#when they mean an ingredient that happens to exist in one

[sweaterkittensahoy]

They've been scare-mongering aspartame since I was in junior high and that was 30 years ago.

And I don't mean "The WHO and the FDA" when I say "they."

I mean fuckos who want you to think that "chemicals" cause cancer.

When I was a wee bitch, the study was fucking flawed because they fed lab mice a diet of 60% aspartame, and lemme tell you, 60% of your diet being ANY sweetener is probably gonna kill you.

The fact that it's taken 30 years from "aspartame can murder you" to "it may be, in certain circumstances, that aspartame could have a possible role in murdering you" tells me two things: 1) It definitely should be researched more so we can further understand it, and 2) your great-aunt didn't die of fucking Diet Coke. She died of cancer.

[delusionalisted]

“Low Spoon” witchcraft doesn’t exist.

This is a post for all my disabled siblings. (But it applies to broke or low-income siblings as well.)

By the way, you heard me. What does exist is capitalism, consumerism and scarcity, all things that don’t belong to witchcraft. Witches in the past were mostly poor, unprivileged and unhealthy individuals with just one skill: knowledge. Yes, for today’s americentric standards they’d have been called “low-spoons practitioners”.

No fancy candles? No cauldron? Just one heavily used tarot deck?

Yes, no fancy candles Susan, you can keep those paraffin toxins to yourself.

Cauldron, Deborah? I have no money to waste for your pinterest aesthetics. We cook in this house, I can simply use a kitchen pot.

Mais oui Elizabeth, just one old tarot deck. It’s used my dear Elizabeth, you know… that’s something that happens when you actually use… tarot instead of purchasing 15 decks, then ending up using just one or two of them and leaving the other 13 to collect dust and resentment towards you.

*Sigh*

This is all to say, witchcraft doesn’t need a 9-steps process to be achieved. Calling it “low-spoons” practice just means “high spoons” practice is the norm. It is not. Most importantly, it never was. You don’t need 30 specific crystals to perform a spell, you don’t even need one most of the times.

— Addition: If you fit into the “Low Spoons” type of witch and you noticed that your spells or rituals don’t work, then let me share one of the possible reasons why they fail: you followed a “low spoons” recipe or spell preparation, consciously or unconsciously gave the title “too much power” (your subconscious registered your spell as something lesser than a proper ceremony) and any energy that you and the ingredients released just plopped like a pudding on the floor.

Branding something as “lesser” in spirituality can lead to two results: failure or high delays. Yes, the herbs you use still have, nourish and release power, but without YOUR faith, their power alone can do so much; in most cases, your subconscious skepticism rejects your desired manifestation leading to a delayed or completely failed magickal attempt.

[sunderwight]

SVSSS "no Abyss" fluff AU where Shen Qingqiu just keeps accidentally proposing to a full grown disciple Luo Binghe in ways that don't register to him, but do register to Binghe, but Binghe also knows that his Shizun is clueless and doesn't actually mean it, so he's trapped in a hell of constantly getting what he desires most and fighting the urge to take advantage of the situation in order to actually claim it.

For instance, it turns out that PIDW has a knock-off version of Valentine's Day thanks to one really ill-planned VIP chapter. Shen Qingqiu found that one so egregious even he mostly scrubbed it from his mental records, but the long and short of it is that in the PIDW chocolate exists, but it's a symbolic treat that is only meant to be given to someone you intend to marry.

Of course, Shen Qingqiu discovers chocolate in PIDW and IMMEDIATELY hands it over to Luo Binghe, because he wants to see how Binghe's magnificent cooking skills can utilize this ingredient. Also he wants bon bons and this seems like the only way he's gonna get any in this lifetime.

Naturally, Binghe does make delicious bon bons, all the while fighting down the urge to be like "you proposed so we're getting married now, no take backs!"

Shizun eats the chocolates and Binghe counts slowly backwards from ten and reminds himself that getting what he wants by way of trickery would ultimately deny him what he wants most, which is for Shen Qingqiu to choose him of his own volition.

And of course, this shit just keeps happening. Somehow Shen Qingqiu keeps "forgetting" (read: subconsciously repressing) the little details about various proposal customs in PIDW (of which there are A LOT thanks to all the wife acquisitions) and proposing to Binghe almost constantly. This part of the world has a special ritual proposal wine? Better give some to Binghe! This demonic cult requires one to present a specific monster kill to their intended? Shen Qingqiu just so happened to kill one such monster himself and now he's given it over to Binghe to claim the parts (Binghe's cultivation would make better use of them!) They're visiting a neighboring sect where couples traditionally tie their wrists together with a particular type of rope as a symbol of engagement? Somehow, someway, Shen Qingqiu is going to find a good reason to tie himself to Binghe with the betrothal rope.

