#well- three but it meets the third requirement

[hermetiqa]

YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE'S FIRST IMPRESSION OF YOU

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

How to pick a pile: close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

Note: please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

ㅤ HOME ⋆ MASTERLIST

ㅤ WITCHY SHOP ⋆ TIP JAR

PILE ONE

Hello, Pile 1! Welcome to your reading. So what I'm getting is that your future spouse's first impression of you will be a mix of emotional, intellectual, and practical nature. Your future spouse will see you as their soulmate or "the one" the moment they see/meet you. When you meet, they'll be in the stage of life where life's testing them real bad. I feel like they're one of the fixed signs who will be heavily affected by Pluto in Aquarius and their life will be such a rollercoaster ride. So when they meet you, they'll feel like this rollercoaster ride has just ended because you'll be their comfort zone. I'm seeing that you could have a masculine energy who's emotionally intelligent and/or connected/in touch with your emotions. Your future spouse admires this trait of yours and it makes them want you even more in their life. I'm also getting that your future spouse sees you as someone who's practical and might be good with money. You could be financially stable or money flows easily for you. They see you as someone nurturing and caring, to the point that you're really committed to them and to your relationship.

PILE TWO

Hello there, Pile 2! Welcome to your reading. First of all, what I'm getting here is that your future spouse will see you as someone who constantly learns something new. You might meet at a university or institutions or workplace where you're required to learn and enhance new skills. To your future spouse, you're a logical person and you might have masculine energy. I'm getting the IDGAF energy here and this might be their first impression of you. They see you as someone who doesn't tolerate toxicity and bad behavior. When someone does you wrong or dirty for the first time and they apologize to you, you'll accept and forgive. But if they do it again on the second time, that's a goodbye to them. There will be no third time. You don't give a fuck whether they'll be hurt when you cut ties because first of all, that's their fault and you're simply protecting yourself from their energy. I'm also seeing that your future spouse will see you as someone who knows what you want and you just do your thing and get it. Just like in Ariana's song 7 rings, "I want it, I got it" which I keep hearing right now. I also feel like when you meet, you might be in a "stuck" situation or you're mentally foggy and they'll notice this so your future spouse will have the urge to help you or approach you and be in their strongest masculine energy because they see you as someone with masculine energy, and they'll try to beat that. Not because of ego, but because they know you have high standards and well, they want you so they'll try to fit in those standards, but not in a fake or pretentious way, but in a way that they'll be a better person.

PILE THREE

Hello, Pile 3! Welcome to your reading. Well, this is such a passionate and fiery energy here. I'm getting that your future spouse's first impression of you is that they'll see you as someone who's fiery. You have a lot of courage and when someone tests you or makes your life a bit difficult, you don't back down. Instead, you fight back. I can see that your future spouse sees you as someone who's expanding your finances. You're trying to make your financial life stable here, or even more than stable. You could meet at a workplace, specifically in business-related workplaces. I'm seeing a woman wearing a white blouse, dark blue/navy trousers and 3-inch black heels standing in front of a desk and typing something on the computer, helping someone get their work done or looking at their work. This could be you or them. I'm also seeing that your future spouse sees you as a passionate person, you're passionate in your job and you get all your work done. I feel like you could be the CEO here. I'm also seeing that your future spouse will be really physically attracted to you when you first meet (to a sexual level). They'll be starstruck when they see you and it'll feel like the world suddenly stopped moving.

[bratzkoo]

into you | kim seokjin pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Banner made by: @shadowkoo Pairing: actor! seokjin x journalist! reader Word Count: 4.5k~ Genre: fluff, more fluff, angst, more angst Rating: PG-15 Possible Warnings/Note: enemies to lovers seokjin is *chef's kiss*

Summary: Kim Seokjin finds himself entangled in a complex web of emotions when he meets the journalist covering his new series, challenging everything he is.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @aretha170 , @jinniegenie , @mooniyooni .@we8joon​ , @njrwifey​, @woncheecks, @armycarat2612

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | bts masterlist

Jin was staring at his reflection in his trailer's mirror, adjusting his cravat for what had to be the fifteenth time that morning. The period costume was immaculate – it had been for the past hour – but he couldn't seem to stop fidgeting with it.

"If you keep fussing with that tie, you're going to wrinkle it," Kyrie observed from her spot on his trailer's sofa, not bothering to hide her amusement.

"It's a cravat," Jin corrected automatically, hands finally dropping from the fabric. "And I'm not fussing. I'm ensuring historical accuracy."

"Mhmm." Kyrie's tone was knowing. "And I suppose that has nothing to do with a certain journalist starting her behind-the-scenes coverage today?"

The tips of Jin's ears turned pink, a telltale sign that Kyrie had hit the mark. He chose to ignore her, instead pulling out his phone to check the time. And if he happened to glance at the saved tab of Y/N's article about him – well, that was purely for professional reference.

A knock at the trailer door made him nearly drop his phone. "Mr. Kim? Y/N from Spotlight has arrived."

Jin's heart did a complicated little flip that he steadfastly ignored. "Coming," he called out, shooting one last glance at his reflection.

"Just remember," Kyrie said, her teasing tone shifting to something more serious, "we have a lot riding on this show."

The unspoken reminder of their complicated situation hung in the air. Jin nodded, squaring his shoulders. He was an actor. He could handle this.

That confidence lasted approximately three seconds after stepping out of his trailer, because Y/N standing in the morning sunlight was somehow even more devastating than he'd prepared for. She was dressed professionally in tailored slacks and a blouse, her hair pulled back in a neat bun – though a few stubborn strands had already escaped to frame her face. Jin's fingers itched with the inexplicable urge to tuck them behind her ear.

"Mr. Kim," she greeted, her tone perfectly professional. The same tone that had dissected his career in her article, seeing through his carefully constructed image with unnerving accuracy.

"Ms. Y/N." He managed to keep his voice steady. "Welcome to the 19th century."

Something flickered in her eyes – amusement? skepticism? – before she checked her notebook. "Shall we begin with the scheduled interview?"

And so began what Jin would later refer to as his own personal form of torture. Because Y/N, it turned out, was even more perceptive in person than in print. She had this way of looking at him when he gave one of his practiced answers, one eyebrow slightly raised as if to say 'really? that's what you're going with?'

It was infuriating. It was fascinating. It was definitely not making his heart race.

"You still haven't answered how you're approaching Lord Hawthorne's emotional complexity," she pressed during their third interview session. "Your previous roles have been quite different."

Jin resisted the urge to loosen his cravat. The period costume suddenly felt stifling under her direct gaze. "Every role requires finding the character's truth," he replied smoothly, falling back on his media training.

"That sounds rehearsed," Y/N said bluntly.

The honesty caught him off guard, making him forget his carefully crafted persona for a moment. He looked at her – really looked at her – and found genuine interest beneath her professional exterior. She wasn't trying to trip him up or catch him in a scandal. She actually wanted to understand.

It was terrifying.

"Perhaps we should move on to discussing the costume department?" he suggested instead of admitting how much her observation had affected him.

Later, during a break in filming, Jin found himself drawn to the library set where Y/N was examining the book collection. She was so absorbed in a leather-bound volume that she didn't notice his approach.

"Jane Eyre?" he asked, recognizing the edition in her hands.

Y/N startled slightly, nearly dropping the book. "You know it?"

"Rochester's a bit of an ass, if you ask me," Jin said before he could stop himself. "The whole 'hiding my wife in the attic' thing? Major red flag."

The laugh that escaped Y/N was bright and unguarded, so different from her usual professional demeanor that it made Jin's chest tight. He wanted to hear that laugh again. Wanted to be the cause of it.

The thought sent a jolt of panic through him.

- The ballroom scene that afternoon proved to be Jin's undoing. Every time he turned Kyrie in their practiced dance steps, his eyes would involuntarily find Y/N in the corner. She was taking notes, but her body swayed subtly to the period music, an unconscious movement that made her seem softer somehow, more approachable.

"That's the third time you've missed your cue," Kyrie murmured during their fifth take, quiet enough that only Jin could hear.

"Sorry," he muttered, forcing his attention back to the choreography.

"You're not exactly being subtle, you know."

Jin's step faltered slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut!" the director called out, frustration evident in his voice. "Jin, can we talk for a moment?"

As Jin made his way over to the director, he caught Y/N hastily scribbling something in her notebook. Probably noting his repeated mistakes. Great. Just what he needed – more ammunition for her to see through his professional facade.

The afternoon dragged on, each scene requiring multiple takes. Not because of any particular difficulty with the choreography, but because Jin's focus kept betraying him. He'd catch a glimpse of Y/N biting her lip in concentration, or tucking those stubborn loose strands behind her ear, and suddenly his carefully maintained Regency manners would slip.

His phone buzzed in his pocket during a break:

Jungkook: "Saw the behind-the-scenes photos the crew's been sharing. Subtle as a brick, hyung 😏"

Jin groaned internally, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Was he really being that obvious?

"Here."

He looked up to find Y/N holding out a cup of coffee – his exact order from the cafe cart that had been set up for the crew.

"You seemed like you could use it," she explained, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Jin took the cup, trying to ignore how his fingers tingled where they brushed against hers. "How did you know my coffee order?"

A faint blush colored Y/N's cheeks. "I'm observant. It's part of my job."

"Right. Your job." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, a reminder of why he needed to maintain his distance.

Y/N lingered for a moment, as if wanting to say more. The late afternoon sun streaming through the set windows caught her face just so, making her eyes seem impossibly bright. Jin found himself holding his breath, caught in the moment.

"Y/N! Got a minute?" One of the crew members called out, breaking the spell.

"I should..." Y/N gestured vaguely in the crew member's direction.

"Right, yes. Of course." Jin straightened, rebuilding his walls. "Thank you for the coffee."

He watched her walk away, the coffee warming his hands but doing nothing for the cold knot in his chest.

"You know," Kyrie said, appearing beside him with her uncanny timing, "for someone who's supposed to be keeping his distance, you're doing a spectacularly bad job."

"Not now, Kyrie."

"I'm just saying." She leaned against the wall next to him. "Maybe if you told her the truth—"

"The truth?" Jin let out a hollow laugh. "Which truth would that be? That I'm involved in covering your secret relationship with Jungkook? That I'm supposed to be focusing on maintaining our public image but instead I can't stop thinking about—" He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"About her?" Kyrie finished softly.

Jin's silence was answer enough.

Later that evening, after most of the crew had left, Jin found himself lingering in his trailer. Through the window, he could see Y/N in her temporary office, illuminated by her laptop screen as she worked on her article. She looked tired, but determined, occasionally pausing to reference her notes or check something on her phone.

His own phone buzzed with a series of messages:

Kyrie: "Stop brooding and go home."

Jungkook: "Everything okay? Kyrie says you're being extra moody today."

Kyrie: "He's not moody, he's pining."

Jungkook: "Ah. The journalist again?"

Kyrie: "You should see him when she's around. It's actually kind of adorable."

Jin: "I can see these messages. This is a group chat."

Jungkook: "We know 😉"

Jin was about to type out a retort when movement caught his eye. Y/N was packing up her things, but seemed to be struggling with her laptop bag. Before he could think better of it, he was out of his trailer and halfway to her office.

"Let me help," he offered, reaching for the bag just as she turned around.

They ended up unnecessarily close, the bag trapped between them. Jin could smell her perfume – something light and floral that made his head spin.

"Oh! Mr. Kim—"

"Jin," he corrected automatically, then immediately regretted it. First names were dangerous territory.

"Jin," she repeated softly, and god, he was not prepared for how his name would sound in her voice. "I... actually wanted to ask you something."

His heart rate picked up. "Oh?"

"Yesterday, in the costume department... that phone call seemed intense." She hesitated, studying his reaction. "Is everything okay?"

The genuine concern in her voice made his chest ache. For a moment – one dangerous, tempting moment – he considered telling her everything. About the pressure of maintaining appearances, about the complicated relationship he shared with Kyrie and Jungkook, about how her presence was simultaneously the best and most terrifying thing to happen to him in years.

Instead, he took a careful step back. "Everything's fine. Just business." His voice came out colder than intended.

The hurt that flashed across Y/N's face felt like a physical blow. "Right. Of course. Well, good night... Mr. Kim."

The return to formality stung, but isn't this what he wanted? What he needed?

Back in his apartment that night, Jin lay awake staring at his phone. Y/N's contact information glowed on the screen – obtained for "professional purposes" only. His thumb hovered over the message field.

He wanted to apologize for being cold.

He wanted to ask what she thought of Jane Eyre.

He wanted to tell her that her coffee order was one sugar, no cream.

He wanted...

A text from Jungkook interrupted his thoughts: "Meeting tomorrow about the album rollout. Also, hyung? She looks at you too."

Jin pressed his face into his pillow with a groan. He was so, so screwed.

- The next few days on set became an elaborate dance of avoidance and inevitable collision. Every time Jin tried to maintain his professional distance, he'd find himself gravitating towards Y/N like she had her own magnetic field. And she wasn't making it any easier – not with the way she'd watch him during scenes with those analytical eyes that seemed to see right through him.

"You're doing it again," Kyrie whispered during another take of their ballroom scene.

"What?" Jin muttered, trying to focus on the steps.

"Looking at her like she's the only person in the room."

Jin nearly missed his next turn. "I am not—"

"Cut!" The director's voice rang out. "Jin, what's going on? You nailed this scene yesterday."

From her corner, Y/N glanced up from her notebook, her expression unreadable. Jin caught her eye for a brief moment before she quickly looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The simple reaction sent his heart into overdrive.

"Sorry," he called out to the director. "Let's go again."

During their break, Jin overheard two crew members talking:

"Have you noticed how the journalist looks at him when she thinks no one's watching?"

"Please, have you seen how he looks at her? The sexual tension is insane."

Jin's hand tightened around his coffee cup. He shouldn't care about their gossip. He shouldn't feel this flutter in his stomach at the thought of Y/N watching him. He definitely shouldn't want to know exactly how she looks at him when he's not looking back.

His phone buzzed:

Jungkook: "The album's almost ready. We need to be extra careful now." Kyrie: "Jin's a bit distracted lately..." Jungkook: "I noticed. The photos from set are... telling." Jin: "Can we focus on the actual issue here?" Kyrie: "Your crushing on the journalist IS an issue, babe." Jin: "I'm not crushing on anyone." Jungkook: "Sure, hyung. And I'm not the most successful soloist of the year 😏"

Jin shoved his phone away in frustration, only to look up and find Y/N approaching his spot by the refreshment table. She hesitated a few feet away, and he could see her mentally debating whether to continue forward or retreat.

"Ms. Y/N," he acknowledged, hating how formal it sounded.

"I was wondering if we could discuss the emotional progression of your character," she said, all professional despite the uncertainty in her eyes. "For the article."

Always for the article. The reminder was like a bucket of cold water.

"Of course," Jin replied, gesturing to a quiet corner of the set. As they walked, he noticed she kept a careful distance between them, as if afraid to get too close. He tried to ignore how much that hurt.

"Your scene today," she began, consulting her notes. "It seemed... different from yesterday's take."

"Different how?" He knew exactly how, but he wanted – needed – to hear her perspective.

Y/N bit her lip, a habit Jin had noticed she had when choosing her words carefully. "Less... controlled. More authentic, maybe? Like you were letting real emotions bleed through."

The accuracy of her observation made him want to laugh. Or cry. Or maybe both.

"Method acting," he deflected, offering his media-ready smile.

Y/N's eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't do method acting. You said so yourself in your interview with Vogue last month."

Of course she'd remember that. Of course she'd done her research. Of course she'd see right through his excuse.

"People change," he said weakly.

"Do they?" Her voice was soft, almost vulnerable. For a moment, neither of them was talking about acting anymore.

The air between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken words and carefully maintained boundaries threatening to crumble. Jin found himself leaning forward slightly, drawn in by the question in her eyes.

"Y/N..." His voice came out rougher than intended.

Her phone rang, shattering the moment. It was her editor, Yannie, requiring her immediate attention. Y/N practically fled, leaving Jin standing there with all the words he couldn't say stuck in his throat.

"That was painful to watch," Kyrie commented, appearing beside him with a sympathetic expression.

"Don't," Jin warned.

"You know, this would all be simpler if you just—"

"Nothing about this is simple," he cut her off. "Nothing about us – about any of this – is simple."

Kyrie's expression softened. "Maybe that's okay. Maybe it doesn't have to be simple to be right."

Before Jin could respond, a commotion near the costume department caught their attention. Someone had dropped a box of accessories, sending period-appropriate jewelry scattering across the floor. Without thinking, Jin moved to help, only to find himself reaching for the same necklace as Y/N.

Their hands brushed, sending electricity up his arm. Y/N jerked back as if burned, the necklace falling between them.

"Sorry," they both said simultaneously.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat. Jin turned to find one of the crew members holding up their phone, having clearly captured the moment on camera.

"Just for the behind-the-scenes documentation," they said with a knowing smile.

Jin felt the blood drain from his face. Y/N was already backing away, her professional mask firmly in place but her eyes betraying her panic.

His phone buzzed again:

Jungkook: "We might have a problem. Some photos are circulating..."

Jin looked at Y/N's retreating form, then at the message from Jungkook, then at Kyrie's concerned face. Everything was spinning out of control, and he had no idea how to stop it.

-

The headlines that morning were particularly nauseating:

"BRIDGERTON'S GOLDEN COUPLE: JIN AND KYRIE'S CHEMISTRY SIZZLES ON AND OFF SCREEN" "FROM PAGE TO PASSION: ARE JIN AND KYRIE BRINGING ROMANCE TO LIFE?" "COSTARS TO LOVERS? INSIDE JIN AND KYRIE'S INTIMATE SCENES"

Jin scrolled through his phone with growing unease, hyper-aware of Y/N's presence across the set. She was interviewing one of the costume designers, but he caught her glancing at the entertainment news headlines on her laptop. Each time she looked his way, her expression would become carefully blank – a journalist's poker face that made his chest ache.

"We need to play this up more," his manager informed him during their morning meeting. "The publicity is perfect for the show. I want you and Kyrie to be seen having lunch together. Maybe take a walk in the park where paparazzi just happen to be."

Jin's jaw clenched. "More staged photos?"

"Whatever it takes. The networks love this narrative."

Meanwhile, Kyrie was dealing with her own storm of emotions. Jin watched as she checked her phone for what had to be the hundredth time that morning, no doubt looking for messages from Jungkook that she couldn't publicly acknowledge.

"He understands," she whispered to Jin between takes. "But it's still hard."

"I know," Jin replied, equally quiet. They both watched as Y/N made notes in her journal, probably documenting their apparent closeness for her article.

The irony wasn't lost on him – everyone watching them, thinking they were witnessing a romance blooming, while the real story was completely different. Kyrie's heart belonged to Jungkook, and Jin's... well, his kept betraying him every time Y/N walked into a room.

"Ready for the love scene?" the director called out.

Jin felt rather than saw Y/N's head snap up at those words. He desperately wanted to look her way, to explain somehow that this wasn't what she might think, but he couldn't. Instead, he took his position with Kyrie, both of them professionals playing their parts.

"Big smile," Kyrie muttered through her teeth as cameras flashed from the approved behind-the-scenes photographers. "We're madly in love, remember?"

Jin smiled on cue, all too aware of Y/N watching them with those perceptive eyes of hers. He wondered what she saw – did she buy into the publicity narrative? Or did she sense something off, the way she seemed to sense everything about him?

His phone vibrated in his pocket:

Jungkook: "The photos of you two are everywhere. You're trending again." Kyrie: "I miss you." Jungkook: "Soon. Once the album drops..." Jin: "...This is the gc, little flirts"

But focusing became increasingly difficult as the day wore on. Every staged intimate moment with Kyrie felt like a betrayal – not just of Y/N, who kept her professional distance but couldn't quite hide the hurt in her eyes, but of the truth itself.

During their lunch break, which they were required to take together at a visible table, Kyrie sighed. "This is exhausting."

"Which part?" Jin asked, though he knew. All of it was exhausting – the pretense, the secrets, the careful dance of public perception.

"Jungkook saw the new photos," she said quietly. "The ones where we're 'gazing lovingly' at each other. He laughed it off, but..." She trailed off, staring at her untouched salad.

Jin understood. It was one thing to agree to this arrangement, another to watch the person you love being paired with someone else in the public eye.

"Y/N's watching us again," Kyrie noted, changing the subject. "She looks like she's trying to solve a puzzle."

"She's good at that," Jin muttered. "Too good."

"Maybe that's not a bad thing?" Kyrie suggested carefully. "If she figures it out—"

"She can't," Jin cut her off, even as his heart protested. "There's too much at stake. Your career, Jungkook's album launch, the show..."

"Your feelings for her?"

Jin didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes.

Later, during a scene break, Jin overheard Y/N interviewing Kyrie:

"Your chemistry with Jin seems very natural," Y/N said, her professional tone perfectly maintained despite the slight tension in her shoulders.

"Oh, you know how it is," Kyrie replied with a practiced laugh. "When you spend so much time with someone..." She let the implication hang in the air, playing her part perfectly.

Jin wanted to scream. Wanted to tell Y/N that none of it was real, that the person Kyrie's heart raced for was currently in a recording studio across town, that his own heart was currently doing somersaults just watching Y/N tuck her hair behind her ear as she took notes.

Instead, he walked over and placed a gentle hand on Kyrie's shoulder, just as they'd been instructed to do whenever cameras were around. "Ready for the next scene?"

He felt Y/N's eyes on them, saw the way she pressed her pen a little too hard against her notebook. The urge to explain himself was overwhelming.

His phone buzzed again:

Jungkook: "The album teaser drops next week. Everything has to be perfect until then." Kyrie: "I hate this." Jin: "Just a little longer. We can do this."

But looking at Y/N's carefully composed expression as she watched them play their parts, Jin wasn't so sure he could.

-

The next morning brought fresh hell in the form of a gossip column featuring candid shots from the garden scene. The photos were artfully arranged to tell a story of blooming romance between costars, complete with "inside source" quotes about Jin and Kyrie's off-screen chemistry.

Jin found Y/N in her makeshift office, the article prominently displayed on her laptop screen. She quickly switched tabs when she noticed him, but not before he caught sight of her browser history – she'd been researching his previous projects, interviews where he'd talked about dating, articles about method acting and on-screen chemistry.

"Good morning," she said, her voice carefully neutral. Professional. Distant.

"The articles are exaggerated," he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Y/N's eyebrows rose slightly. "I wasn't aware you owed me any explanations, Mr. Kim."

