped on the tip of her tongue. She stared at where her husband had stood and slowly pulled out her looking glass.

Her first Solstice in the Underworld hadn’t gone well as it could’ve been, but it was still memorable.

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Northern Lights

Maul x Reader 

A/N: I’m back at it again with another Maul fic! This is a cute idea that was suggested to me by @justalittlecloud! I needed and idea and they didn’t let me down! I kind of made up a story for the Northern Lights in the Star Wars Universe since I couldn’t find anything with a quick search. Did I take beats from Romeo and Juliet? Yes. And did I take inspiration from an Estonian myth? Absolutely. I just hope it’s a good story! ALSO! If you’d like to be tagged in my Starwars, or Maul-specific writings, or any other writings that I post, feel free to let me know!

Original Imagine/Summary Kinda Thingy: Maul is curious about the Northern Lights!

Warings: None, just cute, sweet, cotton-candy fluff!

Word Count: 2,322.....this was supposed to be short.....whoops.....

“Come on Maul! It’s just a few feet further! We just have to cross this little creek, and get through that bit of underbrush ahead of us.” You explained excitedly as you all but drug Maul up the side of the mountain.  

“My love, I know that you know what you’re doing, but are you absolutely sure that we’re going to the right place? This seems pretty out of the way, and we lost the trail a while back.” Maul stopped walking and pointed behind him, taking you by surprise.  

You turned and snickered at him with a smile. 

“Of course hun! I wouldn’t just take you to some random planet and travel far off a mountain trail if I didn’t know what I was doing! I’ve done this a thousand times dear. It is my home planet after all. And my favorite place on that planet no less.” You gave Maul a smirk, and he gave you an unsure look. 

“Alright. I trust you, but if you get us lost, I’ll hold it over you until the day we die.” He joked with scrutiny, pointing an accusing finger at you. Still, beneath his uncertainty, he could feel your excitement and certainty through the force, and it sent a endeared warmth through his chest. You were so cute when you were excited. 

“We won’t get lost dear. I promise! We’re almost there!”  

You smiled as he gave in, and let you take his hand again to lead him.  

You and Maul had been married for a year now. Today was your anniversary, and you wanted to do something special for him. You had to admit that coming to your home planet was a little personal pleasure just for you, but you wanted to share it with Maul, and show him something you knew he would never forget. And where better than your favorite spot in the galaxy (besides at his side of course)?

When you pushed away the last of the underbrush Maul’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened. Before him lay paradise. From the top of the cliff he could see the emerald, mountainous valley for miles. The river than ran through was thin and shining like a silver ribbon under the night sky. And that sky. He had never seen so many stars in his life. Never had darkness been so beautiful. 

He was brought back to you by your chiming giggle. He didn’t even realize that you had let go of his hand, and sat on a blanket you had laid out presumably hours before you had brought him here. He closed his mouth which had fallen open at the sight of this paradise. He hadn’t realized that had happened either. 

As Maul joined you on the blanket, you smiled to him. You were surrounded by soft light from the many little candles you had lit around you. The glowing light brushed your cheek with gold, and shined off the silk dress you wore.  For a moment he forgot about the valley and the stars. You were so beautiful. Enchanting and alluring in this paradise.

You giggled again, amused by his stunned silence. 

“I was much the same the first time I saw this place. It’s gorgeous during the day, but the night makes this place indescribable. The glittering stars, and the silver river. It’s like magic. It’s paradise for me.” 

Maul was finally able to gather his thoughts into some semblance of a coherent sentence. There was so much he wanted to say, and it all wanted to spill out at once.  

“This place is...you’re...everything here is just....perfect.” He said, “Everything here is perfect.” 

He breathed out, looking from the valley, to you again with all the adoration in the galaxy.

Joy beamed through you and through your smile. Maul felt it wave through the force as you hugged him. He melted. He fell into the hug, and all but crushed you. Maybe, if he hugged you tight enough, you would be able to feel all the love, appreciation, adoration, devotion, and everything else he felt for you in it’s full measure. If only words could be passed from skin to skin.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” He murmured into the crook of your neck.  

“Of course my love. Only the best for our anniversary.”   

Maul pulled away with a suspicious look. 

“You’ve had this planned for months haven’t you?” He teased, knowing full well your meticulous tendencies.

You chuckled, and pulled away to look him in the eyes, hands slacking around his neck to rub the skin at the base of his neck.

“Perhaps.” You gave him a mischievous look paired with a smirk. 

“The cutest smirk in the galaxy.” He thought.

He laughed at your ambiguous response, though he knew the real answer.  

