#jumin x OC

[keikaru]

love's imbroglio - mystic messenger (Jumin Han/MC)

“I might not have the experience or knowledge like you, but I am a fast learner. Teach me, and I’ll be able to perform within your range of expectations. If I can’t keep up—dismiss me. But before you let your biases muddle your judgement, at least let me prove myself that I am not incompetent to whatever level you hold me at.”

Her eyes narrowed to the same firmness of her voice. She knew her mild temperament was close to succumbing to fury and disgust, but she smoothed her skirt and reigned in her anger. Once the elevator descended to the lobby, she could walk away and forget everything.

In fact, she could have walked away at any moment, damn the consequences. Yesterday, three days ago, last week when the deal was finalized. Yet she stayed. She couldn’t find it in herself to leave—not when her parents’ businesses were on the line. Not when her mother’s high end fashion line and her father’s grand hotels were at stake.

Although she should have been aghast by the severity of the situation, something far greater than those concerns reeled her attention away. Where did her older sister go?

The eldest was all gung-ho about inheriting her mother’s business that she interned and worked along their mother after high school and the following years. Her sister cut back on college classes and managed to be a part-time model and promote clothing lines and promotional items.

Now she—the second daughter—was thrust amid family problems. Correction—family business problems. Her disinterest in her parents’ business was clear, yet she found herself in the very core of it.

Most importantly, why did her sister disappear? And where did she go?

Her knuckles whitened as she curled her fingers into a tight ball. Her jaw was taut with tension. It was too soon to be reminded of her sister. She disappeared just five months ago. 

She saw Jumin visibly stiffen, but his face was impassive as he brushed her comments aside with a pointed, sidelong glance. His eyes reflected a cold indifference, almost imploring her to utter one more bold statement that would lead to her resigning by tomorrow. 

The air between them was filled with a thick silence. Mingled in with a tension and discomfort on a spectrum she hadn’t known existed until now.

She was going to be fired. She was certain of it. As her gaze caught his reflection in the elevator mirror, she noticed that he crossed his arms—it crinkled the sleeves of his dark tailored suit—and lowered his gaze. He suddenly found interest in the plush carpeting. Likewise, she averted her eyes to the wall beside her. But she had to voice her concern—her irritation about his inability to look beyond the small world he submerged himself in. That, and his obsession with his beloved feline partner, Elizabeth the third. “I apologize for my behavior,” Jumin said quietly, keeping her at a distance. Jumin shifted and leaned his shoulder against the wall. His eyes were trained on the glowing elevator buttons in front of him, but his body partially faced her. “I’ve been under much duress as of late. I didn’t mean to ignore or snap at you this entire week. I’ve been…inhospitable ever since our first meeting. And truthfully, it is not your fault by mine.”

[iselpehache]

Three Hearts In Halves - Update!

It's been... a while. Phew. A few weeks ago, I stumbled on this fic again, I read everything I had -uploaded and yet to upload- and I decided to give it another try. I don't know if I'll finish it or not, because I can tell you it still has a long way to go, but I really like this idea and at least I wanted to make another attempt.

So, for those of you who don't know, chapters 19 and 20 have been recently uploaded to AO3. Today, I'm also uploading chapter 21 and, although I won't promise anything, I will try to upload every two weeks (or at least at a better pace, rather than a few chapters every 4 years).

As always, if you have something to say or ask, you can hit me up here as well as in AO3's comment section :) See you around!

[serenitysilverheart]

finally got the chance to play mystic messenger instead of watching routes on youtube and now i'm stuck in the brainrot purgatory again-

anyways, i genuinely love this game and am very passionate about these two deeply complex men that it kills me inside to have to only pursue one of them at a time... so i made an entire au for my mc-insert so that they can all hold hands! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) that and i believe jumin and seven are totally hilarious when put together so katherine (mc-insert shown above) is basically the positive mediator between them.

anticipate more content in the future perhaps... because there is far more to the au that is just festering in my brain +_+ and i'd like to further expand on how these three function with each other, so stay tuned(?)

[juminies]

in order to get to the heart

marriage of convenience, on occasion, is not so convenient.

♡ — jumin x original female character. small amounts of canon compliant jumin x reader, but mostly canon divergent (jumin is unhappily married prior to the start of the game). 1600 words. title from heartlines by florence + the machine.

They just say anything to each other these days.

“This façade drains me beyond comprehension,” Jumin confesses the minute he walks through the door. His fingers loop into the knot of his tie and pull it looser around his neck.

“So you say,” murmured half into a cushion tucked up to a woman’s chest as she types on her phone. “It’s not for our benefit though, is it?”

On some level, this is always how it was going to be for Jumin, he thinks. In a marriage stripped to its fragile bones. A sacrificial lamb for the sake of the corporation, for mutual social and financial gain.

He leans down to untie his shoes.

It would be untrue to say there weren’t veiled attempts, in the beginning, to love. When that didn’t work there were attempts to like. None successful, of course. Lately it’s becoming more difficult to believe this arrangement is better than any alternative. Between the two of them there is a lot of nothing.

The woman remains quiet—focused—but nods easily against the woven fabric she’s leaning into when Jumin asks, “Do you not get tired of coming home from work to find me occupying your space?”

He knows that in public they look good together. He knows that their careers slot together effortlessly. Despite what the media may suggest, however, they are human. Jumin included. The way he feels nothing for her does not match the way she feels nothing for him. The way she yells that he is robotic does not match the way he stoically calls her irresponsible.

They do not sleep together, or eat together, or do any of the romantic things Jumin wishes he hadn’t let himself privately indulge in the idea of. And it’s not that she’s not nice—she’s intelligent and beautiful and kind, when it suits her. Perfect on paper until she wasn’t. When she laughs with her chest Jumin can almost imagine a world where she smiles at him like she does others and it makes his heart weak. Part of him wishes, truly, that that was the case. In reality it feels like nothing.

It could be worse, he tells himself—repeats it like a mantra.

Concealed beneath it is fear. You could be like him. You could repeat his mistakes.