The formal address felt like a slap. "I don't," he agreed, hating how everything he said came out wrong. "I just..."

"Places, everyone!" The director's voice saved him from fumbling further. "Jin, we need you in costume!"

He lingered for a moment too long, watching Y/N return to her laptop, her shoulders tense. His phone buzzed:

Jungkook: "Music video filming starts next week. Everything needs to stay under wraps until then." Kyrie: "Just saw the gossip columns. 🙄 You okay?" Jin: "Define okay." Kyrie: "That bad, huh?"

The morning's scene was particularly challenging – a quiet moment between his character and Kyrie's, full of loaded glances and unspoken feelings. The irony wasn't lost on him that while everyone thought they were watching two actors falling in love, they were actually watching two friends trying to protect someone else's romance while his own heart was being pulled in a completely different direction.

"Cut!" The director called out. "Jin, you're supposed to be looking at Kyrie like she's your whole world, not glancing off-camera every five seconds!"

Jin's ears burned, knowing exactly who he'd been unconsciously looking for. Y/N was studiously taking notes, but he caught the slight flush on her cheeks. She'd noticed too.

During their break, Kyrie cornered him behind a set piece. "This is getting messier by the minute," she muttered.

"I'm handling it," Jin insisted.

"Are you? Because from where I'm standing, you're about five minutes away from either kissing that journalist or having a complete breakdown."

"I'm not—" Jin started to protest, but Kyrie cut him off.

"You literally brought her coffee this morning. Her exact order. And yesterday you snapped at a crew member for interrupting her interview. And don't even get me started on how you keep finding excuses to walk past her office."

"...Is it that obvious?"

"Only to everyone with eyes." Kyrie's expression softened. "Look, I get it. Trust me, I understand complicated feelings. But we need to be careful right now. Jungkook's album—"

"I know," Jin cut in. "I know, okay? The album, the show, our careers. I know what's at stake."

"Do you? Because every time she looks at you with those big questioning eyes of hers, you look about ready to spill every secret we have."

Before Jin could respond, they heard voices approaching:

"—just think there might be more to the story," Y/N was saying.

"Like what?" Another journalist's voice. "It's obvious they're together. The chemistry—"

"Seems practiced," Y/N cut in. "Almost... choreographed."

Jin's heart stopped. Beside him, Kyrie tensed.

"You're too cynical," the other journalist laughed. "Next you'll tell me you think it's all for publicity."

"I just think..." Y/N paused, and Jin could picture her biting her lip the way she did when choosing her words carefully. "I think there are layers here we're not seeing."

The voices faded as they passed, but the damage was done. She was getting too close to the truth.

Later that afternoon, following their manager's instructions, Jin and Kyrie had to do a "candid" walk through the set's garden, knowing photographers were stationed nearby. As they strolled, arm in arm, Jin caught sight of Y/N watching from her office window. Her expression was carefully blank, but he saw her hand tighten around her pen until her knuckles turned white.

"She's hurting," Kyrie whispered.

"So am I," Jin admitted quietly.

That evening, as most of the crew was packing up, Jin found himself drawn to Y/N's office again. She was alone, staring at her screen with unfocused eyes.

"The article's not going well?" he asked, trying for casual.

Y/N jumped slightly, then composed herself. "Actually, I'm looking at your old interviews. Trying to understand..."

"What?"

She turned to face him fully. "How someone so supposedly transparent in interviews can be hiding so much."

Jin felt the blood drain from his face. "I don't know what you—"

"Don't," she cut him off softly. "Please don't lie to me. Not again."

The plea in her voice undid him. For a moment, he wanted to tell her everything – about Jungkook and Kyrie's secret relationship, about the album collaboration, about how every staged romantic moment with Kyrie felt like a betrayal of not just the truth but of his growing feelings for Y/N.

Instead, he took a step back. "I should go."

"Jin," she called after him, dropping the formal address. He froze. "Whatever you're protecting... I hope it's worth all this."

He didn't turn around. Couldn't. If he looked at her now, he might break.

His phone buzzed one last time as he fled:Jungkook: "One more week. Just hold on for one more week." Kyrie: "We're losing him..." Jin: "I'm fine." Kyrie: "No, you're not. And neither is she."

[dinitride-art]

2, 13, 14, 26!!!!

2. What's your feel-good movie?

Spider man into the spider verse. It's pretty, has a great soundtrack and spiderman. OR the nightmare before christmas.

13. What's your comfort food?

...poutine.

14. Favourite feel good show?

Yuri on Ice. It was one of the first things I watched with queer characters in it but while still having a plot outside of that.

26. What movie would you want to live in?

If I could be a fish in Ponyo, happily swimming along, I think that would be a good time. (I realized halfway through that all of these are animated. And for children. Listen, the moving pictures fascinated me as a child. Uhhh, I'll try and think of one non-animated tv show or movie that would fit into one of these categories... Alice in Wonderland- where she gets a sword a like twelve different dress changes. Jeez that took a long time to think of)

[fading-event-608]

Help Falstin's family survive and escape genocide in Gaza and win hand-made Palestinian thob!

What can you win?

A Palestinian thob made by Palestinian hands, tailored for you. Thobes are traditional dresses worn in Palestine and are embroidered with tatreez patterns of various colors (usually mainly red) on black cloth - you can see the example in the poster.

Who will you help?

24 people trapped in Gaza who desperately need funds for their survival and evacuation. Falastin's family already has a lot of martyrs and they were displaced more than 20 times leaving them with very little possessions. It has been extremely hard for them to meet their basic needs, and they need all the help they can get to purchase food, water and medicine (which are incredibly expensive as there is very little aid entering Gaza) as well as shelter, fuel and clothing as it's getting cold.

Gofundme donation link

PayPal donation link

Please fill out this form after donating: https://forms.gle/1JPkqoab55bxC3iS8

More detailed info under the cut:

We accept both PayPal and Gofundme donations: 50 USD for one PayPal entry; 500 SEK for one Gofundme entry (500 SEK is around 47 USD so it's a slight discount!)

Only donations done after the raffle start (October 19th, since making this post) will count for entries. Additionally, every three weeks starting from today, one winner will be chosen and all entries for that period will be reset. The winner will be given 48 hours to respond and if they do not then we will choose another one from that time period.

Dates for raffle resets:

1) 9th of November - first winner 2) 30th of November - second winner 3) 21st of December - third winner

The winner announcement will be done on those Saturdays at 15:00 (3 PM) GMT (that's 10 AM EST).

Right now we are a little over 12k USD (counting both PayPal and Gofundme) but most of it came in the last several weeks. So we aim to get another 12k USD/126k SEK (again both PayPal and Gofundme) by the end of the first raffle round.

You can enter as many times as you want and can stack entries over time (so one 2000 SEK donation will be 4 entries, or two donations 75 USD and 25 USD will count as 2 entries). Because there will be 3 rotations, if your donations fall short of the minimum donation in the first/second rounds, you can still qualify for the next until your total exceeds the entry cost. For example, if you donated 40 USD in the first rotation you will not enter the first raffle round but can still enter second one if you donate another 10 USD. Another example: if you donated 120 USD in the first time period you can donate another 30 in the next one for one entry. You can enter second or third time even if you won previously.

After you have made the donation(s) required for at least one entry you need to fill out the form: [link]. You will be asked to provide a proof of your donation, your email address (or discord handle) and (optionally) Tumblr/Instagram username. An email address or Discord is required for contact purposes, as there is a possibility that either me of Falastin could be restricted or suspended on Tumblr, but we will contact you on your preferred platform if we can.

One thob will roughly take 3 weeks to complete so please be patient - you will be contacted by your preferred method for any questions after you won and when the shipment starts.

Shipment is covered for Europe, but if you are living outside of that region you will need to cover the shipment cost yourself.

You also need to be comfortable with sharing following info with us privately if if you win the raffle:

address and name for the shipment;

your measures or general size (S, M, L, etc) for tailoring.

You can ask any questions me here on Tumblr or send an email to fadingevent608@proton.me.

Vetting info: #282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here], #957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [here] Falastin's account: [link]

Donation links again:

GOFUNDME:

PAYPAL:

[saturngas]

him getting hard at you yelling at him

[🪐] the kyoto exchange event is soon and your husband has been meeting up a lot with a coworker. you get a bit jealous, not aware that your husband may have a thing with that

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: a bit angsty at the beginning, suggestive, not really smut

warnings: established relationship; jealousy; possessiveness; boners; a bit of toxicity; idk if this is super canon but some scenarios are from the jjk game phantom parade;

word count: 2.9k

..

this is stupid right? you know your husband has a natural charm that is often misinterpreted as annoying and obnoxious. not everyone is prepared to receive all that satoru gojo has to offer, only a few people have dared to try to keep up with him, including yourself.

and you knew his coworkers weren't really... fond of him.

so why were you all of the sudden so bothered by him going out so much with his female coworker utahime?

the sister school exchange event was happening soon, in two weeks to be more precise. you were a former sorcerer yourself, though you weren't really involved in the education regarding the sorcery school; so this event was more of satoru's business, you were only required to be present during the group combat.

"sweet cheeks, im going out with nanami! just to discuss things about the exchange event." he had said one day. you wished him good luck with no negative thought in mind.

"baby, Nanami wasn't of much help, so now I have to go talk with utahime." he pouted. and you paid no mind. it was known to almost every breathing being that utahime wasn't confortable around satoru, even as going to telling him to leave her alone. that has being their relationship since satoru was in high school, him often disrespecting her authority and status as a sorcerer, and her just chastising him as his former senior.

so why were you so troubled if you knew this about them? well probably them going out three times this week stirred a nerve.

it's because the exchange event. you kept telling yourself, but you couldn't avoid the venomous feeling of jealousy. which was an actual insult to your relationship with satoru, who had never given you reasons to doubt him, on the contrary, he often showers you with infinite love and words of affirmation that only fulfill your love for him.

but hasn't utahime grow tired of him already? you questioned deeply. she was his number one despiser. being with satoru for only ten minutes aged her ten years. you were incredulous she was lasted so much around your husband. even if it was work-related.

it was a Friday. your husband visited his female coworker twice this week, this day being the third encounter. he hadn't told you where, though you were sure he would have told you if you were to ask him. but you didn't. it was your untouched pride that had stopped you from that. not wanting to make your jealousy public. you were certain of the endless teasing satoru would treat you with.

you were alone in your shared house. it was actually your day off. day you had planned to spend it with your silly spouse, before his phone buzzed and he announced his meeting with utahime. it would be a lie to say you weren't upset.

"take care, toru. and please come back soon." your farewell felt bittersweet, bitter to you, sweet to satoru. his obliviousness about the hurricane going inside your core was only contributing to your indignation.

as you turned on the tv in front of you, you tried brushing off the corrosive sensations that came within the recap of the events occurred this week. the remote seemed to have a mind of its own as you picked some random show absentmindedly, just something to cloud your head.

utahime was actually a nice and proper woman. she has always being respectful to you and only occasionally made discrete comments about your relationship with satoru, questioning amusingly how you put up with him. she was obviously no harm, even less to your husband.

perhaps it was your primal instincts that were responsible of your disapproval of them going out so much. you weren't exactly the jealous type. okay, maybe you were fussing too much over this situation.

the tv show actually completed its purpose and distracted you effectively. your mind now wondering how the main character was going to open up his own jazz club.

the door opening startled you slightly, turning your head immediately to see the person you had been missing the whole evening. satoru kicked off his shoes at the entrance as he stepped closer to you, a hand running through his snowy hair and taking off his rectangular glasses.

"oh baby, you should have seen utahime! she is so bad at playing baseball even though she's a fan of it!"

what a fucking dumbass. your eyes full of love threatened to turn wicked at such comment. so he went to play baseball with her?! it wasn't work-related?!

"what do you mean, satoru?" your tone wasn't the kindest. "I thought you went out to talk over the final details about the exchange event."

"oh, that," satoru was now aware of your little irritation, your evident pitch of voice made sure of that. "yeah it is very important for the event, baby!"

"how so?" exasperation was written all over your face, making story wince a bit. you lifted yourself up from the couch to face him.

"do you really want me to tell you? I mean, I wanted it to be a surprise for the studen—"

"what could possibly be a surprise, satoru?!" you snapped. the first two thirds of his sentence infuriated you so much you didn't even listen to his last words. "you going out three times with utahime this week was definitely a suprise for me."

his baby blue eyes were as wide as plates. he didn't expect you to yell at him over this. and for some reason, he felt himself warmer.

"and, and now—" red was coating your face, endless frustration ready to be busted in forms of hurtful words and angry glances. "and now you're telling me you were playing baseball with her?! and expect me to be all okay with that? what kind of work-related stuff requires two coworkers to go out and play baseball alone?"

satoru was in a state of awe at first, his face displaying the shock your exposed irritation caused him. but his bad habit of fixing situations with comedy and witty remarks had entered the scene. it would have normally calmed you down, if it wasn't for the pent up frustration that was on the picture.

"oh~ so you were jelly~?" he sent you a wink, his lanky body getting closer to yours by instinct. "don't worry baby. I have eyes only for yo—" wrong move.

"how could you joke about this, satoru?!" your loud words stirred something inside him, something that should not be stirred nor awaken during these moments. "im here trying to tell you how I feel and you just— you just joke arou—" your words were fading away in his hearing. your red face and glassy eyes only on his mind. oh how pretty you looked when you were angry, especially when you were yelling at him. a wicked part of satoru was glad your undivided attention was on him, even if it was you snapping at him. your overly licked lips were moving furiously as you cried out your thoughts.

"and now you are spacing out!" you snapped your fingers in front of him. satoru's mind went back to the scenario occurring in the living room.

"baby, you have literally nothing to worry abo—"

"stop talking and let me finish."

oh no. he loved you and hated you for that. satoru fell in love hard for your personality, admiring how you never left anyone cut your words. you always stood for yourself, shouting your thoughts in a confident voice. and in a world still ruled by men such as the sorcery world, that was very hard to achieve. but oh how he hated that exact same admiration for your courage became warm enthusiasm—lust—in a couple of seconds. your sharp tone kindled his core, feeling his pants a bit tighter in the front.

not now please... he cursed in the back of his head. you were already cooking him, a visible boner would be the death for him. a reasonable motive to make him sleep in the couch and put him in a sex—or even touch, if you were feeling sinister—ban.

"i don't like it when you joke when I tell you about my feelings," there it was again, that stern voice he loved so much, though he cursed it at the moment. "I also don't like it when you go out too much with utahime."

if you only knew you were making him hard as hell from yelling at him you wouldn't even have to worry about his female friends.

"is that understood, satoru?" you lifted one single finger to emphasize your point even more. that little habit of yours, along with placing a hand on your hip and slightly wobbling your head, was going to be his final straw.

"yeah, of course baby." he breathed, sending you an apologetic look. "can we go to bed, already? I need cuddles."

you shot him an unamused glare. uh maybe you weren't done. satoru could feel his hot skin sticking to his clothes thanks to his sweat. you held so much power over the strongest.

"why were you playing baseball with her?"

"baby it wasn't anything of the sort!" he said agitated. "you know that after the group combat usually comes the individual combats, and I just know yuji will be in danger," you nodded at his words. that was true. satoru had told you a few days before he suspected of someone plotting against the young sorcerer. "so I wanted to change the routine and make it about something fun, you know? something harmless, like some sport the kids will enjoy."

your heart actually softened at his explanation. satoru's priorities embraced the security of the youth, especially that of the newest first-year student, which was often at jeopardy.

however, that explained nothing.

"what does that have to do with you going out with—"

satoru cut your words, and flinched slightly at the way your eyes narrowed and your brow curled up. "I couldn't come up with something myself, so I asked nanami and utahime to go out to play a sport they liked. of course I couldn't tell them what I was plotting," his hands motioned to himself. "nanami took me to bowling, I liked it, but then I thought it wouldn't be a good idea especially for yuji and maki, you know how they are." you nodded. "and then utahime took me to a baseball simulator, and it was all perfect!" he said enthusiastically, lifting his long arms in victory. he was feeling so hot his forehead was shining with sweat. it was becoming harder and harder to contain his boner. the last thing he wanted was to nut mid-explanation.

you widened your eyes in both wonder and confusion.

"no! i mean—," he panicked "it was all perfect because the game was perfect for the kids. not that it was perfect to go out with her!" your husband tried to save himself.

an unannounced sighed left your lips. you were still glaring at him, and even though satoru was a foot taller than you, you were making him a bit too much nervous.

—that and the fact that his stiff boner was still present, only softening lightly when he panicked at your misunderstanding. his little friend was eager for you to yell at him as well.

"am i forgiven now?" he battled his long white lashes to you, giving you the babiest of looks, deeply hoping you would end this silly discussion and take care of him.

"mmm..." a finger rubbed your chin as you pondered about it. "I don't know, satoru," he deflated in front of you. "why didn't you ask me for help? you know I like sports too."

"of course I thought about you, pookie! you were the first person I considered" a pout adorned his pretty face as his long arms attempted to hug you, only for you to step back. "please don't do that, im gonna start crying."

"answer the question satoru."

"it's just that you were so busy with work I genuinely didn't want to disturb you more."

it was true. even though you were not a teacher at the school, the exchange event also demanded you of your time, your main concerns being completing and getting the arrangements ready, especially with the higher ups—the part satoru disliked the most—, and making the them believe sukuna's vessel was still dead.

"but it could have been just a simple question, satoru." there you were again with that rigid tone of yours. haven't you noticed satoru is all red faced and his cock is starting to ache? of course not, because you hate him, right?

"I know baby~" a whine left his mouth, eyes pleading you two could just cuddle and maybe, just maybe, you could stroke him a bit. "but you were very, very, very stressed, I really didn't want to put another burden on you. you would often come very tense after a meeting with the higher ups."

you huffed. well, you guessed you could give that to satoru. but it still hurt he didn't even ask you the simple question, or even explaining to you his little plan. he was certain you wouldn't object.

"okay, satoru," the tall man's ears spiked at your words. ready to say yes to your proposal to cuddling. "I still need some time to cool down. so I'll go to bed." your feet dragged you to the hallway after you turned off the tv, satoru following you behind. "no," you lifted your palm toward him, stopping him. "you sleep in the couch."

"but whyyy?"

"because you didn't tell me sooner about all this! and because im still mad at you."

satoru let out a dramatic puff, blowing raspberries. he grabbed quickly his things and prepared himself for a lonely night. the disappointment from not sleeping next to you dissipated his boner.

the next day you actually didn't see each other until night. satoru had to attend a clan meeting while you met with the directors of both sorcery schools to go over all the remaining affairs.

exhaustion drew all over your face as you entered your house, a recently cooked meal aroma invading your nostrils. your feet pulled you toward the exquisite scent with little resistance. the view of your tall husband hovering over the stove welcomed you.

"hey pookie boo," satoru said excitedly as he stirred whatever he was making. tapping the utensil away before invading your personal space. "how was your meeting with the directors? they weren't rude to you, were they?" he smiled as he enveloped you in a affective hug. you hadn't forgotten about his little game from last night, but you would be lying to yourself if you admit you hadn't missed his warmth.

"it was fine, very tiring," you looked at him with tired eyes, making his heart do several jumps at your cuteness. "they made me go over all the details about the curses they will release, discussing if they were the appropriate levels for the students."

"oh poor you~" he sang. "let me feed you fully and then we can go to bed and have a well deserved sleep," he was trying to get away.

"hey!" you yelped. satoru felt his dick stir and enlarge. "don't think I haven't forgotten about last night," a stern pitch adorned your voice.

"baby, please," he whined, "if you knew what you do to me, you wouldn't be like this," he hinted silently to the ache between his legs. "what do you want me to do to—"

"satoru," a shiver danced along his spine at the sound of his name rolling from your lips. "I want you to only look at me," you don't know what roamed through your being, but a sudden urge of claiming him took over you. your bottled up feelings from last night revealing themselves. perhaps the heat of the moment didn't let you communicate your darkest desires.

your smaller frame was still held captive by his heavy arms. you lifted your arms to surround his neck, bringing him closer to you, chest to chest. satoru left you handle him as you pleased. he caressed your waist as you stared up at him, darkness painting itself over your irises, your gloomy gaze contributing to the tightening feeling of his pants, his present hard-on sharpening his breathing.

"i want your to only look at me," a twitch inside his pants.

"i want you to give me your full attention," a throb.

"i want you to only think of me," a pulse.

"you are mine, satoru, and as far as I know, im yours. so don't you ever forget that." the white haired sorcerer could bet his underwear was damp from his leaking. why were you like this?

you nuzzled your nose against his, before giving his lips a chaste kiss. "baby you are so hot when you are toxic like that." you chuckled lightly at his words, brushing your fingers along the short hairs of his undercut. you swear you could hear him purr.

"toru don't romanticize this side of me or I'll be more toxic than the elephant's foot." satoru gave your butt a little squeeze before bringing one hand up to play with your cheek, squeezing it as well, before leaving a soft peck on it. his lips then moved to yours, sharing a long and passionate kiss with you. oh how much he missed your touch.

"baby would you get mad at me if I tell you I was hard as a rock when you were yelling at me last night? no one has that power over me."

"what"

[theprissythumbelina]

So you want to write about horses.

Part 2 now out!

Or you're writing and horses show up. Or its a pre-industrial fantasy and your characters have to get somewhere. Or you have a faint idea of your MC's love interest showing up on a white stallion.

Whatever the cause, you're writing, and a horse appears. But you know nothing about horses. I can help.

This is a horse. Horses come in many sizes.

^ Big Jake, a Belgian Draft horse, and a roughly 5 foot woman for scale.

1 hand = 4 inches = 10.16 cm

Once a horse is smaller than about 14.2hh, it is generally considered a pony. In the modern day, ponies are not considered suitable for adult riders due to weight and height issues. Some pony breeds, such as Welsh, Fjords, ect. are known for being sturdy, and can more easily carry adult sized humans. Miniature horses should never be ridden by adults.

^The only suitable 'riding' a miniature horse should do

The above graphic mentions that horses are measured from the top of the withers, not the top of the head. But, what are withers?

The withers are where the horse's shoulders meet the spine, and the neck becomes the back. Withers are incredibly important for saddle placement, as a badly placed saddle in this area can prevent a horse from moving its legs properly, cause a large amount of pain, and even damage a horse's spine. Speaking of spines, this is a horse skeleton, with the withers pointed out.