Not only is this dance giving Luo Binghe intense mixed feelings, and causing him to lie awake at night trying to figure out if Shen Qingqiu somehow does actually know what he's doing, and wants Binghe to bamboozle him into a marriage (or is that just wishful thinking??), it also causes him ever-more stress whenever SQQ goes on a mission with anyone else.

Especially Liu Qingge.

What if he does the clueless not-proposing to Liu Qingge? What if Liu Qingge proves to be less strong-willed than Luo Binghe (absolutely possible) and "accepts"? What if he's stupid enough to not figure out that Shen Qingqiu is a clueless idiot, and thinks it's genuine?

Shizun might marry him just to avoid having an awkward conversation!

Anyway things come to a head when finally, for once, Luo Binghe is the one who does the accidental proposal. And this time Shen Qingqiu does notice, and he gets all flustered and scolds Binghe to "be more careful" and "not waste such gestures on this old master, or anyone Binghe doesn't want taking advantage!" and Luo Binghe, who has aged one thousand decades in the past few years, still nobly resists the urge to lay out all the times Shizun has made this exact same "mistake" towards him and instead just confesses. Shoots his shot. Now or never!

He almost immediately regrets it because he had a whole plan for how to slowly ease Shizun into the idea over the course of several years, and he's prepared to be rejected now that he's fucked that up. Because he knows his master is delicate about stuff like this. Why else would he be so atypically obtuse?

But, well. Shen Qingqiu always said that the most realistic thing about the harem was that no one in their right mind would turn down a marriage proposal from Luo Binghe.

So he just, uh, says yes?

Binghe's like, you mean this whole time all I had to do was be the one to ask?!

But also he's really too happy to give a shit about the particulars either. They will have a beautiful wedding! No take backs. If SQQ gets cold feet then Luo Binghe has a list and compiled evidence of fifty million marriage proposals from him, so now he definitely has to follow through!

[wttcsms]

when you know, you know, atsumu miya ;

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 1k synopsis atsumu considers marriage to be a trap, until he realizes that even a lifetime commitment to you isn't long enough content contains fluff, talks of marriage!!!! he's a softie

It starts off like this: nobody sees Atsumu Miya getting married — not now, not ever, not in the foreseeable future, nor in any of the millions of alternate and parallel universes that may or may not exist.

You’re just not the type of person we see settling down. 

Yeah, that might be true, but it still stings a little. It stings when he sees the white picket fences, and the cars with the MY KID’S AN HONOR STUDENT bumper stickers. It stings when he happens to accidentally catch a rerun of those family-centered sitcoms; the ones where they argue during the day and make up at night, with some cliche moral to the over dramatic situations that have occurred onscreen fifteen minutes ago. It stings when he watches his teammates get engaged and he has to congratulate them — he’s genuinely happy for them, don’t get him wrong — but still… 

It doesn’t matter. Atsumu Miya has long since held the firm belief that he’s just not the type of person the whole “fall in love, get married, have a family, cue the domesticity cuteness overload” schtick is meant for. Besides, it’s not like it’s something he’s spent years obsessing over (maybe months, at most). 

He rationalizes his bachelor status (that’s been a part of him for so long that it’s getting to become somewhat of a red flag for potential girlfriends) as him being the only one left with his priorities straight. After all, he doesn't have to worry about things like parent-teacher conferences or crayon drawings on the wall or trying to buy flowers to make sure the wife isn’t too mad when he comes home late. 

After all, he tells everyone, settling down is still settling. 

And Atsumu Miya, under no circumstances, ever settles.

Which is an ideal he clings to with such a tight grip, if it were flesh and blood, it would be suffocating. He doesn’t, he decides after a while, believe in marriage. 

(That is to say: he doesn’t believe that it’s possible for him. 

It’s not what he says explicitly, but it’s what he truly means.) 

So, when he tells you this on your second date, you’re a little stunned, but you’re quick to recover. Okay… So that’s the explanation you’ve been waiting for. The reason why this six feet two inches tall professional athlete with a bank account he generously withdraws money from has been single for so long is because he doesn’t believe in marriage. 

Other than that, he’s been nothing but great. Near perfect. So, all you do is nod and continue on with the original topic of the conversation. Eventually, your budding romance blooms into something much bigger than either of you ever anticipated or saw coming, and while you yourself have never mentioned the M-word after that date, it’s all Atsumu can think about right now. 

Marriage.

