#those two wants can co exist

[potahun]

i want ppl in-detco-universe to be nice to furuya because he needs nice things. i also want people to kick him

[wazzuppy]

me wanting to get into elden ring vs seeing how absolutely fucking rancid the community is towards anyone who dares to ask for difficulty settings and accessibility options.

on that note: HERE is a link to abledgamers

[aj-moment]

So rn the US government is starting to defund the National Parks Service, and while this is a bad thing largely because it's mainly being done to open up the possibility of oil drilling in a lot of those areas, I think it also needs to be said that no the National Parks Service was not just there to "protect natural wonders" or whatever. It was there because a lot of those places are incredibly important land to a lot of Indigenous Peoples and if you give it special status that means you can't live on it you can make the natives leave easier because they get arrested if they don't. Like I am very much not in favor of this change as it is being done but I don't think we should respond to it with wholehearted praise of the National Parks System either. Please know the history of the land you live on and visit.

edit: this post was made with some noteworthy gaps in knowledge. This has already spread so to some extent the damage has been done but I do want to add on an addition someone made that I think does give some very helpful context to this. If you've already reblogged this I recommend doing so again with this addition. Credit on the comment goes to @kingsonne-zedecks

"I think that only two thirds of the conversation is being represented in this post and just wanted to ensure that people had the full picture.

Because the National Parks were absolutely used as a method for limiting, oppressing, and controlling indigenous lands ever since the US government violated multiple treaties to create Yellowstone. "Protecting" these lands meant protecting them from their historical stewards and inhabitants as well as from logging and mining companies.

Multiple parks were even created with provisions "allowing" indigenous people to continue using them for hunting, fishing, gathering, and spiritual purposes. Except that they were rapidly pushed out in the following years, while the tourists were told of the indigenous in the past tense only.

That's all absolutely true and is an important part of the history of the National Park Service that should not be forgotten or ignored.

But.

Its also not 1872 anymore. In 2015 Mt McKinley was offocially recognized and restored to the name Denali. Something that, though small in comparison to the harm that has been done, was indicative of a growing sentiment for restoring Ingigenous history. In 2021 Chuck Sams and Deb Haaland were put into office as the first Indigenous leader of the National Park Service and Secretary of the Department of the Interior respectively. By the end of 2024 we had over 250 co-stewarship agreements in place with various Indigenous Nations for management and use of these lands. Educational resources in visitors centers across the country were reworked to more accurately represent the indigenous history of the parks. Things were unequivocally moving in a positive direction.

While the History of the National Park Service as a tool of colonialization is important to recognize. The Trump Administration is not defunding that same tool. That tool does not exist today exactly as it once did.

The attack on the National Park Service of today is itself an attack on Indigenous people and an attack on progress. As blatant as the executive order to rename Denali back to McKinley."

[auroralwriting]

the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! prologue : a series of unfortunate events . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil sighs, scrunching his eyes shut, which proved to be more difficult than it appeared with the mud mask that he applied over half an hour ago still on his face, currently drier than the gluten free bread he bought last week. He melted into his couch, feeling an overwhelming sense of boredom settle into his otherwise restless body. 

Before he knew it, he found himself mindlessly scrolling through Magicam, looking through the self proclaimed critique’s 30 to 60 second reviews on his new movie or the finale of some show he was in, for a hit of dopamine. Which clearly wasn’t working, as each video was the same thing washed over and over again repeated with new synonyms bundled together to sound authentic (Which it rarely was) and of course, there was those few criticisms here and there, nothing uncommon. 

Vil lays his head back, scrolling some more, “Influencer Tartaglia joins the new soon to debut boyband, D!CKZ—”, he shuts his phone and tosses it to the side carelessly . . Did he ever mention his distaste for influencers moving into the entertainment industry? . . It makes his blood boil, just a tiny bit, since most of the influencers tend to ruin it for a lot of genuinely talented and lesser known actors out there, not to mention they’re so-called talent is usually mediocre at best. 

And he could go on and list all the reasons why influencers do not deserve a spot in the spotlight with the elite, and they may all seem reasonable at first, but it’s a cover-up for the real reason.

He feels some weird sort of envy, towards those individuals who put in zero effort and somehow make it, and get all these big protagonist roles right away, and how they aren’t criticized for their faults or terrible acting skills, just because they have a huge built fanbase of delusional fangirls ready to defend them from the get-go. 

Or how they aren’t criticized when they look less than perfect on screen, although he appreciates that current age viewers can acknowledge that it’s only human to get acne or maybe a pimple here and there, he didn’t meet the same fate when he was younger . .  It just makes him feel bitter . . and he’d never speak those feelings into existence, but deep down he does feel a bit hurt by the shift, it sometimes makes him feel like all those previous breakdowns were for naught. 

Vil snaps out of his pity party for one, getting up and stretching, going into the bathroom to wash off the mask before it dries out his skin (It probably already has), burn-out has hit him hard, and as much as his love for acting runs-deep, he’d rather take a break before his audience starts noticing his shift in acting. 

Which is why he agreed to hosting the show in the first place, he wanted to switch up his career, for awhile at least, he’s taking a break from acting but doesn’t want to directly leave the industry, because it’s difficult to fit right back in place once you leave, as there's always someone who could come and steal your position, and maybe even do better . . that’s why this industry is so hard to survive in, and as pitiful as it sounds, he’s practically married to his work, he can’t exactly risk it, in peace. 

Vil dries his face with a towel and then moves to grab his moisturizer, when his work phone rings. 

“Hello, this is Amanda from Descendants. Inc. We talked before reguardinging ‘Late nights & Flashing lights’ . ” . . . “So, due to a multitude of reasons, we’re kind of in a time crunch to get the premiere launched, by the end of this month actually . . . but, we’ve received confirmation on who’ll be co-hosting with you, Y/n L/n!” 

“ . . . excuse me?” 

“This must be such a shock, but Y/n has actually been our top pick for this role, and the internet seems to really want to see the two of you on-screen together, considering your screen presence, I honestly think you two will be a perfect match for the show.”  

“I—”, Vil’s voice was hoarse as he tried to mentally wrap around all the information that was just dropped, “Ah—That’s time, we’re so excited to see you on set next week.” . . . “If you’d like, I could send you y/n’s number beforehand, so the two of you could talk things through?”, that seems to snap him back to reality, as the professionalism seeps right back into him, “That would be lovely, thank you.” 

The doorbell rings, informing Vil that his takeout that he ordered about two hours ago had finally arrived, but he didn’t feel like eating anymore.

Drinking is completely legal at 18-19 in my country, so I'm just putting that over here before someone tries fighting with me about it (This has happened before), also Vil is currently in his late 20's.

Don't expect everything to play off of Vil in-game, since this is placed like a decade into the future, so things will be changes and messed around with to fit the current age and setting more. <3

Profiles | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or for updates)

— taglist ♡ ; @well-look-at-this , @honkai-freak , @kingnem10 , @merviolet-asks , @katzline , @pebble-bb , @meigalaxy , @lordbugs , @crowbird , @yuus3n , @azriel-sama , @reivelmin , @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 , @eliza-be-t-h , @feverish-dove , @yejiswifex , @l0v3r666 , @cece-cherries , @frootloopscos , @abell2029cluster , @ephemii , @alienlatteinspace

♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)

© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello can I request a yandere jjk x angel reader.

Geto, Gojo, Yuta, Sukuna. Thank you!!!

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional tendencies, cligniness, paranoia, sadism, abduction, isolation, violence

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

Angel s/o

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾​This is no forbidden lovestory. No tragic fairytale of two people who aren't meant to be together. No, the only emotions brooding between the two of you are those of repulsion, disgust and, on only Sukuna's side, an attraction that only fuels the hateful obsession. He is the King of Curses, you are a being of pureness and protection. The two of you are supposed to be enemies, intertwined in an eternal fight until one of you falls through the hands of the other. Those emotions though, they shouldn't be there. He should loathe you, he does loathe you. So why does he experience those sensations whenever the two of you clash? This thrill pumping through his veins goes beyond the bloodthirst and sadistic ecstasy when fighting someone, beyond the fantasies of slashing and devouring. Other feelings co-exist within those carnal desires Sukuna is so familiar with and if he would be someone lesser he would accuse you of bewitching him. Only someone weak would fall for a cheap trick that were to influence their perceptions in such unfamiliar ways, twist them into something so pathetic. You only add salt to the wound within his ego as he is the only one suffering from such a disease.

🗾​A primal part of him longs to slash you into bloody pieces so that your body and face may never tempt him again. Far too merciful would that be though, not enough for Sukuna's heart yearning for revenge. He has suffered a great humiliation because of you, feelings of love and attraction that have weakened him and his resolve. You deserve something far worse than death. He will drag you into a pit of hellfire even deeper than his, will break you and shape you until you are even more pathetic than he is. You will be punished for the seeds of feelings you have planted within him. You will be captured, kept and tamed by him until you are too tainted to return to the holy place where you originated from. He is going to enjoy ruining you and weakening your resolve, to shatter you until you have no option but to stay with him. As soon as you are in the position where he wants you to be, you will be kept as his obedient pet. Your abilities are going to be of great use for his plans after all. It's affection that keeps him still chained to you, a bond that even he will be unable to sever. You will be his. Because if you aren't, then he will burn you alongside the world you have sworn to guard over.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​His appearance and his powers have always put Gojo closer to a being closer to a deity, at least in the eyes of some people. The power that emits from you is something that even non-sorcerers can sense though they do not sense what you are. Gojo with his Six Eyes instantly discerns that you are an existence that no sorcerer has ever encountered. A messenger of an even higher being that has graced earth for purposes unknown. Gojo proceeds with a healthy mixture of caution though as he believes those in power to be rarely innocent. Being close to you is a dizzying experience, the energy you emit strong enough to evoke reverence within an average person. Even Satoru is not entirely immune to those feelings yet he isn't swayed as easily as he remains wary when around you. Every word, every gesture, every flutter of your eyelashes is something that he observes closely as he tries to figure out your purpose for your ascendence to earth and its people. He fails to inform people of highest position of your existence though as he would only dread what they would do with that information. Maybe, just maybe, there is also a part within him that wants to keep this extraordinary experience to himself.

🩵​The rapid fluttering within his chest, the warm adoration pulsing through every fiber of his being, the weightlessness he experiences whenever his gaze falls upon you. Around you Satoru feels a safety and a comfort that only someone like you could provide him with. It initially scares him, the sensation of a heaven on earth something that has never been granted to him. Soon he gives in to everything though and that is when the clinginess and paranoia start. Both of you are from different worlds entirely as his life is but a short spark in comparison to your life of eternity. It is this knowledge that he is a being chained to time that torments him greatly. He doesn't wish you to move on, to forget him as the centuries pass. It is a selfishness of the highest degree, perhaps even blasphemous in the face of a holy creature like you. Gojo is only human though, riddled with flaws and an imperfection that someone like you could never possess nor understand. It is you who triggered those feelings within, you who made him this way. If you truly are what history hails you to be then stay and save him from his solitude. Do that or watch him fall victim to his dark side where he will only accept salvation from you.

Geto Suguru

🗻​How utterly ironic of the monk to be met with an otherwordly being as yourself. Geto is not overly welcoming, at least not anymore the moment you voice your own doubts about his vision. A cast of judgement from someone like you cuts deep, so much deeper than Suguru would have ever imagined. In his mind he does what will be best for his own kind, his opinion of non-sorcerers tainted in nothing but hatred. What you try to protect is a creation that is beyond saving. Just take a look around you after all and see what the barbaric feelings of those monkey give birth to. They are the reason curses exist, they are the reasons why his kind dies in an attempt to save their ignorant lives. But for what reward? If they were to find out about the powers the sorcerers possess they would revert back to witch hunts and fear. He has seen it. There is nothing worth protecting within the non-sorcerers. But he could create a paradise like it is written down in so many ancient works across the globe, a place where the hatred and judgement wouldn't exist anymore. His own belief clashes with your own passive one yet to him never before has approval mattered as much as it did with you.

🗻​Suguru obsesses over the fact that he wants your approval for his plans. His mind is set and nothing can stop him, not even you. He will execute his plans with or without your blessing yet he cannot stop himself from obsessing over it anyways. It is an unbearable burn within his heart to know that a literal angel like you are do not agree with him. He constantly seeks you out, tries to convince you to understand his greater vision. He even takes you with him to show you the pettiness of humans, to make you see that they are beyond saving and that a future only lies within sorcerers like him and all those who have joined his cause. The silent look you always give him though always threatens to tear him apart as you gaze at him like he is a lost child who needs saving. He doesn't need that though. He has discovered the light already and yearns for you to join his cause. If he were in possession of your approval, of your love, there would be nothing in his way anymore. If you refuse though, if the threat arrives that you may disappear, Suguru will do his everything to keep you bound to his side. He is no sinner, not at all. He has seen a different salvation, one he will have you understand.

Okkotsu Yuta

💍​He should stay alerted, he should stay cautious when he approaches a being so out of this world. However, your mere presence is enough to eradicate any hostility that he could have possibly harbored for you. His whole body forcibly relaxes as if put under a spell, the grip on his katana easing. A heavy gulp that has his Adam's apple moving before he slowly steps closer to you, each step filling him more with sensations of elation and joy of the likes that he has never experienced before. Rika seems to be slightly uncomfortable within your presence though, baring her sharp teeth and hovering over Yuta as if warning you to not try anything on him. Rika's presence seems to be something that elicits a reaction out of you just as much. For one short moment he dreads that you will exorcise her, won't like her due to being a Curse. To his relief you deem her to be a creature that can do more help than damage though, sparing him the horrible scenario where he would have to defend her against someone as magnificent as you. You are beautiful, a fact that Yuta can't deny. Every time he does as much as think of you he feels those butterflies erupting within his chest.

💍​Your presence is addicting, every touch of yours electrifying bliss and your appearance radiant, transcending the beauty that he has been familiar with so far. Your figure visits him in his dreams, your voice a call he can only answer. Yuta wishes to worship you, to go down on his knees and praise you for the holy being that you are. Someone like you is too pure for this earth though, a place crawling with curses and humans. He feels this unexplainable urge to slash all those who commit evil, to rid your path of such unsightly beings so that you may only experience the good. It is a thought that grows louder each and every day, becomes hard to reign and only quietens when he is with you as if your presence cleanses him from such inpure desires. Still, the urge never disappears and manifests itself every time he catches sight of an ugly curse or a human who you should not have to witness with your magnificent eyes. His own spiral into insanity is not something he is oblivious to and it threatens to pull Yuta down with shame. How can he protect you after all when he himself has such unholy thoughts about you? You should need protection from him.

[rotthepoet]

Need theo and lorenzo head cannons 😔

Good morning sweet pookie, i gotchu!! I needed a little break after that threesome so I did some random, some silly, some fluffy, and some smutty, kay? It’s really just a big brain dump on how I characterize the boys <3 Hope you enjoy, love ;)

P.s. if I have any reoccurring anon’s, if you want me to differentiate you, please feel free to assign yourself an emoji <3 unspoken rule i thought i’d say out loud

Theodore Nott

I agree with literally everyone on this app, he is a smarty pants, but i refuse to believe he sits down and studies

It’s not that he doesn’t care about his grades, he just doesn’t have to try to get good marks. Queen absorbs information like a sponge and retains that shit forever. Doesnt have to waste time with a boring textbook because he commits everything to memory.