Horses have four legs. Horses cannot have any fewer than four legs. They are obligate quadrupeds. This is, in part, due to their weight, as well as the construction of their legs and hooves. This is to say, that while cats, dogs, and other animals can be amputees, a horse, short of some incredible magic solution, cannot. Even a broken leg bone will cause a huge amount of problems, as all of the weight that leg would usually hold must be shifted to the other feet, and this causes a condition called laminitis, where the tissue that holds together the hoof and the toe bone becomes inflamed, and begins to separate. Once this happens, the hoof tissue dies from lack of blood, and the bone begins to rotate. This is extremely painful for the horse, and so often the best solution for a horse with a broken leg is to be spared that pain. Famous American racehorse Barbaro experienced a complex broken bone, which began to heal fine, but complications from laminitis in two of his other legs caused him to be put down. This is why media will almost always show a horse with a broken or injured leg being 'taken care of'.

^Barbaro, in his prime. Even the best veterinary medicine couldn't save him.

Now, racehorses like Barbaro are moving at the fastest speed and the fastest gait of the horse, the gallop. The patterns that horses move their feet are referred to as gaits, with most horses having four, with some breeds having five or more.

The first gait and the slowest is the walk. In the walk, all four feet move independently, which leads it to be called a four-beat gait, as the footfalls make a sort of drumbeat on the ground.

The next gait is the trot, a two beat gait with diagonal pairs of legs moving together.

^Diagonal pairs marked in red and blue

The trot is a very bouncy experience for the rider, and can be uncomfortable. Some riders will rise and fall with a pair of diagonal legs, called a posting trot, some will stand in their stirrups, called a two-point or jump position, and some will sit the trot, which requires a lot of core strength (seriously, if you want a strong core, screw the gym)

The third gait is the canter, a three-beat gait with a single diagonal pair. This gait is ridden sitting, and feels a lot like going over waves on a jetski. There is a rise, a scoop, and a fall feeling. The canter is also called a lope in Western riding, they are the same gait.

^diagonal pair marked in red

A gallop is sometimes considered a variation on canter, as it is similar save for the legs actually moving in a four-beat pattern. As you can see with the image of Barbaro, all four of his feet are moving in different patterns, at different times, even though the gallop is really a four beat version of the canter. Riders in the gallop rise off the horse's back into a raised position, which allows the horse to use the full length of its spine and musculature to get as much reach and speed as possible. It feels like riding on top of a train barreling down the tracks, at least until your horse takes an unexpected turn and the ground is suddenly the only thing you're riding.

^ I've been there. The trick is to push away and hit the ground rolling, it hurts less that way. And don't land on your head.

That's all for this post. I'll have more when I feel like it, and send me questions if you want to know more about specific things or need a writing question answered

Reblogs welcome and encouraged

@jacqueswriteblrlibrary for wider reach

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Hear Me Out, Keep Me Guessing

Steddie || wc: 2.5k || rating: T || tags: alternate first meeting, pre-S4, Eddie is a rollercoaster of emotions, Steve is over it, fluff and flirting || ao3

Inspired by my own post

☆☆☆

“Okay, Munson. What’s your fucking problem?”

Eddie hops on top of the wooden picnic bench to gain a slight height advantage over whoever’s decided to fuck up his day, when he spots none other than Steve Harrington headed towards him through the trees, fighting his way through brush and bramble.

“Well, well, well. How the mighty have fallen. Crawling through the dirt just to visit his former court jester.” Eddie smirks, hears Harrington mutter something under his breath that sounds a lot like jesus christ before he finally makes his way over.

Harrington’s looking up at him, squinting into the sunlight, and Eddie’s slightly repelled by his sudden desire to run a hand through King Steve’s hair. It shines in the sunlight, matching the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

Eddie takes a step to the left, casting him back into shadow again where he’s just his normal, asshole self and not the angelic image Eddie conjured from his horny, queer little brain.

He can’t remember if it’s his turn to talk or Harrington’s, but it seems the King’s lost the plot as well. Completely zoned out, he’s just standing there staring up at Eddie, mouth dropped open and eyes wide in a way Eddie will certainly not be thinking about later tonight. Absolutely not.

Eddie coughs. Loud and obnoxious enough to break whatever trance they’ve found themselves in. Harrington awkwardly chuckles, running a hand through his hair. An image of Steve leaning against lockers, towering over a girl with heat in his eyes and a hand in his hair floods Eddie’s brain before he can shake it out like an Etch A Sketch. What the fuck is even happening to him?

“Yeah, Munson. Like, what the hell is your problem?” It lacks punch and drama the second time around, but it gets them back on track. Harrington props his hands on his hips, his lip juts out into a tiny pout, and Eddie wonders if he thinks standing like a disappointed mom is effective in getting what he wants, or if being adorable just comes naturally to the former King.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my liege.” He watches as Harrington brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and he makes a mental note to develop a better, more refined taste in men.

“The kids, man. Why aren’t you friends with the kids?”

“Kids? What the hell– what kids?” He hops down from the table. If this is going to be a legitimate conversation and not a shake down, he figures it’ll be easier on even footing. Harrington takes the seat opposite him, his shoe accidentally knocking Eddie’s ankle.

Steve doesn’t move his foot. Neither does Eddie.

“My kids, man. They said they tried talking to you all week and you wouldn’t even hear them out!”

Eddie watches his fingers tap absently on the table top. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, and it’s shocking that Eddie is just now realizing that Steve’s actually anxious. Normally Eddie considers himself better at reading people, when he’s not distracted with puffy, pink lips and a confusing line of conversation.

He looks down, rewinding the past week. He’d made it through his first week of his third senior year without anyone getting in his face. Maybe he’s old enough now that even asshole seniors like Jason Carver have decided to leave him alone. Thankfully it seems the offer also extends to Gareth, Kenny, and Jeff, who’ve only reported minor name calling and a light shove.

That’s where he spots them, stops the tape midway through lunch on Wednesday when a group of three freshmen approached the table. He’d spotted the curly-haired kid earlier in the week, bravely decked out in a Weird Al shirt and a hat from some science camp. The kid was enough of a freak to earn free admission to Hellfire, but the other two required a bit more thought.

Eddie clocked Little Wheeler through the station wagon window Monday morning when he’d cut Nancy off in the parking lot. The kid seemed alright, but with a priss like Nancy as a sister, it was a tough call. The other kid seemed a bit too sporty, and a little too interested in basketball tryouts.

When the three amigos started talking DnD, the guys invited them with open arms. It was a relatively peaceful lunch. Exciting even, at the prospect of adding new members to their campaign. They’d mentioned trying to convince a few of their friends to play. A girl named Max Mayfield, who turns out lives a few trailers down from Eddie.

But when the curly-haired kid mentioned Steve Harrington, the Hellfire boys clammed up tighter than nun’s ass. His named dripped from their mouths like it was covered in gold, the hero-worship rotting them from the inside and Eddie wouldn’t stand for it. No true freaks would stand to be friends with an asshole bully like King Steve.

Of course the freshies tried to argue, saying he’d changed. It didn’t matter to the Hellfire boys. Clearly the freshmen were corrupted, and they couldn’t be trusted. So he’d sent them on their way, and the three of them posted up in the corner of the lunchroom every day since. Far away from jocks and freaks alike.

Now, Eddie looks across the table and sees false bravado slathered over the anxiety etched into the former King’s face. He doesn’t know how three freshmen freaks found themselves under the wing of Steve Harrington, but it seems the feeling is mutual. Steve cares about these kids.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I remember them. What’s it to you, Harrington? Aren’t they a little too old for a babysitter.” The joke falls flat when Steve sighs, heavy and exhausted, like somehow a rich boy from the Loch carries the entire world on his shoulders.

But he plays it off, trying to meet Eddie’s quip halfway. “Babysitters get paid, dude. I do it from the goodness of my heart or some shit.” Steve leans back, scrubs his hands over his face like he can erase whatever’s behind his eyes.

Eddie stares at him, hoping to catch a glimpse. The only consolation is Steve puts his other foot on the opposite side of Eddie’s, his ankle now fully cradled between Steve’s.

“They’re nerds, man.” Harrington states it like it’s a fact and not an insult he’s hurled at Eddie a hundred times over the years. “They’re freaks, you know– like you.”

Moment officially broken, Eddie scoffs, pushing away from the table wondering why he ever entertained talking with Harrington in the first place. As he grabs his lunchbox off the forest floor, he hears shuffling behind him.

“Wait,” Harrington shouts. “Just, fuck man, can you just let me finish?”

“Finish what, exactly?” Eddie snaps, whirling around to crowd into his space. He wears big and scary like how the King wears his crown and how assassins wield their blades. With enough power and confidence to scare off any enemy. “Finish listening to you shit on the little guy? Listen to you harp on the freaks of the world, or how you corrupted your little pions?”

“What?” Steve asks, lips pursed and eyebrows scrunched. Eddie’s not surprised his jock-rattled brain couldn’t find that word in its very limited dictionary, but what does surprise him is that Steve doesn’t back down. They’re practically nose to nose, so close Eddie can spot a small freckle on his lash-line, and Steve’s standing here like he doesn't have a care in the world while Eddie screams in his face.

It’s quiet again. He can hear the rustle of tall grass and birds overhead. He can feel Steve’s breath on his lips and Eddie can’t remember what they were talking about. Again.

Steve grabs his shoulders, and in his daze, Eddie lets himself be maneuvered back to sitting at the picnic table, while Steve stands in front of him.

“Are you always big and loud and obnoxious? Can you just cut the shit for like, five minutes so we can have a normal fucking conversation. Jesus christ, you’re practically perfect for them.” The last part is quieter, seems more like an unfiltered afterthought.

“Ok,” Eddie says. If Steve’s willing to take the crown off long enough to talk with Eddie, then maybe he can shed his own metaphorical battle vest. “Say what you have to say, then.”

Steve clears his throat, shuffles slightly as he gains his footing. He looks at Eddie with a determined set to his shoulders.

“Henderson, Sinclair, and even Wheeler– they’re my kids. I’ve spent the last nine months watching out for those little shits because all they’re good at is getting into the worst kinds of trouble.” Eddie tracks him as Steve paces the forest floor, rambling and raking a hand through his hair like it helps him think. “But I remembered you didn’t graduate, right? And you run that Dungeons and Dragons club–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Eddie interrupts. Steve stops, turns to face him, and shoots him the bitchiest glare Eddie’s ever seen, but before he can say anything, Eddie pushes on. “You, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, leader of meatheads and bimbos alike, know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

Steve sighs, hands back on his hips as he rolls his eyes. “Ha ha, Munson. Don’t worry it’s all against my will, okay? I’m not coming to steal your freaks and weirdos so I can lead them too.” He smirks, and it pulls a laugh out of Eddie, shocked that Steve’s willing to joke around with Eddie at all, let alone when it’s at his own expense.

“Now, quit interrupting me, you’re as bad as Henderson.”

Eddie mimes zipping his lips closed, only to open his mouth to swallow the imaginary key. Butterflies explode in his chest at the sound of Steve laughter, and Eddie wonders if bashing his head into a tree would be a decent excuse to explain the red flush erupting on his face.

“Anyways,” Steve chuckles. “They’re smart as shit but don’t know when to give something up just to get out of a fight. I’m surprised they haven’t gotten their asses handed to them already, and everyday I pick them up all I'm thinking about is which one of them I’m gonna have to stitch up. Sure, some of the guys in the grade below were alright, like Andy. But guys like Hargrove, like Carver.” Eddie can practically see the dark cloud form over Steve’s brow.

He remembers as well as anyone the fallout of Harrington v Hargrove, Fall 1985. There’d been endless rumors about what happened, each one more ridiculous than the last. Now he’s left wondering if it’s not really about Nancy, or drugs, or Billy fucking Steve’s mom, but about these kids. The timing checks out, nine months on babysitting duties lines up pretty well with when Steve showed up to school beaten and broken.

Maybe Steve isn’t all he seems to be.

“Guys like Carver won’t mess with you. They’re too scared you’re using DnD to worship the devil and get kids into sodomy and drugs and shit like that. I told them that you’d be cool. That you’re big and loud, that you play DnD like them. You're smart and you read the same nerdy books. I told them they’d be safe with you, man.” Steve rubs his face again, until his hands fall to the sides and he tilts his head up towards the sky. “I just need to know someone’s looking out for them. Please, Eddie, just–”

“Okay.”

Steve’s attention snaps back to him, relief written plain as day in the wide set of his smile. “You’re serious?”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. He’s not sure he’s ever seen Steve smile so unguarded, and never aimed his way. The sheer brightness of it fills him with warmth he wants to wrap himself up in.

All on top of the fact Eddie's never gotten this many compliments from anyone before, let alone from a guy as gorgeous as Steve Harrington. His ears are practically on fire.

“Yeah, Harrington. I’ll share custody of your little nuggets.” Before he knows what’s coming, Steve sweeps him up into a hug, lifts him fully off the ground and can feel the tinkling of his laughter on the shell of his ear.

“Thanks, Munson. Damn, you have no idea how freaked out I’ve–”

“What about the other stuff?” Eddie can’t stop himself from asking. He has to know, deep in his bones, that Steve is thinking this through. That Steve won’t change his mind in a few days or months and decide it’s time for Eddie Munson to eat dirt.

He lets Eddie go, but holds his shoulders at arms length to look him in the eye. Any lingering mirth has been replaced with intent curiosity. “What stuff, Munson?”

He can tell by Steve’s tone they’re both talking about the same thing. Rumors that’ve haunted Eddie since eighth grade after Davey Richardson beat him up under the bleachers. It didn’t matter that Davey kissed him first, all that mattered was he was popular and Eddie was weird.

He’d grown numb to the slurs over the years, but how could he forget hearing the reason why Byers beat the shit out of King Steve. The only surprise from that fight was it sounded like he never even tried to fight back.

“Harrington, if I don’t get to act loud and obnoxious, then you don’t get to play dumb.” The intensity of Steve’s stare reminds him of the few conversations he’d had with Chief Hopper before he’d died. The man could tear Eddie down to the bones with one glare, and he’s sure it’s the only reason the Chief brought him back to the trailer instead of a jail cell.

“Eddie,” Steve says, tone firm, “I’m not that guy anymore. I don’t care about the shit people say, especially self-righteous assholes like Carver. The only thing I give a shit about is you watching over the little gremlins and not selling them drugs, so I can breathe easier when I don't have eyes on them.”

Steve shakes him lightly, like it’ll sift this world-changing view into his brain, then pats his shoulder as he passes by him.

“Wait,” Eddie shouts, always a glutton for punishment. He spins around to catch Steve walking backwards away from him, hands in his pockets, effortlessly cool. The sun’s catching his hair again and there’s a smirk on his lips. “You really don’t care?”

Steve laughs, taking a step back. He chews on his bottom lip, and he smiles when he catches Eddie looking. Because he knows. Steve knows now, before Jeff or Wayne or anyone else.

“Eddie, whoever you decide to love or fuck– or not– is none of my business.” He turns to leave, and as Eddie relaxes he hears Steve call out, “unless you want it to be.”

Steve’s light laughter follows him out of the woods, and Eddie plops himself down in the same spot on the same wooden bench in the exact same forest as he always does every Friday after school. Except a twenty minute conversation with Steve Harrington leaves Eddie feeling like his world's been turned upside down.

Maybe ‘86 will be his year, after all.

[clip-the-simp]

A Long Days Work

Ao3 Master list

Pairing: Logan Howlett // Wolverine x mutant!fem!reader

Word count: 4,572

Cw: slight proofreading, language, alcohol, injury, jealousy, harassment, pet names in replace of y/n

Summary: After a long day of tending to children’s bumps and bruises Logan takes you out for drinks.

A/N: This wasn’t meant to take as long as it did but oh well. Hopefully the next part won’t take as long to put out.

It had been a longer day than most. It had started off like usual, made your rounds to students who required their medications, and checked up with a few who had gotten a cold to make sure they were doing well. However, after the routinely quiet morning all hell broke loose and set the tone for the work day.

Three of the older students had decided to test and see who was the most durable out of the group. Even though their mutations weren’t that of indestructible skin or accelerated healing, they still wanted to test their luck. And test they did, which only landed all of them in your office. The teens all looked embarrassed as they walked in looking worse for wear.

One of the boys had the ability to shoot knife-like plates of metal from his hands. He came away with a few scratches from missed shots that had been aimed at the second boy. The second had the ability to fly, but he ended up with scraped palms along with a sprained wrist from falling out of the air. However, the third boy, the mastermind of the operation, had received the worst of it.

You had patched up the other two and sent them on their way to the Professor's office so your focus was solely on the third teen. He had the ability to shift his flesh into any organic matter he pleased. Unfortunately he didn’t have control of the mutant down yet. So when a few blades came for him, instead of summoning metal over his skin, he had replaced the flesh with tree bark. That unfortunately only allowed the blades to sink in deeper.

If he tried to shift out of that form the blades would proceed to bleed him out with where they were lodged. So you had to think of a plan to keep him from losing too much blood but also consolidate your power as to not over exert yourself. Sure, keeping the kid alive was a priority, but if you passed out during the healing process you wouldn’t be of any use. With the cuts being so deep it would take a lot out of you to heal them fully. So you decided to heal the boy only enough to require stitches. Plan then made, you brought his attention back to you.

“You’re going to have to stay in this form while I take the blades out, ok?” Your tone was as soft as you could manage. It was understandable that things like this happened at the institut, but it still irked you that most kids didn’t have common sense.

“I’ll heal you enough that you’ll only require stitches. But it’ll take me time to do.” You informed him to which he nodded in understanding. A reassuring smile crossing your face.

“Yes Ma’am.” He said in a weak voice, his eyes never meeting yours as he continued to look at the ground. There was a shake to his response, his desire to not cry in front of you kept him from looking up.

The plan went off without a hitch for the majority of the work. Each blade had been taken out carefully and each gash had healed evenly enough with your powers to simply stitch the wounds shut. However when it came time for the stitches the teen had to shift back. The fear that radiated off him was almost tangible as he tried to convince you to simply heal him the rest of the way. And when that didn’t work he tried to insist that wood could be stitched.

Eventually you had calmed and reassured him enough that he would be fine. If anything major did happen you would take care of it. With him reassured he returned to flesh which he quickly realized hurt a lot more. You managed to keep him still in order to stitch him up quickly but once it was over you still had to send him to the Professor.

Now drained you realized you still had several hours before you were off duty. And the rest of the day was no less uneventful. Several more students came by with various injuries. Most were unintentional self inflicted as they had been training their powers, with supervision. But some had come from other students' training. Exhaustion had slowly started to seep into your bones.

-

“You look like shit.” You lifted your head up from the office desk to see Logan leaning against the door frame. He was in his classic yellow and blue suit which got a small smile from you. He must’ve been training if the dust on his clothes gave any indication.

“I feel like it.” You chuckled as you stood from your chair and cracked your back. Logan made his way into the room and looked at the paperwork that scattered the work space. With each student that came in you had to write an incident report. Most were simple, but for one's like that morning they had to be worded precisely.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods? Need a bandaid for one of your cuts? Or perhaps a kiss to make it all better?” You teased, absentmindedly organizing your desk while Logan watched. His laugh turned into a smirk as he grabbed your chin. The hold he had on your face was light as he forced you to look up at him. Tearing the focus away from the papers, your eyes met with his.

“Tempting. But I had other ideas.” His words sent a heat to rush up your body. The hand that held your chin retreated to form a finger gun as he spoke. He pulled away but you remained leaned against the desk for a moment longer.

“The others don’t have any missions to go on. So they’ll be here for the night.” Logan said before crossing his arms over his chest. Your face still hot from his hold it took you a moment to register what he was trying to say.

“That’s good.” You responded with a small smile as you leaned back. It was embarrassing to say the least that a simple touch could put your head in a spin.

“Do you want to go out?” Logan’s question caught you off guard. So in your typical fashion you teased him.

“Are you asking me on a date, Logan Howlett?” You asked with a raised brow and a smirk before leaning onto the desk. He leaned in, your faces mere inches from one another. It felt as if all the air in the room was sucked away as neither of you pulled away.

“If you say yes.” His statement was plain but you knew the intention. You had thought about asking him out before but hadn’t gotten the courage yet to do it yourself. Sure you had over two hundred years to get that courage but nevertheless, it was nice he made the first move.

“Sure. I’d love to go out.” You leaned back, breaking the eye contact you both held. Glancing over at the clock on your wall to see the time. “I got another hour before I’m off for the night.” When you pulled away from the desk, Logan took one of your hands in his and pulled you back to him with a gentle tug.

“We both know your work here is never done.” His thumb began to rub circles on the top of your hand. Logan’s eyes met yours once again and you could feel the moment your sense of responsibility washed away.

“The others can take care of any bumps and bruises. Let’s get out of here.” He continued his pursuit in convincing you but Logan didn’t realize he had already won. A sigh left your lips as you covered his occupied hand with your other. Giving it a slight squeeze as you spoke.

“Fine. But I’m getting changed first and you should too.” You stated before taking your hands away from his and poking his chest. He chuckled as you headed for the door. “Meet me in the garage in fifteen?” You instructed before leaving and made haste. However you did catch Logan’s reply before you departed.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

-

Having changed into more appropriate attire for the occasion, you made your way to the garage. Your outfit wasn’t anything extravagant but it was better than the medical scrubs you had on before.

When you entered the garage your attention was immediately brought to Logan. He was leaning against Scott’s motorcycle, his signature leather jacket adorned his shoulders along with his typical jeans. A smile played on his lips as you approached, his eyes taking you in.

“You look good.” He said, pushing off the bike to get closer to you. A smile graced your face at his compliment. No matter how simple his flattering remarks may be.

“Thank you. Handsome as always I see.” You said as you came toe to toe with him. He took your hand in his and raised it to his lips as he placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. Your face instantly heated with the fire of a thousand suns, having not expected him to do anything of that nature.

“You ready to go?” Logan asked, lowering your hand but still keeping it in his hold. It took a moment for his question to register but you nodded eagerly.

“Absolutely!” You said but your face instantly dropped as realization washed over you. “Shit! Wait, I should probably tell someone I’m leaving otherwise-“ when you tried to turn around and pull your hand out of Logan’s grasp he spun you back to face him. His unoccupied hand came to your shoulder and he moved his thumb gently.

“I already told the Professor who already told everyone else. You’re fine.” His words instantly soothed the rising panic that had been bubbling. A smile returning to your face.