“Well, then I will happily enjoy whatever it is you have planned my dear.” He said as he pulled you in close beside him. You merely smiled at him in a way that said that you were indeed hiding something.

He had his suspicions about your plan. There was certainly something he wanted to do tonight, though that could wait if need be. He wondered what exactly it was that you were so excited to show him. What could make this paradise better? He never could have guessed what was in store for him. 

“Don’t worry love. That which I want to show you will show up soon.” You promised, “Until then...”   

You held his face, and turned his gaze from the stars to you. 

For the first time tonight, he really looked at you. His eyes met yours, soft and deep as he watched you, memorizing the colors of your irises and the candlelight glowing within them. His eyes wandered slowly to follow the curve of your cheek, and when he reached your lips, his thumb brushed gently against them. His eyes didn’t leave your lips until you looked down, bashful because of his intense gaze.  

“Hey,” he cupped your jaw with his hand, and gently nudged you to look up at him, “Don’t look away from me.”  

His whisper sent a shutter down your spine and sharp inhale through your lips.  

He stayed there. Staring at you with adoration and a little something more.  

There was a beat of silence before he took a shaky, laboured breath in. 

“May I?”  

His voice was breathy; desperate and he cupped your cheek, glowing with candlelight.

You chuckled a little, and looked into his wanting eyes.  

“Of course you can my love. We’re married remember. You don’t have to ask every time you want to kiss me.” Your hand held his to your face as you smiled back up at him.

His lips crashed to yours. They melded together as though they were made for each other long ago when the universe was first born. Your hands reached out to hold his handsome face. 

His touch traveled to your waist, and ran up your sides, pulling your frame in to press against him. He could feel the silhouette of your body beneath the silk of your gown. His hands wandered and rubbed at the fabric, feeling it wrinkle under his fingertips, barely protecting you from his searing touch. Oh how he wanted you to touch him. He wanted to feel your skin on his, your hands on his bare chest. Your lips on his neck. Oh he needed you to cool the burning desire in his soul. 

But before he could make his desires known, he felt you begin to pull away. His lips followed yours, unwilling to let you go. He tightened his hand around your waist and gave a disappointed whimper at your persistence. He never wanted to stop kissing you. 

You chuckled into his kiss, and held him back by his shoulder. 

“I know my love. I’d adore to kiss you more, but there’s something I have to show you...Look off to the horizon.” You whispered to him, pointing out to the edge of the world.

He pouted, but he was curious, as always, so Maul turned his head and when he saw what lay on the horizon, his eyes blew wide, and your smile grew wider. 

“Wha-what is it?” His smooth voice was filled with wonder at what he saw.  

The night sky had grown darker. Deeper. The stars were still shining, but cutting through that darkness, and through the stars were bright, beautiful ribbons of lights, cascading down to the horizon. Blues and greens danced between the mountains, and the river ran silver below. 

“It’s called Aurora Borealis. The Northern Lights.” You explained, endeared by his curiosity.    

“It’s beautiful.” He whispered. 

He was transfixed. His eyes were filled with whimsy, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled as wide he could, and he didn’t think of anything else. The hues from the sky mirrored in his eyes, and you couldn’t look away from them if you wanted to.  

 “What are they?” His voice pulled you from your state of admiration.  

You blinked and collected your thoughts. 

“Do you want the scientific answer, or the legend I was always told.” You asked. 

“Either.” His voice was breathy again, but this time it was filled with wonder; He still hadn’t looked away. He looked at the sky the way he looked at you. 

“I’ll start with the legend then.” You smiled, and scooted closer to Maul, laying your head on his shoulder, your arm reaching up to rub his back, “The story goes that there were once two lovers who were bonded by the Force. Their love ran stronger than any in the galaxy,” You noticed Maul grimace in reaction, and you huffed in amusement, knowing full well his opinion on that detail, “But despite the strength of their love, they were forbidden to be together. He was a nobleman, and she was a slave girl who served his mother. So, for many years they hid their love until the nobleman was married off to a princess whom he did not love, and made to move to her home planet. The slave girl was heartbroken, as was the nobleman, but they promised never to forget one another. And their promises held. So, as a reward, when the two had lived their lives, and passed on from this world, the Force reunited their spirits, and they were wed in the afterlife. The lights you see are their spirits, travelling together for eternity, followed by the celestial spirits, and beings that celebrated along with them. They travel the sky and bless those who see them with a love strong enough to last through life and death and beyond. You explained before releasing a happy sigh,“That’s how my parents always explained it to me. I loved that story.”  

Maul took a second to look at you, his eyes holding only admiration.

“That’s beautiful my love. It reminds me of you.”  

“Of me?” You asked, cocking your head in curiosity.