That being said, he will remember everything about you. Your favorite movie you mentioned in passing, he saw you eat something particular multiple times he can infer its your favorite and will buy it for you often, he knows your habits, your aspirations, your desires. All of it. Does it for his close friends and lovers <3

Huge smoker. Like. Oral fixation final boss. Needs to have something to smoke or at least chew on at all times

I mentioned before how I think Mattheo and him laugh at people who vape, but Theodore Nott is a two faced LIAR and actually keeps a menthol alto with him at all times. For convenience sake. If you ask him, it’s different because its not a fun lil fruity flavor.

Speaking of Mattheo, those two are best friends. Like ride or die. Like. These two are bread and butter, inseparable and delicious.

Will internalize everything. This is why he gets so worked up and fights people. It may seem like him getting pissy over nothing, but this boy has some unresolved trauma and unmedicated issues.

Theo has ADHD prove me wrong and fuck you for trying(jk love you, but i will die on this hill.) severe anxiety issues, def some depression going on, hes working through some shit.

Theo can process a lot of stimulus at the same time. Watching him hold 3 steady conversations while reading a novel at the same time is a sight to behold.

Smokes weed a lot too. Mostly bud, but he’s smart and keeps a cart on him too for quick bathroom breaks when he needs to chill tf out. It slows down all the thoughts racing around his head. Lets him relax. Lets him feel peace. Let him feel comfortable. He’s been searching for that feeling his whole life.

Mommy and daddy issues check?

Anyways!

Theo is a player, and its not even because he tries to be.

Girls flock towards him, and he needs an outlet.

Sex is a good outlet.

Sex and drugs? Now we’re cooking

He doesn’t care much for the dating scene, didn’t think he was cut out for it. Bad home life. No mom. Depressed and emotionally distant evil dad. Friends and his family are all death eaters? Causes some bad views on relationships as a whole.

Omg but when he falls in love it takes forever but its so hard. Its so devastatingly hard.

It goes from “wow they really make me happy” to “omfg i need to marry them they make me feel complete and comfortable and it feels like i can finally be myself around someone this is the feeling i have been searching for my whole life” really fast when he falls

He’d never love at first sight. Refuse it. He might think someone is pretty or handsome, but he won’t ever describe it as love at first sight.

100% friends to lovers

He’s a quality time kinda guy i think

Just likes co-existing really

Stay in the room with him in silence as he reads and hes so golden

But that will bump up several notches and enjoy every other love language too

He wants to make you love him. He’ll do anything for you. Buy anything for you. Tell you everyday how wonderful you are

He’s being so genuine too

His friends would know

He never shuts up about you

If you had never spoken to his friends, never met them, they’d be able to come up to you in a grocery store and say “oh. You’re <you>, right?”

And dear god he genuinely cries a little in relief when you finally say yes

He’s buried his face in your hair and hugging you so tightly and he tries not to cry because he finally has everything he needs in his arms

He’s such a good boyfriend

Will never question you(at least not at first or without good reason)

Literally worships the ground you walk on

Will apologize first immediately after every meaningless petty fight

Thats different about real fighting though. Stubborn ass bitch

Anyways

Dotes on you everyday

Calls you so many sweet names in Italian

Has an Italian accent but sometimes tries a British accent to throw everyone off.

Argues in italian

Lowkey hates snow

Runs super cold so loves lovvesss hot weather

Will take you to Italy over the summer

Demands you go

Fucks you on the balcony of his family home

Fucks you stupid on the beach

Sorry where was I going with this

Ah yes anyways

Runs super cold so like is a big fan of cuddles. Lots of sweaters for you to steal

He likes turning cuddles into more slow and intimate things

Slowly fingering you as you spoon

Cockwarming in the morning or late at night<3

So much worship.

So much

Just adores you.

Loves fast rough sex but honestly could go on about slow love making for hours

Literally cant stand American reality tv

The biggest kardashian hater

Knows all the gossip because he’s quiet and listens

Doesnt care to share it though

Lorenzo Berkshire

Bitchboy extraordinaire

If I met Lorenzo Berkshire he would become #1 on my shitlist so fast

I called theo a two faced liar as a joke

But Enzo actually is one

Literally puts on the nicest mask for pretty girls, but every ex, and every guy in hogwarts knows he’s a conniving bitch behind closed doors

One of the richest in the group and it shows

Flaunts his money everywhere he goes

His ears are pieced

Also he likes having his ears bitten it can make him hard as a rock in seconds

Dates, but it usually only lasts a month and Hes the worst boyfriend ever

Dumps them whenever he gets bored

But omg when a person gives him his attitude back

Well first he gets even meaner

But also he likes you so much like… that was hot

And if you ignore his existence? On you like a moth to a flame

Craves attention

Such an attention seeker

Still will fight, isn’t very good, but will try

100% a prefect

Showers his pookie with so much love and attention

When he finally gets the person he wants, hes on top of them 24/7

Never a hand straying to far

Literally obsessed

Big fan of exhibitionism

Will fuck uou on the train, the bathrooms, the common room, the classroom

Its all fair game

Would love to see you all tied up in pretty ribbons for his birthday

Ass man 100%

Likes to just get a fistfull while you hug or cuddle

Mattheo and him are the biggest gossipers

Has like 4k followers on instagram because hes so pretty

Father and mother are hirh death eaters. Does anyone know Berkshire lore because i def dont

Like fr can someone explain him to me

Pairs well with anyone in the grouo, really

Gets along especially with Theo or Mattheo

Amazing at card games, and says he’s amazing at chess too. Hes not.

Literally refuses to snack, says it’ll ruin his physique

On the quidditch team much like everyone else he’s friends with

Slays at herbology

Maybe a bit of a smoker? Not often, and def more weed than tobacco

Light weight for reals

Like severely light weight

He’s the laughingstock of the friend group for it

Him and Mattheo have a running bet on who can fuck the most women

Omg omg omg because they so do the alphabet challenge im so sorry but its factual

Lorenzo is currently winning with 15/26 letters in the alphabet but Mattheo isnt too far behind

Its because Lorenzo is so charming and Mattheo…. Is himself.

Anyways back to being his significant other

Will spoil you

Relentlessly

Lowkey expects head in return but that will wear ofd eventually

109% more likely to start a fwb situation than anything else

Treats you like a girlfriend this whole time

Kisses you sweetly, holds uou close when you sleep, mumbles about how special you are

Just being a girlfriend without the title because then it gets too weird

Loses his shit if you get tired of trying and break it off

Genuinely ballistic if he loses you

Will pull as many favors and as many strings as he can to get yiu back

Seriously considers murder for a while

Anyways he gets you back baby<3

Speaking of babies hes super good with kids

Look at that face

Amazing dad face

Scared of marriage lmao

Bad parents. Fucked up views on relationships

Its a thing for all of them tbh

[mellowwillowy]

Yan! Boyfriend x GN Reader

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 , NSFW

Yan! Boyfriend who you thought to be a golden retriever only to have him turn into a Doberman the moment you are away from him.

Yan! Boyfriend who is the "all 5 love language combo" for you and you only!

Act of service? Fun, especially when his head is buried into your crotch. That aside, yes he does all those sweet ass stuffs. Anything you think of, he has done it, even to the very most downbad shit you could think of.

Physical touch? PDA if you are into that, else either a hand around your thigh, squeezing them with love or shit ton of pecks.

Words of affection? 'My love looks so gorgeous as usual! What a refined beauty my love is, no wonder I can't stop falling head over heels for you!' And you were on the bed with bad hair, drooling on your pillow.

Gifting? How many gifts have you received today from him? Starting from something little to something large? The most surprising would be him coming home with a pet for you.

"Ta-daaa! You've been saying you want a pet so I think you will like this!"

Quality time? Not a problem for him. He has a lot of time for you. Hm? Work? Better not question him further about it. All that matters is that it's enough to give the two of you more than enough, even allowing the two of you to laze around. (Unlike Yan! Lawyer Husband and Yan! Antagonist who barely has any time for darling pfft-)

Yan! Boyfriend who is practically on his knees like a dog waiting for his treat when you are about to do something ✨️ r o m a n t i c a l ✨️ on him. Say who's a good boy and you could have sworn you saw his non-existent tail wagging excitedly.

"Who's a good boy hm? Who's a gooood boy??"

"Me! Blue! Blue is a good boy!"

Well, at least he is now because he wasn't when you first met him. He's changed a lot just for you, didn't want to disappoint you the next time you see him.

Yan! Boyfriend is the guy who you can really depend on for everything. Financially? Yes. Wanna beat the fuck out of someone? Call him and that person will have a taste of all the martial arts he has learned back then, not to mention he was quite the delinquent back then. Mentally? Yes. He's always there for you, either making it worse or better.

Yan! Boyfriend who likes to show you off to his friends and co-workers so much as though you are his prized possession. The hand that never leaves your waist and the dagger he shot at the people who stared at you for a bit too long are threatening enough to scare them away. Will definitely have a separate chat with them later,

"The fuck you are looking at my love for hm?"

Ignore how their nose is red and bleeding okay? If only Blue was able to do more, he would have had his fist buried into their face even more and harder like in the good ol' days. Has no choice but to be good else someone might rat to you about his behavior again.

Yan! Boyfriend who really likes to sleep on your lap, being able to feel you this close just makes him feel all giddy like a teenager in love. Would litter kisses and licks if you are not wearing anything that covers your thighs.

Yan! Boyfriend who will almost have the same taste in music as yours because he's just like that. Sucking in everything about you and ends up liking it.

Yan! Boyfriend who will vibe with you nonstop. If you are the crack type person, he will just be as crack as you, making people think whether the two of you are high in crack or not. Will always make you feel like it's okay to do anything you want without having to be embarrassed. Too shy to sing? Well, watch him scream his lungs out (Lemon and Grape chilling with ear muffs) and his hand motioning you tag along.

"BABY WON'T YOU LOOOOVEEE MEEEE"

"What do you say we gag him up with the mic?"

"Great, I'll hold him by the neck."

Yan! Boyfriend who really loves watching you sleep. No, he's not a somnophilic bastard like Yulian. He just adores seeing you resting so peacefully. (while Eleanor panicking over darling sleeping)

Yan! Boyfriend who enjoys cooking breakfast for you. You'll wake up greeted with him standing by the kitchen or sitting by the dining table waiting for you to wake up. Hm? If the food has gone cold because you woke up late, he'll just reheat it. Nothing biggie so no need to feel bad about it ^^

Yan! Boyfriend who is always keeping his mental state in check just in case it cracks open the ugly side of him again. He's embarrassed of it yet he is grateful for it because it brought the two of you to meet. Just staying next to you is enough to keep him sane so try not to stray too far from him okay? He might really snap again and the place you once called home might be nothing but ruins.

"Love you... dear."

Yan! Boyfriend who hates being away from you! If his work suddenly requires him to be somewhere away from you, he will bring you along with him! (I might make a chart of the difference for all the LIfE Pro casts)

"Almost feels like a vacation eh? Let's visit this place once I'm done with work love!"

Although he always brings you along, there are times when he'll have to leave you with Lemon or Grape, either asking them to stay with you or you stay over their place.

"Try not to dent his sport car again yeah? He was yapping at me for hours ahaha! I will ask Grape to watch over you as well, she'll do well as your nanny. Hm? Not a little kid anymore? Oh no no, better be safe than sorry. Don't want those nasty ghosts keeping you awake during the night yeah?"

Afternote:

Blue is my second favorite! Yulian has always been the first so no one sees Blue that much... he's just so sweet... although the story he shares with Eleanor tangles everything up...

[always-just-red]

Hello! Y'know that one line of Sylus talking about his muscles saying "They're not real. But they move." The way he casually admits to not being entirely human

Could I request something angsty where Sylus has an uncanny valley aura about him where you just FELL something's not right and Sylus is all :( cause he can't make the MC feel comfortable around him but it's not like he can fix it either

Just a quick little fic for this whilst I work on a longer fic! Realised like two paragraphs in that I had the opportunity to do the most evil thing ever, so I did!! 😇 I'm really proud of this one guys pls show it some love! And thanks for the prompt, anon! You are my co-conspirator in all this evilness, mwa ha ha DISCLAIMER: This work does not reflect the feelings of the author, who would die for Sylus! Wants to hold Sylus's face in her hands and tell him he is everything good and pure in this dark, cynical chess game we call life! 😎✨

Monster

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: A Deepspace Hunter's instincts never lie...

Genre: angst oh my GOSH so much angst

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, AU I guess as this is a different spin on an existing scene, *passes you some tissues* here you might need these! 🥰

| Word count: 800 | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You know monsters.

Earth-shattering. Sky-shearing. Teeth, reckless: always striving for something soft to sink into. To make a home in and to eviscerate. You’ve been grazed by it— kissed by that violence more times than you can count— and you are not soft anymore; there isn’t space for it. There are scars and then there’s armour, the kind you carry with you, the kind you couldn’t shed if you tried, and you haven’t tried, because why would you?

Horror isn’t loud and cataclysmic, it’s quiet. It’s those few seconds before your Hunter’s watch signals a fluctuation of Metaflux. A premonition, trained, or maybe just human instinct, raw and vulnerable: something is wrong, here. That prickle on your skin— the tip of that claw, raked, snaked down your spine. You feel it whenever a Wanderer lurks in the shadows, or beneath a stretch of water that’s unfathomably deep and far, far too still.

Sometimes, you feel it when you look at Sylus.

I know monsters.

Before you, a fragment of a mural tells a very old story, and beside you, a red-eyed man is thinking of flowers. It’s late, and the museum is quiet. You look at the fragment’s centre, where a female warrior is plunging a blade through a dragon’s heart. “Look,” you say, nodding at the figure with a half-smile. “My predecessor.”

Sylus hums thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

“Because that looks like a standard Tuesday to me. Some things never change, huh?”

But other things do. With a chuckle, Sylus draws closer to you. The rumble of his laughter is warm and familiar, and his hand is near yours as he bends to examine the mural. He wants you to take it, to thread your fingers through his like you do when you resonate, when you need his power and he needs yours, except neither of you need it now. Why, then?

You know. Of course you know.

The man is all softness, voice and gaze like an afternoon sun in late summer that lulls you to sleep with thick, golden light. Always trying to evoke a dream. It’s weakness, it’s the dragon on the mural with a split heart, bleeding, and you’ll never understand why Sylus wears his on his sleeve.

It’ll be the death of him, one day. It’s set in stone. Right here.

When Sylus touches you— when the tip of his finger catches yours and makes an honest, desperate request— you don’t pull away. Something inside tugs at you, warns you, tells you a monster without a sword in its chest is one that can bite. What colour of blood would your hands prefer? His? Your own?

Your veins are cold and something is wrong, but no, you don’t pull away, because Sylus knows monsters too. Some declare themselves with twisted horns, razorlike wings and a long, barbed tail. Others declare themselves with something as subtle as a touch, withdrawn.

When Sylus steps away from you, that gash of dread closes up inside you. Heals like his wounds: no mess, no scar, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

He’s had a long time to look at the mural, and he smiles wistfully at the woman at its centre. “Some things never change,” he echoes, and it sounds as though there’s blood in his lungs, his throat, and that he has to swallow it down to say anything at all. It must sting.