“Look at you thinking ahead.” You teased as Logan removed his hand from your shoulder. He chuckled at your remark. His hand gave a small squeeze to yours that had remained in his grasp.

“Well. I know your day hasn’t been the best. So I wanted to make it up to you.” He began to pull you in the direction of the motorcycle. Two full face helmets rested on the seat. Logan grabbed the one meant for you and turned back to you.

“Hope you don’t mind helmet hair.” He said before he gently placed it over your head. His hands brushed over your jaw as he worked to tighten the strap. It wasn’t that you couldn’t do it yourself, but Logan wouldn’t let you argue. You almost thought it was another one of his own selfish ways of touching you. But you tried not to read too much into the jester.

With your helmet secure he quickly put on his own before helping you into the bike. Making sure to swing your leg high enough not to scratch the paint. When Logan got on the bike you instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he started the engine. The bike roared to life under you.

“Hold on tight.” Logan yelled back over the bike as he opened the garage door and the two of you rolled out into the warm summer night. Wind blowing passed as you made your way down the road.

-

The drive to the nearest bar was ten minutes away which had been fine with you. The grip your arms had on Logan stayed tight as the two of you flew down the road. When arriving in town he weaved through traffic like a mad man which caused your hold on him to only get tighter.

Parking wasn’t an issue as it was fairly empty for a Tuesday night. Logan helped you off the bike before moving to relieve you of your helmet. His fingers just as nimble as before while he took it off. After the bike was secured and helmets insured not to get stolen, you both walked into the bar. The man at the front desk checking your fake IDs before letting you in. Luckily for the two of you the Professor knew some people who did excellent work in fake documentation.

Although there weren’t many vehicles in the parking lot, the building was still busy as always. There were three distinct groups along with a few lone drinkers amongst the attendees. One group of five was stationed at the barstools while the other two groups took up the pool tables. There were two bartenders for the night, one was an older lady that you’ve seen there a few times before. While the second was much younger and hardly seemed old enough to be drinking herself.

Logan and yourself took the seats at the corner of the bar. As you sat, the younger bartender came over and took your orders. Making sure to pay extra attention to Logan’s drink choice which was simple as always.

“I’ll get right on that sugar.” She said with a wink at Logan as she went to pour the drinks. You could feel the blood in your veins begin to boil from jealousy. She was pretty in all the superficial ways a person could think of. However from the way she carried herself you could tell that was as deep as her beauty went.

“Hey sweetheart, are you alright?” Logan’s voice cut through the haze of your thoughts before they could wander too deep. Your eyes met his and it soon registered to you that his hand rested on your thigh.

“Ya. Ya I’m fine.” You said with a wavering smile. When his eyebrows knitted together you knew he wasn’t convinced. You took his hand from your thigh and into your hand, giving it a light squeeze. Before you could reassure him a second time your eyes darted to the bartender as she brought the drinks. She placed your drink down in a rush before taking her time with Logan’s whiskey. Slowly pushing it towards him and making sure to lean on the counter enough to show off her breast.

You took your hand away from Logan’s and quickly grabbed the beverage in front of you before beginning to drink at a steady pace. Suppressing the urge to overreact as she continued her pursuit on the man beside you. You hated confrontation while sober, and you also know where Logan’s intentions lied. As much as your brain wanted to dissociate from the situation you forced yourself to focus on their conversation. Knowing that Logan would handle the situation.

“Can you see I’m with someone?” His tone was gruff and a bit more abrasive than what may have been necessary. However it still didn’t deter her as she continued to smile. His hands rested on the counter, one quickly reached out to grab his drink. When his fingers met the glass the girl reached out and ran her fingers over his knuckles. He quickly jerked his glass away to show his displeasure for the girl. Eyebrows furrowing as he did. As much as you wanted to reach out and throw your drink in her face, you refrained.

“She doesn’t seem to be protesting too much.” She remarked. The bartender pointed to you before crossing her arms. Leaning into one hip as she continued her pursuit. At this point the jealousy that had been brewing turned into simple anger. The girl wasn’t getting the clear message that Logan wasn’t interested.

“Probably because she’s too nice to run you off.” He barked, his hand made a fist and pointed at himself with his thumb. “But I ain’t. So if you wouldn’t mind just taking our drink orders that’d be great.” The girl scoffed at his words and placed her hands on her hips.

“Well it seems- ow!“ Before she could finish her insult, you had forced a bottle of tequila off of the shelf which fell onto her shoulder. Hitting it with a hard thud before shattering to the tile floor. You had formed a small block of condensed air particles behind the bottle and used it to push the bottle from its spot on the shelf.

You put your empty drink down. A fake look of shock crossed your face but Logan’s didn’t have to be forced. His eyebrows raised high at the sudden shatter of the bottle and the girl clutching her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” You finally spoke, your tone matching the one you use for the hurt kids at the mansion. She gritted her teeth at you as you feigned concern. Deep down you couldn’t be happier by the outcome.

“I’m fine! I’ll make you another drink.” The bartender mumbled. She continued rubbing her shoulder, a bruise sure to form, as she made her way over to make another drink.

You bid her a polite thank you before turning back to Logan. You had fought to keep the smile off your face but when Logan greeted you with a knowing smirk it was all over. A sheepish smile appeared on your lips.

“I’m sorry.” You said and fettled with your hands, not exactly sure what to do with them. That sheepish smile still in your face as you looked away. Logan noticed this and quickly took one of your hands in his.

“You have nothing to apologize for. But perhaps next time we stay at the mansion and drink, ya?” His thumb drawing figure eight onto your hand which brought you back to him. Your smile was far more genuine than before. The promise of another date etched into his words.

“Ya. That would be nice.” You agreed, your eyes were locked onto Logan’s but it was quickly intercepted when your drink slid over to you. Averting your gaze from the man in front of you, you realized that it was the older woman this time who brought you the drink.

You quickly thanked her before taking a sip. It didn’t take long after that before drinks were flowing freely between the two of you. Talking as you usually did and discussing drama floating around the school. It was nice as you got to unload all of your troubles not just from that morning, but from everything else.

“Hey I’ll be right back.” Logan said as he stood from his stool. He had just finished off another glass of whisky. Even though he had quite a few glasses already he seemed just as sober as when the two of you had gotten there.

“Oh ok.” You said with a smile as he left. Your eyes trained on him as he turned down the hall that had a neon sign indicating the bathrooms. While you continued to drink your beverage there was a sudden hand that gripped your shoulder. Dread filled your body as you turned to the man who had taken Logan’s seat.

“Glad he’s finally gone.” He said while leaning in for you to smell the potency of his breath. Not only did it reek of cheap alcohol but it also seemed as if he hadn’t brushed his teeth in a month. Your nose scrunched at the smell but you kept your focus on your drink. Placing a hand over top of it to insure it wasn’t spiked.

“Oh what’s the matter baby? Cat got your tongue?” He continued with his advances. You couldn’t help but side eye him at that point. He wasn’t a bad looking man but, just like the young bartender, his looks were as deep as his likability went.

“Fuck off. I’m not interested.” You said before taking a sip from your drink. There wasn’t much you could think to say with the buzz you had going.

“Oh ho I like when they put up a fight.” The hand you hadn’t registered was still on your shoulder giving a squeeze. It was a hard grip, one meant to intimidate a person. But it only fueled the frustration building under your skin. In a swift movement you grabbed his wrist and twisted it. You sprang off the bar stool and forced his chest into the counter before pinning his arm behind him.

“I’ll give you a fight. But it’s not going to be fair.” You growled above him. The mutation in your veins wanting to burst forward and rearrange every atom in his body until he was nothing but a pile of flesh on the ground.

“Ow! What the fuck.” He yelled under you as his other limbs flailed. A devilish smile started to play on your lips at the thought. However, before you did anything foolish, you felt another hand on your shoulder. This one though held a distinct feeling of familiarity as it weighed on you.

“Hey bub. When a lady tells you to fuck off, it’s probably best to do as she says.” Logan said as your grip on the man disappeared. You let him up and grabbed your drink once again to finish it off.

“You can have her! Crazy bitch.” He shouted as he dusted himself off. Your gaze darted to Logan in search for his approval.

“Let me at him, Logan. I’ll put him in his place.” You said with a crack of your fingers and a pop from your neck. Logan’s hand came up to one of your balled fists to lower it.

“No sweetheart.” He said with a gentle tone. The urge to gut the man harassing you subsided. Although the booze was urging you to fight, Logan’s hold on you was outweighing it.

“Aw look at that. Your boyfriend isn’t gonna let you fight like a-“ before another insult could leave his mouth Logan turned and clocked him in the face. The man slumped over the counter, knocked out from the adamantium punch Logan swiftly delivered. The bartender quickly came over but before she could say a word Logan stopped her. He held out a card to her.

“Do you mind closing us out? Thank you.” He said as she took the card to run it for the drinks. You felt a bet wobbly and leaned against the counter. The man had fallen from the counter to the ground with his face down. The Bartender came back a few moments later and handed the card back to Logan with a receipt.

“Come on darlin. Let’s get you home.” He went to take your hand but you pulled it away. The alcohol had started to impair your judgment now that it had replaced the adrenaline. His eyebrows knitted together when you pulled away. Stumbling a little as you did.

“Come on, I wanted to fight. Let’s wait for him to wake up.” You pushed off the counter and balled up your fist while looking at the unconscious man.

“That’s not happening today. Come on.” Before you could protest again, Logan wrapped his arm around your thighs and threw you over his shoulder. You gasped and firmly planted your hands on his lower back to keep from falling too far.

“Logan!” You gasped, feeling dizzy from the sudden jostle. With that he began to walk for the door, making sure to ignore the looks that people gave as the two of you passed. Logan bid the front door man a nod good night as he made way for the door.

“Watch your head.” He warned before walking through the doors. At that point you gave up on fighting him and lowered yourself so as to not get hit by the door frame.

Logan didn’t put you down until he made it to the bike. Even then he kept a hand on you as he grabbed your helmet. He put it on you just as carefully as he did before, making sure it was secured before putting on his own.

He once again helped you onto the bike and started the engine. Your arms instinctively wrapped around Logan but with far more strength than before. The fear of you falling off in your drunken state was heavily in your thoughts. You felt Logan’s chest as he chucked, placing a hand over your forearm.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I gotcha.”

-

The ride back home had been just as smooth as the ride out. The roads had been clearer in town from the late hour so there wasn’t a need to bob and weave through traffic. Your hold on Logan remained tight until the moment he pulled into the garage. There were several moments during the drive that he placed his hand onto your arm. A silent reassurance that he had you and wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

It hadn’t taken long before you were stumbling back to your room with Logan in tow. After you had run into the door frame, heading from the garage into the house, he placed an arm around your waist to insure it wouldn’t happen again. You leaned fully into his touch, soaking in the warmth that always radiated off him.

It wasn’t long before you two arrived at your bedroom door. Logan’s arm fell from your body as he pulled away, taking his warmth with it. You slumped against your door, back pressed firmly against the wood. A grin crossed your lips as you looked up at Logan, he smiled back at you.

“I had fun tonight. Minas the whole getting hit on thing from both parties.” Logan said with a light chuckle. You couldn’t help the muffled laugh you gave after covering your mouth. Trying to stay quiet for the sake of the kids.

“Agreed. Definitely staying here next time we want to drink.” You emphasized with a tap to your door. Your wrist bone hit the door knob with a hard thud.

“Ow.” You said while shaking your hand, Logan reached out and took it in his. Gently rubbing his thumb over the red mark, he brought your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss. Your cheeks grew hot and a dumb smile crossed your face, the jester getting a stronger reaction then if it had happened while sober.

“Goodnight sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” He said, returning the smile as it all became too much. Logan’s proximity, his touch, the lingering feeling of his kiss. With the liquid courage still coursing through your veins, you pushed off the door. Lightly placing a hand on his shoulder you leaned upwards and placed a kiss on his lips. It was a very brief moment, only lasting a second before you turned back to your door and opened it.

“Good night Logan.” You said with a wave and smile before shutting your door. With the door closed behind you, now alone in your room, the realization of what you just did sank in. You had just drunkenly kissed Logan Howlett.

The man that you’ve watched fight through every war known to man. The man you thought you’d never see again after Vietnam. The man who Scott unknowingly brought back into your life. The man who you formed a friendship with after finding out his memories were no more. The man who you had no idea if the feelings of wanting more were mutual.

Panic seeped into your bones as realization hit you like a frate train. Your body began to slightly shake and your breathing uneven before you slumped back against the door. The scene replaying in your head.

What did I just do?

[bi-bard]

If I Could Hold You for a Minute, I'd Go Through It Again - Charles Rowland Imagine [Dead Boy Detectives]

Title: If I Could Hold You for a Minute, I'd Go Through It Again

Pairing: Charles Rowland X Witch!Reader

Based On: Francesca

Word Count: 3,361 words

Warning(s): physical attack, mentions of family trauma/death/injury

Summary: Whoever claimed that risking your life was only for the living had never seen the true devotion of a ghost before.

Author's Note: Wow, Kyli liked another project that was inspired by Neil Gaiman's work... what a surprise. If you have any characters that you want to see, let me know.

Also, I'M HOME! I MADE IT BACK TO YOU GUYS!

**written in third person p.o.v for sake of storytelling**

UNREAL UNEARTH - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

If there was one word that was always used in tandem with (Y/n)'s name, it was chaos.

Or messy.

Or clumsy.

Or wild.

Or any other word that could possibly mean the same thing.

Early on, (Y/n) could excuse it as inexperience. Maybe age would tame whatever beast seemed to be roaring in their brain and their chest. Maybe someone would explain the best way to leash an animal that was so much larger than you.

No one ever did.

Instead, (Y/n) ended up alone. Alone, terrified, and as out of control as ever. A cruel hand had been dealt to them when they were far too young. And now, the teenager was left coping with things that most adults could not handle.

Meeting Edwin and Charles had been the first good thing to happen to (Y/n) ever.

(Y/n)'s isolated life was interrupted quite abruptly by the ghosts. A case had brought the detectives to (Y/n)'s doorstep. They had been wearing disguises at the time, but those were quickly put away when they learned that (Y/n) was a witch.

A partnership of sorts formed between the three of them. With Edwin, it was more sternly a working relationship. He rarely found himself in (Y/n)'s home, especially when there was no case that required their assistance.

With Charles, it was very different. Charles would visit whenever he wanted to. He would usually be the first to ask for help, popping in through a mirror in the main room. He'd take the time to look around the small living space. And when there wasn't a case, he would pop in whenever. It was commonly just as (Y/n) was sitting down to eat or read or do anything.

Charles and (Y/n) developed an interesting friendship. A friendship that was resting precariously on held tongues. Anyone could see how close the two had gotten to crossing the line between friendship and whatever was on the other side. Anyone other than the pair. They were both trapped in a state of denial. Maybe that was for the best for a time.

(Y/n)'s chaos had been largely hidden away from the detectives. Some would call it careful. (Y/n) called it lucky. Incredibly lucky.

And then there was the case of Rory.

Rory was a young spirit. A young but troubled spirit. The boys had been contacted by a friend saying that Rory was becoming violent. The goal was to find what was tying the spirit to this plane and to send them to the other side.

It had all been going well. All things considered, anyway.

The only problem was time. There was this terrifying ticking clock between the trio knowing about the case and the risk of Rory attempting to hurt someone.

(Y/n) had only been there to help find what had been keeping Rory tied to this plane.

It had been going fine. Absolutely fine.

And then, (Y/n) lost control.

There was an intense moment where Edwin and Charles ended up being thrown in different directions. (Y/n) had tried to help. To get the spirit to stop for just long enough for the detectives to recover.

It didn't work.

Something else had overwhelmed (Y/n)'s efforts.

Whatever it had been had hit the spirit straight on. It had angered it... a lot. It ran at a terrified and confused (Y/n), causing the young witch to hit the ground, the scrape of the road below them causing a hiss to escape.

"(Y/n)!" Charles ran over first. "You alright?"

(Y/n) nodded as they pushed themselves up.

"What was that," Edwin asked as he walked over. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I... I don't know," (Y/n) said quietly. "It just... It just happened."

"It was reckless! You could have gotten yourself hurt and now we have to worry about the spirit being angry enough to hurt someone else!"

"Edwin-" Charles tried to get his friend to relax.

"What is wrong with you?" Edwin snapped before Charles could even try to stop him from asking.

"I... I don't know," (Y/n) murmured. "I don't know."

"Maybe it's best if you removed yourself from this case."

"Edwin!" Charles scolded.

"They're a risk!" Edwin insisted.

"He's right," (Y/n) turned to Charles. "I'll go home. Good luck."

Charles followed (Y/n) down the street. (Y/n)'s car sat alone on the street. Not much in terms of subtlety, but (Y/n) also hadn't been graced with the ability of travelling by mirror.

"(Y/n)," Charles said as he jogged to keep up with their quick steps. "Will you wait for a second?"

"Go back to the case, Charles," (Y/n) replied, not even looking at him.

"No," he stepped in front of them, attempting to block the path to the car. "Not until I know you're alright."

"I'm fine," (Y/n) insisted. "Edwin's right."

"No, he's not," he shook his head.

"Yes, he is. I am a risk. I always have been. I've hidden it well, but this was bound to happen at some point."

"What," he asked.

"A long time ago, when I was still with my family, I had issues like that happen all the time," (Y/n) explained. "I would... Something would overwhelm me, and I'd end up doing something dangerous or destructive. No one ever helped me with it. They expected me to sort it out on my own. And then... I hurt someone. Someone I cared about. I... I ended up being forced to leave. I still never truly learned to control anything. Tonight was proof of that!"

"We can help you-"

"That's not your job!" (Y/n) ran their hands over their face. "It's not worth the risk. I could get someone hurt, I could get myself, I could put you both in danger- none of it is worth it!"

"That's not your choice to make," Charles replied. "Any risk or danger is fine with me. I'm not leaving you alone, (Y/n)."

"You should."

(Y/n) moved around him and got in the car. Charles stepped back and watched the car drive off. He turned to see that Edwin had watched the interaction. Charles glared at him.

"It's for the best-"

"Let's just finish the case," Charles muttered, cutting Edwin off.

The case went by slowly and tensely. Charles was gruffer than Edwin had ever seen him. And Edwin had no right to question him about it. It was his comment that had caused this tension and anger. How was he meant to poke at it as if he had no idea what was going on inside the head of his best friend?

Charles didn't stick around the office once the case was done. Instead, he immediately went to the mirror, climbing through to try and see (Y/n) as soon as possible.

He ended up walking into (Y/n)'s room. He was somewhat expecting them to be there.

"(Y/n)!" Charles called out as he walked through the doorway. He stopped for a moment at the chaos that had taken over the living room.

It had been clear that some kind of fight had broken out. Between whom or what, Charles had no real idea. There were smaller objects thrown, furniture shifted, garbage scattered.

"(Y/n)," Charles called again as he walked around some of the mess. And then, he saw (Y/n) lying on the floor on the far side of the sofa. "(Y/n)!"

He ran over, rolling them on their back. They seemed to be breathing, but they were completely non-responsive.

"Shit!"

He shifted and carried (Y/n) to their room, leaving them on top of the bed's covers before he ran back through the mirror.

"Edwin!" Charles shouted even though Edwin was in the same room as him. "Something's wrong with (Y/n). I... I went to check on them and they were unconscious, and their living room was just destroyed. I don't know what happened."

"They're alive?"

"For now!"

"Come on," Edwin pushed Charles toward the mirror again.

Edwin let out a sigh as he walked over to (Y/n). He carefully lifted their eyelid to see if their eyes were responsive. However, all that was there was complete redness that had taken over. As if the eye had been filled with blood, but none of it was running out or swelling.

"Witchcraft," Edwin muttered. "I think I've read about this. Give me a moment to find the book in the office."

"(Y/n) was attacked by a witch?" Charles asked. Edwin was already through the mirror.

It was a suffocating matter of minutes before Edwin made it back to (Y/n)'s place.

"What is it?"

"If I am correct, then (Y/n) is currently trapped in a dream-like state," Edwin explained. "This dream-like state is keeping (Y/n) in a state of calmness while their brain slowly swells and presses against the skull. If we do not cure it fast enough, the swelling will kill them."

"How do we cure it?"

"We have to find a way to delicately wake (Y/n) from their dream-state. There is a cure that we can make, but it will take time."

"Is there another way? Something faster?"

"In theory," Edwin relented. "One of us could possess them and find a way to manually ease them out of the dream. The cure is our best option. Less risk."

"We don't have the time! We don't know how long (Y/n)'s been like this!"

"Charles, if either one of us chooses to possess them, then we set off alarms in the afterlife. We cannot take this risk."

Charles clenched his jaw.

"I will go get the cure started. Keep an eye on (Y/n)."

Charles did try to listen. He stood by and made sure that (Y/n) was breathing. He made sure that they were comfortable and that they were not suffering too immensely.

But then, he panicked.

He saw (Y/n)'s breaths becoming shallower and shallower. He heard nothing from Edwin. He was too worried to think of the consequences of his actions critically in any capacity.

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was in a field.

He did a circle, trying to find some sign of something or someone. This was (Y/n)'s dream after all. They had to be there somewhere.

He saw something in the distance.

Approaching it, Charles could see a clearly outlined garden with a wooden fence around it. On one end was a gate, on the other end a cabin. A small cabin. The garden was beautiful. Full of flowers in full bloom with a swinging bench seat.

Charles almost chuckled at the vision. Something felt so fitting about something so peaceful being what (Y/n) pictured in a dream. Almost as far from their current life as they could get.

(Y/n) walked out of the cabin a moment later. Their clothes matched the garden. Soft, almost pastel colors. Very perfect, very organized.

He stepped forward, going to get their attention but stopped when he saw himself walking out of the cabin soon after. Well, some dream version of him. The other version of him was dressed exactly the same as he was, but it wasn't him. It couldn't have been him.

He watched as this alternate version of him pulled (Y/n) closer and kissed their head. The pair walked to the swinging bench seat, sitting together. (Y/n) relaxed into the fake Charles's side.

The view made the real Charles freeze where he was.

It felt wrong. Invasive.

He had kept his feelings private for as long as he had known (Y/n). He had been convinced that whatever connection the pair of them had was going to stay stuck in whatever form it was already in. Seeing this was a sign of something different. And he didn't know how to feel about that.

"(Y/n)!" he called from where he stood.

(Y/n) seemed to hear something. They paused and looked around but didn't seem to notice Charles. He could've sworn that they looked directly at him, but their eyes seemed to go right through him. As if he was never there.