“Of course.” He stated, looking back to the ribbons of light before continuing, “The way you love me, it transcends this galaxy. Your love is that strong. That true. And you show me that every day you stay beside me. Even beside that, like the lights, getting to see you, even just once, is enough to leave one wanting for a lifetime. And getting to see you every day? Your light never dims. You could never dim.”  

Maul kept his eyes glued to the lights. He may be married to you, and tonight may be your anniversary, but when those words fell from his mouth, he couldn’t look to you. Embarrassment warmed his face. In all the time you had been together, he still had trouble letting his heart spill from his lips. But when you turned his face towards you with a gentle palm on his hand, he knew that his words were more than welcome. 

He saw tears in your eyes, but these weren’t tears of sorrow. No. He could feel your overwhelming gratitude and love and admiration for him crashing into him. He knew you could feel his love as well.  

“I love you.” You whispered before pulling him in, and kissing him with your whole heart. 

“I love you too,” He breathed between kisses, “I have always loved you. The minute I set eyes on you I needed you to be by my side. My heart begged your name when we met, and since then I have never wanted any other word to fall from my lips. You are the light in this universe. You are every star. Every sun. Every planet. You make my dark soul feel beautiful.” 

“It’s because you are beautiful my love.” You cooed, tracing his jaw with your finger, and following his tattoos with your eyes, “You’re calming like the ebbing of waves on a shore. When I hear your voice, it’s a soft lullaby. I remember, when we met, it was your voice that caught my attention. It never seemed to match your reputation. I couldn’t get enough of it, and to this day, I still can’t. WHen I hear you say my name, my world stops and everything is perfect.” You huffed a laugh as your eyes flitted from his jaw to his own eyes.  

“I can’t believe I was lucky enough to marry you.” Maul whispered to you, although you were alone. 

“I can’t believe I was lucky enough to meet you!” You smile at him through a laugh with endearment shining in your eyes.  

“You’re the world to me my love. The galaxy.” 

“And you’re the galaxy to me.” 

Maul kissed you softly before turning his gaze once more to the Northern Lights.  He loved you. His wife. His rock. And he would love you through life and beyond. That was a guarantee, and promise he would never, ever break. 

Tags! 

@justalittlecloud, and @fanficsforheartandsoul​ ! 

Feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged!

[timeforelfnonsense]

Between Heaven & Hell

Astarion x Dafni

Rating: M (no spice but its mentioned) 

Ao3

Inaleth Sweet is a D&D oc belonging to one of my dear friends @ladyofthelatke from one of our old games. We were talking about Dafni liking romance novels and realized she'd be a fan of Inaleth. A fun little easter egg! The name of Dafni's book was also brainstormed by our D&D party! I don't know that I love the ending but meh!

Sunshine & Starlight: My on going bg3 series 

Downtime for Dafni had become rare and fleeting in the past few days. Not that she mined being busy! She’d never been much good at sitting still. Her mind moved from thought to thought as quick as a hummingbird’s wing. A life of adventure rather agreed with her breezy disposition, that was a silver lining among the mess at least. But she found herself road-weary and overextended. Perhaps it was the tadpole or the fact she’d been in more battles in two days than she had in the last year. She couldn’t be sure. Either way, a little idle time would be good for her.

She was lounging on her belly in a grassy patch on the river bank, idly flipping through the dog-eared pages of a novel bound in soft pink leather, Between Heaven and Hell scrawled across the cover in faded gold lettering. It was a rather risqué account of an amours elf torn between the affection of her aasimar and a tiefling suiters. The first in a series penned by one Inaleth Sweet of Waterdeep -  A fellow eladrin and personal favorite author of Dafni’s. She’d read it dozens of times but it never failed to enchant and intrigue her. 

She’d always enjoyed reading. It was the only time she could bring herself to be (mostly) still. She could lose herself in the colorful whimsy of her imagination. She’d always been a romantic. Her headful of silly daydreams of love and adventure from a tender age. She had spent days on end in her village imagining what the world might be like beyond the shelter of Peleira and the familiar forests and shores of Faerie-Gwynneth. Books provided her wanderlust an outlet in the years before she crossed into the Material.

A pale hand snatched the book from her hands pulling her back to reality. Astarion glanced down at her with a mischievous grin, raising a singular angled brow. She clumsily fumbled to her knees attempting to reclaim it from him but Astarion simply raised the novel out of her reach. 

He looked almost ethereal, shrouded in the soft, peachy glow of sunset as he flipped through his stolen prize. His loose undershirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel showing off his lanky feline-esque physique. It was completely unfair for him to be that gorgeous! Somehow he managed to mix boyish charm with noble dignity. She imagined Astarion was very much the kind of man humans pictured when they talked about the peerless beauty and grace of the elves. 