“All in a day’s work for a Deepspace Hunter,” you joke flatly. You’re not even sure Sylus hears it.

Both of you stare at your fragment of history: an execution, a liberation. A matter of perspective. “Maybe…” Sylus begins, but then thinks better of it.

“Maybe what?”

He’s seeing something you don’t.

“Maybe what, Sylus?”

He spares you a glance. “The pose,” he says, indicating the warrior. “It’s ambiguous. Perhaps she isn’t slaying the beast, she could be—”

“Saving it?”

You’re considering a new perspective. Tapping a finger against your cheek as you lock eyes with your history— that elusive dream— ever oblivious to what’s behind you:

There’s a look of sheer, infinite longing— a gaze that’s been empty of you for too long, so sick of starvation, and determined to have its fill in the few, fleeting moments it can. It’s ravenous: dangerous, sharp, and irrevocably yours, if you would only turn around.

There are teeth and claws, but they’re all of them tame, and that makes them soft, doesn’t it? You could trust them on your skin. Turn around.

You do, and you are not the girl from the mural who tucked wildflowers into his hair and who sung him a song he still hears in his sleep. Sylus’s heart aches.

You are the girl from the mural who’s slaying a dragon, because it’s the oldest story, the only story.

Your eyes harden.

“Who would pull out a sword to save a monster?”

[starlightkun]

❧ word count: 12.2k ❧ warnings: cursing, they go kinda skinny dipping at one point (wearing underwear) ❧ genre: fluff, a little suggestive, modern magical creatures/fantasy au, college au if you squint, summer camp au, dryad jaemin, human reader, camp counselors jaemin & reader, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: ah it feels so good to be returning to the strawberry sunday universe after so long! everyone blame thank lottie for not letting me forget abt dryad jaemin. i wasn’t sure abt posting a summer camp fic in february but it seems like the people wanted it, so i hope it warms y’all up (unless it’s actually summer for you rn, then i’m right on time 😎)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

You learned three things about Na Jaemin on your first day:

One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.

Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.

And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.

WEEK ONE

It was way too fucking hot out. From the rough directions you were given by the camp director, you were pretty sure this path led out to the river. Fuck it, you might wade out a little while you were here in order to not overheat and die. No fucking way you were going to haunt this place forever in the event you became ghost.

Despite your pessimistic thoughts as you trudged along the forest trail, you were actually very excited. Today was the first day of your month-long stint as a counselor at Camp Pineleaf. You were an education major at the university in the city, and had been recommended to the gig by one of your professors. One interview with the camp director later, and you’d been hired on the spot. You were part of the set-up crew, responsible for getting to camp early to get the camp set up and welcome the kids when they arrived. The other half of the staff were riding over from the drop-off point with the campers. So here you were, walking the perimeter to make sure all of the off-season markers had been taken down.

The camp was a small part of a nature preserve, and the rangers designated the different areas to visitors by colored markers on trails and trees. When the camp was closed in the off-season, the river that it bordered was open to visitors, so the flag markers on that border would be blue. But now that the camp was open, the blue ones should’ve all been replaced with bright orange flags. You just had to keep an eye out for any remaining blue flags, or for anything else that could be awry.

You knew you were getting closer to the river when you could hear running water, and the air around you started feeling less heavy and a lot fresher. The trail under your feet turned sandy as you finally emerged from the trees onto a shoreline by the river.

You immediately froze, though, not expecting to see somebody else at the riverside. It was a man pulling himself up out of the river onto a rocky formation. He was shirtless, his biceps, shoulders, and all other sorts of muscles flexing along with his motions. His eyes were closed as he shook his wet hair out, then pushed the damp locks back from his face with both of his hands. The sunlight made him look like he was glowing, every drop of water that ran down his body sparkling like a jewel, and you couldn’t make yourself look away.

He looked like he’d been sculpted by the gods. Which you supposed he had, or one in particular at least, you realized, as his eyes opened and settled on you as if he’d known you were there the whole time. They were the color of ferns, but shifted to a lighter mossy green under the dappling of the sunlight. Dryad. Son of Pan. Or so the legends go.

“Hi?” Despite his voice pitching up to make the greeting sound like a question, the wide, cocky smile on his face told you that he definitely knew that you’d been stood there ogling him for an embarrassing amount of time.

“Sorry!” You cringed at the sound of your own voice. “I didn’t realize there was anybody out here.”

The dryad started picking his way down the rocks towards you carefully, grabbing something off one of them as he went. A neon yellow shirt. When he finally dropped onto the ground a few feet in front of you, he gave the shirt a twist to wring out a few drops of water.

“I’m Jaemin,” he said, gripping the shirt even tighter and giving it another twist for good measure. You pretended like you didn’t notice the veins in his hands or the way his forearms tautened with the motion. He shook out the shirt to show you the logo on the front of it, a smiling evergreen tree that matched yours. “I’m also a counselor at Camp Pineleaf this year. We must’ve gone to different training sessions, huh? Anyway, I was walking the perimeter before the kids got here and I kind of—”

Jaemin stopped, a sheepish sort of look coming to his face as he ducked his head almost in embarrassment.

You looked around in confusion. “You what?”

“I fell in the river.”

“You fell in?” You stared at him. You couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or not. What kind of dryad—

“I know, what kind of dryad is falling in rivers?” He pulled the shirt on over his head, which you could now see he had cut the sleeves off of. “Aren’t we supposed to be connected to nature and all that? I still don’t know how it happened, one second I was just climbing the rocks and surveying the river, next thing I knew, I was in the river. Then you showed up.”

Clumsy dryad. That was a new one.

“I’m Y/N.” Introducing yourself was only fair since he’d already given you his name. “Seems like we’re head counselors of the Swallowtails this year, Jaemin.”

It was then that he seemed to notice the matching colors of your shirts, and his features lit up in recognition. “Hey, looks like it!”

You checked your watch. “We should be getting back, the kids are going to be arriving soon.”

“Right!”

“Besides, if I have to stay out here any longer, I’m going to pass out from heat exhaustion.” You groaned, pulling the front of your shirt off from where it had stuck to your skin, using it to fan yourself. “And there’s no way I’m dying out here and risking getting my ghost stuck in the middle of nowhere for forever instead of somewhere cool.”

Jaemin suddenly had a look of alarm on his face, and you looked around with an eyebrow raised.

“What? Something I said?”

“No, sorry, thought I heard something,” he shook his head. “It was just a vole. Lead the way.”

You hadn’t heard anything other than the usual forest sounds, but chalked it up to superior magic hearing, and started back on the trail to the main camp.

“So, why did you come out here, Y/N?”

“Same as you, walking the perimeter.”

“And… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but what are you?”

You looked at him curiously. “Can’t you tell? I’m a human.”

He blinked as if shaken from a trance. Then he offered you another heart-stopping smile. “Right, of course. Sorry about that. Must’ve hit my head when I fell in the river.”

“Must’ve…”

You learned three things about Na Jaemin on that first day:

One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.

Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.

And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.

That third one you didn’t come to understand until the after-bed bonfire that all the lead counselors were holding on the shore of the river. With all of the campers tucked in and being watched over by your high schooler junior counselors, the grown-ups were doing their own first day celebrations and icebreakers, which included one or two bottles being passed around as you got to know each other. A lot of the staff had been there for previous summers like Jaemin, but there were a few newbies like you.

It had been someone’s bright idea—Yeeun, a fairy, one of the lead counselors of the Bluejays—to do Truth or Dare to loosen everybody up, instead of like, just some more campfire songs or something. The guitar was forgotten by Jaemin’s feet in favor of this game, and you had survived your first couple rounds just on Truth—it wasn’t really your prerogative to embarrass yourself in front of your new coworkers on your first day.

It had just been Chanyeol’s turn (the Assistant Director, mind you, was even participating), and the werewolf let out a long, low burp as he held the bottle out for somebody to take. His truth had to been to admit why some counselor from last year had gotten fired—it apparently was the hottest piece of camp gossip last summer that nobody could figure out until now (it turns out the guy was drinking on the job, which you didn’t miss the irony in right now).

Jaemin took the bottle from him happily, tipping back his head to take a sip.

“You only have to drink if you don’t do your turn, Jaemin. Remember?” You nudged him with your left knee. He was not going to be a very helpful co-counselor tomorrow if he was hungover and miserable.

“I know,” he grinned.

“Alright, Jaemin, Tr—”

“Dare!” He declared, cutting off Chanyeol as the werewolf went to ask him the routine question.

Your coworkers all rubbed their chins thoughtfully. Yeri suddenly let out a dramatic gasp, as if she’d just been struck by the best idea ever.

“I dare you to pass the bottle to the prettiest girl in the circle,” she declared smugly.

“That’s it?” Jaemin arched a brow.

“She’s so wasted,” Sooyoung scoffed under her breath, but nonetheless, the siren brushed some stray hair and rose petals out of the dryad's face as she teetered in place.

“What? You want something more racy?” Chanyeol snickered. “Unfortunately, I am still kind of your boss, and while I will sanction this, I draw the line at daring anybody to do anything sexually promiscuous, alright?”

“I don’t mean like that, necessarily,” the dryad shrugged. “But it’s a bit tame, doesn’t tell you much. Why not the person that I want to kiss the most? Or, that I want to—”

“Jaemin.”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed dramatically, holding up the bottle straight out with one arm and drawing back his other to aim it around the circle like a bow and arrow.

“You better not hand me that nasty fucking thing, Na Jaemin,” Yeeun practically growled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“In your wildest dreams,” he scoffed, jutting his arm to the right at last. You turned your head that way, trying to figure out who he was handing it to. You were at the end of this log bench, and the next person in that direction was Eunseok, a gryphon and newbie like you.

“Y/N,” Jaemin pushed the bottle against your knee.

You took it and whispered, “Right, and who am I handing this to?”

“Nobody, gorgeous,” he whispered back, shooting you a wink.

Your hands were suddenly sweaty where they were wrapped around the neck of the bottle, and you could feel everybody’s eyes on you. With your gaze fixated on your lap, you coughed out a, “Oh, okay.”

“Alright, Y/N!” Chanyeol announced dramatically over the titters that had erupted around the fire. “Truth or dare?”

You took a swig of the drink to steel your nerves, trying not to think about how Jaemin’s mouth had just been on the same bottle—and everybody else’s, but that didn’t really matter to you as much in the moment. “Truth.”

Jaemin leaned in towards you, and you were suddenly wrapped in the contrasting smells of pine and roses as he dropped his voice, his mouth hovering right by your ear. “Are you—”

The sound of footsteps running up towards the campfire distracted you from whatever Jaemin was about to ask, and you whipped around to see Ningning, your junior counselor, heading right for you.

“Y/N!” She skidded to a stop on the other side of your log, clearly out of breath from the run down from the cabins to the riverbank.

“Ningning, is everything alright?” You asked the breathless witch.

“They’re crying and asking for their parents. I tried to—I can’t calm them down. I’m sorry, can you please—”

“Yeah, of course.” You put the bottle down in the sand, standing up and gesturing for the girl to lead the way back.

“You look exhausted,” Jaemin declared, setting a cup of coffee down in front of you at the dining hall the next morning.

“I am,” you sighed, rubbing the back of the little witch girl who had finally cried herself to sleep an hour before wake-up this morning. She was still passed out on your lap, and you wished you could be that dead to the world too. “Finally got this one asleep about an hour before wake-up.”

“Oof, an all-nighter,” he nodded sympathetically. “Wanted Mommy and Daddy?”

“First time outside her coven.” You took a sip of the coffee, delighted to find that he had somehow already made it to your exact preferences. “Two creams and three sugars…? How did you know?”

The dryad shrugged, “Something sweet for someone sweet, right?”

“How do you know I’m sweet?” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “I could be the biggest ass— jerk you’ve ever met.” You winced at yourself nearly forgetting the child in your lap.

“Something tells me you’re not the biggest assjerk I’ve ever met,” he snickered quietly. “You’re up against stiff competition in that department, anyway.”

“What sort of people have you met, Jaemin?”

“Curious about me, beautiful?”

“I think I’m allowed some natural curiosity about my co-lead counselor, yes.”

“Ouch, I’ve been co-lead counselor-zoned.”

“What other sort of zone were you hoping to be in?” You snorted, taking another long sip of your coffee, not expecting an actual answer to that.

“I think you have a pretty good idea, gorgeous,” he grinned. “Anyway, I’ll fix you a plate for breakfast so you don’t have to disturb your little friend.”

“Wait,” you stopped him as he went to walk away, craning your neck to try to see the buffet line. “What do they have?”

“I think I know what to get you,” he declared confidently.

Jaemin did in fact come back with all of your favorite breakfast foods loaded up on a plate, which only made you even more suspicious as you dug in. All your other campers and junior counselors were sitting at the table with you two, though, so you couldn’t interrogate him about it.

This morning, the Swallowtails were going on a nature walk, and you were more than happy to let Jaemin and his junior counselor, another dryad named Sohee, take the lead on that.

It was cool enough in the morning shade that you didn’t feel the need to throw yourself in the river this time. Ningning stayed in the middle of the group with some of the girls, and you brought up the rear, holding hands with your new best friend, Soongie. The little girl that you had consoled all night had not left your side since, nor said a word, which was honestly fine by you.

Jaemin had stopped everybody to explain something about the importance of all of nature working together, and how even all of you in this group were part of nature too—a fine message, by all means—but a little chittering in the treetops above you caught your attention, and you looked up to see some kind of light reddish-brown critter running across tree branches. Another ran after it, and you were pretty sure those weren’t squirrels, but you swear you hadn’t ever seen anything like it.

“In addition to those birds we had seen earlier, you’ll also see a lot of animals like squirrels and frogs up in the trees too.” Jaemin had apparently gone back to lecturing about the wildlife again while you were distracted. “There’s actually something special about this park, does anybody know what it is?”

Sohee raised his hand, which made you and the kids giggle as Jaemin looked at him disapprovingly.

“Not you, Sohee.” Your co-counselor shook his head. “Anybody else?”

Everybody looked around at each other, shaking their heads and giving various ‘no’s in response.

“There is actually a species of chipmunk that can only be found in this park. It likes the area around the river the most, and you’ll know you’ve seen it because it has reddish fur, and white front paws.”

You tilted your head back up at the trees, squinting your eyes as the creatures ran back out again, then paused overhead. And you swore you saw white paws.

“I think Y/N has already spotted some!” Jaemin announced, startling you.

As the kids all started crowding around you and clambering to try to get a good look at the animals, while you were looking dead at the older dryad, wondering how he knew exactly what you were looking at. He easily met your gaze, tilting his head and smiling.

After lunch, your team was in the arts and crafts cabin. There were multiple stations of different crafts set up, and you were helping Soongie with the friendship bracelets and necklaces. You hummed to yourself as you carefully selected your beads, arranging and rearranging them on table in front of you.

Soongie tugged on your sleeve, and you looked at her attentively. She held her nearly finished bracelet up, tapping the two ends together indicatively.

“Do you need it tied together?” You questioned.

She nodded.

You gingerly took the bracelet from her, tying it up and handing it back. “There you go, Soongie.”