(Y/n) leaned back into the seat, smiling as the fake Charles laid a kiss on their cheek as they did so.

The real Charles continued walking forward. He tried to think of a way to "delicately" get (Y/n) out of the dream.

"(Y/n)," he repeated, now standing just outside the gate.

Again, (Y/n) looked around but couldn't seem to spot him and was pulled back into the fake Charles's side.

He opened the gate and walked inside.

Neither (Y/n) nor the fake Charles seemed to acknowledge him in the slightest.

"(Y/n)," he said yet again.

(Y/n) again seemed surprised to hear anything, sitting up straight and going to look around until their eyes landed on Charles. They froze, eyes going wide at the sight of him.

"Hi," he grinned.

(Y/n) looked between him and the fake Charles, who was only looking at (Y/n).

"I'm sorry but I need you to come with me," Charles pressed, holding out his hand.

"What," they asked. "Sorry, but there are two of you. What's going on?"

"That's not me," he explained. "I... I don't know what he is, but he's not me."

(Y/n) stood up, stepping away from the bench. Once they were a few steps away from the real and fake Charles, they turned to look at them. The fake Charles didn't move, as if he were simply a mannequin that had to be moved around. He was staring at the space beside him as if (Y/n) was still there.

"You're in a dream," the real Charles explained. "This whole thing is fake."

(Y/n) ran their hands over their face.

"Do you remember how you got here at all," he asked.

"Yeah, I... I...," they trailed off, finding a blank space where some kind of memory definitely should have been.

"You were attacked," he continued. "Another witch found you and attacked you. You aren't standing outside some cabin in a field. You're lying in bed, unconscious."

There was a long pause before (Y/n) spoke up again, "I remember... I remember getting home. I remember someone being in my living room. It was an old friend..."

"You don't have to explain," Charles stopped them. He drew enough of a conclusion from those few sentences. It was some connection to whoever (Y/n) had hurt. Frankly, he didn't care about that. "We need to go."

He held his hand out to them. They finally took it.

He led them back to the gate to the garden. He didn't have any proof that this plan would work, but he didn't have anything else to go on. He just wanted to make sure (Y/n) had a chance at being okay.

Once (Y/n) stepped through the gate, it felt as if Charles was thrown out of (Y/n)'s mind. Like some explosion had happened.

Charles blinked a few times and spun around as he found himself back in (Y/n)'s room.

He heard (Y/n) grumbling. He grinned.

"Hey," he said quietly, going to sit next to them. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess," (Y/n) muttered. "My head hurts."

"I'll grab some water-"

"Wait, wait," (Y/n) reached for him as he stood up. He somehow managed to get halfway to the door by the time (Y/n) said anything. "I was... I was stuck in my head."

"And now, you're out."

"You... You popped up. You showed up there. You helped me."

"Yup."

"How?"

He paused for a moment.

"Charles..."

"I... possessed you."

(Y/n) sighed, standing up and placing their head in their hands. "Charles."

"It was to save you-"

"Oh my god!"

"I was trying to help-"

"You possessed me!"

"You need to relax-"

"No!" (Y/n) slapped Charles's hands away as he tried to guide them back to bed. "You possessed me!"

"I know that it's an invasion and it probably feels like you had some privacy violated-"

"My privacy isn't my concern," (Y/n) cut him off. "My concern is that you and Edwin have told me over and over again that possessing people sets off alarms in the afterlife. I don't care how close to death I am; you don't get to take that kind of risk for me."

"That's not just your choice," Charles replied. "I told you before, any risk that I take is my choice. I just saved your life!"

(Y/n) ran their hands over their face as they walked to the window. It was dark out. The moon perched itself perfectly to shine into (Y/n)'s room. There had been countless nights where (Y/n) spent ages just staring up at the sky, somehow feeling less alone when it was in sight.

(Y/n) could hear Charles walking to the window. They saw him out of the corner of their eye.

"I would do it again," he admitted. "No matter how much danger I put myself in. I'll do what I have to in order to save you."

"Why?"

"Because if you died, you wouldn't know how to get away from Death. I'd never see you again," Charles turned to (Y/n), who was still staring out the window. "I can run for eternity. I can escape anything and anyone. And I would do that as long as I knew you were at the end of whatever path I was running. I can't risk not seeing you again. You... You mean too much to me."

Finally, (Y/n) looked over at him.

"I... I love you, (Y/n)," he murmured.

(Y/n) loved him back. They knew that. They had for a long time now. But they couldn't bring themself to say it out loud. It was strange. Charles had seen the dream that (Y/n) had been stuck in. Surely, he knew how (Y/n) felt. So why could they still not admit it to him? Maybe it was they were merely scared of confessing it to themself.

"I'm sorry," Charles said after a few moments of silence. "I shouldn't have said that-"

Charles was cut off when (Y/n) stepped over and kissed him. It was as awkward as one would assume that it would be. It wasn't some perfect, fairytale-like kiss. It was an awkward kiss shared between a person who hadn't been kissed in decades and another who had never been kissed before. And it was short. It lasted a matter of moments before (Y/n) pulled back again. They stared at Charles with wide eyes, as if they had been just as surprised by their actions as he was.

He slowly grinned at them.

(Y/n) looked down for a moment, face becoming warm. "We should... We should get Edwin-"

"In a minute," he muttered.

"Charles-"

He leaned over and kissed them again. When he pulled back, there was a smug smile on his face. "You haven't said it back yet."

"What- oh," (Y/n) felt their face get even warmer as they realized what he meant. "I love you too."

It was quiet. As if it was still some kind of secret that no one other than Charles was allowed to know. Maybe (Y/n) meant for it to be that way.

It was then that Edwin climbed back through the mirror with some jars cradled in his arms.

"Alright, I found some things in the office that should be able to help- oh," Edwin muttered as he saw (Y/n) standing there. "You went through with the possession, I see... Even though I told you not to."

"I panicked," Charles explained.

"I already told him off for it," (Y/n) added.

"I think that (Y/n) should stay at the office for a while. Until we know there's not a threat."

Edwin looked between the pair. "Very well."

"I'll meet you guys there," (Y/n) promised.

(Y/n) felt a kiss get pressed to their head before Charles stepped away. They looked at Edwin, who gave them a shocked look in return.

"Well... I'll see you in a bit," (Y/n) said, trying to ignore the look that they had received.

The ghost boys went to the nearest mirror and climbed through. (Y/n) could hear the two of them muttering to each other. It was going to be a very long visit, (Y/n) could tell.

But (Y/n) couldn't find it in themself to mind much.

It was all worth it to be able to still hear them at all.

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

TAG LISTS:

Everything - @geeksareunique

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

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Original Characters Masterlist

[onskepa]

Paywll

anon's request: Can you do Metkayina family x human reader? The reader is an expert at underwater gardening, thats all! Thank you! Sorry, I forgot to mention: Could they be earth water plants? like seaweed, lily's, all the like? thank you!

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

Paywll hums a soft tune as she tends to her plants. In a small, naturally made pond was found by paywll when she was exploring the island of the metkayina clan. What was supposed to be a study of plant adaptation turned into something more. It became a second home to her, new found family among the na’vi. Truly it is amazing. Even more now that she can do what she always wanted to do. 

Preserve and regrow endangered plants. To be more specific, the last remaining Earth plants. They are very delicate and hard to cultivate while meeting their needed requirements to survive in a whole new environment. 

Paywll used the little pond she found to start her plant cultivation. Starting small and seeing how it can handle a small portion of the ecosystem. Placing water lilies, lily pads, and azolla filiculoides. She plans to add more, to save what is left of Earth and its precious plants. So far, she is happy to see how well her plants are growing. Even better, they are in need of changing from a small pond, to something bigger. 

“Ok, be very careful ao’nung, these plants are very fragile. Let rotxo help you” paywll gently instructs the young na’vi. Ao’nung grins happily as he lifts a large solid bowl above his head. 

“I got this paywll, you just lead the way” he says. Beside him was his sister, tsireya who also holds a large bowl with the help of rotxo. 

“Alright, we have to move quickly,” paywll says and begins to walk a bit fast. The pond where she shelters the Earth plants has quite a distance from the nearest beach. When arriving at the village, many people knew the protocol as they made way for her and the children. None daring to get in their way. 

At the beach, Ronal awaits them with tools at hand. 

They will have to move quickly for it to work. 

“Mother! Time to begin” tsireya calls out to Ronal. Nodding, ronal pulls out her thin web like net. Ao’nung and tsireya lower the bows for paywll to do the next part. Taking the net from Ronal, she begins to instruct. 

“Alright, for this part it may seem easy, but it's detrimental for the plant's life cycle” paywll begins to explain. Everyone nodded as they were ready to follow her instructions. 

Grabbing the thin net, paywll places it on the surface of the water. 

“Tsireya, the water lilies” she calls out to. 

Nodding, tsireya takes out the water lilies from the large bowl with great care, being mindful to not touch the root. Slowly she puts the flowers on top of the net, letting it float. Ao’nung does the same with the azolla filiculoides. Roxto surrounded the plants with the lily pads while not over passing the net limits. Ronal goes under water to add a base at the bottom of the net. Adding three long ropes made with the same material as the net. She places one under a rock, the second gently tied to a coral base, and the third to a big shel. All for the net to not move and not disrupting the plants. 

“What will this do paywll?” roxto asks. 

“With the shallow waters, the plants will recognize its areas and adjust. It was familiar with the pond so we moved it to a similar area. This will also help the plants to adapt and grow” paywll happily explains. 

“How long will it take to adapt?” tsireya was the second to ask as she admires the pretty plants. 

“Depends on them. Can take days, or weeks. So, to know, I will have to watch over them and see if there is a difference. If they grow, then its working” paywll explains further. 

Ronal took a liking to the water lilies, “if they do grow, what then?” she asks. 

“We will gently cut some roots and separate them. Overcrowding can be bad, so when the time comes, we will place a new batch somewhere else” 

Tsireya was in awe at the plan, already imagining what the shores will look like. Full of amazing alien plants, flowers and who knows what else. 

“Now that the pond is clear, I can grow more different plants. Do the same as these, grow, transfer, cultivate, repeat” the human plans out. However the next batch of plants will be tricky, since they won't be in the pond for the process. 

“What other plants do you wish to grow?” 

“These are beautiful” ronal compliments. She observes the plants that were in the pond, small leaves that paywll called ‘Caulerpa’. Ronal watches as her friend slowly starts to dig out the roots of the said plant into the large bowl. 

“They will become more beautiful once I put these on the sand bed,” paywll says as she carefully transfers the plant. Just like before, they make quick haste to the ocean shore. Ronal helping paywll by guiding her to the desired area to place the plant. 

Paywll gently holds down the plants so as to not float or sway away underwater. 

Her lilies, pads, and other plants were adjusting so well to their new ecosystem that it made her want to grow more of the endangered plants. 

“Here we are” ronal signs. 

Nodding, paywll places the Caulerpa seaweed at the pre-dugged spot. Gently placing down the roots and covering it with sand and some shells in case it rises up. Ronal makes circular rotation around paywll incase a curious fish wants to intervene. 

Paywll gives a thumbs up, signaling its all set. Ronal grabs her friend by the waist and starts to swim up. Once they reached the surface, they smile in glee together. It seems a lot to grow plants but ronal enjoys every bit of it. Especially if it gets her to spend more time with pawll and see in her view, how precious these foreign plants are to her.

It was night, the family all gathered in their home, paywll being their honored guest. They all sit and enjoy the much earned food ronal glady made. Another hard day's world for everyone. 

“Paywll, how many do you plan to grow? At this point, it's starting to look like a large underwater garden” ao’nung says. Ronal hisses at him, tonowari slightly glaring at his son. Paywll just giggled at his words. 

“As many as I can. These plants mean a lot to me. I dont want these plants to be extinct or endangered. There are so many types you have yet to see ao’nung. Many you might like too. I couldnt save what little remains of nature back on my planet but, fortunately I did manage to save a little bit of these darlings. And trust me, what you see is nothing so what else I have yet to plant” paywll answers. 

Ronal nods in approval. Placing her hand on her friends back, she speaks, “it our shores will be a garden, then so be it” 

“It might even attract more fish or other creatures,” tsireya says, seeing many possibilities. 

“Once the Macrocytosis start to grow a bit big, you are going to love the types of corals I plan to farm” paywll says. 

Tonowari hears this, his ears twitching a bit, “corals you say? I look forward to those”. 

Paywll chuckles, “you might like the sun croal, they are very colorful and interesting shapes”. 

He nods, “I would gladly assist you in it” 

Paywll nods as well. Truly, she is lucky to have the support of the reef na’vi. Allowing her to place the Earth’s sea plants into their territory. Really, even from the beginning of befriending them. But she is grateful, extremely grateful. With their support and willing to have foreign plants into their native ecosystem, paywll does not plan to break any cycle, only to improve and adapt. And honestly, paywll would mind having an underwater garden as ao’nung mentioned. It will be like an underwater oasis for the plants, to never be extinct and only thrive as they always should have. 

Aaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! Sorry for no sneak peek for this fic, it was pretty short, but sweet! Hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

-------

Paywll = water plant, dapophet , Aloeparilus succulentus

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Johnny Cade hc because I’m glad its the weekend

-Is a LOT tougher than the gang gives him credit for. A lot.

-To anyone who doesn’t know him well he looks incredibly intimidating

-Can make a fire out of nothing. It’s a skill he learned from spending a lot of nights in the lot when he doesn’t feel like bothering anyone, but tbh he’s honestly a bit of a pyro

-Is INCREDIBLY protective of Ponyboy, but knows Ponyboy hates feeling babied so he makes sure he never finds out.

-On multiple occasions he’s heard socs or some mouthier greasers talking shit about Ponyboy at school, and together with Steve and Two-bit beat them senseless without any of the Curtis boys ever finding out. There’s a mutual agreement between the three of them that Darry and Soda have enough to worry about without worrying about Pony getting jumped at school, and none of them wanna hurt Pony’s pride, not even Steve.

-Really appreciates that Pony is able to tell when he doesn’t wanna talk and answers for him. Pony never gets it wrong and sometimes talking feels like such an effort so Johnny is really glad to have such a good friend

-Was the last person in the gang to meet Dally, since he was nursing some pretty bad injuries when Dally first came to Tulsa, and was laying low

-Hates Curly Shepard with a burning passion. Partially because he can SEE how terrible of an influence Curly is on Ponyboy, but some of it is just straight up jealousy. In Johnny’s mind Ponyboy is HIS best friend and Curly better be ready to fight if he thinks he can just waltz out of the reformatory and try and take his place in Pony’s life. Their rivalry got so bad at one point that after the third fistfight Tim and Darry made a mutual agreement to try and keep Johnny and Curly away from each other (with limited success).

-He and Ponyboy encourage each other’s smoking habits because if one of them runs out of cigarettes the other usually has at least half a pack left

-One of the old cowboys at Buck’s bar taught him to line dance and he’s really good at it

-Is indifferent to country music but pretends to love it just because of how horrified and pissed off Ponyboy gets at the mere prospect

-Is the best in the gang at poker by a lot. It drives Soda and Dally crazy for different reasons. Soda is mostly incredulous, but Dally is wicked competitive and hates losing

-Was the first to notice Curly liked Ponyboy in a more than friendly way when he realised the way Curly was teasing Ponyboy was the exact same way Two-bit teased his many blondes- fond with an undercurrent of heat. As soon as he realised it he walked across the room and socked Curly in the jaw. Obviously they fought, and it took Ponyboy, Tim Shepard, and two others from the Shepard gang to pull them off each other. Pony ignored both of them for a week straight afterwards which is the only reason they established an uneasy truce.

-He and Pony mutter sarcastic shit to each other when the gang is all hanging out together and make up dumb reasons as to why they’re laughing if anyone notices

-He’s actually pretty good friend’s with Two-bit’s little sister since he crashes at Two’s house almost as much as he crashes with the Curtis’ or with Dally

-Cordially detests Angela Shepard. He thinks it’d be wrong to hit a girl but Angela is protective of Curly and doesn’t take kindly to the fact he and Curly can’t seem to stop fighting each other. He thinks she shouldn’t take Curly’s side- Tim certainly doesn’t. In any case, they trade glares and frosty remarks but never tussle any worse than that, though Angela swears she’ll stab him if he breaks Curly’s nose again.

-He and Ponyboy are banned from being on each others team for any board or card game requiring teams because they’re too good at reading each other’s minds (Soda and Steve are also banned from being on a team together for the same reason). 

-Once helped Steve steal the hubcaps off a socs car in the lot

-Is convinced that Ponyboy is afraid of girls (no matter how much Pony protests) and thinks its the funniest shit ever

[ghostlychief]

gorgeous

Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader

summary: you’re drunk and you might be making fun of Ghost’s accent (lovingly ofc)

A/N: Inspired by Taylor Swift's song Gorgeous, specifically the lyrics: "You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk."

Warnings: drunk reader; minors DNI

wc: ~800

~*~*~

You probably should have stopped yourself after your second whiskey coke, but here you are on your third. One could say good decisions are never made when you’ve had more than two drinks, but you really are put your faith in the hands of the heavens tonight.

It’s been a long week.

You could also slightly place some of the blame on your convincing co-worker, Mara, for offering to buy you two out of the three drinks you’ve consumed tonight. Who wouldn’t want a free drink, let alone two?

You and Mara are sitting at the bar, laughing and talking about both of your shitty weeks, when all of a sudden, she stops and looks at something over your shoulder. Her eyes find their way back to yours and a smirk develops on her plump lips.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s here.” Your brows furrow and a small (albeit cute) pout forms on your lips. Your buzz is not helping, while you think about who could have shown up to warrant a reaction like that from Mara.

As you’re about to turn around, Mara quickly places a hand on your shoulder stopping you. “Wait, hold on.” Obviously, she can see something you can’t, and you’re itching to turn around to see who it is.

She places her hand on your forearm, “Don’t turn around just yet. Let him come to us.”

Ah, so it’s him. You have a hunch about who it is.

Your assumption is correct, when a large, warm hand is placed on your shoulder, and the owner of said hand says, “Fancy seeing you two here.”

You would know that accent anywhere, let alone, who owns that accent.

You lightly chuckle, and feel his hand lightly squeeze your shoulder, making small sparks light up and down your tummy.

You turn around in your chair so you can finally see him. He towers over you still, even though you’re on a raised bar stool and as you look up at him and meet his eyes, you grant him a smile.

His hair is slightly tousled, not doubt, slightly longer than the standard military grade hair length requirement, but you love the length of it. It suits him, you think.

In the dim light of the bar, you can still make out the scars that are scattered across his face. You’ve always had the urge to trace your fingertips along them, asking him about each one.

One might say you have liquid courage, and so your response to your very tall and handsome coworker is, “Fancy seeing you here,” in a very much so, exaggerated British accent. You may have also tried to replicate Ghost’s deep voice, which also added insult to injury.

You glance back at Mara who is holding herself back from laughing and when you glance back up at Ghost, you see that his eyebrow is quirked, yet his hand still comfortably rests on your shoulder.

“Your accent is funny.” You dig yourself deeper into the ground, but your foggy brain doesn’t really care. You love teasing your stoic coworker.

“Oh really?” You really love his deep voice. You’ll admit it.

Ghost has since moved, so now, he’s standing in between you and Mara, still seated at the bar. His hand leaves your shoulder, but now rests on the back of your chair. A gesture that makes you feeling warmer, and has you smiling deeper.

You nod your head and hum, “mm hm. But it’s okay because you’re tall, and cute.”

I am seriously going to regret this tomorrow.

You miss Ghost’s quick glance to Mara, who quietly winked at the man, encouraging him. Ghost leans down a bit, so he’s closer to your ear. The bar is quite loud, with everyone talking, and the music playing loud. So, his close proximity leaves a chill down your spine.

“Despite your poor efforts to imitate a British accent, I think you’re cute too.” His gruff voice pierces your ears, and you think you’ve caught on fire by now. No doubt, burning a bright crimson in his presence.

 You let out a soft laugh, forgoing your fake British accent. “I’m just messing around, it’s nice to see you here.”

Ghost lets out a soft laugh before asking, “Let me buy you a drink?”

You’re honestly surprised your coworker, who you’ve had a crush on for the longest time, is offering to buy you a drink. So, you of course say yes, and spend the rest of your evening talking the ear off to your coworker, him doing the same.

And when you wake up the next morning, you notice a text from Ghost, asking you on a date.

~*~*~

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok this is something I noticed before but the implications didn't really fully click until my... third watch? Plus 2nd manga read. Geez. But anyways

[ID: A screenshot from the 2011 Hunter x Hunter anime. Three Greed Island cards are shown over a blue background; the middle card being slightly bigger in the lineup. From left to right, they are Patch of Shore, Paladin's Necklace, and Blue Planet. End ID.]

At the end of Greed Island, the trio decide to take one card for each of them out of the game. Bisky takes Blue Planet, as was her original goal, but Gon and Killua's cards are the Paladin's Necklace and a transformed Accompany, respectively.

Reflecting their bond, their cards require the presence of the other to be truly useful. The Accompany cannot be taken as is. The Paladin's Necklace does nothing on its own. All of this is so that Gon can meet Ging, which Killua puts his card towards instead of something specifically for him alone (prioritizing Gon as usual), but it's also an Accompany, which is the only means in which they can stay together - their mutual want.

But it goes deeper than that. I wondered about the Accompany being transformed specifically into Patch of Shore before when it could've been any restricted slot card, but there is so much else going on at the end of the arc that my thoughts basically stopped at "well it's an odd card with no clear use" and "it's a card the protagonists spent a good deal of time working towards getting, so it's a recognizable callback to the audience" but oh man.

Gon probably would've been the one to transform that card. His card is the Paladin's Necklace, and that makes Killua's the Accompany. Disguising it as Patch of Shore, where Killua injured his hands, where Gon said that it has to be him, not only makes that card unequivocally Killua's, but also makes me think that this is some quiet way of Gon to show his appreciation for him.

The Accompany is his idea, after all, which says "I want you with me". Transforming it into Patch of Shore though, says "I don’t want to/I can’t do this without you."