She throws her phone haphazardly onto the sofa beside her and looks up to where Jumin is standing in the doorway. He’s mostly backlit from the light in the hall, the lamp beside his wife barely grazing his features but lighting up hers in all the wrong ways. The orange glow casts unpleasant shadows over places she’s usually pretty. He should have the bulb changed to something less harsh.

“Not much we can do if you don’t want the press to kick up a huge fuss, sweetie,” she says.

The pet names are a jest he has learned to tune out.

“Will they not make a fuss over our divorce in three years’ time nonetheless?” Jumin asks. It’s hypothetical, of course. They will.

“Maybe we’ll have grown on each other by then.” Her tone is disinterested; feels almost mocking. Her phone chimes to let her know her driver is outside. “I’m going out. Shall I take my card or yours?”

“It makes little difference to me.” Jumin looks at his watch. It’s almost 10pm but he doesn’t ask where she’s going. A bar, perhaps.

“Could you adjust my necklace?”

She holds her hair up messily, and he does.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he tells her, then briefly wonders if she’ll meet someone tonight and sleep with them. He pictures her naked beneath a stranger. It feels like nothing.

She takes her own card and squeezes his bicep softly as she walks by him on the way out. She shuts the door more forcefully than is ever really necessary.

At some point Jumin suggests she move out of their—his—apartment and into the one directly below; just recently made vacant. He probably would have suggested it earlier had the apartment been available earlier, but their district of Seoul tends to be under high demand.

“I thought we agreed it was a bad idea to live separately,” she says. It’s a statement, not a question. They had done exactly that.

Jumin hums, tired. Tired from his trip and tired from trying and at some point, it seems, he has lost an indistinguishable part of himself to her for good.

“We did. Although I would say that that was long enough ago now for us both to have become quite aware that we do not do particularly well sharing the same space for considerable periods of time.”

“You’re gone a lot anyway. The place is big enough for us to avoid each other if needed, and I like it here.”

She exhales sharply; amused.

Jumin has no idea why until she adds, “More so when you’re not around, to be fair.” And that explains it, just about.

“Stay here when I am travelling if you must,” he tells her. Somewhere along the way his suggestion has morphed into more of an instruction.

“Fine. Don’t tell your father, though. Or mine.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They buy it outright in her name, the cost split fifty-fifty. Jumin tells her to keep it all when she sells it later. She tells him she won’t.

They argue tonight, as usual, about who will be chauffeuring them to a company gala. They had agreed that Jumin’s driver would take them only for her to assert for the hundredth time at the last minute that she doesn’t trust him, though she has not legitimately spoken to him more than once and he has been working for Jumin’s family longer than she has been alive.

It’ll cause a stir if the two of them show up separately so they end up in her car, as usual. Jumin apologises to Driver Kim via text for requesting him when he wasn’t needed on the way there, and they arrive late.

The venue reminds Jumin of the last RFA party. His wife had not attended despite her invitation, so it is not proper grounds for conversation. However, when they are out like this they are a happy couple like the legal drabble says, so he says it anyway—if just to appear interested in her.

“I’m sure this is nicer than your friends’ charity get togethers,” she replies lightheartedly, and they are called over by her father before Jumin can retaliate.

The façade stays firm for the remainder of the event. Jumin can easily distinguish her fake laugh from her real one, and he can tell when she forgets who he is for a moment and touches him a little more tenderly than either of them really mean.

They are silent on the drive home. They are silent in the elevator, until it stops one floor below Jumin’s penthouse. “Goodnight,” he says. “Sleep well.”

“You don’t have to say that, you know,” she counters, and smiles softly as the doors slide shut between them. “Not when it’s just me.”

Elizabeth the 3rd is snoring softly when he unlocks his door, and it is the only sound he can hear. He basks in the bliss of having nobody around when he is already so mentally exhausted, and takes out his phone to see it’s just after midnight and Yoosung has opened a chat room.

He enters it, multitasking as he changes his clothes and brushes his teeth. His cat patters into the room and jumps up beside him when he perches on the edge of his bed. She smells frustratingly like perfume and something oddly like guilt threatens Jumin with a dull blade.

Wait!! says Luciel. Think someone entered the chat room.

Jumin checks. There is a name on his screen he doesn’t recognise.

Odd.

Who are you? Identify yourself.

“Jumin. It’s me,” your voice is soft and bubbly; maybe a little nervous but still pleasant on his ears. An intriguing introduction. He almost finds himself chuckling.

Jumin moves the phone from his ear and glances down at your name again, just to be certain he’s not imagining things, then focuses in on the plainness of the wall in front of him.

“I hope you realise blurting out ‘It’s me’ is not a proper way to identify yourself to the person on the other end of the line.”

He had hesitated briefly before telling you he is married. Now he has known you for five days and whatever he’s feeling is somehow, ridiculously, already far greater than any emotion he has ever felt towards his wife.

He invites her out for dinner at their usual restaurant the following evening, and she tells him if he has something to discuss with her she would rather keep it simple. As an alternative he invites her to the penthouse and opens a bottle of wine he knows she likes. When she arrives her hair is tied up experimentally and she is wearing a new shade of lipstick. She surprises him when she actually accepts his offer to pour her a glass.

“I am going to talk with my father,” Jumin says, and she knows what he means. It’s only later that he will find out she had already brought it up with hers. “For what it’s worth, however, I apologise that it ended up like this.”

“Me too,” she agrees. Jumin notices the light catch a glassiness in her eyes as she continues, “If I could have loved you, I would have.”

She stays for a few hours and it is the most sincere time they have spent together in three years.

That night, Zen has a dream.

[xelasrecords]

All That Glitters

Han Jumin x OC

Jumin Week 2024 - Day 3: Green Daylily (Romantic Love, “The Flower That Helps Forget Sorrows”) @juminweek2019

All that glitters is not gold. An arranged marriage brings out the worst in Aecha and Jumin, and witnessing him fall for someone he can’t have may just be her tipping point.

A/N: I’ve tried to break the cliché of a cheater being just bad in Wedge the Knife Under My Skin, now this is my shot at humanising the gold-digger stereotype. Jumin as perceived by a resentful wife trapped in a marriage she doesn’t want may not be the Jumin you know. I humbly ask you to withhold your judgement and see it from her eyes.