The little witch grabbed your arm, and you let her pull the bracelet onto your wrist with only minor difficulties. She patted your hand, seeming satisfied with herself.

“Oh, is it for me?” You asked, wanting to clarify in case she only wanted you to model it or test the size for an adult back home.

She nodded again, turning back to start picking out more beads.

“Thank you,” you beamed, patting her head appreciatively.

“Miss Y/N, can you help me tie this please?” Another camper requested from further down the table.

“Of course.” You set your materials down, standing up to walk around to where he was sitting. “Here, I’ll do it with you so you can practice.”

Guiding his hands through tying the knot on his elastic string, the two of you finally got it. You gave it one last tug to make sure it was secure, then he put his bracelet on.

“Thank you!” He chirped, jumping up from his seat. “I’m gonna show Mister Jaemin!”

He darted off across the cabin to the craft table that your co-counselor was at, and you took the opportunity to walk around your table and check on the campers while you were already up. Continuing to hum quietly to yourself, you whipped around with alarm when you heard Jaemin start singing. Not just because he was singing, his voice was perfectly pleasant, a lovely tenor, actually. But because he was singing the same song that you had been humming, joining in exactly where you were. You were not loud enough for anybody at even the next table over to have heard you, much less him on the other side of the noisy cabin. Dryads didn’t have exceptionally acute hearing like some other creatures such as vampires, they were only attuned to the sounds of nature, e.g., the vole he had apparently heard by the river yesterday.

Jaemin was showing the camper you had just assisted the accompanying dance to the song. It was a song that you had learned when you were a kid at your own summer camp, which was why it had come to your mind now. A few other campers abandoned their crafts to join Jaemin in learning the dance, immensely focused.

The dryad’s eyes shifted from monitoring their footwork to you. He stopped singing to call out to you, “Do you know this one, Y/N?”

You swallowed to wet your parched throat before answering. “Y-Yeah, I learned it at camp when I was a kid.”

“Remember the dance?” He asked with a grin.

“I mean, I don’t know, it’s been so long…” As you hesitated, a chorus of insistent cries erupted around you from the campers, begging you to join in. “Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can remember.”

You walked over to the open space that Jaemin and the kids had gathered in, followed by cheers.

“From the top?” Jaemin suggested, a twinkle in his green eyes.

The next day, Jaemin sidled up to you in the buffet line at dinner. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, helping Soongie on your other side, who couldn’t quite reach some of the food options.

“I’d skip the gravy surprise if I were you.”

“I was about to tell you that,” you quipped back, depositing a heaping serving of smiley fries onto Soongie’s tray, then yours. “It looks alive and artificial at the same time somehow.”

“A modern miracle, truly.”

The both of you snickered as the line moved up. Jaemin loaded up his own helping of fries. Soongie pointed enthusiastically at the honeydew melon, and you scooped that out for her too.

“I wanted to ask…” Jaemin leaned in to murmur by your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t flinch away though, intrigued by whatever he felt the need to whisper to you in the loud mess hall. He continued in his low voice, “Will you meet me tonight? Thirty minutes after lights out?”

You inhaled, which was a mistake as you sucked down the smell of pine and roses, and the line scooted up while you were still frozen. Quickly, you nodded and choked out a quiet ‘okay’ before catching up with Soongie. Jaemin smoothly followed after you, engaging one of the counselors across the buffet from you in light-hearted conversation.

After lights-out, you laid awake, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin, listening to the hushed whispers of the girls fade into soft breathing and the occasional snore. You checked the time on your watch every two minutes, and it was only when you had five minutes left until your promised time to meet Jaemin that you realized he hadn’t told you where to meet him, and you’d been far too flustered to ask. You didn’t want to cluelessly wander the campground after dark, not only for fear of being caught by administration, but also because you didn’t know what was out at night. You were here because you were an education major, not because you were exactly a hardcore nature enthusiast.

Finally, with just a minute to go, you peeled your covers off as silently as possible, slipping your hiking boots back on. Lord knows what Jaemin had in mind. Your bed was by the entrance anyway as a safety precaution, so it was easy to get to the front door and slip out. You took your phone and the cabin pass with you from next to the door, just in case. Your phone, so that people could still get in contact with you, and the cabin pass so if Ningning woke up in the middle night and saw you were gone, she would think you were using the bathroom or something.

Outside your cabin, you didn’t immediately see Jaemin. You decided that if you didn’t find him in five minutes, you’d head back. Whatever this was, was not worth losing your job, or your girls’ safety, or yours, for that matter. You’d hardly turned away from the girls’ cabins towards the center of camp when you saw him strolling down the walkways from the direction of the boys’ cabins. Speak of the dryad.

Halting your search, you waited for him to approach you instead. He was wearing what looked to be his pajamas as well, sweatpants and a tank top, and his slides smacked against his heels with every step.

Jaemin stopped in front of you, not bothering to hide that he was eyeing you from head to toe. He had that same easy-going smile as always as he assessed, “Hiking boots and pjs. Cute.”

You suddenly felt too exposed in your sleep shorts. “Oh, shut it.”

“I meant it. You’re cute.” He was leaning down to peer at your shirt closely now. “It’s dark, I can’t see—Who’s on your shirt?”

“My eyes are up here, you know,” you jested, crossing your arms.

“Ooh, a bit hypocritical, hm?”

“I was startled—”

“Yeah, when I’m startled, I also make a cartoon ‘awooga’ sound—”

“Oh shut—!” You smacked his arm, not intending for the sound to echo so loudly in the quiet area. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you rushed to cover your mouth with two hands, hushing your gasp.

Jaemin, meanwhile, was grabbing the area you’d hit while he keeled over, his whole body shaking with silent laughter.

When administration hadn’t come swooping in after a few beats, you shook your head at the still-laughing figure of Na Jaemin. Pivoting around on your heel, you had the full intention of heading back to your cabin. Just a step away, and his hand shot out to grab yours. It was a light grip, you could shake him off and leave if you wanted, but you stopped anyway.

Still with your back turned, you waited for him to catch his breath and say something.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still with a hint of a smirk in his voice. “Can I still show you something?”

Unfortunately, your interest was piqued. You turned around, narrowing your eyes at him—he was smirking. “Show me what?”

Whatever Jaemin wanted to show you, it was deep in the forest, on a trail that was closed off from camp. Now you were glad that you’d worn your hiking boots, despite his earlier teases. The trail clearly hadn’t been used in a few years, overgrown with plants so it only fit one person across. You kept your eyes on your feet, you didn’t want to risk tripping and injuring yourself and having to make up some story about how you sprained your ankle using the bathroom in the middle of the night. Embarrassing.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked plainly.

Jaemin looked at you over his shoulder, teasing glint in his eye. “I’m a dryad, not a siren, Y/N.”

“We’re also not by water, so I didn’t think you were going to drown me,” you snorted.

“We’re almost there,” he said simply. “I think.”

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do, I’m a dryad—”

“Thank you for reminding me, I almost forgot in the last twenty seconds.”

“—therefore, I have an intuitive connection to nature, okay? So I know it’s going to be right through these trees.”

You gave him a doubtful look, but stayed silent. He gestured ahead, and you watched as leaves and branches seemingly parted on their own, welcoming you through. You followed Jaemin under the passage that he’d made, the foliage closing up again behind you. You’d entered into a clearing illuminated by nothing but the stars. It was a new moon, but you found that you didn’t really need its light, as the stars shone brilliantly on a night this clear. The clearing was carpeted with soft clover and patches of wildflowers of all shapes and sizes.

“This used to be the archery range, when I was a camper,” Jaemin explained. “They moved it as the camp got bigger.”

“You came here when you were a kid?”

“Yep.” He picked a spot and sat down. “Chanyeol used to be junior counselor of my cabin.”

You smiled faintly as you sat in front of him. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He started picking clovers from the bottom of the stem, close to the ground. “You ever made a clover crown?”

“No.”

“I’ll show you how.”

As he walked you through the steps of weaving together a clover crown, you tried your best to follow along, but yours still ended up a weedy mess, falling apart in your hands. You sighed, letting the greenery drop through your fingers and back to the dirt.

“Here, use mine,” Jaemin offered patiently. “Sometimes starting is the hardest part.”

“No, Jaemin, it’s so pretty, I don’t want to mess it up,” you insisted.

“I’ve probably made thousands of clover crowns,” he reassured you, moving around to lower his hands over yours. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

You let out a deep breath, taking the partially-woven clovers from him. Jaemin stayed there just to guide you through the first few uncertain crossings of stems, then he sat down again next to you, gathering more materials to start another crown.

Keeping your eyes trained on your shaky fingers, you said, “I don’t get you, Na Jaemin.”

“Well you hardly know me,” he pointed out humorously. “But I feel like I’ve been straightforward with you. Is there anything specific you think is so mysterious about me?”

“That’s the problem.” You bit your cheek and paused as you focused on the clover crown for a second. Then, you continued, “You’re so upfront I feel like you’re hiding something. Like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What? Because I’m being honest, that must mean I’m dishonest?”

“Yes, because people don’t just act like this, Jaemin!”

“Like what? Like they’re actually interested in somebody they want to know better?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide. “This can’t just be a human thing—Are you like, okay, Y/N?”

You felt tears welling up at the corner of your eyes, and once again dropped the clover crown to wipe at them. “Fuck—I guess not. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m sorry too. We’re barely more than strangers, I let myself get caught up and I was pushy. I’ll take you back.”

The dryad stood up and offered you two hands to get up. Hanging from one of his elbows, you saw a completed clover crown. Curious, you pointed to it. “Can I see…?”

Jaemin obliged, shaking it from his elbow to his hand and offering it out to you. Still sitting in the same spot, you turned the crown around, admiring his delicate handiwork. It was more intricate than the version he had been showing you how to make, wildflowers woven together to make hearts or stars and then integrated into the design, and he’d finished it so quickly too.

You held the crown out for him to take back. “I still haven’t made a clover crown… If you want to stay.”

He brightened up. “Third time’s the charm.”

When your alarm woke you up in the morning, you were at least more well-rested than the first night, but not by much. Groaning and sitting up, you rubbed your eyes before opening them, eyes blearily trained on the floor. The first thing you saw was your hiking boots, your completed clover crown resting atop them. It ended up taking four tries for you to finally finish one, and it was messy and at risk of falling apart any second, but you were proud of it nevertheless. A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you remembered when you had finally closed it off per Jaemin’s instructions, and smacked his arm with excitement, too afraid of even breathing. Instead of being offended at you hitting him again, he was as elated as you, somehow finding a million things to compliment about your ugly little clover crown.

WEEK 2

After your cabin’s wake-up routine this morning, you were back in the cafeteria. You didn’t bother looking for Jaemin, feeling pretty confident that the dryad would find you on his own. Sure enough, just a few minutes after you and Soongie had sat down, your co-counselor was standing at the end of your table, gesturing to the empty seat across from you.

“May I?” He asked.

“All yours,” you replied, cutting up Soongie’s pancake for her.

“We’re doing canoeing with the Bluejays this morning,” Jaemin reviewed your itinerary for the day.

A small hand grabbed your arm, and you looked over to see your little witch practically vibrating in her seat.

“Soongie’s excited,” you chuckled. “And then it’s free swim until lunch.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, finger following the schedule on his clipboard. “Then it’s us and the Barn Owls for free time until two-thirty. Then we’re going to archery also with the Barn Owls and the Tree Frogs, and tie dye before dinner. Oh, and a campfire after dinner tonight.”

“Will—”

“There will be s’mores at the campfire,” he said knowingly.

You smiled. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“You know, Soongie, you could help a little bit, sweet,” you chastised the girl fondly, being the only one actually paddling between the two of you.

The camper was sat ahead of you in your canoe, her paddle long forgotten on the floor as she looked around her in delighted wonder. You were far too endeared by her to really be upset, which she obviously knew, as she did nothing to assist. There was a small splish on the surface of the water to the left of the canoe, and Soongie gasped, immediately scooting to that side of her seat.

“Woah!” You grabbed the sides as the small canoe rocked with the shift in weight. “Careful, Soongie. I know you’re not very big, but remember what Miss Yujin said, we don’t want to—”

As you were talking, the little witch had been leaning further and further over the side of the canoe to try to get a better look at whatever had caught her attention before. Right as you had grabbed the back of her life jacket with the intention of scooting her back into the middle of her seat yourself, the canoe flipped entirely, sending the both of you into the water. You two popped up immediately thanks to your life jackets, underneath the shell of the overturned canoe.

Turning the girl around in your arms, you checked on her, “Are you okay, Soongie?”

She regarded you with wide, terrified eyes as she nodded hurriedly.

“Good, good. I’m not mad, sweet,” you reassured her, hugging her close. “It’s okay, now we know not to do that next time, right?”

She nodded again, slower this time.

Pulling away, you asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t get hit by the canoe or anything?”

Another nod, more certain.

“Good, alright.” You let out a deep breath, looking around at the canoe over your heads. “Now, I need you to—”

A loud knocking on the outside of the canoe cut you off, and you let out a scream in surprise. The next second, a third person had joined you two under the canoe, surfacing behind you.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, wiping water out of his eyes.

“Other than the heart attack you just gave me and the canoe on top of us?” You scoffed. “Yeah, peachy, Jaemin.”

“You weren’t coming up, I was getting worried,” he frowned.

“We’re okay,” you said more sincerely this time. “Promise.”

“Okay, good.” He then pointed to his right. “You and Soongie go out and swim over there. I’ll flip the canoe back over the other way for you. Swim a good distance away, just in case.”

“Alright, thanks, Jaemin,” you smiled, patting his cheek fondly. Turning back to Soongie, you said, “I need you to close your eyes and hold your breath while we go underwater so we can get out. Can you do that for me, sweet?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathed in deep, and plugged her nose.

“I knew you could. Let’s go.” You grabbed her by the head, pushing her under at the same time you went down too. You kept your hand on top of her head both to keep her down against the buoyancy of her life vest and to act as a bumper in case she accidentally bonked the canoe on her way out.

Once you had surfaced, you pulled her with you as you paddled away from the canoe a fair distance. Scattered in the water around you were the oars and your shoes. You knew your sunglasses were long gone, lost to the bottom of the lake. A few seconds later, you saw one of Jaemin’s hands wrap around the edge of the canoe, then he slowly lifted the side facing you, breaking the seal with the water, before he heaved the canoe to his left, successfully flipping it rightside up. You heard distant cheers and applause from the dock, and looked over to see other campers standing there, bundled up in their own little life vests.

Swimming back over to Jaemin and the canoe with Soongie, you two also gave him a small round of applause above the surface of the water.

“Our hero,” you jested.

He grinned, holding onto the end of the canoe to keep it from floating away. “Well…”

“Y/N in first, that way you can help Soongie get in,” he explained.

“Okay, you wait here with Mister Jaemin for me,” you requested, passing her off to the dryad.

“Can you hold onto my shoulders Soongie?” He moved her around to his back, then made an exaggerated choking sound. “My shoulders, not my neck!”

Soongie giggled and changed the placement of her arms.

“Oh, thank Pan,” he breathed out in relief. “Alright, Y/N, up you go.”

You hauled yourself back into the canoe, then worked with Jaemin to hoist Soongie in as well. Finally, Jaemin pulled himself in too, shaking out his wet hair like a dog.