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (asylum patient!Changmin) 7.4k, yandere behavior, asylum patients, psychiatry, medication, needles, restraints, kidnapping, manipulation (@starillusion13)

“You’re nice… and pretty… real pretty…”

You were taken aback by the sudden compliment. This whole time you had been talking, and he hadn’t said a word until now. A childish smile adorned his face, and you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it. Although you were glad he was behind a glass panel. Today was your first day on the job, and after getting through the facilities tour you were given a patient to sit down and talk with. Ji Changmin, patient 0598, was in the asylum for a list of reasons, and he refused to speak to any physiatrist. So, as a way to break you in, the senior residents thought it was a good idea to give you this mock session with him. No one expected him to speak. Especially you.

“Uh… thank… you… but I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here to talk about you and-”

“Nope. That’s not why you’re here. I get to meet every new doctor since I’m so quiet and well behaved. I don’t usually talk but I like you, and I want to talk to you.”

“Oh… well, unfortunately I won’t be your physiatrist, but there’s nothing wrong with talking to someone. We’re here to help.” You gave him a shy smile, and then your watch beeped. “My time is up, but I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“I don’t wanna talk to anyone else. I won’t. So I’ll see you later!”

Changmin had a big smile on his face as he waved, watching you leave the room. You stayed strong until you left the room, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. The other doctors had been watching, but the chief came over to you, Doctor Lee.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just got jitters since I was told he wouldn’t talk, and I didn’t think his voice would be so soft.”

“Apologies. I didn’t know he’d do that either, but I am glad to know he can talk.”

“Has he really never spoken before?”

“Not since he was first admitted. Doctor Choi has been trying to get him to speak for years, but he’s never uttered a word before today.”

“Then… is he gonna-”

“No, no, you just started. I’m not assigning you a patient so soon. You’re just gonna shadow some doctors and help where you can. We’ll start simple with you joining some group sessions led by Doctor Bae.”

“Alright.”

The first incident with patient 0598 only had you shaken up for a bit. Once you were with Doctor Bae things settled down and you could really get into your job. For the most part you helped with supervision and getting things for other doctors. You followed a few of them as they did their rounds and checked in with patients. Some needed more than psychiatric help so it was important to provide their medicine and make sure it was taken. When it came to meals there was a huge cafeteria. The lower part was for patients, whereas the second floor was for doctors. All patients were divided into one of three categories. 

The first group were the new patients, as well as those who were mostly calm and well behaved. The second group was filled with patients who required more hands-on care and certain doctors would be down there to keep an eye on them. As for the last group, they were deemed the dangerous ones. Those that needed more security presence to make sure no one caused trouble. You originally thought patient 0598 would have been in the first group, but to your surprise he was in the third. You watched from the balcony above as he got his food and then sat down alone in the corner. Everyone said he was well behaved, so you couldn’t understand why he was in the third group.

“You must be the new doctor.”

You were a bit startled when approached, but were quickly met with a friendly face. One of the other doctors had come over to you, holding out their hand with a smile on their face.

“I’m Doctor Kim, but you can call me Younghoon if it makes you comfortable.”

“Doctor Kim should be fine.” You shook his hand. “I’m-”

“Y/n, pleasure to meet you. It’s been a while since we had someone new.”

“Really?”

“Not all doctors jump at the chance to work at an asylum.”

“Yeah.”

“So, you interested in the dangerous ones?”

“What?”

“Many of the patients in group three are mine, and you seemed very intrigued by them. Curious, aren’t you?”

“I… well, a bit.”

“Ask away. As long as we’re not breaking doctor patient confidentiality.” Younghoon winked at you. “I’ll answer to the best of my ability. You are here to learn after all.”

“Right… I… well I don’t know if you know, but patient 0598, why is he in group three?”

“Changmin?”

“Yes. I was told he works with Doctor Choi but-”

“Chanhee does his best, but it’s more like he talks to a wall. As for why Changmin is in group three, well, he is dangerous.”

“I spoke with him earlier, and everyone says he’s well behaved.”

“He is, but the thing is he can’t be allowed to interact with patients from other groups.”

“Why?”

“Cause he doesn’t talk to doctors, but he’ll talk to other patients. He certainly has a way with words we don’t know about, so he’s a danger to others. At least in group three he knows better than to try and make conversation with these people.”

“So you’re isolating him and punishing him for no reason.”

“See what I mean, he talked to you once and now you’re defending him and looking out for him when he’s not even your patient.”

“… I…”

“All he did was call you pretty. I guess that’s all it takes.”

“Ya!” 

“Easy. I’m not trying to make a jab at you. It’s important to care, but you should only care about your patients. It’s your first day and you’ve already proved to yourself why he needs to be in group three.”

“That’s not true…”

“My advice, don’t ever talk to him again, even if Sangyeon asks you too.”

“What?”

“The chief.”

“But he said-” 

“It doesn’t matter. Changmin hasn’t spoken to a doctor in years, yet he talked to you. The reason the chief has all the newbies talk to Changmin is to see if someone will get him to open up. You did that, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re put in a room with him again. Refuse. If you ever talk to Changmin again, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Younghoon gave you a playful pat on the shoulder before walking off. His words rang in your mind, but you weren’t too sure you understood what he meant. Your thoughts were interrupted by the rumble of your stomach, and you went to get lunch. The food was pretty good, and Doctor Bae waved you over to join him at his table. You sat down, seeing Younghoon there, along with someone else.

“Be careful now, Chanhee.” Younghoon joked. “She’s out to steal your patient.”

“Ah, you’re the new doctor who got 0598 to talk, impressive.” The gentleman held out his hand. “I’m Doctor Choi Chanhee, pleasure to meet you.”

“Hello.”

“Younghoon tells me you’ve taken an interest in my patient.”

“More like… professional curiosity.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Leave her alone.” Doctor Bae interrupted. “Everyone is curious about those from group three, especially 0598. It’s the one patient all the doctors know.”

“Already on defense, huh, Jacob?” Younghoon teased. “I already told your newbie everything she needs to know about Changmin, so don’t worry.”

“I don’t even know what that means, but thanks I guess.”

“So, how are you taking things?” Chanhee asked. “Do you like the atmosphere, think you can make it here?”

“The structure here is good, and all the doctors seem to know what they’re doing and care about their patients. I’d say the atmosphere here is welcoming. I can’t imagine you guys deal with unruly patients often.”

“It is a rare sight.”

“I think I’ll like it here.”

“But do you think you’ll last?” Younghoon questioned.

“Younghoon.” Jacob hissed. “Behave before I throw you into group three myself.”

“You gonna send me to my people?”

“How do you… how do you treat patients from group three? Is their care different?”

“We don’t coddle our patients much. Very straightforward and direct.”

“The patients of group three tend to have criminal records.” Chanhee added. “So we must be more cautious. For the most part they get along well with each other, and are respectful towards the doctors. If there’s ever trouble, it’s rarely someone from group three.”

“That’s good to know.”

After lunch you continued following Jacob as he did his rounds. Most patients spend their days outside in the open space, especially after lunch, and you had a chance to see that. From what you noticed Jacob mostly worked with patients from the first group, and they were always friendly. A little later in the evening you sat with Jacob as he led a group session, getting the others to open up and share their burdens while providing some guidance and advice. It was nice to see him work towards making a difference.

The first few days you merely stuck with Jacob, and little by little he had you engage with patients more often, getting to know them and their needs. You were starting to get an idea as to what your routine would look like once you were assigned patients. To make it easier you’d be taking some of Jacob’s first, since you had already established a bit of a relationship. At the end of your first week Sangyeon had you come to his office, wanting to see how you were doing and adjusting to the new place. You were eager to do so, glad that you were seen as part of the team and not just a newbie anymore.

“It’s good to see you. How has it been doing rounds with Jacob?”

“He’s been very kind and patient with me, so I’ve been learning a lot.”

“That’s good. Since you’ll start seeing patients next week I created a list for you so you know who you’ll be treating.”

“Thank you.”

You took the file from Sangyeon, opening it up and being met with some familiar patients. Although when you got to the last page you froze.

“Uh… sir… why is-”

“I know he’s not exactly what you were expecting, but I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Sir, I don’t think I’m qualified to speak with him. He’s in the third group and-”

“Do you know why he’s here?”

“No. I haven’t inquired about him. It’s not my place.”

“I respect your professionalism. Although I still must ask this of you. Ji Changmin has been here since he was seventeen. He was admitted for aggressive behavior and being a danger to others. He’s mostly calm as you’ve seen, but he doesn’t speak to any doctors. His family makes yearly donations to this hospital to keep it operational and to help their son. You’re the first doctor he has spoken to. I’ve wanted nothing more than to help him, and I can see that you’ve been sent here for that purpose.”

“But-”

“Here me out for a moment. What I really want here is for you to talk to him, just that. Doctor Choi will help you outline sessions and choose talking points, so you just need to follow his plan. He’ll be listening in at all times, and make sure nothing happens. Do you think you can do that?”

“I… I’ll just follow the guidelines Doctor Choi gives me?”

“Precisely.”

“How long… how long do you intend for me to do this?”

“Unfortunately I can’t give you a proper answer, but I’m sure in time he can open up and will be able to speak with Doctor Choi directly.”

“Can I… can I think about it?”

“Sure. Take the weekend and get back to me on Monday.”

“Thank you.”

🖤

You did ponder over this request a lot, thinking about what Sangyeon said, while also remembering Younghoon’s warning. It was hard to decide who to trust. Younghoon works with dangerous patients, but Changmin doesn’t seem to fit that profile. He even told you Sangyeon would ask this of you, but he didn’t actually treat Changmin. Not to mention Sangyeon was in charge of the hospital. He oversaw all patients and wanted what was best for them. It was clear Changmin hadn’t properly been treated, and you had the chance to really help him. As a doctor, it would be unethical to refuse. So come Monday morning you told Sangyeon you’d accept his proposal, and he thanked you for making a good choice.

During the morning you meet with your new patients, Jacob following you around to offer his assistance when needed. Although after lunch you parted ways, heading over to the east wing of the hospital where those from the third group resided. Immediately you could tell how things were different. You had to pass through two doors of security before entering the east wing, and you had to show your ID multiple times to the guards. They always asked why you were there and checked their records to make sure you were supposed to be there. Once you got through all that Chanhee was there to greet you and welcome you. He said things would get a little easier once the guards recognized you.

“I told you to refuse.”

You jumped when you suddenly heard a voice, turning around to see Younghoon standing behind you. He gave you a questioning look, raising his brows in the process.

“So you better just be visiting.”

“I made the decision.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Look, I’m not actually treating Changmin.”

“Changmin? So you’re on a first name basis now?”

“No. Doctor Choi is basically just giving me a script to follow. I’m just trying to help both of them and hopefully lay down a path they could meet on.”

“This is still a bad idea.”

“Well Changmin isn’t your patient, and you said you shouldn’t care about other doctor’s patients. He’s technically mine now, so I will do my job.”

“Feisty. Well, just know, you can’t back out now.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“Hm, you’re gonna eat those words soon enough.”

You couldn’t really understand why Younghoon was acting that way, but it was the least of your worries. You went over the notes Chanhee had for you and were then led over to where you’d be meeting. The room was a modest size, as were all the others, except this one was different. A glass panel divided the room in two, and Changmin was on the other side. When he saw you walk in he jumped up with a big smile on his face.

“Hello! I knew we’d be seeing each other again! Gosh, you only got prettier.”

“Good afternoon. I’ll be your psychiatrist for the time being.”

“Great! Please take good care of me doctor!”

Changmin happily sat down, scooting his chair over so he could be as close to you as possible while still on the other side of the glass.

“How are you liking the hospital?” Changmin asked. “Everyone’s super friendly and-”

“Mr. Ji, I’m-”

“Changmin. Call me Changmin, please.”

“Alright then, Changmin. I appreciate your enthusiasm, although I’m not here to talk about me.”

“Ah, right, right. You’re here to learn about me and help me.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Okay, so, what do you want to know?”

“Well, let’s start off simple.” You glanced down at your notes. “You’ve been here for a long time, and you don’t really talk to anyone, isn’t that lonely?”

“Hm… a bit, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Do you think this loneliness started with your family?”

“My family? What do they have to do with this?”

“Your family is the reason you’re here. They sent you here to get help, saying you were a danger to yourself and others. Do you think that’s true?”

“Do you think it’s true? Am I a danger to others?”

“I don’t know enough about you to answer that.”

“But you could make an educated guess.” Changmin smiled brightly. “Am I dangerous?”

“You’re associated with group three, which labels you as dangerous, but like I said, I don’t know enough about you to answer.”

“So you’re gonna believe what everyone else says?”

“Changmin, I’m going to remind you that I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here for you and to help you.”

“It would be very helpful to know if you think I’m dangerous.”

You sighed. “Based on what I’ve seen, I don’t think you’re dangerous.”

“That’s right, I’m not. Do you wanna know something?”

“What would that be?”

“I wasn’t sent here because I was a danger to myself, they just didn’t want me hurting my brother.”

“… oh… why… why would you hurt your brother?”

“Cause he was born to replace me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you do your homework about me? I’m Ji Changmin!” He got up and stood on his chair. “The rightful heir to Ji Industries. It’s my birthright!”

“That’s enough 0598!”

Regardless of what group a patient was in, if one got too rowdy they’d have to be removed, and that also applied to sessions. Once Changmin had started shouting and moving around so much you knew security would walk in shortly. They grabbed Changmin and pinned him against the glass. All you could do was watch as his hands were tied behind his back, but he didn’t seem to mind. He had a big smile on his face as stared at you, ultimately being escorted out of the room. A moment later Chanhee came in, having noticed that you had yet to move.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, fine, just… that was all weird.”

“How about we go to my office and go over the session.”

“Sure.”

Chanhee helped you to your feet and the two of you went to his office. He got you a cup of tea and you sat before his desk. He looked over his own notes, giving you a moment to steady yourself and process.

“So, what did you get out of that session?”

“Well, you know him best, I’m not sure my opinion helps.”

“This is also a learning experience for you.”

“I suppose. We didn’t get to talk much, but he seemed to care very much about how others perceive him, specifically me. He wouldn’t allow the conversation to go elsewhere until I gave him an answer. Although, he did divert to that line of questioning when I brought up his family. I guess that’s a sensitive subject for him.”

“You didn’t look into him beforehand?”

“I didn’t know he was someone important. Sorry.”

“No, no, it was better that you went in blind. Things might have played out differently if you knew about his family.”

“What did he mean? When he said his brother was born to replace him?”

“I believe he’s referring to the fight he had with his younger brother. The one that led to him being admitted here. As you can imagine, he was set to inherit the family business but it seemed he wouldn’t be able to do so. The father then changed the title of heir to the youngest and that created a wedge between the two.”

“That’s what made him aggressive. He felt betrayed and abandoned by his family.”

“Yes. His family only tolerated so much, but when he seriously injured his younger brother they sent him to the hospital to get better.”

“I see. He was sent here by people he didn’t trust, so he won’t be inclined to trust the doctors around him, but for some reason he seems to trust me.”

“The reason isn’t entirely relevant.”

“I know, what matters is that we help him. I’m a means for you to get through to him and help him return home.”

“Precisely. For the time being I won’t schedule another session to give you both a chance to breathe. I’ll let you know when you should come back to the east wing.”

“Thank you, Doctor Choi.”

You couldn’t get the session out of your mind, and when you got home curiosity got the better of you, so you searched up information about the Ji family. It wasn’t all that surprising when the only articles that came up were all in relation to Ji Industries. A few spoke of the CEO but not the family. There wasn’t really anything about the heir either, which is not all that shocking. A family like that can certainly pay to keep their names out of the news. You closed your laptop having learned nothing, but instead left with more questions. Your opinion of Changmin didn’t change much, which was probably for the best.

🖤

The next morning you had to focus on your actual job, your actual patients, so you pushed your curiosities to the back of your mind and prepared for the day.

“You. Come with me.”

You had barely been checking in with Jacob when you were suddenly grabbed and dragged off by Younghoon. His grip on you was rather firm, and you couldn’t free yourself despite how hard you tried. You did ask him to explain himself, but he was very determined to take you somewhere. Next thing you knew you were heading to the east wing. Security didn’t even stop either of you, just opened the doors and let you through. You thought it very odd, but this area was Younghoon’s department, so surely he knew the guards well. Meaning that since he had you in tow, they weren’t gonna bother checking either of you.

“Younghoon, what is this!?”

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

You were walking down a hall towards the patients’ rooms. You noticed a door open all the way at the end, and a few guards and orderlies inside. That seemed to be where you were going. You were starting to feel uneasy, but you couldn’t do much as you were dragged into the room.

“Here. You happy now?”

As you walked into the room you noticed the patient was in a straight jacket and restrained to their bed. They were screaming and thrashing, desperately trying to free themselves, and then they saw you. Changmin smiled and rested his head against the pillow.

“Good morning.”

“… morning…”

“See. She’s here, so you can stop throwing a tantrum. Let’s go.” Younghoon pushed you out of the room. “Someone get him his breakfast.”

You were still processing what had just happened, and really unsure of how to respond. Although you eventually found the words.

“What… uh… what just happened?”

“It’s what you think.”

“Which is?”

“Changmin started throwing a bitch fit when Chanhee told him that he wouldn’t be seeing you today. He really didn’t take that well and had to be sedated and restrained, but that didn’t stop him. So I went to go get you. It’s probably best you come pay him a visit every morning, for everyone’s sake.”

“Absolutely not!” Chanhee’s voice interrupted. “What is she doing here?”

“You know wha-”

“I explicitly told you not to bring her! Giving him what he wants is the last thing we should do!”

“And restraining him was going so well.” Younghoon countered. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Changmin isn’t your patient!”

“Then maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to bring her up here every morning, like you’re bringing Changmin a gift. Maybe he’ll like you more if you do. Then you could actually do your job and not use a surrogate.”

“Both of you stop it.” You cut in. “If you had just told me what was going on from the start I would have come along. And if necessary I can come by every morning.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Chanhee stated. “It’s not-”

“Should we ask the chief?” Younghoon questioned. “Hm?”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t ever go behind my back on matters pertaining to my patients again. Got it?”

“He’s more like our patient than yours, since he doesn’t talk to anyone. Well, actually, I guess he’s her patient technically.”

“Whatever. You can go now y/n, very sorry to have troubled you.”

“I understand. I’ll see you later then.”

You returned to your usual work station. Your mind was still running but you had other patients to prioritize. As the day went on you heard some chatter about you and what had happened in the morning, seems news travels fast around here. You thought you’d get questions about it, but no one really brought it up. That made sense, after all, Changmin was a special patient, a VVIP technically. Talking about him in general could cause problems. It did become routine to go over to the east wing just to say hello to Changmin every morning. He was always so happy to see you. In a strange way you could say the same. Although once a new session had been scheduled you didn’t have to see him first thing as you’d be seeing him later on.

“Doctor! I’ve missed you so much! It’s good to see you again!”

“Hello, Changmin, how have you been?”

“I’m the same. What about you? It’s not fair I don’t get to see you so often.” 

“I do see you everyday.”

“But I want to talk to you and spend time together. I’m your patient, we should have a session everyday.”

“Actually, you’re still Doctor Choi’s patient, I’m just helping out. He sets up the sessions.”

“You don’t have to do what you’re told.”

“I’m an employee here, Changmin, I have a boss, and certain procedures to follow in order to do my job. It also makes sure everyone is safe. I have no problem following the rules.”

“Those rules keep me away from you.”

“Hm, you don’t like authority figures?”

“No one should tell you what to do.”

“Well, those people are in place for a reason. You know, one can point to parents being an authority figure. You didn’t like doing what your parents told you, did you? Although to be fair that is normal. A parent and their child are prone to disagree at times.”

“That reminds me, I have something to show you.”

“Changmin, you’re avoiding-”

“Look!”

You knew bringing up his parents would be difficult, but it was an important point to discuss. He was quick to ignore the mention of them, and you intended to bring it back but were surprised by what Changmin had. He held up a little doll, something he clearly made himself. The doll had on some clothes and a white coat, bits of yarn making up the hair. What stood out was that it looked like you, at least what you had been wearing on your first day. It wasn’t entirely shocking giving arts and crafts were a monitored activity in the hospital. The only problem there was that Changmin was in group three, and none of those patients were allowed to do arts and crafts for fear of them getting their hands on scissors or needles.

“You don’t like it? I worked really hard on it…”

“Did you… did you make that…?”

“Yup. It turned out great, right?”

“When did you make that? How? You’re not-”

“That’s my secret.” Changmin giggled, hugging the doll. “I don’t like talking to you behind a glass wall. Do you think our next session can be in another room? You can tie me up if that’ll make you feel better.”

“No… uh… Changmin… why did you make a doll of me?”

“I only get to see you in the morning, and we don’t have daily sessions. I was hoping you could hug it for a bit so it would smell like you, but I guess you don’t like it.”

“I… it’s odd… Changmin… I didn’t think you’d make such a thing. Perhaps one of the guards can take it and-”

“No! It’s mine! The only person allowed to touch besides me is you! Nobody else.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do, but we should get back to what we were discussing earlier.”

“I just wanna talk to you.”

“We are talking. You and me.”

“No. You’re just reading Doctor Choi’s notes, you’re not actually caring for me. You’re a liar.”

“Changmin. That’s not fair. I’m still new here and it would be highly unethical for me to treat you. I don’t have enough experience or knowledge. It wouldn’t be right if I did this myself.”

“But I only want you! I won’t talk anymore if Doctor Choi is just using you like a puppet.”

“Changmin, I’m trying to help, honestly. You’ve been here for so long, and you’ve been so quiet and isolated. Don’t you wanna go home some day?”

“Home… would you still be with me if I left this place?”

“How would we ever know if you stay quiet and stay here.”

“Do you promise?”

“Promise what?”

“That you’ll stay with me when I get out?”

“I don’t know if-.”

“Answer me!” Changmin stood and slammed his fist against the glass. “Answer me honestly right now!”

“Changmin, please calm down before-”

“Promise me! Please, I don’t want anyone else…”

“Chang-”

The door on his side suddenly opened and guards came in. Unlike last time he did put up a fight, screaming and demanding an answer from you. In the fight he had dropped his little doll. As he was dragged out of the room you got up and went to the otherside, getting his doll and going after him. You yelled for the guards to stop and caught up to them. Changmin had his hands tied behind his back, and he was panting, but he looked at you with hopeful eyes. You gave him a simple smile and placed the doll in his hands.

“Look, I know things are difficult but I-”

“Don’t answer him.” Younghoon came up from behind and placed a hand over your mouth, pulling you away. “Get Changmin to his room.”

This time Changmin didn’t scream, but complied and was escorted away. Younghoon kept hold of you and dragged you along, heading towards the entrance of the east wing. It wasn’t until you were by the guards that he let you go.