TW: self-harm

Words: 5.4k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Aecha thought she could do this. Jumin was hers, but he could not belong to her, could not, could not, could NOT!—

She was sometimes a simpleton but not a deranged young woman. Breathe in, then out. Slipped her hand beneath her metallic dress that parted at her leg and twisted the skin on her thigh.

She was good and entertaining and desirable.

Aecha parted the masses and conversations halted. Her beauty glimmered and cloistered the useless watchers. Not only known as someone’s wife, her position in her company was just as important in this event. Businesses relied on hers to function, so Aecha could seamlessly negotiate winning deals and blackball distasteful people as she saw fit.

She headed to her husband. Jumin raised his champagne at her and smiled. Only she could see how insincere the smile was.

He never liked her enough to bestow her any semblance of authenticity.

No, that was her. A solemn, porcelain-faced her.

Jumin stared at the back of the woman’s head when she turned to thank the waiter and Aecha nearly broke. His naked yearning was embarrassing and she felt the urge to apologise to anyone who caught him. When a bald man approached him, Aecha intercepted and went on about nice, irrelevant things like the doltish young lady she decided to be.

I’m sorry, my husband is occupied. Partner? What business partner? Come on, don’t be boring. Leave your work at the office and drink! Here, take mine.

He spun the champagne glass in his hand and drank where her lipstick had stained its rim.

Aecha giggled and covered her lips while looking down at the marble flooring. The violet lights were giving her a headache. Fucking gaudy. People these days liked to use flashing colours as a theme instead of acting like it was a proper formal event.

Was Jumin staring? Of course he was. And he was coming, Lord save her.

Jumin rounded his arm around her waist and kissed her head. It meant nothing and Aecha felt nothing. She used all her strength not to lean away when he ruined her sleek, freshly cut bob and embraced him. Over his shoulder, she did a quick sweep for another sighting of the woman, but she couldn’t find her.

That was how it started. At a gala dinner, a married businessman sought a reprieve through a fleeting conversation with a woman as small as an easily crushed bird. He was entranced ever since. His wife couldn’t blame him, for she was also a wraith in their marriage. A chasm was where she looked, and this might be her best plunge yet.

*     *     *     *     *

Jumin had been gripping his phone tightly. Whether he was waiting for her to text back or deciding to send the first text, Aecha couldn’t be arsed. She just wanted him to stop bothering her peace with his pacing.

She slammed her book shut. “Would you be so kind as to fucking sit down and overthink quietly?”

Jumin scowled at her, but Aecha didn’t bristle. Gone were the days when she had to be timid in front of him. Jumin was not as powerful as everyone thought. He couldn’t even break out of his marriage. “You complain when the house is too quiet, yet you berate me when I endeavour to make this space livelier. I can’t get anything right.”

Aecha crossed her legs and studied her glistening nails with a breezy disinterest. “The brunette looked like your taste.”

While they did have an agreement to be able to see other people as long as it was discreet, the reality of it rattled Aecha more than she liked to admit. It was not jealousy she felt. She hated that Jumin won in this game of misery, that he had found a raft to tide over his loneliness while she had to drown alone.

Jumin sighed. “I only conversed with her because she and I share a similar view on certain subjects.”

“Like wanting her mouth around your cock,” she said. “Did you manage to sneak off for a quick fuck in the closet?”

“You are dreadful when something is not to your liking.” Jumin’s face twisted in disgust. He was only this expressive when they were alone. All that wasted media training. His childhood tutor would be disappointed. “I apologise that you had to deal with unpleasant associates on my behalf, but it’s been a long day. Do postpone your vitriolic statements. No one has the patience to deal with your tantrums all the time, Aecha.”

She held her hands up in mock acquiescence. “I only have one request: do not fuck her in the master bedroom. Take the one downstairs if you’d like.”

Jumin seemed to be calculating something before he sat beside her and placed her book on his lap. “If I ever brought anyone home as you apparently wish, perhaps I should do it in the bedroom beside ours. You could take notes on being more delightful in bed.” He smiled, but it made him look all wrong. Too crude and cruel for his elegant countenance.

Aecha patted his cheek, hot derision burning against her chest. “It says more about your dirt-poor standard that you still want to sleep with me if you’re this dissatisfied.”

“You’re within reach.” Jumin shrugged. “But I assure you, that won’t happen anymore.”

The jab didn’t land as he expected. Aecha was well-acquainted with the extent of his obsession with a mere cat, so she shuddered to think of being on the receiving end as a person.

“You’re a boring fuck too, Han Jumin. I just had to make do with what I had.”

Jumin let out an audible scoff and Aecha seized her book. At least he had a good mind not to crease the pages.

*     *     *     *     *

Let bygones be bygones.

Their squabbles never lasted more than a few days, but still, sharing a bed with Jumin was ridiculous. Aecha didn’t know why they never separated despite the many available rooms in this penthouse. Perhaps sleeping with someone you loathed was better than no one at all.

The harsh glow from Jumin’s phone washed over his face as his fingers tentatively danced across the screen. His facial features were worth the applause, she had to admit. As beautiful as a forbidden painting, as empty as a forgotten memory. No wonder the brunette was drawn to him. Jumin was a mystery to be solved and opposition would only drive her further into his arms.

“I can’t sleep with your phone light,” protested Aecha.

“You can turn the other way,” Jumin replied without a glance at her. “Elizabeth the Third is sleeping soundly, see?”

The white cat, curled like a doughnut between them, peeked through her eyelids. Aecha stroked her fur and she purred, dozing off again. “Have you met her again?”

Jumin’s fingers froze while a new message popped up on his phone. How would that woman feel if she knew he was lying side by side with his wife as he flattered her? She must know about Aecha’s existence. Their wedding was highly publicised.

But Aecha couldn’t judge her for trying to hold on to a strand of flimsy hope. It happened to the worst of them. She hadn’t been strong enough to resist the temptation either.

“Yes.” The word scraped against Jumin’s throat. “Have you taken your melatonin?”