The concept of it looms over your relationship; a perpetual gray cloud that threatens to flood this perfect little relationship and have it all go down the drain. You never brought it up after he basically told you he would never marry anyone, and he never brought it up purely because — well — he’s a bit of a coward. 

He’s the type of person who’s set on his own convictions, by the way. If his balls ever drop, and he decides to Man Up, he figures he’ll start the conversation just like that. His stubbornness is nothing new to you, but him figuring out that he might be wrong makes his stomach feel funny. It’s sick and twisted. 

“Hey, what do you want for dinner tonight? I’m at the store right now, and I’m in the mood to cook.” He can picture it clearly: you, standing in one of the grocery store aisles, phone balanced in between your ear and shoulder as you compare the ingredients of the name brand and generic cereal. 

He’s in the locker room, about to pack up his gym bag (that you’ll complain reeks) and head back to his apartment (that’s starting to feel a lot more like yours, with the way your skincare products dominate the bathroom counter), and it hits him so suddenly, he has to sit back down on the bench. 

Atsumu Miya thinks that marriage isn’t for him, and as a defense mechanism, he decides that marriage sucks anyway. But through the tinny speakers of his phone, he can hear you toss something in the shopping cart. He hears the faint crying of a toddler in the background, and then he starts to think about what it would be like to walk around the store with a baby that takes after you. Right now, you’re already sleeping in the same bed with him at least four times out of the week, but it would be perfect, he thinks, to get the privilege to wake up to you every morning.

“Atsumu?” You try to get his attention, and Atsumu tries to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling he gets when he considers a future with you. Settling down is still settling, he tells himself, and then he thinks of the way you looked when you caught the bouquet at a friend’s wedding. The pleased smile on your face, the triumphant way you held the flowers over your head, head thrown back in glee; you looked absolutely radiant. You caught his eye, and you quickly lowered your hands, giving him a sheepish grin. 

He realizes now that if anyone is settling, it’s you. You don’t know that he notices the way you tear up at weddings, or how excited you sound when you get back from dress shopping with one of your friends. You want to get married, and the only thing stopping you is him.

He’s spent ages deluding himself into thinking that he’s somehow losing if he decides to trap himself into a marriage with someone, but no one can accuse him of settling when it’s you he’s marrying. You’re the prize. You’re the only person in the world he wants to give his last name and an obnoxiously big ring to. 

“Make whatever you want, baby. I’ll eat anything.” He’s checking the locations for the nearest jewelers in his immediate vicinity. “I might be a little late, though. I have to check on something.” 

[sugar-grigri]

Nayuta wasn't killed by Barem, she's his ally 

Poor fandom, you're disorientated just when your compasses should be working properly. 

Let's learn how to eat sushi properly, step by step. Or rather, how about reading Chainsaw Man in the right order? By calmly superimposing everything we know in the right order 

So let's not panic, let's get on with it. Dry your tears, clean your snot and let's get back to the introductions. 

First layer of sushi: Denji and Pochita are made for each other 

Who is Chainsaw Man? It's a question we've been asking ourselves a lot, but how about a simple answer - we're not here to mess around. Chainsaw Man is the combined result of Pochita + Denji. Do we agree? Why have they become so close? Because they look alike, don't they? Alone, hungry, in need of a little warmth and a little love. 

Second layer of sushi: birthday, despair, amnesia...

If we take the stories in outline, Denji meets Makima and then bonds with his siblings. A sibling who eventually dies, and whose final breaking point is his sister, cut in two. On top of that, it's his birthday, isn't it? Makima invites Denji to open the door that confined his traumas, including the death of Denji’s father? 

You see, I've already missed it, I went too fast. Let's resume calmly, birthday... Denji had forgotten it was his birthday, hadn't he? His birthday is the day you're born, it's one of the few pieces of information we don't really question, but Denji forgot it. But haven't you ever really wondered...

If Denji had celebrated his birthday? And why, how, he wanted to eat a cake? His father was violent and his mother died when he was very young, so is it really safe to say that Denji celebrated his birthday? 

I had another question, why does Fujimoto always seem to accentuate the cakes so much?

I really think that cake is one of the keys, because it's a tunnel of memories that resurfaces in Denji, the cake, his birthday, then Power's death, then his father's death. It's a sushi within a sushi (we're slowly taking things back in order), I think it's about layers that need to be taken back in chronological order, yes chronological 1) the death of Denji's father 2) the death of Power 3) Denji's birthday 4) the cake. Which brings us to this scene.