“What the hell was that?”

“What were you thinking? Were you seriously gonna promise him something?”

“No, wait, how do you know what we were talking about?”

“Every available doctor listens in on your session. You were really just poking the bear bringing up his family like that.”

“It’s the root of the problem here, we need to talk about it.”

“And he’s gonna avoid the subject.”

“Then I’ll keep trying.”

“You think Chanhee is gonna let you have another session?”

“I-”

“The boy made a doll of you, that’s not normal.”

“I know that!” You sighed. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t compromise yourself for the sake of someone else, let alone a patient. Honestly, you should transfer.”

“What?”

“If you keep seeing Changmin, there will be problems. You can’t put yourself in there with him again.”

“I’m trying to help him.”

“Are you? He’s never thrown a fit before, not until he met you. Trust me, this is gonna end badly if you stay.”

“I appreciate the unsolicited advice, but I’m going to do what’s best for my patient.”

“Wow, so now he is your patient.” Younghoon scoffed. “Alright then, just remember I tried to help you before you got fucked. See you around.”

You didn’t take kindly to Younghoon’s words, but you weren’t gonna give him some sort of remark either. Even though he had left you at the entrance to the east wing you went off to find Chanhee, needing to discuss what had happened. Chanhee’s first concern was you, wanting to make sure you were alright. He apologized afterwards, not knowing how Changmin had gotten such a doll, or that the session would go in such a way.

“I don’t want you seeing him again.”

“Chanhee, I-”

“No. He’s exhibiting obsessive behavior and could wind up endangering you. I know he only talks to you, but it’s not good for either of you to meet. I’ll speak with the chief about this, so don’t worry.”

“But-”

“He’s my patient y/n, and I’m not gonna put you in danger. You could wind up doing more harm than good.”

“Ah… sorry…”

“Don’t blame yourself. We gave this a shot, so at least we don’t have to ponder on what if. I’ll also get that doll away from him, I have no idea how he got it in the first place.”

“Maybe leave the doll. He’ll probably be very upset if you take it.”

“Are you sure? It’s already a weird item for him to have.”

“If it keeps him out of trouble it’s fine.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but you can go now. There won’t be anymore morning visits, or a reason for you to come to the east wing. Thank you for all your help.”

“Yeah. Let me know if you need anything else.”

🖤

You expected to hear from the chief, but you never did. Chanhee probably really hashed it out in regards to removing you from Changmin’s care. You wondered how he was doing, but you didn’t hear any whispers about him, and you couldn’t just go ask. It was better this way. You weren’t at all qualified to help him out, but maybe talking to you for a while will encourage him to open up to Chanhee. You focused on your own patients, getting comfortable in your position and feeling like you were actually helping. Jacob would still give you pointers and help you where you needed it. Even the others provided advice too.

Although Younghoon had given you the cold shoulder after that day. You’d see him at lunch, and sometimes he’d sit at the table with you, but he rarely said anything to you. He and Chanhee both kept quiet about Changmin, and of course you weren’t gonna ask. It shouldn’t bother you, since you and Younghoon don’t really work together, but you weren’t a fan of this silent treatment. You weren’t gonna say anything about it and just do your job, he already had a lot on his plate from working with patients of group three. You thought you’d never see him outside the lunchroom again, but you were strangely surprised one day.

“Come with me.”

As you walked out of a session Younghoon grabbed your arm and started pulling you along. It seemed that he had been waiting for you. This time around there wasn’t much urgency or aggression in his actions, but he still lacked an explanation.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll see.”

“Younghoon, if something is wrong just tell me.”

“…”

“I have no business in the east wing anymore, so if you’re not gonna-”

“He wants to see you.”

“Chanhee?”

“…”

You sighed. “Has he been throwing tantrums?”

“He’s been very quiet and patient.”

“Then why-”

“Just come along.”

You got through security fairly quickly, Younghoon keeping a hand on you the whole time. Once in the east wing you felt a chill run down your spine. Something was telling you that you shouldn’t be here, and your instincts were right. As you were walking down a hall the lights suddenly turned off. For a moment you were drenched in darkness, then red lights illuminated everything followed by a siren.

“Let’s go!”

Younghoon began running, dragging you along. Your mind was still trying to process, and next thing you knew you were in an empty room, one that was used for sessions. Younghoon let you go and locked the door, glancing out the window. When you looked over you saw guards running by, and heard some muffled yells.

“What’s going on?”

“Lockdown. I’m sure orientation didn’t go into detail, but when that happens we’re supposed to get into a secure room and avoid all patients.”

“Oh… how long will this last?”

“No idea. It depends on what caused the lockdown. Although it could take at least half an hour since all patients and doctors need to be accounted for.”

“So now we just wait.”

“Yup.”

You were a bit nervous. The last place you wanted to be during a lockdown was the east wing, but at least you weren’t alone. You sat down on the floor, going through your phone to pass the time. Younghoon stayed by the door, watching the halls. After a while though he came over and sat by you.

“How’s the job?”

“Fine. I’ve been enjoying it, helping others that is.”

“The job is rewarding.”

There was suddenly a knock at the door. You tensed up a bit but Younghoon’s calm demeanor put you at ease. The both of you stood up, but then Younghoon pinned you to the wall. You didn’t even get the chance to question him before you felt the needle in your neck. You screamed, reaching up to get the needle out but the contents had already been emptied into you. All you could do was stare in disbelief as you started to feel dizzy.

“What…”

Younghoon reached into your coat pocket and took your phone before helping you slide back down to the floor.

“I warned you. What Changmin wants, he gets.”

You could vaguely make out Younghoon walking away and opening the door. You saw a blurry figure outside the room, and then the two exchanged items. Then the door shut again and you were with someone else. It didn’t take long to realize who.

“Neither of us have to be tied up this time.”

“… changmin… what… what are you…”

“Easy. I’m not gonna hurt you or anything. I just wanna talk, just you and me.”

“… this… this isn’t… others…”

“Don’t worry about that. No one’s gonna bother us. Some people from group two started fighting, and those from three took advantage to cause more trouble. We’ll be alone for a good while.”

“… how… how do you know…?”

Changmin gave a knowing smile. “Like I said, I wanted to talk to you. This way it’s just us, no one listening in, and no interruptions. I can be honest with you now.”

“… about what…?”

“Everything you’ve been curious about. For starters, I’m not crazy. My parents didn’t send me here to get help, they just wanted to get rid of me.”

“… what…?”

“It’s true. My father wasn’t happy with me. I wasn’t living up to his expectations so he figured my brother could do a better job. I heard the news when he broke it to everyone else, at the board meeting. Of course I got upset, but I didn’t think they’d go so far as to send me away to make sure I didn’t cause problems. What kind of parents send their kid to an insane asylum just so they don’t have to worry about them?”

“… changmin…”

“I know it’s probably not what you expected to hear, that I’m actually innocent in all this, but it’s okay. I’ve been patient, and I’m gonna get out of here soon.”

“… you can’t… you can’t just break out…”

“Who said anything about that? When you’ve been wrongfully admitted to an asylum and the doctor has been holding you here for years, well, it’s easy to walk out.”

“… what do you mean… what are you gonna do to Chanhee…?”

“Nothing bad. At most his license will be removed, maybe some jail time, but I won’t press charges so it’ll be a light sentence.”

“… don’t… don’t-”

“I’m not hurting anyone. I just wanna get out of here and reclaim what is mine. I’ve been patient and plotting. I’m not the only one who wasn’t happy with my father’s decision to remove me as heir. Many others have been supporting me too.”

“… regardless… you need a doctor evaluation… and I won’t-”

Changmin giggled. “Don’t be silly y/n, I’m not gonna ask you to do my evaluation. You’re not qualified, but you know who is, don’t you?”

“… younghoon… he… he works for you… doesn’t he…?”

“He works with me, and he’s been very helpful. Although at times he does as he wants too, but I know I can count on him.”

“… Changmin… I know what your family did was wrong… but… what are you gonna do… once you’re out…? You… you won’t hurt them, right?”

“Why are you worried about them? You should worry about me, you should be happy I’m getting out and taking back my life.”

“… but why… why me… what did I…”

“I like you… and I want to be able to give you everything. I just can’t do that while I’m in here.”

“You… you don’t have to… go so far… let’s just talk, you and me… honestly… none of this-”

“I knew you wouldn’t like what I had to say, but I didn’t want to lie to you and pretend. Which is why I did all this. Now I can’t have you getting in my way so I’ll have Younghoon look after you, but don’t worry, when I get out of here I’m going to take you with me.”

“Huh…?”

Changmin only smiled and got up, heading over to the door. You had gotten some of your strength back and managed to stand, but that’s really all you could do. Next thing you knew a few orderlies had come into the room and were restraining you.

“What… what is this…?”

“The best way to keep you safe is to keep you in one place. I can’t have you going home or telling others about me.”

“Changmin, you can’t do this!”

“They’ll treat you well.”

“Changmin!” You struggled with the orderlies. “You don’t like being told what to do, it’s not fair if you do this to me!”

“This is different though. I care about you and am I doing this for your own good. It’s okay if you’re mad at me, I know you’ll forgive me for it later.”

“Changmin, wait, this isn’t-”

You wound up with a gag in your mouth, being dragged out of the room. As you were taken out into the hall you noticed Younghoon leaning against the wall. He gave you a smile, but you merely stared and tried to yell at him. He followed behind as you were taken further into the east wing, towards a place you had never been. From what you could see it seemed to be the isolation area. You were taken into a room and pinned to the bed, completely restrained. You fought against the restraints, but it was no use. You only calmed down a bit when Changmin sat at the edge of the bed.

“This will only be for a little while, promise, and I’ll visit you every day.” Changmin laid down and placed his head on your chest listening to your heartbeat. “I’m glad I met you, and I hope we can start over once we get out of here.”

Even if you could speak you weren’t sure you had the words. You glanced towards the door, seeing Younghoon outside swinging around some keys. His previous warning rang in your head. You really had no idea what mess you had gotten into, but you were certainly screwed now.

“I should go, big day tomorrow since I’m meeting my lawyer. I’ll be back later.”

Changmin placed a kiss on your head before heading out of the room and shutting the door. You heard it lock and began screaming into the gag and trying to free yourself. All that did was exhaust you and you ultimately gave up. If you were gonna escape your psycho patient it wasn’t gonna be like this. You needed a plan, you needed time, but you weren’t sure how much of that you had. While in the asylum he was in control, but it sounded like things wouldn’t be any different on the outside. You should have gone somewhere else, you should have listened to the warnings, now you could only wonder. 

[fantasyescapes17]

Patience (Part 1)

An elaborate charade- that is what your life has been for these past few years, and it has taken the help of more than one person to balance your delicate lies and secrets. Now entering your final season as an eligible young lady seeking wedded bliss, will you be able to keep up the act in order to achieve your dreams?

Genre: Choi Seungcheol x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Jeonghan's sister so your last name is Yoon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 4.1k+

Part 2

Series Masterlist

"I'm afraid the upcoming season will be Miss Yoon's final opportunity to secure herself a decent husband," the obnoxious woman remarked. 

She did not seem embarrassed that the subject of her gossip (i.e, you) sat immediately across from her in the lavish parlour and well within earshot. She looked straight at you and silently dared you to respond to her callous comment. 

You did not indulge her. You merely sipped your tea. 

"Oh, surely not," her friend replied with a hint of embarrassment. "You mustn't say that, Mrs. Patty! Miss Yoon still has plenty of time before we can write her off as an old maid. She should be perfectly eligible for another two or three seasons, I dare say."

"She might have been, if not for that darling younger sister of hers. I believe little Miss Mina is eighteen now, and will be making her debut in society next season. Am I correct, Miss Yoon?" Mrs. Patty demanded of you. 

You couldn't ignore a question addressed directly to you. You placed your teacup on the table and nodded reluctantly. 

"Yes, Mother believes that my sister should be ready to debut next year," you replied softly. 

Miss Patty looked triumphant. "Well! There you have it! Anyone who has laid eyes on Miss Mina knows that she is the loveliest little creature and I am sure her paltry dowry will not prevent an eligible man from proposing to her. Miss Mina will be snatched up  instantly- and then what shall happen to our dear Miss Yoon? With her younger sister married before her, she won't have a chance!"

The other woman frowned. "Indeed, Miss Mina is uncommonly beautiful. She will have her pick of eligible men."

You rose from your seat abruptly. "Pardon me, ladies. I shall call for some more tea and cakes- we seem to be running short."

You exited the parlour before they had a chance to object, and cursed your mother for leaving you alone to handle the guests. Mother should have known that these infuriating women would show up the instant they heard that the Yoons had arrived in London for the season.

You turned towards the kitchens, hoping that the maids would not offer to help and make your journey redundant. Luckily, the servants were busy unpacking and carrying in your family's belongings. It had been a long journey from the countryside to your London abode- but a necessary one. The Yoon family could not absent themselves from the London season when they had two eligible members of marriageable age.

You turned the corner of the main hallway and came face to face with the other eligible Yoon. Your half-brother, Jeonghan. 

"Jeonghan!" you called out to him hopefully. "Are you going out? Will you take me with you?"

Jeonghan was in the process of lacing up his riding gear and stood to greet you. As your father's only son from his first marriage, Jeonghan became the heir to the entire Yoon estate upon your father's passing. 

"I'm afraid not, sister- I am going out riding with the Lees. You would be required to bring a chaperone," he replied slyly, reminding you, quite unnecessarily, that you could not be seen in public in the company of other single men without a female chaperone present. 

You sighed. "All right- but could you stop by the parlour room before you leave?"

"Why? So that Mrs. Patty may set up a meeting for me with her third niece? There are many things I would do for you, dear sister, but subjecting myself to Mrs. Patty is not among them," Jeonghan replied calmly as he continued to tie the straps of his riding gear. "I am sacrificing plenty for you already. I shall have my hands full at the Grisham's ball tomorrow."

You blinked. "What will happen at the Grisham's ball?"

"I have heard that a certain Mr. Hessington has expressed an interest in you. We shall have to take precautions to ensure he does not find the opportunity to express this interest in front of your mother."

"Oh dear. What does Hessington want?" you despaired. 

Jeonghan smirked. "He wants marriage. They all do. That is the purpose of this elaborate charade of having a season and attending all these social events, is it not? To find a suitable partner in  marriage?"

"Jeonghan, there is only one season left," you reminded him miserably. You reached for your brother's arm. "You must make sure nobody proposes to me this season. From next year everyone will focus on Mina and I will be forgotten- and once she is married then my prospects will be entirely extinguished. You must ensure nothing comes in the way of this."

Jeonghan sighed. "You must be the only woman in London who is actively trying to make herself less eligible for marriage."

"And I have been doing a wonderful job so far. Mrs. Patty said herself that I'm as good as an old maid next season if Mina gets engaged before me. And she surely will be. After that, they'll throw me aside with the old maids and governesses and widows."

"Six months more?"

You nodded eagerly. "Six months more. I will be in your debt forever, Jeonghan."

He sighed. "You certainly shall be. I've become nothing short of a villain in my step-mother's eyes since you persuaded me to tell her that I had reduced your dowry. She has most of the ton convinced that I am an evil brother stealing his sisters' rightful inheritance."

"But we had to do that. A large dowry would make me attractive to men looking to marry for a fortune," you reminded him. 

Jeonghan sighed. "I know. All the same, I've set aside your money. You and Mina will have your dowries once this charade is over. All of the dowry, I mean, not the paltry amount I told your mother you would receive."

You shook your head with a smile. 

"I don't need it."

"Don't refuse money when it's offered to you, good god, woman, have you lost your senses?" Jeonghan said lightly. He placed his hands on his hips and smiled back at you. "You seem more cheerful  than usual."

"We're almost at the end of this charade. Six more months," you replied excitedly. 

"Well, do try to look less cheerful. For all the ton knows, you're a woman with little dowry, no prospects, a prettier younger sister, and getting on in age. People will begin to wonder what you have to be so happy about."

You smiled to yourself. 

You had plenty to be happy about. And Mrs. Patty and the rest of the ton could choke on their tea and biscuits- they would never find out.

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

Your mother maintained a tight grip on your arm as she steered you around the corners of the large ballroom on the Grisham's summer estate. 

Your arm was beginning to feel numb.

"Now," your mother said firmly. "Don't you be discouraged by what Mrs. Patty says. You're a young woman of good breeding and though you're not nearly as charming as Mina, there's nothing wrong with you. Lesser women than you have secured wealthy husbands, do you understand?'

You resisted the urge to sigh. "Yes, mother."

"But you mustn't become lax about this. You need to consider what might happen to us if … if that boy Jeonghan decides to cast us out. You and your sister must marry well before that happens."

You turned to your mother in surprise. "Mother! Jeonghan would never do such a thing!"

Your mother had very little love for her stepson and she was not shy about admitting it. "Well, he's already stolen half your dowries, there's no knowing what he'll do next. We may be on the streets soon. Even sooner, if he decides to marry and his new wife decides to be rid of us. Your marriage is important."

You sighed. "Yes, mother."

"Now put on a smile and look a little more graceful."

You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders. It was a delicate line you walked in social events such as these. You had to look dignified and well-mannered enough to satisfy your mother, but not so captivating that you captured the attention of any potential suitors. It only got easier with time. You were older and consequently less attractive than the young girls in the room, and the ton would certainly have heard the news of your reduced dowry. 

You tried not to make eye contact with any men as you quietly moved through the crowd like a wallflower. You were suddenly and abruptly met by a very tall man that appeared before you. 

"Miss Yoon. May I have the pleasure of the next dance?"

You breathed a sigh of relief as you recognised the man. He had a mischievous smile on his face. "Mr. Kim! Oh thank heavens, I was worried that it was an actual suitor."

Mr. Kim Mingyu had the decency to look offended as he took your hand and swept you skillfully towards the dance floor for a lively waltz. 

"Do you think that we would allow an actual suitor within ten feet of you? We've been doing this for three years now, Miss Yoon. We're professionals now, I dare say. There's one of us stationed in each section of the room and we are ready to intervene in case any man shows the slightest bit of  interest towards you."

You laughed. "Well, don't I feel well-protected."

"You are."

"I'm very sorry that you all have to spend your social gatherings watching out for me in this manner. Hopefully, this is the last season that this will be required," you apologised honestly. 

"Nonsense. I rather enjoy it," Mingyu chuckled. 

You shook your head. "I don't believe you. Surely you would rather save your dances for a woman in whom you have a genuine interest? I notice that the young lady in cerulean blue over there cannot keep her eyes away from us."

Mingyu cleared his throat and took a quick peek in the direction you nodded your head. "Ah. Well, that can't be helped. She's better off without me in any case, I've garnered a reputation as a rake. Dancing with me would only tarnish her prospects."

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he replied simply. 

"I suppose I cannot argue- being in the unique position of not caring about my own prospects makes me a poor judge. May I ask what you have done to have yourself labelled as a rake by the ton?" you enquired. 

Mingyu smiled. "Other than being naturally charming, rich and handsome?"

"I'm afraid those qualities make for an eligible bachelor, Mr. Kim, not a rake."

Mingyu merely chuckled without offering further explanation as the dance came to an end. He gracefully led you off to the side, where you were drawn into a conversation with some other co-conspirators- namely Mr. Lee Seokmin and Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. 

"Miss Yoon," was the cheerful greeting you received from a grinning Mr. Kwon. "I hope your quest to prevent all offers of matrimony fares well? I am pleased to report that the ton seems to be losing interest in you."

You smiled gratefully. "You bring glad tidings, Mr. Kwon. But I heard that Mr. Hessington…."

"Mr. Hessington is being informed of your reduced dowry and impending state of poverty at this very moment," Mr. Lee Seokmin reassured you. His eyes subtly darted towards the other end of the ballroom where your half-brother was in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hessington himself. You could not hear what was being spoken, but there was no mistaking Mr. Hessington's alarmed expression at whatever Jeonghan said to him.  

"Delightful," you replied. 

"We have further pleasant tidings for you," Mr. Kwon continued. His hand slid into his waistcoat and he cast a furtive glance around before withdrawing something and slipping it surreptitiously into your hands. You tucked it away into the folds of your gown hastily- but not before ascertaining that it was a small envelope. 

Your eyes brightened in anticipation. "Could it be…"

"Indeed," Mr. Kwon replied with a large smile. "I was able to stop by a certain estate that shall remain unnamed on my way to London, and catch up with a dear friend of ours. He bid me to deliver a letter by hand that he dared not risk sending by post, lest it be intercepted by unwelcome parties. It will be safe, I trust, in your possession?” 

You couldn’t hold back your smile. “Very safe, indeed.”

“I certainly hope so, because your mother approaches us and she looks rather red in the face.”

Your plans to sneak away to a quiet corner and read your letter were thwarted instantly by the approach of your mother. She was flushed and huffing, although she attempted to calm herself when she noticed that you were in the company of Mr. Kwon and Mr. Lee- while they were not the most eligible bachelors in the room, they were eligible and rich enough for your mother to greet them with her politest smile.  

“Mr. Kwon, Mr. Lee. What a pleasure to see you in London,” she tittered.  “I do hope you will find the time to call on us for tea later this week."

They both greeted her politely and accepted her invitation with the usual graces, before your mother took hold of your arm and steered you away from them. 

"Is everything all right, mother?" you asked, concerned. 

"All right? I have just heard- the most terrible news- Mr. Hessington had expressed an interest in courting you but that odious brother of yours has gone and told him about your dowry! I have half a mind to expose that conniving little man for what he is- a thief, a monster-"

"Mother, you must calm down," you insisted gently. "There must be some misunderstanding-"

Your mother was distraught. "Oh, what shall we do? If you are not married this season- we shall be left on the streets unless Mina marries exceedingly well but if that boy Jeonghan continues to ruin her prospects as well-"

"Nobody could ruin Mina's prospects. She is the sweetest, prettiest creature and you know everyone will fall in love with her when she comes into society. Perhaps we should accept that my time is coming to an end, mother…."

"No! No, you cannot give up, my dear. We shall find you a husband this season!"

You sighed. "Yes, mother-"

"Go, go back to Mr. Kwon and Mr. Lee- perhaps one of them will ask you to dance, they seem like nice young gentlemen and the evening is not yet over…"

You extricated yourself from your mother- but instead of returning to company, you slid along the length of the ballroom until you succeeded in finding a remote and private corner behind a table of refreshments and some heavy curtains. You eagerly pulled out the small envelope Soonyoung had given you and unfolded its contents as your heart swelled in anticipation. 