He was always trying to get rid of her. “I want to take more than the prescribed dosage,” she said.

“You wouldn’t want to relieve the experience of your stomach being pumped. Neither do I.” He pulled the duvet up Aecha’s neck and folded the corner into a neat rectangle. “So save us the medical trouble and go to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day.”

“For you, maybe.” She suppressed her surprise that Jumin noticed her shivering. “You finally found a toy to distract yourself, but it’s hell for me every day.”

“You should have acclimatised yourself to this by now.” Jumin looked down at her with a pity that bordered on condescending. Aecha wanted to scratch it off his face.

She nodded at his phone and he turned the screen away. “You’re like a little kid with a candy dangled right above him,” she said, “but you’re too short, too powerless, to reach it.”

“She is a human being, not a candy or a toy. Get your facts straight.”

“You’re stupid for someone so smart.”

Jumin let out a long-suffering sigh. “Now who’s acting like a child?”

That was enough reaction. As long as Jumin was still useful, Aecha couldn’t annihilate him, but she could prick him with little poisons every day. She might have been sold off to him for the betterment of her father’s company, but she would not be delivered meek.

Aecha curled into a foetal position, eyes trained on him with resolve. It was self-flagellation to a degree; rage broiled inside her whenever she caught his genuine smile. She wanted, for once, to be on the receiving end of that smile. Jumin never seemed to enjoy his conversations with her, and she was always incensed or numbed by the end of them.

It wasn’t that she wanted to be loved by him per se. She thirsted for the acknowledgement that she was worth loving and capable of reserving romance despite everything that made her a monster. It offended her that Jumin never even tried to weigh her worth and turn this marriage into a real thing. One look at her and he detested her with the kind of resentment that didn’t fade with age.

Aecha knew that her sheer existence was a nuisance for Jumin. But if not her, who? Who else could save him from his mess? It wasn’t her fault that he didn’t put up a fight when Chairman Han trapped him into marrying her. C&R was suffering and Jumin was even more so. Aecha put the fire back inside Jumin when no one could. He had been a ghost of a person after his best friend disappeared. Now he was often irritated at her instead of walling off his emotions. Now he was someone to a nobody.

But affairs never ended well and Aecha was not planning to let go. She anticipated their doom with the giddiness of a child watching a car explode.

*     *     *     *     *

They were strolling in the sweltering heat, cloaked under the pretence of two lovers having a romantic date at the park. Aecha swerved when a teenager was cycling at them full force and pulled Jumin out of the way.

Posture was a good excuse to do something nice. Aecha didn’t want to forget how to be generous. That was a fitting practice.

Jumin thanked her and held her hand as they passed the glint of a camera behind the bushes. Aecha almost squirmed. Damp, sweaty hands were the bane of her existence. Jumin squeezed her hand in warning and she rolled her eyes.

“You never give me flowers when we’re having an outing,” Aecha said as they saw a man surprising another man with a bouquet. “Send me some if you want to maintain your image. We’ve come too far to generate false rumours about our divorce.”

“There are many ways to show affection without flowers.” Jumin’s attention was on a kid licking her ice lollies. “I wonder how the taste of that frozen stick differs from a gelato.”

“Artificial.”

Jumin turned to her in shock. “You have tried it?”

“I’m not as out of touch with commoners as you.” Aecha huffed. “The employees appreciate it more when you can understand their culture.”

“I shall take note of your practice.”

When Aecha caught a whiff of another bed of roses, she got annoyed that her mission was side-tracked. “Send me flowers, Jumin. Or is that something reserved for your side chick?” Aecha knew she was shattering their fragile peace, but she couldn’t help it. Her bitterness always came out before she could stop herself. “Her sad face is charming to lonely boys, I’ll give you that. Makes you want to save her, doesn’t it?”

Frustration flashed across Jumin’s expression, but he swallowed it. Jumin never lost his temper, not even when they were not being watched. If she was a cannonball, he was an impenetrable fortress. She couldn’t elicit an explosive reaction no matter how hard she tried.

It didn’t mean Aecha would stop trying though. One hole in the wall was all it needed to break him down.

“Keep her out of our date.” Jumin texted his assistant before slipping his phone into his pocket. “A bouquet will be delivered to the penthouse tomorrow. I expect it will be sufficient if you post it on your socials.”

“I thought we had a scheduled lunch with your father tomorrow.”

“I’ve called it off until further notice,” said Jumin. “I think we can both agree that none of us is eager to talk to him.”

“He’s not mad?”

“I’ve held up my bargain as a prized son. He’s already tied me to you. He should not expect anything more.” Jumin’s jaw was set. “Would you like to set our picnic here?” He gestured at the plain grass.

Aecha didn’t have an affinity for the great outdoors. Insects made her antsy and the sweat that dripped down her back and diluted her perfume were very far from her definition of a perfect date. The public demanded a lot of things from her.

She stood at the edge of the stone path as Jumin laid out the picnic rug. Knowing she had to play her part, Aecha cautiously knelt on the cloth and fished out the various pastries the chef had packed, arranging them neatly on the plates.

“Would you fetch a book for me?” Aecha asked as they dug into their croissants. “I’ve been eyeing the first edition of Anna Karenina, but I can’t find it anywhere.”

“You have a competent assistant. Utilise him.”

She didn’t know how, or why, but Jumin had a knack for making her feel small. She didn’t know what to expect from him or how far his niceties extended. “Do you really hate me that much?”

Jumin stared at her impassively, his tone bored. “Don’t pretend as if you loved me more than my money.”

The photographer was holding up his camera, so Aecha leaned forward and brushed off the crumbs from Jumin’s lips. “I never did.”

It was more complex than that, but he would never understand.

Aecha yelped when a tomato fell out of her croissant onto her skirt. She hated everything about today’s faux date. Jumin almost offered her a tissue, but he paused and shifted closer to remove the stain himself.

Aecha desperately wished this nearness made her heart thump. Their arrangement would’ve been so much easier if they could learn to fall in love with each other.

Aecha was a tortured wife, but she lived a fate worse than Anna Karenina’s. At least Anna found the will to break free and left all the wretchedness behind, but Aecha would never seize that chance.