“Ah!” He sighed, pushing his hair back from his face, annoyingly handsome grin once again landing on you. “Well that was a successful rescue mission, huh?”

“Hate to burst your bubble, Jaemin, but uh, we don’t—”

“Have oars?” He finished your sentence, still grinning.

“Mhm.” You looked down into your empty, soaking wet canoe, then at the distant dock pointedly.

“Not a problem!” A vine shot out of Jaemin’s palm, splitting into two, each end grabbing a wayward oar and pulling them back up into the boat. He offered one out to you to take, and secured the other in his hand.

Soongie giggled and clapped, to which Jaemin bowed. “Ah, thank you, thank you.”

After free swim and free time, everyone had time to head back to their cabins and shower before going to archery. You only had a second to rinse the lake water off of you before changing and corralling your campers to archery.

The new archery range was bigger than the old one that Jaemin had taken you to, able to fit more targets than you were sure the other one could. As the two instructors began teaching the kids, the counselors hung back to make sure everyone was paying attention and served more as support during the lesson. God knew you had no clue how to shoot a bow and arrow.

“You know how to do this?” You murmured to Jaemin as you watched the instructor notch her first arrow.

“May have won a few ribbons back in my days as a camper,” he jokingly bragged. “Want a private lesson?”

You elbowed him lightly and shook your head, even as your heart skipped a beat. The instructor let her arrow fly then, easily hitting the bullseye. You clapped along with the campers, snickering, “I think maybe I should ask her instead.”

Whoever put tie-dye after free time was the bane of your existence, as there was no time for the girls to properly wash up before dinner. If tie-dye had been before free time, then they could’ve done it before showering. You and Ningning had your hands full helping them scrub dye off their hands, and your entire cabin ended up being late to dinner. Stomping into the mess hall with a gaggle of starving girls, you hurried them ahead of you towards the food line, wincing when you saw a few options empty or nearly empty already. Soongie hung back with you as always, joining you last in the line.

You made your two plates, and struggled to find empty seats in the packed mess hall. Thankfully, a hand shot up among the throng, waving you all over. Jaemin stood up so you could see him better, and you called for your girls, who were all looking around rather lost, to follow you over there. The dryad was instructing his campers to scoot around and make room, and finally, with some squeezing, everyone was able to fit. Jaemin let you scoot onto the bench seat ahead of him, and you still had to eat with Soongie on your lap and one of Jaemin’s legs sticking out into the aisle. His other leg was pressed against you, elbow bumping into yours as the two of you ate.

You tried not to glare at some of the other cabins who had made no attempts to accommodate you all, empty seats and plenty of room at their tables, some of the adults even propping up and spreading their legs out on the benches as they ate and chatted with each other.

“Just leave it, Y/N,” Jaemin murmured, nudging you with his arm. “Good example.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, thanks, Jaem.”

“Hard time washing out the tie dye?”

“Yeah. How’d you guys clean the dye off so fast?”

“Who says we cleaned the dye off?”

That made you look up from your food for the first time, carefully studying the hands and arms of the boy Swallowtail campers around you, seeing that they were in fact, splotched with every color of the rainbow. You burst into laughter, covering your face with your hand. “God—Is that going to come out before pick-up?”

“Yeah, a couple more dips in the lake, it’ll all be gone.”

“Work smarter, not harder, huh?”

Jaemin grinned. “Exactly.”

At the campfire, you helped your younger campers roast their marshmallows for their s’mores safely, while Jaemin and Chanyeol led the entire camp in sing-alongs. In a lull with your campers preoccupied with eating their s’mores, you quickly prepared one and brought it up towards the front. Chanyeol was tuning his guitar while he and Jaemin discussed which song to do next, and you tapped the dryad’s shoulder as you lowered the paper plate into his line of sight.

Jaemin looked up at you beaming, accepting the s’more. “Thanks, beautiful. How’d you know I wanted one?”

“I’m a mind reader,” you replied humorously, mussing up his hair before you headed back towards the Swallowtails’ benches.

“Ask her! Ask her!” Came excited, hushed whispers from behind you as you had just returned to your seat among all your campers.

Turning around, you spotted a gaggle of both girls and boys gathered behind you, and raised your eyebrow at them inquisitively. “Ask me what?”

“Miss Y/N?” One brave girl finally piped up. “Are you and Mister Jaemin boyfriend-girlfriend?”

You covered your mouth to not laugh directly at them, instead tilting your head at them curiously. “Why do you think that?”

“You just made him a s’more!” One said.

“And he rescued you and Soongie today!” Another added.

“And he always calls you beautiful and stuff!” Said another. “That’s what my dad calls my mom.”

“You can tell your friends that they’re beautiful,” you informed them dutifully. “I tell you girls that you’re beautiful, don’t I?”

They all looked at each other, obviously conflicted.

“You should always help somebody in need if you can, like Mister Jaemin did today when Soongie and I were canoeing,” you continued. “And how many s’mores have I made for all of you?”

They began murmuring among themselves at your very good points while you tried very hard to control your face. Technically, you and Jaemin weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. You were… something. And these children didn’t need to know all the (sparse) details of the nature of your relationship with Jaemin anyway.

Chanyeol had started strumming his guitar again, drawing everyone’s attention as the next song began.

WEEK 3

All outdoor activities had been canceled today because a huge storm had rolled in overnight. Rain pounded against the roof of the meeting center as lighting flashed and thunder boomed outside. The Swallowtails and Tree Frogs were in here for the first block of the day watching movies on a projector. The movie was occupying some of the kids while others quietly played cards in a corner, others napped, and the counselors hung out in the back of the room.

“You okay, Jaem?” You asked the dryad, bumping his shoulder with yours. “You’ve been… off since breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassured you, shifting his gaze from the dark grey skies outside over to you. His eyes were a deep forest green, so murky they almost blended in with his pupils. He tried to offer you a half-smile as he nudged your arm back. “It’s the weather. Dryads are sensitive to it. Mother Nature gets bummed out, so do we.”

You looked over at Sohee, noticing that the younger dryad was also less upbeat than usual, leaning against the wall and zoning out as he listened to the junior counselor from the Tree Frogs go on about something.

“I like the rain,” you tried to offer some positivity. “Good napping weather.”

Jaemin chuckled. “I’ve never been able to sleep well when the weather’s like this, but now that you mention it…”

“Big fuzzy blanket or two, the sound of the rain, oh it’s perfect.”

“Mm, I might be able to get on board with this.”

“I’m just afraid the kids aren’t going to be able to sleep tonight if they can’t get their energy out,” you sighed, already able to picture them bouncing off the walls come lights-out.

“Yeah, we’ll have to make them run laps in the gym after lunch so they’re not bouncing off the walls when it’s lights-out.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“Speaking of lights-out…” He leaned in closer, resting his hand behind you and letting the smell of pine and roses entirely wrap around you. His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear as he requested, “If the rain lets up by then, will you meet me again? After lights-out?”

You turned your head to whisper back, “To do what?”

“It’s a surprise. Is that a yes?”

You hummed, pretending to think it over. Finally, you answered, “Yes.”

In the middle of dinner, the rain finally stopped, and you pretended not to react, even as the entire cafeteria erupted into cheers. Jaemin tapped your foot under the table with his. You kicked his back as you lifted your smiley fry to your mouth.

After putting your girls to bed, you once again waited thirty minutes before putting your hiking boots on and slipping out of your cabin. Jaemin was exactly where you had found him last time, blinding grin visible even this late at night. He had a couple towels tossed over his shoulder, but was otherwise in the exact same clothes as last time.

“So where are we headed?” You asked, looping your arm with his.

“Somewhere special,” he replied vaguely. “The rain should’ve made it perfect.”

You squinted at him, but didn’t press for more information. As soon as he turned off the main path, you realized he was heading towards the river but taking an unfamiliar route along it. He was heading towards a part that the camp didn’t use in their regular activities. You heard the rushing water before you spotted it, and when you emerged from the treeline, you could see a waterfall. Not huge, but without the extra rainfall from today, this area probably wouldn’t have been more than a trickle.

“Perfect,” Jaemin declared, stopping by a rock further from the water’s edge. This one was dry, safe from the spray of the waterfall. He set the towels down before toeing his shoes off, and you already knew what he was going to do.

“Isn’t it going to be cold?” You asked knowingly, despite taking your boots off too.

“Probably.” He pulled his tank top off before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re behind.”

“You’re pushy,” you teased back, yanking off your socks.

“Undress how you want, my apologies.” He put his palms together and bowed ninety degrees, making you giggle at the juxtaposition of the formal gesture while he was in nothing except his briefs.

Your shorts joined the pile too, but you left your sleep shirt on since you had nothing else on under it. Jaemin was already at the river’s edge, his back to you as he stood in the water up to his ankles.

“Is it cold?” You slowly picked your way closer to the water.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” He answered with a question.

“Try.”

“It’s like a hot tub.”

You clicked your tongue, “Nope, didn’t believe you for a second.”

“Can I look?” He still hadn’t turned around, even as you were just a couple steps behind him.

“No, Jaem, I want you to swim with your eyes closed all night.”

“I’d do it if you asked,” he jested back in a slightly sing-songy voice.

“I know you would.” You hugged your arms as you shook your head fondly. “You can turn around. With your eyes open.”

Jaemin turned around with his eyes squeezed shut first, then squinted them open one at a time, a soft grin spreading across his lips as his gaze didn’t trail anywhere other than your face. He offered his hand out, and you set yours atop it. Slowly, he pulled you towards him, and you braced yourself as you took the first step into the cold water. You let out an instinctive shiver at the chill zipping up through you.

“Hot tub, yeah,” you scoffed.

“It slopes down from here.” Jaemin started wading out in front of you, keeping his loose grip on your hand. You followed him, keeping an eye on how fast the water was rising up his legs to estimate the depth for yourself.

When the water was about waist-deep, you hissed at the temperature, squeezing his hand tighter. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand as he started guiding you towards the waterfall. “Come on.”

In the back of your mind, you wondered if you were going to get sick from this.

“If you catch a cold, I’ll nurse you back to health.”

“If you get sick, I’ll laugh,” you mimicked the way he cooed at you sweetly.

Jaemin stopped the two of you a little ways away from the bottom of the waterfall. He let go of your hand before walking forward, pausing right under where the water was pouring down, thoroughly drenching him. He let out a whoop presumably at the burst of cold. Poking his head out, he wiped the water from his eyes and looked at you expectantly. You sighed but went to join him, grabbing your shoulders tightly and gritting your teeth against the rush of cold water soaking the rest of you. A mix between a yelp and a laugh escaped you instinctively, and you heard Jaemin laughing past the sounds of crashing water. Admittedly, the chill served as a shock to your nervous system, thoroughly waking you up and making every inch of your skin tingle.

You ducked out of the waterfall, under the overhang of rock, wiping water off your face as you giggled. “Ah! Cold! Fucking cold!”

“It’s refreshing, right?” Jaemin asked with a grin.

“Kinda, yeah,” you admitted, putting your shoulders back under the waterfall. You held your arms out. “C’mere.”

He obliged, shuffling closer to you and letting you wrap your arms around his neck. As soon as you felt how warm his skin was, you pulled him even closer.

“You’re warm!” You gasped.

“I’m a dryad, gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering the two of you in the water. His hands landed on your knees, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and cling onto him even more. “Always the perfect temperature.”

“You’re really proud to be a dryad, hm?” You questioned, not a hint of sarcasm or taunting in your voice this time.

“Of course. I love everything about it, never wanted to be anything else. Sure, other things are more powerful, and plenty of dryads hate being sensitive to the weather, but I love it all.”

“Can you understand animals?” You knew that not all dryads could talk to animals, and those who could, would usually only be able to talk to a certain kind (birds, fish, reptiles, etc.).

“Small to medium land mammals. Anything bigger than a dog is usually a no-go.”

“What about a really big dog? Like a Great Dane? Or a Newfoundland?”

“Haven’t tried. When I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Do you have a favorite animal? Or is that like picking a favorite kid?”

He chuckled, and you could feel it against you. “I like cats.”

“Me too.”

After a beat, he asked, “Can I tell you something?”

“Can I stop you?”

“The first day of camp—”

“—when you fell in the river—”

“—when I fell in the river… I didn’t really fall in.”

You pulled back to be able to look him in the eye, nose scrunching up in confusion. “What? So you just… went swimming in your clothes for fun?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I was walking the perimeter, like I told you, and then suddenly I got this really strong urge to just jump in,” he explained. “One second, I was perfectly fine, enjoying the Sun, and then I thought to myself: ‘It’s too goddamn hot and if I overheat and die there is no way I’m going to let myself end up haunting this place for eternity.’ And the river was right there so I jumped in and cooled off. And then when you showed up, I figured it was better to look clumsy than like… well whatever that was.”

Dread had settled deep in the pit of your stomach, and your jaw dropped with mortification. “Jaemin, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m the one who made you jump in the river,” you confessed, pushing on his chest to get him to let you go and stand on your own again.

“What?” He tilted his head, obviously confused and caught between trying to decide if you were joking or serious, half a smile on his lips.

You turned away from him, covering your face in horror as everything suddenly dawned on you at once—way too late, you should’ve fucking known, it was so fucking obvious. “Not on purpose. God—”

Jaemin was surprisingly calm as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“You know how we’re like… scarily in sync sometimes? Like it’s almost like you can read my thoughts?”

He grinned and chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “So you noticed, too? I mean—”

“It’s not great chemistry or anything. I’m literally accidentally putting my thoughts in your head,” you interrupted him, desperately trying to get across how seriously bad this whole thing was.

The cocky smirk dropped right off his face, and he turned curious and skeptical instead. “Wait, really? How?”

“My great-aunt called it something one time. A savvy,” you snapped your fingers as the word popped into your head. “Said that’s what they used to be called before all this modern-day science took over magic instead.”

“Savvy,” he repeated uncertainly.

“Yeah. Humans that could talk to plants and make them grow faster like dryads, or fly but just a couple inches off the ground, things like that,” you listed off a couple examples. “Her theory was that with integration, people didn’t find their savvies anymore because they were around all this extraordinary magic, there was no reason for their little pockets of it to ever make an appearance.”

“What’s your theory?”

“Kind of similar. I think the people with them might notice it, but we see all this incredible stuff every day, so if your plants are growing extra fast—hey, that was probably just the magical fertilizer you bought at the store, why would it be the fact that you were singing to your succulent? Magic is so ingrained into the fabric of our lives from outside sources, I don’t think we’d ever stop to notice if it ever started coming from inside us.”

“That’s so…”

“Sad? That humans would never stop to think that we had magic in us too?” You chuckled cynically.

Jaemin shook his head, brow furrowed as he obviously both deep in thought and deeply perturbed. “I was going to say, hard to imagine. I can’t imagine what it feels like not having magic in you.”

“You’re made of magic. I’m not.”

“Well that’s not true. You’ve got something. You’ve got a… savvy.” Jaemin smiled and pointed smugly. “It’s what confused me the first time we met.”

“Right.”

“So how did you find out?”