“My, my, Daffodil, I never pegged you as a consumer of salacious novels. Aren’t you just full of surprises?” He said through a chuckle as he began to thumb through the pages, “You fold the corners of your books? And I thought I was despicable!” 

He might have been from the Material Plane but he had that spark of mirth common to those hailing from her homeland. It was a welcome change of pace. She’d found he could be quite charming (when he wasn’t being surly or aloof). He’d taken to treating her with teasing endearment as of late.  He would refer to her by little diminutives such as darling or dear. That was when he wasn’t calling her by that twee pet name, Daffodil. She knew that the majority of his doting was little more than suave twaddle but she couldn’t help but be won over by him.

 There were things about himself he’d clearly chosen not to disclose. She was never one for secrets but she could hardly begrudge others for having them. Astarion’s omissions were likely connected to whatever had made him so prickly in the first place. She was curious of course but she wasn’t going to press him for anything he was unwilling to give.  Dafni understood relationships much the same way she did gardens. Both required patience and dedication in order for something beautiful to flourish. She earnestly hoped a genuine friendship could blossom between them but that meant allowing him to open up to her in his own time no matter how badly she wanted to bombard him with a-million-and-one questions. 

 “What have I done to deserve this roguery?” 

“Roguery?” Astarion snickered.

“Roguery.” She repeated. “Now find your own way to pass the time and give me mine back!”

Her brows stitched, her lower lip forming that perfect little pout of hers. She was trying very hard to appear cross but her eyes gave her away. They were sparkling with impish delight as she made another valiant effort at retrieving the silly thing. Despite her tilt towards clemency, Dafni was a bit of a puck. 

“This is my way of passing the time. I can only wander among the trees so many times before the novelty wears off. Besides, making you blush is far more entertaining.” 

Dafni snorted a blite smile forming at the corners of her plump lips, “You are incorrigible, you know that right?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

“Well, I suppose if you are that bord I could read to you?” She yanked the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest smug and victorious. Reaching out with her free hand to tap a finger on the tip of his nose. “But, I’m skipping all the dirty bits!” 

“Spoilsport.” 

“It’s that or walking around the woods for the hundredth time.” 

“You do raise an excellent point.” He sighed carefully arranging himself on the grass beside her, “Very well, I’ll agree to your stipulations.” 

“Just be glad I’m not going to make you read for one of the characters! And because I’m just so sweet I’ll even start from the beginning for you.” 

He listened intently as Dafni delivered the tale as if she were performing a one-woman play. Her face was adorably expressive as she changed her voice with each new character. Messy curls bouncing with every animated gesture. Occasionally she’d trail off feigning horror at the ‘dirty bits’ as she called them.

 What would lewd words have sounded like in her lilt voice? Part of him wanted to find out right then. That wasn’t the first time such musings had crossed his mind. Dafni had made a few appearances in his private thoughts since their meeting. She had a coy, maidenly allure that conjured up all kinds of tempting images. These were nothing more than flights of fancy but fun nonetheless. Just another benefit of keeping her around.

He found himself lingering around her almost on instinct. The joy that followed her was tangible and warm as the sun on his skin. When she was near his mind felt quieted and the fear that gnawed at him would soften just a tad. He had grown to genuinely enjoy her company. He’d expected her to be dull and overly pious. Instead, he found she was rather amusing, coquettish even. She was witty and observant, always having a playful quip at the ready. The sort of whimsical woman whose effortless charm drew people in. She would have made an excellent vampire if not for her ridiculous soft heart.

Her compulsive need to care for every living thing  with a sob story was somewhat vexing but he could hold his nose and deal with it most days. He’d make a comment here and there but really that was for her own good. She was painfully naïve, always seeing the best in people. It was clear to him Dafni’s life had been gentle. Free of hardships that might have taught her to approach others with such little skepticism. 

A part of him was grateful for her lack of suspension.  He knew gaining the trust of at least one of the members of the party would be crucial if he intended to enjoy the benefits of traveling with a group long term. Her friendship and propensity for peace making provided him with no small measure of safety. Still, that safety was at risk if she continued to offer herself up on a silver platter to every soul with even the smallest tale of woe she came across.

He glanced over at her, a found (begrudging, but found nonetheless), smile on his lips. The last rays of the setting sun casting its light on her lovely cherubic profile. While his motivations for befriending her had been far from altruistic having her near made his life provable better. When they’d first met he’d assumed her kindness would come at a price but she had surprised him, wanting nothing but his company in exchange. Without thinking he reached out cupping her cheek in his hand. The freckles, sage skin was unbearably soft  and warm against his cool palm. Her heartbeat quickened bringing his attention to the tantalizing, wildflower sent of her blood.  She leaned in close her eyes fluttering closed- 

“We should head back to the others, it’s getting dark.” Astarion muttered, pulling back from her.