She hated herself the most for it.

*     *     *     *     *

Well, there was a bouquet on her bedside table.

Supposed it was gorgeous. Supposed she didn’t know what these particular flowers meant because she never fell in love with a flower connoisseur who was always excited to teach her the language of flowers and never had to leave him for money. Supposed she never got tangled in her sister’s hospital debt and her father’s company wasn’t on the verge of bankruptcy.

She quashed the image of the man in her mind without mercy. It had been years ago, and she thought she might have loved him then. He was kind and loving and had no business of knowing what Aecha had become. A public figure on the news was all she had to be to him.

Aecha plucked out a stem from the bouquet. Green daylily. It should have been the romantic sort, but Aecha would not subscribe to its meaning of forgetting the pain from the past and present. She would hold on to the thorny memories. She wouldn’t have survived this marriage otherwise. Sometimes to stay alive meant to torture yourself with your kindest ghosts.

And how could she forget the very life she was living? Not a day went by without Jumin reminding Aecha what true sadness was. She wanted to be angry at Jumin’s assistant for getting the wrong flowers, but it was nobody’s fault, she knew. Her fury was really just loneliness was really just disappointment and guilt directed at herself.

Her choice brought her here. Her loyalty to her family cost her Jumin’s friendship and genuine love from someone, anyone.

Both of them would have suffered less in this marriage if they had been able to forge even the barest connection. Who, aside from Jumin, could understand her plight exactly? They were trapped in this together. They were supposed to turn to each other when hope eluded them. Jumin was as lonely as her, and no amount of wine and luxury for Elizabeth the Third could mask his emptiness from her.

They had never laughed together, Aecha realised, despair writhing in her gut. There were sarcastic chuckles and conceited smirks and plastic smiles, but never laughter that made them double over while clutching their stomachs. She hadn’t expected love to be on the table when she entered this marriage, but she had thought at least happiness could be within reach.

Aecha choked back a sob. She had turned her life over to Chairman Han and sentenced herself to a lifetime indenture. She couldn’t predict what she would do if her sister ever woke up. She wasn’t sure she would be happy with what Aecha had done.

But she didn’t need to approve of Aecha, she just needed to wake up.

Aecha captured a photo of the daylilies and posted it on her socials. Not a second later, comments of awe and support flooded her inbox.

Aecha was so lucky to have such a rich and loving husband. She received a surprise bouquet from a busy director while their husbands couldn’t even bother to take them out for dinner.

They had seen the pictures from her park date. How sweet, how romantic. Proof that if you were truly committed to your partner, you would carve out the time to be with them.

Aecha wanted to carve out her throat.

She turned off her phone, lay down and stared at the ceiling. She was so, so lucky.

*     *     *     *     *

“Why green daylilies?” Aecha asked as Jumin walked through the front door well into midnight. His black hair was dishevelled and his cufflinks were gone. She didn’t have to wonder where he had been. “I’ve never told you my preference.”

Jumin shot her a pointed glance. “Exactly.”

No surprise there. He didn’t bother remembering that she had a vase of irises in her study.

But Aecha was in a better mood tonight, so she decided to play nice. “They died on that same day, but I liked them when they were alive. Thank you.”

Without turning on the light in their walk-in closet, Jumin pulled off his tie and placed it on the island. Aecha noticed a lipstick smudge on the tie when she aligned it with the watch partition below the glass top. She imagined the other woman blindfolded and eagerly anticipated Jumin’s touch. A kiss here, a bite there.

What did it say about her character if the thought didn’t rankle her at all?

Aecha’s sex with Jumin was never adventurous. It was solely to satiate the thirst when they only had each other to turn to. They had agreed that searching outside their marriage was an awful waste of time and a gateway to a publicity nightmare.

“If you would like, I could arrange it with the florist so you’ll receive a bouquet each week.” Jumin was also nice today. A satisfying fuck could do that to someone.

“That’s not necessary.” Aecha shrugged. “How is she doing?” There was no hatred in her voice, only curiosity. She truly was baffled at how someone could enrapture Jumin so completely that he had been sparse in his appearance in his own house.

Jumin stiffened as though waiting for the next blow, and only slumped slightly when her jab didn’t come. “Nothing good can come out of this, you know that. She gains nothing and has everything to lose.”

“You also have a lot to lose,” Aecha said with a gentleness that sounded foreign to her ears. Strangely enough, she pitied the state they had put themselves in.

“I am hurting her.”

“You hurt a lot of people.”

“I know.” Jumin dipped his head, and it hit her that his exhaustion was more than a good fuck. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his shoulders appeared to be weighted down. He had also been like this in their first year of marriage.

“Does she make you happy?” Aecha asked.

“Yes.”

“Does that make you unhappy?” she asked again.

Jumin’s breath trembled as he exhaled. “Yes.”

Aecha glanced down at the ticking watches locked in the glass island, relentlessly marching forward without an end destination. “Then I feel sorry for you.”

Jumin shook his head. “Don’t be. You bear the most pain of them all.” He covered her hand with his and the diamonds on their wedding rings clinked. “Don’t presume I didn’t know the origin of your rage.”

Aecha’s hand balled into a fist. Jumin was giving her too much empathy and it felt like she was stripped to the flesh and forced to bleed before him. “Stop assuming accountability. Your knowledge won’t change anything. I chose to marry you for myself.”

“Right.” Jumin leaned against the island casually. “How’s your sister?”

Aecha looked away. The closet suddenly felt too dark and imposing. “You wouldn’t see me here if she had woken.”

“I can accompany you to the hospital on your next visit.”

She drew her hand out of his grasp. The moment was over. “No.”

Aecha had tried her best to separate her sister from this world. Her innocent, pliable little sister would be easily mangled by the vultures here. Aecha was the older one, so she should take all the knives thrown at her.

No one touched her sister. Not even her husband who was sometimes lucid enough to be nice.

Aecha grabbed a pair of fresh pyjamas on the way out and flung them at Jumin. He caught them with his face, which just meant that he had shit coordination. “Take a shower before you sleep,” she said. “You reek of her.”