“According to my parents, I didn’t talk until I was almost four. I didn’t need to, they just somehow always knew what I wanted. Used to chalk it up to good body language. But the way that people always finished my thoughts before I did, and didn’t even realize they were doing it. I hated that. It felt like they were in my head.” You clutched your arms self-soothingly at the memories. “Until I got a little older and realized that actually, I was in their heads.”

“Do you know why? Why you?”

“We’re all human, my family, as far back as we can tell. Unless someone had an affair somewhere that we don’t know about but—” You shrugged. “I’m just a human, who can think and feel really hard, and things happen. And because someone said so, that’s magic. But if I lived with a bunch of humans—and not my great-aunt—I probably would’ve gone my whole life just believing that I was really good at conveying my thoughts. Or really shit at hiding them.”

“So you can… what, exactly?”

You knew what he was asking—magic powers all had names. So what was yours?

“I don’t know, project my thoughts? Still don’t have a good name for it,” you admitted with a dejected shrug. “I don’t do it on purpose, it just kind of happens. I can never choose which ones, or who gets them, I’ve just kind of figured that that it tends to happen with ones I’m more focused on. But not always.”

“So it wasn’t great chemistry, huh?” He joked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah, sorry, Jaemin,” you said sheepishly, then tacked on, “But I can tell you, I’ve never had someone so… receptive to my thoughts before. Like, no one person has ever gotten so many in such a short amount of time. I don’t know why, or what it means, or if it even means anything. And I do feel the need to apologize, I imagine it’s clearly been… invasive.”

“For one, don’t apologize. You said you’re not doing it on purpose, and I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, always worrying about which of your thoughts someone is going to get, who’s going to get it, and if they’ll know it was you. Don’t also worry about apologizing to me just because I listen a little better than other people. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for eavesdropping.”

“You don’t need to—”

“Now you know how you sounded,” he replied pointedly.

“Damn.”

“Anyway, I think I know exactly why I’m more… receptive.”

You eyed him curiously. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m a dryad,” he reminded you for probably the hundredth time since you met him. “We’re in touch with nature, which includes humans, and their thoughts and feelings.”

“So it’s not our great chemistry?” You trepidly quipped.

“So you agree!” He lit up. “We do have great chemistry! Aside from the magical thought-sharing?”

“I think it’s including that?” You fidgeted with your fingernails. “Because despite everything I just told you, you’re not running away. Even though I literally made you jump in a river the first time we met. Or, before we ever met.”

“I think I’m starting to get better at telling what’s your idea and what’s mine,” he said confidently. “And you’re also not running away, despite the fact that you know that your thoughts are even more available to me than other people.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I trust you with them. You’re the first person that I’ve told who’s… really thought of it like that. That you’re listening in, instead of me forcing something into your brain.”

“Thank you. I’m honored.”

“So uhm, while we’re talking about the first day of camp… What were you going to ask me? At Truth or Dare?”

“Still thinking about that, gorgeous?”

“Apparently. Do you remember?”

“‘Are you thinking about kissing me, too?’” He stepped closer to you again. “Though, I think I know the answer now.”

You nodded, eyes glued to where a droplet of water raced from his hair down his forehead, over his browbone, his nose, and finally between his cupid’s bow into his parted lips.

“I know I can literally hear you thinking about what my lips feel like, and exactly where you want my hands on you…” One of said hands had caught the hem of your shirt floating in the water, gently tugging it back and forth. Jaemin leaned in closer, warm breath washing over your cheek as he held eye contact with his request, “But can I also hear you say it out loud? Just once, gorgeous?”

You immediately folded, grabbing his forearms as you pleaded, “Jaem, please. I want you to kiss me, I want you to—”

“I know, beautiful, I know,” he hushed you gently, cupping your cheek and sealing his mouth over yours. His other hand let go of your shirt hem to wrap around your waist and pull you closer. Your fingernails dug into the muscles of his forearm as you pressed against him, chasing more contact in any way possible. He alternated soft bites to your bottom lip and deep kisses that left you dizzy. The cold water didn’t even register anymore as you fell more and more into Na Jaemin.

Jaemin finally drew back, leaving you with a peck on the tip of your nose. He was still looking at you with an absolutely blindingly soft smile, cradling your face with two hands. You grabbed his cheeks, kissing his nose too.

“It’s only fair,” he snickered.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” you replied humorously, pushing your forehead against his.

The sky was a beautiful crystal clear blue the next morning, and you noticed the change in Jaemin’s mood before you even got to the mess hall for breakfast. Your cabins converged on the walkway there, and you spotted Jaemin at the front of his boys, giving one a piggy-back ride as four more chased them around the rest. Sohee was actually leading the gaggle of campers, laughing and joking along with the older dryad. Without you even calling out to him, Jaemin gently dropped his camper back to the ground before turning around and giving your group a big wave.

“Morning, girls!” He grinned.

“Morning, Mister Jaemin!” They said back in a loud chorus.

You just so happened to glance down to make sure you weren’t going to step on one of the kids’ heels when you noticed that Soongie’s sneaker was untied.

“Oh, hold on, sweet. Your shoelace.” You tugged on her hand to take her to the side, out of the crowd. Kneeling down, you dutifully double-knotted it. “There. Let’s go.”

You’d just started walking and brushing the dirt off your knee when your foot got jerked back by your own shoelace which had come untied and was subsequently caught under someone’s foot. Before your face or hands could impact with the concrete, however, something sturdy wrapped around your waist and caught you. You realized it was a thick, leafy vine at the same time that two hands grabbed your arms to stand you back up, and the vine unwound from around you.

“Woah, you alright?” It was Jaemin, of course, already checking your hands and arms over for injuries.

“Yeah, Jaem, I’m fine,” you smiled as he fidgeted with your beaded bracelet from Soongie. “Tied Soongie’s shoe and completely missed the fact that mine was untied too. Thanks for the save.”

He dutifully dropped to one knee to tie your shoe for you, and you wanted to be embarrassed at being treated like a child, but really, all you could think about was pulling him back up when he was done and kissing him.

“Not here, beautiful,” he grinned and winked at you.

You rolled your eyes and pushed his head away from you, but you knew it was all negated by your fond smile and thoughts.

WEEK 4

The Swallowtails were back in the arts and crafts cabin, and you were hard at work at the friendship bracelet station. You may have sucked at making clover crowns, but you weren’t half-bad at this, at least. Searching through the piles of beads, you secured a few more green and brown ones, as well as some in the shape of white daisies to add.

Jaemin was at the bead table too, and you pretended not to be interested in what he was making, even as he had not-very-quietly whispered to one of your girls sitting next to him asking if she knew what your favorite color was. The camper had told him with a giggle, some of the other campers pitching in with their opinions on whatever he was making throughout it. You acted like you hadn’t heard anything, looking up from your own craft only to survey the cabin or when someone called your name asking for help.

You’d just secured the clasp on the necklace you had been working on when a throat was cleared across from you. Looking up, you raised your eyebrows at Jaemin curiously. “Yes…?”

His project had disappeared from in front of him, but one of his hands was behind his back, so you had a suspicion as to where it went. The dryad held his other hand out palm-up on the table between you two. “May I?”

You put out your arm that already had your friendship bracelet from Soongie on it, and he grasped it gently. “Close your eyes?” He requested.

Amused, you did so, feeling when he slipped another bracelet on your wrist. You peeked one eye open, immediately spotting the bracelet that was comprised mostly of beads of your favorite color. You grinned, spinning it around to admire it.

“It’s perfect. Thanks, Jaem,” you said. Picking up the necklace, you declared, “Your turn.”

Standing up, you walked around to stand behind him, fastening the clasp at the back of his neck for him. “There you go.”

It was a shorter necklace, resting right at his collarbones, so he had to use his phone camera to look at it. His fingertips ran over the beads, then he reached back to squeeze your hand that was resting lightly on his shoulder.

“I love it.” He tilted his head back to absolutely beam at you.

At dinner, you weren’t even surprised when Jaemin joined you and Soongie in the line to get your food. You fondly noted that he was still wearing the necklace from earlier.

Leaning in towards him, you breathed in the familiar smells of roses and pine, then murmured, “Will you meet me? After lights-out tonight?”

“I had this weird feeling that you were going to ask me that,” he teased. “Yes.”

“So where are we headed?” Jaemin asked as soon as you found each other that night.

You didn’t hesitate to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I want to try to make clover crowns again.”

He started tugging you down the walkways. “Let’s do it.”

Taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was all around you, you let out an unintentional sigh after. “I can’t believe we’re going back tomorrow.”

“It always amazes me how fast a month goes here.”

“We’re going to—I’m going to see you again, right? When we get back?”

Jaemin screeched to a stop in the middle of the trail, turning to you with a startlingly severe look on his face. “What kind of question—Of course. We live in the same city, go to the same school. I meant everything I said, Y/N.”

“I-I know, Jaem.” You glanced up at the stars peeking through the treetops. “I guess this whole month sort of felt surreal… I’m worried about what real life will be like for us.”

“It’ll be better,” he said confidently. “Because I can take you on real dates there.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I don’t know, the waterfall was pretty romantic.”

“I’m glad you think so, beautiful.” He started down the trail again. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

The camp was in a fairly remote location, so everyone loaded up onto buses in the morning to drive back into the city, where the children would then be picked up by their parents. Since you had volunteered for the set-up crew, you weren’t staying for break-down, which meant you were going back with the kids and monitoring pick-up for your campers.

Most of the kids (and counselors) were napping on the bus, thoroughly tuckered out from the month of camp, and having to get up early to eat breakfast before the buses departed. Soongie was curled up on the bench seat with her head in your lap as she slept, and you yawned just looking at her.

“Tired, gorgeous?” Jaemin murmured from his aisle seat next to you. The three of you probably didn’t need to squeeze into one row, but there was no part of you that wanted to tell him to move.

“Mm, a bit,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Sleep.” He shifted to wrap his arm around you, encouraging you to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

After waking up, pick-up went surprisingly smooth. Most of the campers’ parents were already at the pick-up location, so it was just a matter of checking IDs and sending the families on their way. Soongie excitedly tugged you over to a trio of adults, one of whom looked far too old to be her parent, and another looked far too young—your age at most. They introduced themselves as her covenmates, and one of the witches was in fact her biological father, the one who looked between the other two in age. You chatted with them for a little bit as they confessed to being nervous since this was Soongie’s first time away from the coven. You filled them in on how well she did at camp, downplaying the horrors of the first night to put their minds at ease. Soongie gave you one last big hug before all four of them left with huge smiles on their faces.

Ningning was driving herself and some of the other junior counselors home, and you sent them off with a wave, the witch honking her horn in return. When things around the lot were finally quiet, you saw that all the campers were gone, and the lead counselors were even beginning to disperse as well. Jaemin was already walking up to you, his duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Heading out?” You asked, trying to hide your disappointment.

“In a minute. Now that pick-up’s done…” He grabbed one of your wrists with one hand and tugged your friendship bracelet from Soongie off with the other.

“Hey, that’s—”

“Your bad luck charm.”

You looked between him and the gift in confusion. “What?”

“Soongie didn’t do it on purpose. Witches that little have no control over their powers. I didn’t say something before because I know you wouldn’t have gotten rid of it while you were still around her, and all it’s been doing is minorly inconveniencing you.” He turned the bracelet around in his fingers to look at the plastic beads. “If it was seriously hurting you, I would’ve intervened.”

“Wait, so when I tripped on my shoelace…?”

“And when the canoe flipped, and all the spots at the mess hall being taken, and probably anything else that went wrong this whole month.” He tossed it up in the air and caught it before pocketing it. “Unless you’re usually that unlucky?”

“No, I just figured it was because this was my first year. Learning the ropes and stuff,” you shrugged, still bewildered as suddenly everything was clicking.

“Unintentional sabotage.”

“Well, good thing I had you then, huh?” You joked, nudging him with your elbow. “My guardian dryad.”

He pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. “It was tough work, keeping an extra close eye on you.”

“Aw, and here I thought you were hanging around me so much because of our great chemistry?”

“That too.” Jaemin looped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, peppering kisses on your cheek as you giggled and futilely tried to hide your face from him. “Mostly that.”

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[kkanabel]

co-pilot mischief ✫ soaked & see-thru ✫ chapter dos

captain curly x teasing!reader

it’s been a month since your epiphany that Captain Curly has a sweet little crush on you, and you’ve been teasing him the entire time. what happens when you push him even closer to the edge?

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

words: ~3.1k

t/w: STRONG sexual references but no actual yucky (yet), so imma say this is rated mature, reader being lowkey sadistic, cute curly <3, gn!reader/pronouns but reader wears a bra, mentions of curly's mayo slinger , depiction/description of nipples, (service?)dom!curly

a/n: hi. been obsessed with this video game recently—well, especially with Curly (go figure. i like fictional men). i needed to make something self-indulgent bc i just like this man way too much. and because i just want to make a world where none of them have to suffer. enjoy~ 

~janana does not exist in this world~

Planned Shipment Duration: 382 Days Elapsed Transit Time: 322 Days

It’s been a month since your epiphany that Captain Curly has a sweet little crush on you.

Once you realized it, there was no going back. Since then, you’ve made it your personal mission to tease him, dangling his attraction above his head like a packet of sweetener just out of reach. At first, you thought he’d crack quickly—his stammering, red ears, and darting eyes gave you plenty of hope—but it turns out he’s much harder to break than you expected.

Curly’s resolve, it seems, is made of iron—or at least something close to it. He holds tightly to his professionalism, though you can tell it’s a battle for him. He does his best to pretend nothing’s happening, no matter how blatantly you flirt or how often your hand "accidentally" brushes against his when passing tools or rations.

The moments he falters, though? Those are pure gold.

Like when you "forgot" to zip up your jumpsuit all the way, the collar slipping low enough to reveal the delicate lace of your bralette and the beginnings of cleavage. You’d leaned over the cockpit console, close enough to invade his personal space, pointing at a diagnostic screen that didn’t really need his attention.

“Captain,” you’d said sweetly, tilting your head just enough to let your hair brush against his arm. “Do you think this reading looks a little off? Or is it just me?”

Curly froze, his broad shoulders stiffening as if you’d just launched a torpedo into the ship. His eyes darted to the screen, then to you, then back to the screen again, avoiding your neckline like it might blind him.

“I... uh, it looks fine to me,” he muttered, clearing his throat. His voice was strained, low, like he was barely keeping himself together.

You watched, delighted, as his ears turned bright red.

And that wasn’t the only time. Every brush of your hand against his, every teasing glance, every accidental bump into him in the narrow halls of the ship sent little tremors through his carefully maintained composure. Once, when you deliberately lingered at his side during a crew meeting, your shoulder grazing his arm as you leaned against him, he shifted uncomfortably, his jaw tightening. You didn’t miss the way his hand flexed at his side, like he wanted to move but couldn’t.

It was adorable, really, how he tried so hard to maintain control. His lips would press into a thin line, his eyes locking onto anything but you, but the faint blush crawling up his neck always gave him away.

You couldn’t stop yourself from indulging in the little thrill of it. His reactions, subtle as they sometimes were, made your heart flutter in ways you didn’t entirely expect. It wasn’t just the fun of teasing him—it was the way he looked at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. That mix of yearning and restraint, like he wanted so badly to reach out but knew he couldn’t. It was intoxicating.

One evening, you decided to push him a little further.