“I- Ha, of course. It’s late…” Her lower lip was caught in her teeth, her eyes darting ever so quickly from his mouth back to his eyes. 

As tempting as she might be he was already in too deep with her. If he kissed her, he’d only want more. Any change to the current dynamic could disrupt the fragile safety he’d acquired. He couldn’t put himself at risk for the temporary happiness she might have brought. Perhaps when things were more settled. When he knew he could afford the risk, he would know the taste of her lips. For now though, he would have to resist. 

[iglooface]

Gonna vent a little bit cuz my brain is hurty and I don't feel confident enough to bother anyone in particular

Behold, like my sixth massive depressive episode this year; and there will be more

I feel ugly inside and out because of how I grew up and it's so messed up I don't even know where to begin.

In short, I grew up with everyone hating me, and the people who didn't either got slaughtered by life or by themselves. I was close with plants and animals (still am) because they weren't malicious like people were. Been self aware for a long time insomuch it's made my therapists drop me as a project under the idea that I can't be fixed because I won't let go of reality. The last several years have been a severely drugged and depressing time as I've watched my own life go down the drain.

I used to have a life force and now I'm just an empty oil pot with my contents spilled and dry. Like honestly? I feel disgusting and I don't feel like I belong in my skin. Skin is a very trapped feeling to me and I hate it. Skin is so restricting. I hate having it. I got made fun of a lot when I was younger because of my skin so now I'm ashamed to have it.

Growing up as a walking corpse wasn't easy. I got sick when I was just so young. So much blood loss and so many burns leading up to me being ghostly pale and light sensitive. My dark purple hands didn't help either. I'm so cold to the touch and it isn't fair. But hey, now I'm used to coughing up blood clots regularly. It feels normal. I expect it. Unfortunate enough to say, but blood is such a familiar smell and taste and feeling. I prefer my blood over my skin. I know bleeding out is bad but I can't help but be fascinated by the morbidness of it.

I got along with snakes better than people, even spiders and rats. The moss didn't care that I was living or dead. The moss never cared.

Getting older, I never cared either. My emotions got away from me and live outside of me. All I had was teeth, blood, and claws to keep myself together. I'm not bothered by gore. It just your insides out. I don't mind rummaging through corpses and carcasses like my life depends on it.

I would draw for fun as a kid. I was imaginative and talented and I was growing.

But then others happened to me. I was harassed and mocked and ridiculed for liking and participating in something so whimsical as a child. That was it. I was a child and people hated it. They all had to point out that I was insignificant and meaningless; that I would never get anywhere by just merely drawing. I was berated until I was forced to drop the thing that made me happy. I resorted to doing it in private and as a coping mechanism for the social pain I was put through.

As an adult; I say this but I'm not even there yet, I was harassed and bombarded in the opposite direction. Why don't I pursue art? Why have I not joy? Why is my happiness lost? Why have I not whimsy or interest in such things?

Perhaps because it was beaten out of me by the systematic abuse of society, children and adults alike.

I try to respond and amend my joyless ways by attempting to show interest in something less permanent than my impending future, and I am beaten down once again. Perhaps it was never the fascination of childish things or the lack thereof, but perhaps it was always me.

Is there something wrong with me? Why don't I belong?

Why am I never enough?

I don't know what to do with myself, and I doubt I ever will know.

I tried pursuing art as a career but I was denied under the pretenses that it was far too out there, and that it would never sustain a life. Yet, when my sisters ask for specialized careers and training, my parents bend over backwards in order to serve them in their infinite needs.

Shortly after, my parents come after me again, demanding why I don't pursue art. They take away everything of my being and personality and demand to know why I don't grow.

Every time they behave it makes me make eye contact with the fourth dimension beings as my soul is slowly drained from me by their ignorance and manipulation.

Several months ago, I expressed to my mom privately that I was suicidal. She laughed and said that sucked and left. I thought I could trust her since she was gentle with my sisters.

I asked if I could see a therapist. My doctor told me to go find a therapist. My doctor told my parents to find me a therapist. I was denied because "therapy doesn't work."

Maybe I wouldn't be such a failure if I was born the right way.

Maybe people would have liked me better if j was different

Maybe I wouldn't hate myself as much if I had the right body. Or no body at all.