*     *     *     *     *

“Jumin, did you see my toothbrush?” Aecha yelled from the bathroom.

“It must have been thrown away by the housekeeper!” Jumin shouted back.

“For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled. A quick rummage through the cabinets presented no spare toothbrushes, so she wrapped a towel around her body and exited the bathroom. “Do you have any idea where she stocked it?”

Jumin was stroking a sleepy Elizabeth the Third on the bed, lying on his side. “I’m afraid not.”

Aecha put her hands on her hips. “How can you not know?”

“The last time I recalled, you’re also an occupant of this house.”

“Housekeeping is not my territory. You have a big brain, use it.”

“It’s not mine either.” Elizabeth the Third sneezed and Jumin chuckled with endearment. Aecha never got to be at the receiving end of that laugh. “And my brain is normal-sized. I just had a health check-up.”

“Then who should I ask?”

The answer came to Aecha right after she spoke. At the same time, they called out, “The butler.”

She scoffed and the side of Jumin’s mouth quirked up.

“I don’t have their number. I’ve never even seen their face,” Aecha said.

“Me neither. All forms of communication are made between Assistant Kang and them.”

“Care to help me find my toothbrush then?” Aecha asked impatiently. When Jumin didn’t budge, she re-entered the bathroom, dunked his toothbrush into the toilet bowl, and thrust it at him with a winning smile. “Look, you need a new toothbrush too. It travelled into the toilet on its own.”

Jumin’s eyes followed the water dripping down the toothbrush. “You just ruined a perfectly good cashmere rug.”

“It will be the next thing that travels into the toilet if you don’t move.”

Jumin levelled Aecha a glare that would’ve made everyone else cower, but she simply raised her brows. He grunted. “We can check the storage room.”

“Perfect.” She tossed the toothbrush into the bin and clapped her hands, then winced at the thought of splashing bacteria onto her skin. “Right after I wash my hands. Where is the storage room?”

“You have lived here for years, yet you still don’t know such a simple fact?”

Aecha shook her head with confidence.

“I don’t either.” Jumin kissed the top of Elizabeth the Third’s head and stood up. “Let’s find the mysterious room, shall we?”

*     *     *     *     *

It took them an embarrassingly long time to spot the storage room. In Aecha’s defence, it was located at the very end of the hall on the first floor where she had no reason to venture to. Jumin just thought she was always holed up in the library when she was not working. What was she supposed to do? Supervise the housekeepers around the clock? He could do it himself if he were so inclined.

To Aecha’s surprise, the room was remarkably tidy and spacious. She had been envisioning spider webs and broken bulbs; she should find the time to meet their house staff and thank them.

Aecha immediately scoured the room, pulling out drawers and opening boxes with determination. Jumin followed suit in a more curious fashion, flipping through files and looking into the washing carts with childlike fascination.

She paused. Jumin rarely showed this side of him to her. In fact, their recent exchanges had been bizarre. They fought, not banter.

What was happening to them?

“Did you get struck by lightning?” Aecha wondered aloud. “You’re easy to talk to these days.”

The scuffling from Jumin’s direction stopped and she turned around. “My—she suggested I treat you better, and she was right.” His smile was sad. “I have been cold to you even when you didn’t do anything wrong. My sincere apologies.”

He wasn’t standing far from her, but this was the farthest she felt from him.

Jumin couldn’t be told to do anything, barring this marriage. Jumin was obstinate and held a grudge towards women like her. Tolerating materialistic women was not in his nature, so the fact that he was changing merely because of—what, love?—was unacceptable. If he could change this much this fast, the woman could very well command him to do more drastic things.

“I didn’t know I was up for discussion. Doesn’t she hate me for being a hurdle to your eternal love?” Aecha couldn’t contain the bitterness in her tone.

“She understands this isn’t the ideal situation for any of us.”

“How saintly of her.” Aecha sneered. “What’s next? You promising her that this won’t be forever and asking her to wait as you find a way out?” She was picking at her nail bed with so much force that she felt a trickle of blood sliding down her thumb. When she wished for a disaster to befall Jumin and that woman, she didn’t mean to be the fallout. “Newsflash, you don’t get to divorce me. I will never accept it.”

Aecha’s hospital debt was building up at a rate that she wouldn’t be able to keep up with if it weren’t for Jumin, and the stability of her father’s companies relied on him.

She hated feeling powerless, but she had to do her part to save her family. It was the one thing she could do right in.

Jumin approached her with the caution of startling a feral cat. “I would never ask it of you,” he said. Another sentence spoken with kindness. Aecha loathed to hear it. “I’m aware of the consequences you would face.”

“Are you fucking with me? Drop the noble act,” she hissed. “She’s just one person. You don’t get to trade her for everything we’ve built. Our families wouldn’t cooperate if we split. Stocks will fall and the board will drive me out.”

Aecha knew she was far from being a favourite among the shareholders. The only reason they tolerated her was because of her relationship with Jumin. She couldn’t be seduced and tended to bulldoze over stupid, backward, outdated opinions. Her impressive performance didn’t matter when she couldn’t be moulded to their liking.

“I’m not going to divorce you. I also have my responsibilities.” Jumin massaged the crease between his eyebrows. “My end of the agreement requires me to stay with you to ensure the livelihood of our subsidiaries. I know what you will do if I attempt to leave. Your rage has no bounds. I won’t let you abuse your power and ruin innocent workers’ lives.”

Aecha was too hurt to react. She might be a headache to live with, but she was not evil. She wouldn’t put thousands of people out of their jobs because of her marriage issues. The media would hound her like wolves and she would lose people’s admiration. Love lost was almost always impossible to earn back.

But the fact that Jumin thought Aecha could do heinous things made her want to prove him right. It was too easy to latch onto fury and let it consume her. Why create a job crisis for strangers when she could strike at Jumin’s heart?

That woman was her final card. She wouldn’t hesitate to use it the moment he put her and her family in jeopardy.

“You’re wrong. I care about strangers,” Aecha said, her cheeks hot from restraining her anger.

“I have never seen that from you, Aecha.”