The ship’s artificial lights cast a soft glow over the cockpit as the two of you worked on a recalibration for the nav system. You’d been at it for hours, but you didn’t feel tired—not when you had Curly as your company.

As he bent over the console, his strong hands deftly adjusting the inputs, you let your eyes wander over him. The curve of his shoulders, the faint stubble on his jaw, the way a lock of his blonde hair fell across his forehead... it was all so unfairly attractive.

“Hey, Captain,” you said, your voice light and teasing.

He glanced at you briefly, a suspicious flicker in his blue eyes. “What is it?”

“You’ve been working so hard lately,” you cooed, stepping closer. “Don’t you think you deserve a little break?”

He straightened, standing to his full height, which only made you want to tease him more. “We’re on duty,” he said, his tone firm, though his nervous countenance betrayed him. “No time for breaks.”

You tilted your head, letting your lips curve into a mischievous smile. “Not even for me?”

His jaw tightened, and he exhaled through his nose. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You held in a laugh in favor of feigning innocence, widening your eyes. “Enjoying what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his hand hovering in the air before dropping to his side. His blue eyes were filled with an unreadable emotion. “Whatever game you’re playing.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, mock-offended. “Game? I’m just trying to help my captain relax. Is that so wrong?”

His gaze flickered to your hand, then back to your face. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath like he was trying to steady himself. There was trouble written all over his handsome face.

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you added sweetly, grazing past him to grab a tablet from the console. Your chest brushed against his arm, and you swore you heard him mutter something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like your name.

You walked away, hiding your smile behind the tablet. This was too much fun.

But as you glanced back at him, catching the way he ran a hand through his blonde hair in frustration, your heart gave a little flutter. Maybe you were having fun teasing him into madness, but you couldn’t deny that part of you that wanted him to finally snap—wanted to see what would happen when that carefully constructed professionalism finally broke.

A couple of days later, you woke up an hour too early. The mistake had been drinking coffee with Curly too late into the evening. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, a casual moment of camaraderie with the captain, but now you were left wide-eyed in the dark, staring at the ceiling of your cabin.

Giving up on the idea of returning to sleep, you decided to make the most of the situation. Slipping out of bed, you grabbed a water sachet and padded down the quiet halls toward the cockpit, still dressed in your pajamas—just a white T-shirt and the shortest of pajama shorts.

Usually, for the sake of decency, you’d slip on a bralette under the shirt during film nights or crew gatherings. The last thing you wanted was to flash someone like Daisuke or Swansea and scar them for life. But now, in the stillness of the ship’s early hours, you felt a little more emboldened. Besides, you couldn’t help but think about how Curly might react.

You’d caught him looking before, though he tried so hard to hide it. When you wore an extra tank top you found in the cockpit locker (It was Curly’s, and it was at least a size too big), exposing just a hint more skin—shoulders and the teasing curve of the side of your chest through the arm holes that were too big, his face turned a violent shade of red, and he’d buried himself in a book—upside down. The memory still made you grin. His excuse about following “Pony Express directives” to “practice” reading things from unconventional angles was laughable, yet endearing in how desperately he tried to cling to professionalism.

Though ever since then, he’s found it difficult to meet your eyes or even glance at you.

Tonight, the shirt’s white fabric was a little more thin than you usually dared, and you knew it fell off the peaks and curves off your body in just the right way. The thought made your pulse quicken, imagining how Curly would react—if he was going to refuse to look at you, you were going to find a way to force him to.

As you approached the cockpit, the faint hum of the ship’s systems buzzed softly, and the doorway glowed faintly with the green and white lights of the control panels. Curly was there, of course, hunched over one of the consoles. His wavy blonde hair caught the artificial light, strands tousled as though he’d run his fingers through them in frustration.

From the doorway, you took a moment to admire him. He was all rugged edges and quiet strength, his broad shoulders casting a silhouette that almost filled the chair he sat in. His stubbled jaw was set in concentration, the faint shadows of fatigue underlining his blue eyes as they flicked between readouts. Even in moments like this, when he wasn’t putting on his usual air of command, he radiated a certain kind of allure.

Curly’s mind was a storm. He hated this—how easily you unraveled him, how effortlessly you bypassed every wall of professionalism he’d built over the years. It wasn’t just the shirt or the skin it revealed—it was you. The way you moved, the way you smiled at him like you knew exactly what you were doing.

And even then, he felt guilty. Deeply, horribly guilty.

This wasn’t how a captain should think about his crew—especially not about you. He couldn’t stop his mind from straying. He admired your sharp wit, respected your skills, and relied on you more than he cared to admit. You weren’t just capable; you were remarkable.

And that was the problem. Because the more he admired you, the harder it was to ignore the way his thoughts veered into forbidden territory. And tonight, when you stepped into the room, bleary-eyed and relaxed in your white t-shirt, his heart had nearly stuttered to a stop. 

“Captain,” you called softly, leaning against the doorway.

His head snapped up, eyes widening slightly before he schooled his expression into something more neutral. “You’re up early,” he said, his voice low and gravelly from disuse, quickly flicking his eyes away from you and towards the ship’s monitors, a habit he’s developed recently.

“Curly?” You said again, waiting until his eyes finally met yours. You stepped inside, deliberately slow, letting him take in your appearance. His gaze darted to you briefly—just a flicker—but his lips pressed into a thin line, and he immediately focused back on the console.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said, shrugging as you approached him. “Thought I’d keep you company.”

He cleared his throat. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh,” You frowned, “but I wanted to.” You leaned over the console, pretending to inspect one of the readings. The motion caused the shirt to shift ever so slightly, revealing the crux of your neck and the faint outline of your collarbone.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him freeze. His strong hands, usually so sure as they worked the controls, stilled. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, and a faint pink began to creep up his neck to his ears. “I—uh…” He faltered, his words caught in his throat. “It’s not much to look at,” he managed, gesturing vaguely to the display.

You glanced at him, catching the way his blue eyes flicked nervously to yours before darting away again. His jaw clenched, the stubble along his chin shifting with the movement, and you noticed the way his broad shoulders seemed to tense as though he were bracing himself.

His hands betrayed him, gripping the edge of the console as though it were the only thing anchoring him.

The curves of your chest moved freely with each step you took. The material was thin, revealing your shadowy valleys. The shirt cupped them like a gentle hand, and the peaks of your nipples pushed against the fabric. 

He scolded himself silently, jaw tightening. How could he let his thoughts wander like this? It was unprofessional, inappropriate, and downright wrong. You were younger than him, his crewmate, his second-in-command—he was your boss! And still, despite all the reasons he gave himself to stop, he couldn’t help but notice the way the fabric of your shirt caught the light as he cursed himself for having these thoughts while being your superior.

He noticed too much—the curve of your lips when you smiled, the sway of your hair when you moved, the way your presence filled the cockpit and left him fighting for composure. 

You’d casually stepped into the cockpit, rubbing your eyes and clutching a water sachet, (trying to look) completely unaware of the chaos you were stirring. The ship’s dim lighting hummed softly around you as you took in the familiar sight of Curly, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he focused on the console in front of him.

Your gaze drifted for a moment, taking in the quiet stillness of the cockpit. You liked moments like this—when the ship felt like it was holding its breath, everything running smoothly. Your eyes quickly darted back at the ship’s monitors, looking for anomalies. But your attention quickly shifted back to Curly, and concern tugged at the edges of your thoughts.

The dark shadows under his eyes and the faint redness around them told you he hadn’t gotten much sleep. His posture was rigid, shoulders tense even in stillness, and you found yourself frowning slightly.

“Curly,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence. He turned his head just enough to acknowledge you, his blue eyes weary but alert. “When was the last time you stood up to take a stretch?” you asked, tilting your head in gentle inquiry.

His brow furrowed, and he let out a quiet sigh. “I’m fine,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Captain,” you said with mock sternness, “don’t make me log a report about your poor self-care habits.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face before reluctantly pushing himself to his feet. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice gruff.

You stepped back, giving him space while pretending to busy yourself with your water sachet. In truth, you were staring as he stretched. His arms reached overhead, his broad shoulders and defined muscles shifting beneath his Pony Express t-shirt that was too tight in many places. You let your gaze linger for a moment, appreciating the sharp line of his jaw and the way his stubble caught the faint light and the upper half of the coveralls that were hanging casually at his hips.

But you weren’t entirely selfless. As he finished, you casually lifted your arms to stretch as well, arching your back just enough to emphasize the thin fabric of your shirt. You didn’t dare glance at him directly, but you were sure he noticed. You could almost feel the tension in the air shift, his silence betraying his discomfort—or was it something else?

Then, as you reached for your water sachet, the corner of your hand snagged it, tipping it forward and sending a stream of cool liquid splashing onto both of you.

“Oh no!” you gasped, stepping back in shock as the water soaked into your shirt and splattered onto Curly’s lower torso.

“I—I’m so sorry!” you stammered, grabbing for the stack of napkins you always kept nearby for emergencies. “I didn’t mean to—hold on, let me—”

Holding the napkins, you stepped closer and began dabbing at his shirt, focusing on the damp fabric clinging to his lower torso. His breath hitched when your fingers brushed against him, and his hands twitched at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. His breathing had grown shallow, his eyes darting anywhere but at you.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, though his voice was strained. 

But you were too focused on drying him off to notice the growing tension in his body. His shirt clung to his lower torso, outlining the solid planes of muscle beneath, and you worked methodically, your brows furrowed in genuine apology as you dabbed the napkins all over his lower stomach and upper thighs.

“I’m such an idiot,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. “I don’t even know how I…” you murmured, your voice frantic as you continued your drying. The napkins glided over his shirt, and though your touch was light and innocent, the intimacy of it was anything but. His stomach muscles tensed under your hand, and you felt a pang of guilt for causing the situation.

“Y-you don’t have to—”

“But I do!” you cut him off, leaning in just a bit closer. “I made the mess, so it’s only fair I fix it.”

His breathing grew heavier, though he was trying his best to keep it steady. His gaze flicked toward the damp, clinging fabric of your shirt again, and his cheeks burned even brighter. Your napkin drying eventually ended on his upper thigh—you’d dabbed that place a couple of times already, but this time, you noticed that it was… bulging. And hard. 

And massive.

Then you noticed something else.

The air around you suddenly felt charged, and when you glanced down, your face lit up in horror. Your wet shirt was clinging to your chest like a second skin, the thin white fabric leaving very little to the imagination and turning almost entirely transparent. Splotches of color from your areolas were clearly visible under the fabric.

“Oh my-,” you whispered, your cheeks burning as you instinctively crossed your arms over yourself.

Curly’s gaze darted to you for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head away, his face flushing a deep crimson. He instantly peels off his t-shirt and places it over your head to cover you. If he gets just one more look at you exposed, he’ll-

“Thanks, Curly.” You say, relieved. 

He looks down and sees your nipples still poking through the two layers of fabric, and he lets in a sharp breath before he tears his eyes away from you. You hold back an amused chuckle from what just went down, and you sigh wistfully as you take in his shirtless form.

“Darn,” you said finally, straightening and tossing the used napkins into the trash. “I guess this means you need to go take a shower and change into dry pajamas. Maybe even get some sleep while you’re at it. I’ll take care of things here in the meantime.”

He blinked at you, looking dazed and overwhelmed, his lips parting as if to protest, but no words came out. How could you have bounced back so quickly?

You smiled sweetly, your tone light and teasing as you gestured toward the exit. “Go on, Captain. That’s an order.”

For a moment, he just stood there, his jaw working as though he wanted to say something. But then he gave a sharp nod, his eyes avoiding yours as he muttered a gruff, “Fine,” before turning and leaving the cockpit.

As the door slid shut behind him, you let out a soft chuckle, enjoying the scent of his t-shirt (albeit wet) wrapped around you. You try to ignore the heat that builds up in your stomach when you think about him, in the shower, taking care of his “little” problem, wrapping his hand around himself with a groan.

a/n: let me know what y'all think!

oh yeah.. smut.. tomorrow…?

taglist is open! lmk if you want to be on the taglist for just curly/mouthwashing characters or if you want the news on alll my fics… also might be accepting requests hehe! i can’t guarantee that i can do em, but i’ll accept ideas!

btw. not beta read, please let me know if there are any typos or inconsistencies stay safe & hydrated as always!

(and go to sleep if you’re reading this super late. don’t be a curly. take care of yourself!)

thanks for reading! <3

crossposted on ao3

directory/m.list ⇦ previous chapter - next chapter ⇨

[entomologistt]

Where do they keep a picture of you?

Featuring: Alice DeRoss, Frederick Kreiburg, Melly Plinius, Orpheus DeRoss, and Norton Campbell (separate headcanons)

Ento note: Basically ashes of memory gang, yeah. I love them. I wrote this on the verge of passing out... First written post too!! ^^ Gender neutral reader!!!

Alice DeRoss

Goodness, she has so many pictures of you! All taken with the camera she always has with her. Where does she keep them? She definitely has a whole scrapbook dedicated to pictures of you and the two of you together! With dates and notes.

But on her person, she keeps a special picture of you in her purse to carry wherever she goes. When she has the time to herself, she often takes it out to admire you, a fond smile on her face.

It’s one where she caught you off guard during one of your dates. She thinks it really captured your natural radiance, your most natural, most prettiest smile without being encouraged by the camera… Which is why it’s her favourite!

She can’t wait to capture more of you!

Frederick Kreiburg

Frederick is considered a paranoid person, and although you may not be a secret, he doesn’t want you dragged into his problems. But he definitely has a picture of you on his person. It’s kept safely in a secret compartment of his coat; it can only be accessed by him.

So when he gets into that spiralling state, when none of his musical compositions sound or look right, a sea of crumbled papers surrounding his space— yeah, he needs something to get him out of there. So that’s with his tuning fork, the echoing soundwaves clearing his thoughts, silencing those “ghosts” …

And looking at the picture of you, the one he keeps so dear. It inspires him, the captured feelings he has for you eventually turned into beautiful piano symphonies.

You are his muse, after all.

Melly Plinius

Melly keeps you in her hat. She likes you, and she likes hats, so it’s the perfect combination. Her two favourite things in one, how lovely. In that little space inside with the stitches, so it's basically kept as snug as a bug.

It’s a picture of you on a picnic you’d set up for the two of you, a surprise from you when you tagged along on one of her entomological studies. Out of all the insect and flower pictures taken on that camera, the picture of you had to be the best, her lovebug.

However, she doesn’t always carry it—only when she travels. When she’s not, she puts it in a frame or somewhere it can be protected. She doesn’t want to lose it, it’s her favourite.

She deeply appreciates you and your sweetness.

Orpheus DeRoss

Orpheus wouldn’t keep you on his person. No, he has to keep you a secret; he has to be careful. But you are his darling lover; he has to have at least one, so he keeps your picture hidden away in a journal. Like a bookmark.

In fact, this journal is filled with a bunch of writings or poems about you. It’s all dedicated to you, all the thoughts of you he has written down while away from you. He misses you.

Maybe, just maybe, one day he’ll give and show it to you… When the time is right.

He’s running out of pages to spill his heart on.

Norton Campbell

There are two places Norton might keep your picture. Like Melly, somewhere on his mining hat, or simply in his pocket. He doesn’t have the luxury of being fancy with it. Wherever it is, he treats it like it’s the last thing he has of you, so it's definitely treasured.