I'm not happy, I never was; but now I feel more alone than before because the few people I had are now leaving me like they all do, and I'm left with only the lovely souls I've been blessed enough to find here. And these people are amazing. You guys are amazing. But I still feel alone and empty. I don't know what this void is from but I hope I can fill it soon or stitch it together. I just need to be fixed but apparently that's impossible.

I just wish that anything about myself could be right and acceptable and I just wish I was cared for like my colleagues and I wish I had any future at all.

I'm just so tired of being alone and injured.

I'm tired and I don't know what to do

I'm tired and I'm hurt

And everything is so loud and there's so much going on inside me, yet I'm still empty

What the hell is wrong with me

[did-somebody-say-pizza-rolls]

Good Omens fandom, please consider the following: 

As a rule, Crowley and Aziraphale did not celebrate holidays. First off, they had been alive so long and seen thousands of celebrations come and go over the passage of time that neither could keep track of the ones they liked and didn’t. They tried indulging in a few mainstream holidays such as New Years and Guy Fawkes Night, but they couldn’t seem to keep the interest alive over their extended years in London. They also avoided major religious holidays like Easter and Christmas; Crowley says that those types of holidays aren’t mean for the demonic in nature, and although Aziraphale always insinuates that he doesn’t appreciate the commercialization of such holy celebrations with large fat men and magical rabbits, it was really because he didn’t want Crowley to feel excluded. As a matter of fact, Aziraphale loved the whimsy of a magical bunny that leaves children chocolates and a jolly old man who inspires children to be well behaved all year, although he would never admit this to his companion.

And they certainly did not celebrate birthdays, mainly due to the fact that neither knew exactly when the other was born. Back when they were brought into existence by the Almighty, a calendric system had not really been sorted out yet, so the angel and demon remain content with not knowing. This, of course, does not stop them from telling the wait staff that its one of their birthdays whenever they go out for dinner. The two get a mischievous glee from splitting a free dessert and even though Aziraphale sometimes complains that the act is morally wrong, he never turns it down.

Which meant that, for the most part, Crowley and Aziraphale did not exchange gifts. This does not preclude a few instances, like when Crowley brought over a box of chocolates for the opening of Aziraphale’s bookshop, or the time when Aziraphale picked up a matching mug set, one with wings and one with little horns, because really my dear, they’re quite neat, don’t you think?

If they were really accurate, there’d be some sort of insect instead of these silly horns.

Oh, hush.

But neither had ever purposefully bought the other a real gift. It seemed to be part of the Agreement they’d made long ago: don’t buy gifts for the other side, lest the prying ears of Heaven and Hell found out. Besides, they cherished each others company and found companionship on Earth a gift in itself over their long, long lifetimes.

But after six thousand years, this tradition ended in the December after the “Not Apocalypse” when Aziraphale placed a neatly wrapped present on the demons lap one night in his flat above the bookshop.

Crowley looked down at the package with a perplexed brow and wouldn’t touch it, lest it explode right there on his lap. Aziraphale fell silent and offered no words of explanation, wringing his fingers tightly and refusing to meet Crowley’s confused, yellow eyes.

“What’s this?” Crowley finally managed to ask, gently caressing the tartan bow on top of the large box.

“Nothing much.” Aziraphale inhaled sharply. “Just a gift, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I got that much.” the demon replied, picking up the box to examine it. Lord was it heavy! (I’ve got to stop doing that) “Why?”

“Well, I just—you know, I—I mean,” Aziraphale stumbled, looking for the right words, “I figured with the world not ending and the head offices being pacified for the time being--I thought it would be nice to give you something for helping prevent the end of the world.”

Crowley blinked. “Aziraphale, that was months ago! Besides, I thought we agreed—“

“No gifts, I know.” the angel interrupted. “But I saw this, and—well quite frankly I couldn’t pass it up.”

“But I haven’t got you anything.”

“No worries, my dear. I’m not giving this to you expecting reciprocity like the humans do around this time of year.” Aziraphale admitted. “I simply…” his confidence was wavering. “…Thought you would enjoy this.”

Crowley looked to Aziraphale, whose face turned blush in embarrassment or anxiety, he couldn’t tell which. He smiled warmly at his angel to alleviate the tension and turned his attention back to the box.

It was wrapped in a shiny black paper with a red tartan ribbon almost too perfect to be torn apart. The demon delicately pulled at the ends of ribbon, freeing the box and ripping off the paper. Inside the box was a folded gray…something. Crowley lifted a layer to reveal a thick fabric, his fingers brushing against the feathery soft cover. Despite its soft feel and appearance it was heavier than expected, but something Crowley was definitely familiar with.

“It’s a heated blanket.” Aziraphale explained nervously. “It’s got a little remote attached…” he went on, moving to the couch to pull it out and show Crowley. He didn’t notice the demon’s ears turn bright red.