My love,

It has been too long since we last spoke. I hope you and your family are well. Although I have met your brother a few times this year and heard news of you from him, it saddens me that you must always be so far away from me. 

I will be travelling to London on business next week- I may not be able to stay the entire season, as you know well, but may I be so bold as to ask for a glimpse of your beautiful smile while I am in the city? I would be honoured if you would grant me a dance at Almack's on Thursday night. But do not put yourself to trouble, my love- if the thought of meeting me in public makes you uneasy or if your feelings for me have changed during our separation, know that I would never resent you. I desire nothing more than your happiness and well-being. 

Forever yours

S. 

Your heart danced wildly as you tucked the contents back into the folds of your dress. It had been too long since you had received a letter from Seungcheol- a few close calls with your nosy mother intercepting your mail had made it too dangerous for him to write to you by normal post. 

But to finally see him again after so many months apart! And on Thursday, so soon! You had to turn your face to the wall to hide your giddy smile. Three years of a secret, clandestine courtship had not diminished your adoration of the man in the slightest. You still felt as strongly for Mr. Choi Seungcheol as you had the very first time he smiled at you with his bright smile and took your hand in his gentle grasp for your very first dance, so many years ago. 

You took a moment to compose yourself (it would not be appropriate to be seen looking so giddy) and slipped out of your corner. Your brother had been poking around at the refreshment table and he approached you when he saw you- Jeonghan's expression was grim. 

"I think I shall avoid dining at home for the time being," Jeonghan told you drily. "I fear my step-mother may really intend to poison me for what I have done tonight."

You sighed. You were not ignorant of how much Jeonghan had sacrificed for your sake. "I am sorry for the trouble I have put you through because of all this, Jeonghan. I will try to calm my mother."

His eyes softened. "I don't require an apology from you, sister."

"Gratitude, then?" you offered gently. 

"If you could keep your mother away from any sharp objects or poisonous substances, that should be sufficient recompense for now," he replied with a chuckle. "So. I heard from Mr. Kwon that a certain Mr. Choi will be in London in a few days."

You bit back a smile. "Yes."

Jeonghan patted you on the arm gently. "I am glad you will have a chance to see him. Perhaps we can arrange to have your mother occupied elsewhere for the evening…"

You shook your head. "I will handle mother myself, Jeonghan," you reassured him. "You have done plenty. "

Jeonghan looked contemplative for a moment. "I sincerely hope you and Seungcheol can be happy together soon, sister. I would not have put my own reputation at stake if I did not hold his character- and yours-  in the highest regard."

You smiled. A genuine compliment from Jeonghan was rare, and that made it all the more precious. You squeezed his hand on your arm. 

"Thank you, brother."

"Now- let us walk away quickly. I see Mrs. Patty approaches and she has that idiotic niece of hers right behind her…"

—----------------------------------------------------

The days trickled past slowly and painfully until Thursday evening finally arrived. Through your own clever manipulations, you had persuaded your mother to attend a card party being held by Mrs. Patty and to allow you to attend Almack's alone chaperoned by Viscountess Hong- one of the few married young women that your mother could be persuaded to entrust you with. 

"I hope, Viscountess, that you will recommend my daughter to some of your acquaintances," your mother pressed. "You have done so well for yourself. I hope you can be a positive influence on her."

Viscountess Hong smiled. She had not been married long; her husband, Viscount Joshua Hong, had been renowned as one of the most eligible bachelors in London not long ago. It did not come as a surprise to anyone when their marriage was announced in the papers, however. The gossip-minded members of the ton had long known that Viscount Hong was smitten with a young lady of humble origins. 

Your mother admired any woman who could achieve the difficult task of marrying above her station. 

"I will be a responsible and careful chaperone, Mrs. Yoon. You may rest assured that I will take excellent care of your daughter for the evening," the Viscountess promised. 

Your mother waved you off and you could not help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as you climbed into the Hongs' carriage. Viscount Hong was waiting outside and greeted you in his usual kind and pleasant manner. 

You thanked him nervously. "I'm very grateful for your invitation. I was worried that my mother would not be persuaded to let me visit Almack’s tonight without a female  chaperone."

Viscountess Hong took your hand warmly. "Of course, we would never allow that! I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol often this past year, and the man never smiles quite as brightly as when someone mentions your name. I'm afraid the man is quite devoted to you, Miss Yoon."

You felt shy, and bit your lip. "I-I do care for him a great deal."

Viscountess Hong beamed.

It was a pleasant carriage ride to Almack's- the Hongs kept you engaged in conversation and their friendly presence helped calm your nerves. As Viscountess Hong told you about the day she first met her husband, your mind drifted back to your own fateful introduction to Mr. Choi Seungcheol four years ago. 

—------------------------------------

The estate was magnificent. 

"Oh! A marble fountain! It is so beautiful!" your younger sister Mina cried out in delight at the sight of the immaculate gardens and the enormous white fountain that towered in the centre, gently spouting water. 

Your mother (despite being notoriously difficult to impress) also looked at the enormous estate and manor appreciatively. "Indeed, this estate is quite lovely. Perhaps we should plant some flowers like those back home. You say this manor belongs to Mr. Choi?" she asked your brother. 

Jeonghan nodded. "Yes- Mr. Choi Seungcheol was a close friend of mine at Oxford. His father passed away two years ago and he inherited the estate. He was more than happy to invite us all to stay at the manor while I take care of some business here in Derbyshire.  The weather is lovely here this time of year."

"Very generous," your mother remarked thoughtfully as a servant unloaded the marriage behind you. "And… is there a Mrs. Choi?"

Jeonghan smiled tightly. "There was. she passed away in childbirth four years ago."

"He is a widower, then. And has a child," your mother remarked, displeased. 

Jeonghan nodded. "Yes."

"Pity," your mother whispered to you, as she took your arm and walked towards the manor out of Jeonghan's earshot. "I was almost beginning to imagine you being mistress of this lovely estate. But you may find a way to have a marble fountain without having to marry a widower."

You blinked at your mother in surprise. It was no secret that she had not been your father's first wife. 

"But you married a widower," you said, surprised. 

Your mother shot you a sharp look. 

"Exactly, my dear."

Before you could question her further on this hypocritical viewpoint, the entrance to the manor burst open. Servants emerged to unload your carriage and carry your things inside. They were followed by a tall, well-dressed man with a handsome smile that you barely managed to glimpse before your view was blocked by your brother stepping into your path. 

“Seungcheol!” 

The two men shook hands warmly, and you could see from Jeonghan’s unusually relaxed manner that he carried a great deal of affection and trust for Mr. Choi. They exchanged greetings for a moment, before Jeonghan finally stepped aside and allowed you to feast your eyes on Mr. Choi properly. 

“Seungcheol- allow me to introduce you to my family. My father’s wife, Mrs. Yoon- and my two sisters, Miss Yoon and Miss Mina.” 

You curtsied without taking your eyes off the startlingly handsome man. Seungcheol bowed politely in return. His manner was calm and suited a respectable and confident man- but there was something in his large eyes that sparkled with liveliness and joy. You had seen handsome men before- Jeonghan often had friends over for dinner and you had spent time in society. 

But no man had ever made you feel quite so giddy. 

“We are very grateful for your hospitality, Mr. Choi,” your mother said performatively. “Your estate is lovely. My daughters and I were just discussing how delightful that marble fountain is.” 

Seungcheol smiled and glanced at the fountain. “Ah- yes, that was my own personal selection. I am rather fond of it myself. And allow me to say, madam, that it is a pleasure to be host to you and your lovely daughters. Your arrival has been long-awaited- not only by myself but by certain other members of my household.” 

It was only then that you finally tore your eyes away from Mr. Choi’s smile and noticed that another person stood behind him. A small, dark-haired boy of no more than four years old with the same bright eyes as Mr. Choi was clinging shyly to his father’s legs. 

“Allow me to introduce my son- Jiwoo.” 

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

A/N: So this is my first time posting for Seventeen! I used to have a moderately successful fanfiction blog for a different kpop group on here a few years ago but I took a break and just wanted to start afresh since Seventeen is the only group I keep up with these days, and I miss writing.

I mostly plan to write some fantasy AUs over the next couple months (got some more regency, royal and other fantasy ideas brewing) so we'll see how it goes.

[fipindustries]

"these are the rules" said the man with the imposing beard and the irises that shone a deep yellow light "i can't give you supernatural powers of your own"

"i see" said the man, holding an old, rusty oil lamp with almost entirely faded inscriptions in Nabataean "makes sense, so I can't ask to be a genie my self"

"right, or any other kind of power, flight, invisibility, teleportation, I can give you skills and talents, as long as they are humanly possible or I can give you supernatural properties that would be under my control and discretion, but wouldn't be yours to keep"

"That is ok, what else?" said the man sitting down on a rock in the cave he had fallen on. The sun was falling down the extensive hole in which he found himself, night was still far away, they had all the time in the world.

"Rule number two, I cannot grant meta-wishes, that is to say any wish that would, in effect, end up granting you more than the original three wishes, so no wishing for more wishes, no wishing for extra lamps or extra genies, not traveling to the past, no wishing to-"

"Wait, traveling to the past?"

"I will not grant wishes to those I already granted a wish for, in the past previous masters have thought to travel to the past to encounter a previous version of me that hadn't granted them wishes yet"

"Oh! I see, so they asked for that and then what?"

"And then they regretted asking," said the bearded man, with a dry tone. He hadn't sat down and so the man holding the lamp noticed that he towered over him. Fair enough, he wasn’t going to push the subject any further.

“Understood, rule three?”

“Rule three, I cannot grant a wish which requires me to fill up details or information on my own”

“Wait, hold on, that is more… academic than the others, what do you mean?”

“I mean that if you wish for something and you are not precise enough then I cannot fulfill the wish and you need to reformulate it”

“But I don't lose the wish, right?”

“No, since no wish was granted you can try again”

“I see… I'm still not entirely sure what you mean”

“Well, let’s think of the classic example” said the tall man stroking his beard, as he crossed his legs in the air, leaving him levitating a meter off the ground “the most common thing people have wished for: ‘i wish to be rich’, what does that mean exactly? Do you want me to deposit a great amount of some random currency into some random bank account in your name? Do you want to have a large pile of gold in your house? Do you want to own the deed to some oil fields? Or awake in the body of some specific rich man? Do you want to be Jeff Bezos?”

“No, thanks”

“Right, so you need to specify, I can’t come up with details on my own, I used to do that and it tended to leave masters… unsatisfied, to say the least”

“So you used to give monkey paw wishes?”

“Please do not compare me to that bauble, I used to grant wishes wherein the ambiguity in terms opened the opportunity for ironic and tragic outcomes”

“I apologize… and uh…” again, he didn’t want to push it further given that he had offended such a powerful being, but he needed to know what he was working with “did you do it… intentionally?”

“Yes! I did!” said the floating man cheerfully.

“Right… and uh, why did you stop?”

“Because someone wished for that to be case, my last master in fact, that was his third wish before dying”

“I thought you said I couldn't ask for meta wishes”

“...as long as they end up granting you more wishes, this did not meet that criteria so I was able to fulfill it”

“Ok, I'm sorry, you said dying? Your last master made his final wish and then he died?”

“Yes, the cannibal cult was eating his liver as he made that last wish”

The man holding the lamp stood up.

“Cannibal cult?”

“A result of his poorly worded second wish”

The poor human started walking around the sand covered hole, deep in thought.

“But now you don't do that anymore? Now you don't twist wishes into bad outcomes?”

“No, unless the specifics of the wish demand it or allow it”

“Why do that? Why twist wishes like that? Do you hate people?”

“In the past I used to hold a great deal of animosity towards the mortal race, yes, one grows resentful after spending thousands of years trapped in a lamp, but as of lately I have been able to come out much more frequently, and my recent masters have been very reasonable people, those who enslaved me have been erased from history millennia ago”

“Then why?”

“Because the nature of the universe requires balance, my power twists and turns and disfigures casualty and the laws of reality such that a deep wrong has been tallied, cosmically speaking, so that has to be counterbalanced”

“But now you’re saying that it doesn't? As long as my wish is air tight enough?”

“There is righteousness and wisdom in knowing precisely what you want and how to ask for it… but also I have not granted a wish under these restrictions yet so I'm not actually sure what will happen once I do” the bearded man shrugged and stopped levitating, putting his feet on the sand once again “now you know the rules”

“Ok, can I ask further clarifying questions?”

“Sure, I don't mind the conversation” he looked up at the sun, bathing them from the entrance to the cave five meters above them, the shine of his eyes did not seem to be occluded or diminished by the sunbeams.

“If I were to ask for a bar of gold, just a simple bar of gold”

“I would need to know how big, what shape you want it to have, where specifically you want the bar to show up and what is its procedence, if  you want I could take one bar of gold from some bank specified by you and make it appear here”

The man holding the lamp thought about it for a second. 

“If I made a wish for a cube of gold, weighing ten kilos and of the appropriate volume given gold’s density, to replace the corresponding volume of air that is a meter away from my nose in that specific direction and a meter off the ground, the gold cube previously nonexistent appearing ex nihilo, would that be specific enough?”

“Yes, it would, is that what you are wishing for?”

“No, but that is good to know”

The man sat down again.

“I guess the trick now is to think of a wish that can extract the biggest amount of juice I can in terms that I can specify”

The bearded man leaned against a wall, crossing his arms.

“Ok so there is a problem with wishing for a ton of gold, I’m sure eventually someone, either the IRS of the FBI or someone will come wondering where I got all of it, and I can’t just say that a genie gave it to me”

“You wouldn't be able to, you will forget I existed after your third wish is granted”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes of course, another anti abuse measure, so that you can't just pass on my lamp to a friend to continue asking for wishes”

“Huh…”

“Didn’t you wonder why this was the first time you heard of the existence of genies in the real world? I go around granting lots of wishes boy, yet you never heard of me”

“I was wondering about that actually, I'm also wondering, since you are real, what other magical entities are real”

“Very few, they don't exist anymore, they were wished away in their time”

“What! That is… huh… that’s tragic I guess”

“It was one of the earliest workarounds to the karmic comeuppance of twisting reality through wishes, clever masters realized they could offset the amount of wrongness in the rules of the world that their wishes caused by erasing other sources of supernatural alteration instead”

“Uh, how many of your rules are a product of previous wishes?”

“All of them” said the bearded man with a full on toothy grin “I used to be far more free in the past, the world used to be far more chaotic and mercurial, there is a reason I am in that lamp, there is a reason I can only grant three wishes and there is a reason why I can’t grant meta wishes, each of those rules is written in things deeper and vaster than blood, the earth didn't use to be the only populated planet in the universe, dark matter didn't use to be dark”

A full shiver ran through the body of the man holding the lamp, he was sweating even though he was under the shade of the walls of the cave.

He tried to say something but his throat was swollen and dry.

He swallowed multiple times, he could almost feel a burning sensation in his hands where they were touching the rusty lamp.

“Well… um, that is… terrifying”

The bearded man shrugged again.

“Just so you know, not all my masters have met terrible fates, some simply wished for someone to fall in love with them and this interference in reality was minor enough that at worst they got an unexpected pregnancy, others merely wished for a happy life and were granted one that was marginally happier than the one they already had which again was so little a cost for the universe that the price was barely noticeable, sometimes trying to be too clever is the thing that dooms you”

“Right, ok, that is actually helpful to know” said the human a bit more relaxed. “Ok, thinking it through, whichever way you slice it wishing for money seems the safest bet in the sense that I can turn money in any other material good I could wish for, I just have to think of a simple way to get lots of… oh, I got it, what if I asked for a piece of A4 white paper to appear a meter in front of my face with the results for the next lottery winning numbers written on them?”

“Which lottery?”

“The biggest one that runs on the country where I reside, I want the numbers that will be picked at the earliest lottery yet to happen, which is in like a week or so”

The bearded man thought about it for a second.

“Yes, that is a valid wish”

“Good! Well! That is progress! Let me think a little more, just to make sure I'm not missing anything…”

“Take your time”

“Mhmmm, I guess I can have one selfish wish for me, to improve my material conditions, another selfish wish for me, something intangible or abstract that I couldn't have, no matter how much money I posses and… well, I guess it would be nice to dedicate one wish to help the world”

“How magnanimous”

“Uh, ok, here is another question” the human started to blush a little “could I wish to become a woman?”

“Which woman?”

“Right, right, I don't want to be Anne Hathaway or whatever, or I don't want to have a body that looks exactly like the one Anne Hathaway has”

“If you were to ask for her body then you would just become her, with her thoughts, her emotions and her memories”

“And let me guess, if I were to ask for my brain in her body I would die instantly because the size of my head is different from hers or something”

“More or less”

“And the same would go for any body that is significantly different from mine… could I wish to have the body I would have if it was subject to the changes that years of the best HRT and surgeries in the world could provide such that it was as close to cis passing as it was humanly possible?”

“There is a lot of latitude in ‘the best in the world’ I would require specific treatments with specific doses and specific surgeries provided by specific surgeons, also you didn't really specify the gender you mean to pass as”

“Fuck me dude-that wasn't a wish!” 

“I know, you didn't specify how would you want me to fuck you” said the man with the shining eyes, chuckling.

“Have people asked for that?”

“Yes, of course”

“And… uh, don't answer if this is too intrusive but did you…?”

“Yes”

No need to ask further questions.

“Anyway, going back to the sex change… mhmm, could I wish to have the body I would have had in a world where I was born with total androgen insensitivity syndrome, except for the brain and all the relevant connections to my spine?”

“Would that include all the scars that such a world would have left in that body?”

“Scars? What do you mean…? You know what, I do not want to know, let’s change tactics… I wish to have a body with C cup breasts, a 60 inch waist, a skin as soft as the skin of-” the man cut off himself when he saw the bearded man shaking his head.

“You are stacking wishes, either ask one change per wish or find the way to encapsulate all those specific changes under one concise wish”

The human kicked sand in frustration, away from the bearded man, just in case. In doing so he stubbed his toe on a rock and had to jump on one foot for a minute, cursing profusely.

“What if I just asked for a body that I was happy with?” he said eventually, with tears in his eyes.

“I cannot decide that for you, again, you must fill in the blanks, I cannot add or invent any information regarding your wish on my own”

“I know, I know, sigh, and if I were to ask for you to simply get rid of the cause for gender dysphoria in my brain?”

“There are multiple causes, genetics, certain brain structures, society, the shape of your body, which one do you mean?”

“Forget it, once I'm rich I'll deal with that on my own… I guess I'll use my second wish to become even richer. It is good and all if I get millions with the lottery, but if I knew what to do with it then I could increase the potential of those millions exponentially, so if I wished to have the same talent for investing as, say,  Warren Buffet… no, if I wish to have the same knowledge as those that Warren Buffett holds in his brain in regards to finance without any of his personal memories subconsciously stored in my brain… such that I could access them and use them instinctively… is that a valid wish…?”

The man with the shining eyes thought once more.

“Yes, it is acceptable”

“Is there anyway that wish could fuck me over?”

“That is for you to decide”

“You know what, fuck it”

He was really frustrated by now. He knew that he was being lazy, he knew that he should be sitting down with the internet, do a lot of research and sit for a good week crafting the cleverest, most high yielding wish possible but he just couldn't be bothered, he wanted to get rid of the genie as sooner than later, he was giving him the heebie jeevies, and he wanted to start enjoying his wishes.

“Ok, now I have to think of the final wish… something good for the rest of the world…”

“Oh,  can’t wait to hear this, those are always the best wishes” said the man, who was now floating again, as he rubbed his hands together.

That was incredibly creepy but the man holding the lamp chose to ignore it.

“If I were to wish to return the levels of carbon in the atmosphere back to what they were in the 1700's…”

“Ah yes, I got this one multiple times, it would go back to current levels in ten years”

“Wait, really? Jesus fucking christ, ok, ummm if I were to say the words ‘AI alignment’...”

“I would ask what does that mean”

“Right, I cannot ask for an aligned AI if I have no idea what that looks like and you can't create one if one does not exist, much like I cannot ask for a cure for cancer if I don't know the composition of… oh! Could I ask for all malignant cancerous cells in the world to disappear?”

“Sure, but cancer would eventually return”

“Yeah yeah, but still, that would make so many people all across the world happy in such a way that the sheer amount of utils might just be worth it…mhmmm, could do the same with malaria, the coronavirus, dengue fever, I could probably just say ‘all viruses’ but, mhmm, god knows what would that mean for the animal population, or the bacterial population or whatever other strange cascading effects in the ecosystem or the global immunological system or whatever…” his brain was getting tired, he could tell.

“Ok, how about increasing the IQ of every single human by…” he didn't want to say a number so big that society suffered a shock out of the sheer revolutionary change it would mean “...20 points”

“Ah! I like the way you think, that was essentially very similar to the very first wish I was ever asked by my creators back in Shambhala, took you a while to get there”

“Um.. what happened when you granted that wish?”

“Do you see any Shambhalas anywhere?”

“No, hold on, I want specifics, I need to know precisely how that wish failed”

“Remember boy that this conversation is a courtesy, I am under no rule or obligation to tell you about previous wishes, and frankly I'm starting to get tired, ask for your wishes already”

The man grabbed on to the lamp tighter but said nothing.

“So first wish, the lottery numbers, yadda yadda”

A white piece of paper with some numbers written on them appeared in front of him, it started to fall slowly towards the sand but the man grabbed it. He stared at the numbers and then he took a pencil from his pocket. He was aware he was going to forget the bearded man once the wishes were done. He wrote ‘these are the lottery numbers’ on the paper and he pocketed it.

“Second wish, investment knowledge equal to that of Warren Buffet, as I explained previously”

Nothing changed, not even in his mind, since he specified for the knowledge to be subconscious and instinctual. He thought for a second where he should invest his lottery winnings first. A list of twenty different companies jumped to the tip of his tongue. All good on that front.

“And your final wish?”

The man holding the lamp thought an extra second about his morals, about practicality, about the amount of utils that simple things could accumulate in the long run.

His foot was still hurting.

“I wish…” fuck it, the genie had said not to over complicate it “for every human that exists or will ever exist to miss stubbing their toe by a milimiter for the rest of their life”

“You got it boy”

The bearded man went back to the lamp-

A man was standing at the bottom of a hole in the desert. He shook his head slightly disoriented for a second. He looked around, there was nothing interesting in that cave. He walked towards the nearest wall and he started to climb out of the hole.