So when it slips out onto the ground, he’s quick to chase and grab it before they can. He can handle the teasing and remarks of his cruel co-workers, he doesn’t care, as long as he still has that picture of you in his possession.

It’s you that keeps him going, along with… other things. He has his own goals, yes, but is it so bad to want light in the darkness of this hellhole?

You make him believe that kindness still exists.

[lunaroracleofvenus]

🌺what sweetness should you invite into your life right now🌺PAC

what does your higher self want you to seduce, create and invite into your life right now? This is just in time as we shift into the new year. divined with source, Aphrodite and Hekate <3

PILE ONE

Pile one you might be going through a bit of instability or scarcity at the moment. Spirit says seek forgiveness for any role you had in your current circumstances, as well as forgiving what may be out of your control. You are being called to take appropriate responsibility, so you can change what you can.

Strong money themes are in this pile. Your higher selves are calling you all to invite more abundance and stability at this time. Perhaps there’s an abundant idea you have in your head at the moment, you’re being called to work on that now. Perhaps there are some abundance rituals you thought of.. spirit is saying now is the time. abundance rituals can look like drinking cinnamon tea, putting bay leaf in your wallet and more. spirit also wants you to appreciate whatever abundance exists in your life right at this moment.

You are also being called to learn more about finances, and build more stability and security with that. This can be done through financial literacy. Learning about finances and growing discipline.  This pile definitely has the power to create what they want, and attract who they want.

There’s another message here about beauty and self worth. Beauty wants you to see it more, in yourself and your surroundings. This pile has an aura of sensuality and seduction.  It wants you to take a more assertive approach to what you want in the financial and romantic areas of your life. go after the guy you have a crush on, make that dating profile, and pray for love. this is your season of harvesting the love you desire.

555

what you need - ashley sienna

Sensual seduction - snoop dogg

PILE TWO

This pile is being called to evaluate what is truly important to them at this time. It is not about winning, it is about being true to you and what you desire and love. what is truly bringing you joy and ease?

There might be a large urge to transform at this time. The sweetness that you should invite is aligned with your potential, beauty, fortune, and truth. This pile feels like a revenge glow up. The need to transform, getting what u want, and stunting on those that thought otherwise about you. truly physically and mentally inviting more beauty and abundance.

You need to invite a higher self concept. A self concept that is aligned with knowing your beauty, worth, and alluring the fortune that belongs to you. the ability to believe you are blessed by Aphrodite. that you walk with a beautiful sway, and your face is graced by the gods.

Your independence is also very highlighted in this pile. I can not  emphasize the transforming energy of this pile enough. You need to center yourself more, and focus a bit more on your potential, self esteem, and money. The energy that wants to be called in is very golden, with specs of blue in the eye area. I think the blueness represents wisdom, and seeing and knowing your truth. 

“See her, need her

God I love her features

Her sweetness, your weakness

Make heaven on venus

That's me, baby

God I am so happy

That you made me

Blessed by aphrodite”

222

Aphrodite - ashley sienna

Sorry, not sorry - tyler the creator

PILE THREE

You are being invited to co-create with the universe your desired life. Inviting scenarios that are truly in alignment with your hearts desire, and creating them.

There is a lot of pink and red in the coming aura of this group. Pink is connected to love, and the heart chakra and red is a root chakra color. i think the pink and red is prominent because your next season can be filled with love, security and stability, if you invite it in. if you plant the seeds, and allow it to root itself in your life, mind and heart.

The sweetness being called into your life has to do with being present, and patiently co-creating with the loving universe. To be present in that way is deeply feminine. There is a lesson of an intricate balance of surrender but also intentional desire and creation. You are also being called to be more intentional about what you do in your present routine as this is creating/manifesting your future self/reality.

 but yeah, this pile is being called to truly tap into feminine energy. The quality of yin is the feminine energy i am referring to. Feminine energy is connected to sensuality, pleasure and your ability to receive.

111

The present is woman - Toni Jones.

One of your girls - Troye Sivan

[cwritesforfun]

Hi!!

So, I'm so desperate for a Emma D'arcy x Fem Reader fic!!

Pleeeasee

Ok here you go: hope you enjoy!!!

Emma D'Arcy x Fem!Reader: Co-Workers or Something More? (Request)

Y/N = Your Name using She/Her/Hers pronouns Emma's pronouns are They/Them ** I do not own any House of Dragon plot points briefly mentioned

Y/N's POV

Getting the role of Alicent on House of Dragon was nerve-wracking. You were a huge fan of Game of Thrones and even read all the released books. You've been working for years towards getting a role in any TV show or movie. You have been in some indie films and when you got the call to be Alicent, you thought you were dreaming. It was amazing. It was probably one of your favorite days to ever exist.

At the table read for the first season, you were pouring a cup of coffee for yourself when you heard, "So you're playing Alicent?" You turn and see someone beautiful staring at you. You felt lost in their soft blue eyes for years if you could. You instead say, "Yes I am, my name is Y/N. Nice to meet you, what's your name?" The person standing opposite you says, "It's lovely to meet you, Y/N. Y/N is such a beautiful name. I'm Emma D'Arcy and I'm playing Rhaenyra." You reply, "Emma is a beautiful name for a beautiful person. Rhaenyra is a Targaryen, so I am jealous." Emma lets out a laugh and says, "I'm flattered. Say, do you want to grab a bite to eat after this?" You nod and answer, "Sounds great." You both take your seats next to each other, and the table read begins. It lasts several hours.

Afterward, you and Emma make your way out to a restaurant that claims to have great cocktails. You arrive, get seated in a booth, and both order drinks. Emma orders a Negroni Sbagliato with prosecco in it and you order a Gin Martini with a twist. (If you know, you know.)

The night carries on with you two discussing your career, your lack of a love life, and dragons. It's a great night with even better company.

The next 10 months as you film season 1, you become close with the cast, especially Emma. You both hang out outside of filming time and you really like Emma. You find yourself dreaming of Emma some nights and you can barely meet their eyes. It's so embarrassing to have a crush, especially on a coworker. Emma also flirts when they get drunk and it's always directed to you. You don't know if they're just drunk or actually like you.

Season One finishes filming and the whole cast is at an open bar. You're sitting sipping your second gin martini and you are starting to feel tipsy. You hear, "Is this seat taken?" You see Emma standing there in all their glory and you shake your head. Emma sits next to you, leans back, and puts an arm around the back of your seat. Should you lean back... or what...? You lean back and Emma's hand finds your shoulder. Emma exclaims, "I was wondering if you were going to move closer." You reply, "Sorry, what was that? I keep getting lost in your eyes, what too cheesy?" Emma laughs and asks, "Is that why you've been avoiding me on set?" You shrug and answer, "Yes, you exist in my daily life and in my dreams. It's hard to look at you after I dream about you." Emma raises an eyebrow, places their other hand on your thigh, smirks, and asks, "And what are we doing in those dreams, may I ask?" You place one of your hands on Emma's hand on your thigh and answer, "Oh you know hot stuff." Emma smiles and asks, "Wanna get out of here?" You nod.

You both leave the party together and head to Emma's place.

When you get there, Emma complains about being hungry so you agree to cook with them. You both cook pasta, listen to music, and dance together. You both eat dinner so fast while laughing whenever you make eye contact.

You both walk to the couch and Emma asks, "Just a question, but when you said hot stuff in your dream with me, does that mean you have a crush on me?" You answer, "It's so embarrassing being a 30-year-old with a crush, but yes I do like you like that." Emma says, "I think the only embarrassing thing would be if I didn't feel the same way... I like you too. I really like you. I want to kiss you, but I know we're both really tipsy." You reply, "We can still kiss tipsy. I give my consent." Emma smirks and replies, "I think if we kiss, I won't be able to stop." You smirk and ask, "OK then what should we do?" Emma answers, "We could just watch a show or sleep."

You both watch a part of a movie until you both start falling asleep and waking each other up. You go to the bedroom to sleep and you wear one of Emma's shirts to bed. Emma is the big spoon and cuddles you as you drift off to sleep.

You wake up cozy and with a raging headache. You groan and twist a little. You hear Emma groan next to you and they say, "Morning. Is it just me or did those drinks really break your head?" You say, "I'm in pain. Yeah... but I liked waking up next to you." Emma replies, "I liked waking up to you too. You're a good cuddle buddy."

You both get up, you borrow clothes from Emma, and you go out to eat breakfast. You eat breakfast sandwiches and start to feel like a human. You go back to Emma's place, get back into pajamas, and turn on the TV to watch something.

Emma exclaims, "Let's kiss." You smile and say, "OK." Emma cups your face gently and you kiss. It's even better than in your dreams when you kiss them.

Part Two

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - sex doll au, implied dub/con, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, and generally depraved behavior.

You're starting to wonder if you should've gotten a different pair.

You knew what you were getting into when you decided that, of all the androids in Teyvat's stock, you were going to be one of the few brave souls that dared to put two members of the Akademiya Collection that weren't Tighnari and Cyno under the same roof. The salesperson had cringed as you made your selection, your more tech-savvy friends pursed their lips and asked if that was really for the best, and you couldn't mention your specific preferences on any public message board without being berated off the platform entirely. You didn't care, thought. The heart wants what it wants, and apparently, your heart wanted two burnt-out post-grads to rail you into next week.

That's what you told yourself until you got Alhaitham and Kaveh home, at least.

The bickering, you were prepared for. You weren't surprised by the constant passive-aggression, the subtle pokes at Alhaitham's arrogance and Kaveh's bleeding heart, and you managed to stomach it the first time your dreams of a multi-major threesome were dashed because Kaveh mentioned some ancient philosophical principle and Alhaitham couldn't resist the opportunity to correct his wording and you were left bouncing yourself on Alhaitham's cock while he dispassionately flipped through a textbook you haven't opened since you were an under-grad. Minor hiccups, nothing you couldn't forget about when Kaveh buried his face between your thighs or Alhaitham split you open on his fingers while reading your latest research paper aloud, denying you an orgasm for every grammatical error. That part, you wouldn't trade for the world.

The jealousy, though - you could live without that. You've heard that there's supposed to be fail-safes for this kind of thing, measures the developers take to make sure any companion droids can co-exist without tearing each other apart, but their mutual distaste seems strong enough to overwhelm whatever barriers their creators put in place. You've lost count of the number of times there's been a false-alarm in some other part of your apartment while you're on your knees at Alhaitham's feet, how many times Alhaitham's flawless hardware has suddenly 'malfunctioned' while Kaveh has your ankles propped on his shoulders.

Not getting laid, you can deal with, but it's a little hard to be so forgiving when Kaveh spends the better half a day pouting because you took Alhaitham to work and left him at home, when Alhaitham deletes your registered commands from his memory bank because you had the nerve to take Kaveh to a farmer's market that that he'd rather die than step foot in. You've tried to be fair, to divide your time evenly, but they're not happy with that, either. Neither of them would ever say it out loud, but it's clear enough that they both want to be the center of your attention. It'd be cute, if they weren't so spiteful.

The only thing worse than their jealousy is when they put aside their spitefulness, their petty arguments, and decide to agree on the only thing they can ever agree on: that their beloved 'master' should be the one to make up for all those hours of neglect. It's a little like your fantasies, but not quite; your chest pressed against Alhaitham's Kaveh's chin resting on your shoulder, the former inside of you while the latter whispers sweet-nothings against the curve of your throat. It's more violent than anything you ever would've expected from two men so scholarly, more aggressive - teeth buried in your skin, bruises in the shape of their palm painted across your thighs, fingers forcing their way past your lips whenever you so much as consider using your safe-word. You're left strung-out for hours after they're done with you, and Kaveh's free to press himself against your side while Alhaitham tries to pass himself off as the caretaker he so clearly isn't. It's the only time they don't waste their breath on bickering. It's the only time they ever get along.

It's the only time you don't have the strength to focus on anything but your two precious, precious androids.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Baby whisperer

A/N: My baby fever with Mr. Stark is baacckkkk. Anyone care to join me???

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ fluff

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You were on the verge of tears at this point.

It had been hours and you were still struggling to get your baby to settle. You had tried everything that normally would get her to fall asleep, you’d fed her, bathed her, placed her in her favourite rocking chair, even sang to her but it wasn’t working tonight.

Nothing was.

With the ever raging hormones, you felt like a failure who couldn’t even get her two month old child to sleep. Her wails were proof enough that you weren’t doing enough.

You were pacing back and forth in her nursery, patting her back gently while she screamed, your clothes already ruined when she spit up earlier. You’d have to take another shower, you thought. But all you wanted was for your baby to settle so you could too.

Like every new parent, sleep was non-existent these days but holding your precious daughter, watching her toothless grin and listening to her incoherent babbles made everything worth it.

She was everything you and Tony ever wanted.

Speaking of Tony, you asked the AI where your husband was, not hiding the irritation in your voice as she informed he was down in his lab, as always.

“Tell him it would be grand if he cared to visit his daughter and distraught wife, would you FRI?” You grumbled, still pacifying your baby whose cries had settled to a certain extent, but she was still fussing about.

“Did someone summon Daddy Stark? How are my favourite girls?” Tony’s arrival didn’t hinder your pacing, his eyes widening slightly when you threw you him your ‘you’re in trouble’ glare.

“She won’t settle today. I’ve tried everything.”

Immediately your baby squirmed in your arms, it was as if she was waiting for her father to hold her. Passing her to Tony carefully, you let out a sigh and took a seat in the plush armchair that sat next to her crib.

“Hazel M Stark, I heard you’ve been a little cranky today. How about we close those beautiful eyes and show Mama we can behave, huh?”

You watched in awe as Tony spoke to Hazel, his voice soft as ever, holding her against his chest as she settled down in minutes. He began humming a lullaby in Italian, one that made her drowsy in no time.

You knew this lullaby since he would often sing it to you during the last few weeks of your pregnancy when you were getting little to no sleep thanks to the discomfort that came with growing a baby in your belly.

He had been a calming factor throughout when you had initially presumed he would freak out the most. Whenever the baby’s kicks woke you up in the middle of the night, all he’d have to do was place his hands over your tummy and she would settle.

It was from then you knew that she’d be Daddy’s little girl. And every day ever since, was just proof that you were right.

It was heartwarming to watch, but equally annoying in times like these. All he would do was lovingly take her in his arms and she’d be content. But to be fair, you were the same when you’d initially got together with the man.

Shocked and offended as you were, you were relieved to see your baby finally calm and quiet, fast asleep before Tony gently laid her in her crib, making sure she had her stuffed rabbit and blanket secured around her.

“Are you sure you don’t secretly have more kids running around?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelief as you gazed down at Hazel, who was now sleeping blissfully.

“Excuse me? If you must know I have three.”

You chuckled, accepting Tony’s hug as he rubbed your back soothingly, placing a loving kiss against the side of your head. It was then when you allowed yourself to fully feel the exhaustion you were ignoring, the ache in your muscles, the heaviness in your eyelids, all of it. If you could, you’d sleep for sixteen hours straight but you knew there was only a couple of hours you would be rewarded with before your newborn would wake up for her feeding.

“Come on, Mama. Let’s get you to bed. I got another special lullaby for you.”