“…and you can turn it on like so,” the angel demonstrated on the corresponding button, “in order to adjust the heat to whatever you desire. I figured, well… you always complain that you’re especially cold during the winter months—perhaps because of your cold blooded nature—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, mortified. “Not that you’re cold blooded by any means, well, actually I’m not completely sure—what I mean is your reptilian nature, you know how…occasionally you become a snake and all that...” For Heaven’s sake, Aziraphale, get a hold of yourself!

Aziraphale took a deep breath. Crowley remained silent, staring at the blanket as it warmed up in his hands.

“What I mean is…I thought this might help.” He sighed. “And I know it seems like a Christmas gift, but it’s really not, I know how you feel about the holidays, but it’s cold out now and I thought of giving it to you a year after the failed Apocalypse to celebrate the anniversary, but it would have been summer then and it’s cold now, so it seemed logical to—“

“Angel!” Crowley finally interrupted.

Aziraphale fell silent, anxiety building with every passing moment.

“I love it.” The demon smiled a genuine, soul lifting smile.

The tension flew away from Aziraphale as quickly as it had come. “You do?”

“I absolutely love it!” Crowley laughed as he pulled the rest of the blanket out of the box and onto his lap. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received. Well, the only one too.”

Aziraphale let out a small chuckle. He gazed into Crowley’s eyes. They were beaming with joy.

“I’m so glad you like it. I nearly bought one for myself!” The angel confessed. “The things humans think of!”

Crowley smirked devilishly. “No need for that, angel. This one’s plenty big.” He said, throwing half the blanket over Aziraphale’s torso.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but blush. He pressed his palm to his cheek; it was burning. Crowley noticed.

“From the blanket.” Aziraphale admitted sheepishly.

“If that’s what you insist, angel.” Crowley put his arm around his companion. “Come here, you big softie.”

Aziraphale happily obliged.

[thisguyatthemovies]

Why so quirky?

It took more than 14 years to get around to it, but the other night I watched the 2005 Cameron Crowe train wreck “Elizabethtown,” a film that sometimes shows up on Worst Movie Ever lists. It’s bad, but its “worst” status is more about disappointment, given the writer-director’s previous track record {“Say Anything…,” “Almost Famous,” “Jerry Maguire,” “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”). Still, did I mention it’s bad? A ridiculous premise, plot lines that go nowhere, obvious and heavy-handed symbolism, multiple and sickeningly sweet (and annoying) “meet cutes” and quite possibly some of the worst casting in a major motion picture ever all add up to a movie that deserves much criticism.

“Elizabethtown” also is notorious for inspiring the term “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” (or MPDG). The phrase usually is credited to Nathan Rabin, who wrote a piece about the movie, “The Bataan Death March of Whimsy Case File #1: ‘Elizabethtown,’” for AV/Film nearly 15 months after its release. In it, he describes Kirsten Dunst’s character, Claire, the inexplicably bubbly love interest of suicidal-but-handsome protagonist Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom), as the embodiment of the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Rabin describes the type as such:

“The Manic Pixie Dream Girl exists solely in the fevered imaginations of sensitive writer-directors to teach broodingly soulful young men to embrace life and its infinite mysteries and adventures.”

By that definition, applied retroactively, Dunst’s Claire isn’t the first MPDG in movie history (some include Katharine Hepburn’s early roles on MPDG lists), nor is she even the best example of one (think Natalie Portman in “Garden State,” or Zooey Deschanel in “Yes Man” or the TV show “New Girl”). And the term, which Rabin reportedly now regrets coining, has become better defined with attributes that don’t necessarily fit Claire, even though she will forever be considered the epitome of the trope.

In case you have not seen “Elizabethtown” (and you’ll probably be just fine never seeing it), Bloom plays a shoe designer who works for a company not unlike Nike. Somehow, he is saddled with all the blame for a shoe that is so bad that it is recalled and will cost the company (somehow) nearly a billion dollars. Bloom’s Drew Baylor is fired and decides to off himself, but a phone call about the unexpected death of his father interrupts him during his first attempt. Drew, a West Coaster, is enlisted by his family to travel to Elizabethtown, Ky., his father’s hometown and where the elder Baylor has passed away, to bring the body home for cremation. Relatives in Kentucky have other plans for his final resting place.

Drew takes a flight to Kentucky and – wouldn’t you know it? – is the only passenger on the plane. That’s where Claire comes in. She apparently is the lone stewardess, and she is a talkative one at that. She won’t leave Drew alone from the get-go, and she (somehow) senses Drew is troubled and needs help because, for a guy who had a relatively important position with an internationally known shoe maker, he has no idea how to live this thing we call life. She does what any upstanding MPDG would do – she makes the repair of his damaged soul her sole purpose in life.