Jumin’s statement was so ridiculous that she had to laugh. “No, you just never see me.” She almost choked at the admission. “But that’s fine. You should keep an eye on that woman. You think you’re the only one with a hacker on your side? You already know what I’m capable of. What makes you so sure that I wouldn’t go berserk on her instead?”

Jumin came so close to her that she had to retreat until her elbow hit a cabinet. “Touch her and I won’t stand still,” he said in a low voice. “There’s only so much I can tolerate from you.”

Aecha’s tightened fists shook and she ignored the sting from the peeled skin. She looked up at him, holding back the urge to slam his forehead into the cabinet behind her. “She’s safe as long as my family and I are safe.”

Once upon a time, Jumin could have loved her, had she approached him with pure intentions. Their brief moments of camaraderie had proven it. But in this lifetime, Aecha had soured their relationship purely through the circumstance she entered Jumin’s life and he never forgave her for it.

Jumin scrutinised her for several seconds and she held his gaze without wavering. “Then we have reached an agreement.” He handed her a sealed package from his pocket. “Your toothbrush.”

Her blood smeared on the plastic as she snatched it from him.

*     *     *     *     *

Jumin had moved out of their bedroom into the guest room down the hall. They would see each other even rarer now.

Aecha cast a look around the library. Walls of books stretched up the ceiling with a sliding ladder docked on one side. She couldn’t remember when books ceased to give her lasting joy. She couldn’t remember the last time things didn’t hurt. She had caused this, she knew that.

Aecha rested her temple against the cold window and brought her knees to her chest. From her plush seat, she watched the gardener maintaining Jumin’s private garden, and there she noticed a small patch of green daylilies.

Jumin must have had them planted before they fought. She wondered if he would remove them from the premises soon.

Sometimes, Jumin was considerate. Sometimes, it almost made Aecha crumble.

She didn’t think her loneliness could amplify, but what had taken root in this penthouse was crawling up her limbs like vines, determined to crush her.

She wanted to stop fighting them.

But her sister. But her father.

Aecha gritted her teeth as she picked at the newly scabbed skin on her thumb. It broke open into a deeper wound. Fresher sting, freer blood.

Just one more day. Then another. Then another.

-

Footnotes:

Aecha always assumes the worst from Jumin, but I hope the subtle details were noticeable enough that this is still the Jumin we love, just trapped in his resentment of having to marry someone who’s blatantly after his money.

At the event, Aecha calls herself a simpleton because she threw herself into this marriage for her family despite her sense of self-preservation.

When Jumin squeezed Aecha’s hand in the park, it wasn’t a scolding. He was trying to signal “I’m here.”

It’s not mentioned in the fic, but Jumin personally picks out the daylilies for her, not his assistant. He doesn’t know she likes irises because he respects her privacy and never goes into her study.

Years of familiarity translate to them subconsciously caring for each other’s quirk without noticing: Jumin setting up the picnic because he knows kneeling on the grass squicks Aecha out, Aecha straightening Jumin’s tie on the rack because he doesn’t like things crooked...

The toothbrush scene isn’t just a comic relief. I wanted to show a domestic moment and what they could’ve had if they’d started on the right foot.

Aecha’s fingers are a small allusion to her downspiral. In the second scene, the fingernails glisten, but by the penultimate and last scenes, she makes them bleed.

Why an OC? Simple. Writer wrote about 2 women, writer backed herself into a corner because she had a hard time referring to who as who, main woman got a name and developed personality. Aecha means good daughter in Korean. I love dooming her from the start.

When I couldn’t decide whether to develop Aecha into a full villain or give her some redeeming qualities, my friend told me it’d be more interesting if she’s morally grey. That stuck with me. At the end, they’re just a married couple who are trying to survive this lifelong prison they’d put themselves in.

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[laqnm]

Oc x canon art dumpppp 💜

Only top left oc belongs to me💜💜

[samy-parker]

One of my most recent headcanon are the ship of Jumin and Zen's descendants. And the truth is, I love it so much ♡(> ਊ <)♡ but it's terribly hard to find a fanfic or reaction on Tumblr. This was the enemies to lovers drama that came out of my head:

[cornerofdrawings]

I love seeing Ray and Saeran in the same drawing

[myearts-uwu]

Myra’s past boyfriends

Myrana went out on a date and they met some people from Myra’s past

Anastacius: Get your HANDS OFF MY WIFE!

For context: For basically every dating sim game I’ve played in the past, instead of imagining myself as the MC, I prefer putting the MC shoes on my OC, my child, Myra. Just because it’s fun to imagine her being flirted with different people. 

Jumin from Mystic Messenger and Lucifer from Obey Me were the first guys that caught my interest in their respective games so I’d definitely consider them as some of Myra’s... partners lol.

Sigh... I just love having Myra as a free range OC cause literally it’s so much fun putting her in random stuff I’m heavily into.

[cozygaebee]

Christmas Couple YCH Commission 🎁

Hello! (^ω^)/ I'm opening a Couple YCH art commission for 800 PHP/15 USD! Slots are unlimited for now and this will run until the end of December 💙⛄✨

— I can draw your OCs or favorite characters with your OCs in this pose! (Human characters with animal elements are okay!) — I can also draw real-life people in this! — The expression of the characters can be customized! — Pose cannot be changed — Payments via PayPal, Ko-fi, GCash, and Maya only — TAT is 3-5 days per queue slot (I'll let you know where you are on the waitlist!)

If you're interested, please let me know! 😊🤍✨

[jafndaegur]

어두운 길을 비춰주는 저 은하수처럼 너는 나를 향해 빛나고 있었어 어둠 속에 찾은 단 하나의 빛 너에게 향하는 나의 길

The Astronaut, Jin

Something sappy, something wistful, and something just for me. Happy Valentine's 💝

[alexalithart]

En este comic, la mc es drogada por mint eye y la hacen perder cualquier memoria de ella y Zen juntos, pero el quiere sacarla de ahí.

Want an english version?

[yangviolet]

sooo bored someone message me!! <33

[darringdosie]

Accidents happen, don’t they?