Claire would seem to vary from the standard trope in that she has a life of her own, at least when she and Drew meet. Her career would afford her at least a modest independent existence. She seems to have a nice place. She even has a boyfriend, though it is not clear if the guy really exists or, if he does, he is all that into her. But Claire quickly becomes a genie let out of the bottle; Drew’s every wish is her command. She just happens to show up wherever Drew is so much that if the roles were reversed, Drew would be accused of stalking. She says all the right things, even as Drew continues to hint at ending his life. She even (somehow) has the availability to, within a brief period of time, piece together a scrapbook (including hand-drawn illustrations) that will help Drew navigate a soul-discovering solo cross-country road trip AND (this being a Cameron Crowe movie) has provided the soundtrack via mix CDs that are (somehow) timed perfectly to coincide with landmarks during Drew’s travels. So omnipresent, so magical is Dunst’s character that some have suggested she was written to be a guardian angel sent to save Drew’s life. That interpretation at least makes some of Claire’s story semi-plausible and almost tolerable.

Claire is selfless to a fault, and she certainly is strange, maybe unstable. But, if anything, Manic Pixie Dream Girls lost even more sense of self and picked up more strangeness as the stock character turned into a full-fledged trope. Think Deschanel as Allison in the 2008 Jim Carrey vehicle “Yes Man.” As is always the case in these things, Carrey is a cynical, disillusioned man looking for meaning in life. He happens upon Allison, who hits a lot of stock MPGD notes. She zips around town on a moped. She wears mismatched clothing from vintage stores. She performs avant garde (and awful) music. Her primary means of supporting herself (?) is by teaching a class that combines jogging and photography. She is everything Carrey’s Carl Allen is not, mostly carefree. They, of course, engage in romance, even though Carl is notably older than Allison (that’s the case in many films, not just MPDG movies).

In 2010’s “Scott Pilgrim vs. the World,” two characters combine for the role of MPDG. The titular character, played by Michael Cera, is a slacker musician a few years removed from high school. That doesn’t stop him from dating a high-schooler, Knives Chau (Ellen Wong), whose sole purpose is as a superfan for Scott’s band. Then Scott meets the girl of his dreams (literally), Ramona Flowers (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), who is at least older than Knives but still is quirky (she works delivering packages while on roller skates) and impulsive (she often changes her hair color) but is too aloof and serious to be a full-on MPDG. She does, however, end up being a sort-of trophy, to be won if Scott can defeat her seven evil exes. So, her existence still is minimalized.

Some movies have addressed the MPDG thing head-on. Though sometimes cited as a MPDG, Kate Winslet’s Clementine in 2004’s “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” is actually the anti-MPDG. Sure, she wears orange hair and gloves with the fingertips cut off, and she’s impulsive. But she also is flawed, sometimes dark and independent (MPDGs typically don’t get any of those traits). And she says this, which seems like a direct response to the trope, even though the term didn’t yet exist, as written by Charlie Kaufman: “Too many guys think I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a fu**ed-up girl who’s looking for my own peace of mind. Don’t assign me yours.”

Those are sentiments Claire in “Elizabethtown” never would have expressed, her focus being on a lost, sensitive young man and his happiness, not hers. Nor would she be allowed to even think such, given she and MPDGs like her are the products of writers and filmmakers who want to believe that this idealized version of young women is out there. That will probably be the case as long as men are writing movies, just as the male equivalent of the MPDG – the ridiculously handsome man with washboard abs who manages to accumulate much wealth despite always being around to tend to a woman’s needs and whisk her off to beaches on his private jet – will always exist as long as women are fantasizing about them and flocking to see them in rom-com-drams and reading about them in romance novels.

A little healthy fantasy is fine, but movie tropes and stereotypes are not, if we believe they can shape how we live in real life. Manic Pixie Drew Girls, though not totally a thing of the past (Joi, the A.I. girlfriend in 2017’s “Blade Runner 2049,” comes to mind as an updated version), are becoming outdated as more and more females are having their voices heard in Hollywood. MPDGs are being replaced by independent women who are the focus of the story and don’t have to be bubbly if they don’t feel like it, who aren’t required to be quirky and can chase their own happiness. These characters, unlike Manic Pixie Dream Girls, are multidimensional. They give a movie depth, not just gloss.

Imagine if that’s the kind of character Dunst’s Claire could have been. “Elizabethtown” wouldn’t show up on so many Worst Movie Ever lists. And it wouldn’t have been forever linked to a tired movie trope and the terminology to describe it.