Welcome to the ancient dreams of a modern land, enjoy the poison, or cough up roses 🌹.

Requests are open 24/7!

Twisted wonderland~ (master list)

Creepypasta~ (Masterlist)

Dialiok Lovers~ (master list)

Obey me~ (Masterlist)

Mystic Messenger~ (Masterlist)

[mandiemegatron]

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐞 || 𝟑𝟎 || 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬 || ♡

♡ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧! ♡

🚫 MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

♡ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐨𝟑 𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐞! ♡

° ᴍ ᴀ ꜱ ᴛ ᴇ ʀ ʟ ɪ ꜱ ᴛ °

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬 ;

Fuck Up My Makeup : Eustass x cis!fem Reader, nsfw/nsft.

The World in my Hands : Eustass x cis!fem Reader, light nsfw/nsft.

Losing The War : Eustass x cis!fem reader. SADNESS AHOY! Pure angst.

Just Come Home (Losing The War pt.2) : Eustass x cis!fem reader. Angst.

Cold Breeze : Eustass x g/n reader. Small blurb!

The In-between : Part two of Too Much Labour. Kid/Killer x cisfem!reader. Some angst, mild nsfw-nsft themes.

Four Times We Missed : Law x cis!fem Reader. super sweet and feelsy.

Breathless : Law x cis!fem Reader, hella sweet and soft.

Another Year With You : Law x cis!fem Reader. Laws Birthday fic. Soft, slice of life, a little angsty.

Taste Of The Divine : Law x cis!fem Reader minific. 2/2, completed. nsfw/nsfw, heavy sexual content.

The Way You Look At Law : Law x GN reader. Small blurb.

(You Make Me Do) Too Much Labour : Law x cis!fem Reader. Some sexual themes present, mostly angst.

Here, With You : Law x cis!fem reader. Some sexual themes present. Winnings for @icy-spicy 💖

Worship Me : Doflamingo x cis!fem Reader. Mentions of sex, song fic.

Tangled Inside : Doflamingo x cis!fem Reader. nsfw/nsft

A Moments Peace : Doflamingo x cis!fem Reader. mentions of sex.

Die For Me (Live For Me) : Doflamingo x cis!fem Reader. Mentions of blood, beheading, heavy sexual content.

To Be Loved : Rosinante x cis!fem Reader. nsfw/nsft, heavy sexual content.

Con Corazon : Rosinante x afab!reader. Nsfw/nsft, heavy sexual content. Winnings for @laidenbreecatchall 💖

Added To The List : Sanji x cis!fem Reader. Fluff, slice of life, light sexual content.

Birthday Crumble : Sanji x cis!fem named Reader. nsfw/nsft, heavy sexual content. Birthday gift for @therion-woods

Tasting The Wonders : Sanji x oc! , Winnings for @leftsidebonfire ! Fluffy and soft.

Under You : Zoro x cis!fem Reader. nsfw/nsft.

Just A Taste : Zoro x cis!fem Reader. nsfw/nsft.

Almost Too Warm : Shachi x cis!fem Reader, nsfw/nsft.

Simplicity : Penguin x cis!fem Reader. soft, slice of life. Milestone Giveaway prize for @guilty-sugar

Vaccination Day (Penguins version) : G/N reader, silly mini scenario.

Surprise, Surprise : Kaku x cis!fem Reader. nsfw/nsft. Secret Santa gift for @wolfegoddess

In His Hands : Killer x g/n reader. Slight mentions of sexual themes.

The Danger Of Being Yours : Sir Crocodile x cis!fem reader. Sexual themes present.

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 ;

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬, 𝐞𝐜𝐭...

First Time : Marco x Reader hc ; nsfw/nsft

First Time : Shachi x Reader hc ; nsfw/nsft

Abt. Doffy : Doflamingo x Reader hc ; nsfw/nsft

Fishman Shachi/Penguin : Shachi x Penguin x Reader hc/minific ; nsfw/nsft

Shachi with a Shy Reader : some nsfw/nsft themes.

Heart Pirate Boys sharing their hats with you! : Law, Shachi and Penguin x G/N Reader : suitable for all ages.

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐠𝐞 //

All of my One Piece commissions done by various artists, all in one place! ♡ Will be updated occasionally 💖

��𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 ;

𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬 //

Sweeter Taste : Saeyoung x Reader. a lil Valentines treat.

Purple & Green : Yoosung x OC (can be viewed as reader as well)! Super sweet and silly. [Ao3 only, guess I didn't post it here!]

For The First Time, In A Long Time : Jumin x OC (can be viewed as reader as well) Jumin deserves to have a break, goddamn it!

♡ Created 08/11/23 ♡

UPDATED 06/27/24

[ariseur]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆

who i write for 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

(final fantasy vii)

zack fair

cloud strife

sephiroth

genesis rhapsodos

angeal hewley

reno (sinclair)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

(final fantasy xv)

noctis lucis caelum

ignis scientia

prompto argentum

gladiolus amicitia

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

( jujutsu kaisen )

gojo satoru

yuuji itadori

megumi fushiguro

kento nanami

kugusaki nobara

yuta okkotsu

toji fushiguro

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

( mystic messenger )

hyun ryu / zen

707 / luciel / saeyoung choi

ray / saeran choi

jihyun kim / v

yoosung kim

jumin han

jaehee kang

╭┉┈◦ೋ•◦❥•◦my won’ts

i won’t do full on nsfw!! only suggestive stuff / innuendos

i will not write about polyamory or labels that are important to the story such as trans masculine, etc !! i’m not educated enough on this topic and would hate to offend somebody.

i will not write about anything involving suicide or mental health disorders, i am also not very well versed in this topic.

i will not respond to dm’s, if you want to talk to me or would like to request something, please send something to my ask box !! i’m very iffy on direct messaging.

i will not write oc x canon.

i will not write for or create any au’s / alternate universes!! i just hate reading about it and i hate writing about it, hope you guys can understand!!

╭┉┈◦ೋ•◦❥•◦my will’s

i will write about things like period cramps or injuries, as long as they’re not super severe.

i will write headcanons, blurbs, and drabbles, and fics ^-^!!