Was this scene shown not just metaphorical or symbolic, but actually happened? Denji having contracted with the control demon whose power is to control memory, in order to reshape him perfectly so as not to be happy and to do whatever she asks of him later. Why couldn't Denji open that door? Why does Aki's death sound so abruptly like Denji's absence, with a mini ellipsis that doesn't show us in concrete terms how Chainsaw Man killed him? I'm going too fast again, let's start again...

Makima hasn't made Denji unhappy, she's created a being made for unhappiness.

This scene refers to an anniversary, amnesia and despair, all ingredients that enabled Pochita to take complete possession of Denji and show us the most complete version of Chainsaw Man.

Which means Barem isn't lying, is he? Same here, I'm going too fast!

Third layer of sushi: the closer Denji gets to happiness, the more he doubts...

Denji manages to become himself again and succeeds in killing Makima, by devouring her. In a very simple and concrete way, Makima was devoured and this put an end to her existence. Keep this in mind. Nayuta is reborn, becoming Denji's little sister, lots of dogs surround them, Chainsaw Man becomes extremely popular and it's in this part 2 that Denji will feel the least like himself, the least like Chainsaw Man. Strangely enough, it's when he approaches a semblance of happiness that Denji pulls away from himself.

Barem really doesn't seem to be lying, does he? But once again, I'm going too fast, let's get on with it!

Fourth layer of sushi: Barem never lies 

This is something I quickly came up with, and it's so precise, I think his character is thought of that way, and it's his narrative role. Even though he's deceitful, manipulative and devious, the bro does NOT LIE. He didn't lie about the weapons attack, he didn't lie that he looked like a Chainsaw Man fan, and he doesn't lie in the last chapter. But same, I'm going too fast. 

Fifth layer of sushi: Nayuta betrayed by Chainsaw Man 

When Denji made the choice to become Chainsaw Man, the house, his source of happiness, was falling to ashes, his dogs, his cat were dying. Denji went through with his dream and abandoned the little sister who made him happy. Barem didn't impose misfortune on Denji; it was Denji who chose misfortune, despite Nayuta's fears. The happier he was with her, the more he lost himself. He left her in Barem's hands and provoked an existential crisis in her. Which made her reconnect with her old self. 

Sixth layer of sushi: an unblocked memory. 

The aftertaste that sticks to your palate is a piece of information I mentioned earlier. Makima has been devoured. What defines the Knights of the Apocalypse from the rest of the demons? Their memory. What if Nayuta had now understood how Chainsaw Man's power worked? 

Seventh layer of sushi: chapter 170. 

This explains Nayuta's severed head, a macabre mise-en-scène to make her brother lose his mind a little more. As for Barem, he doesn't lie to us and gives us instructions on how to read Chainsaw Man. He knows how to read Chainsaw Man, since he knows the two conditions for him to regain his full power because Nayuta gave them to him. For all this is nothing more than their death. 

Layer zero of sushi: the unknown. 

Now I'm entering the quintessential madness of my analysis. Makima contracted with Denji at a very young age, and gave him several orders: survive at all costs, remain miserable, and one day kill Power and Aki. Above all, she ordered him to contract with Pochita, hence Denji's reflex to hand his open wound directly to the demon. This misfortune, this amnesia due to the contract with Makima, this survival on his own, finally allowed a weakened Chainsaw Man to find a kindred spirit, a loved one. Believing in happiness, then destroying it, kept Chainsaw Man's power in check, those vain dreams only a human could imagine. Denji was a kind of Russian doll, holding back Pochita and his over-power. That's why these two conditions exist. 

To be unhappy, or to break this Russian doll. 

To be feared by all, or to be alone. 

Or kill Denji. 

To save Pochita. 

Layer - 100000 of sushi: did you think I'd finished losing my head? I don't think so. What if everything I've been telling you all along, taking things in order, were to be done in reverse? Take them out of order. I'll ask the questions so you can understand. Why is Makima so obsessed with Chainsaw Man? Why did the Knights of the Apocalypse fight Chainsaw Man in the underworld? How did they manage to retain their memories? Why start the story with a parricide? Why was Denji finely polished by Makima to welcome Pochita when Makima never saw Denji, the reason for her own death? How could she enter into a contract with someone she has never seen? 

Because someone is controlling the control demon itself. Just as it controls the way the story is presented to us. How can we trust an antagonist who controls memory? And an amnesiac protagonist? 

Why did Pochita do what he did in the underworld? Why this sudden fury? Why do demons hear chainsaws at the moment of their death? 

Because we've come full circle. More precisely, what you're reading is not part 2 but part 1, or to be more (MORE) precise, the end of Chainsaw Man will lead to its beginning. The desire to create a better world, to kill death, will lead to a temporal loop in the world that will never cross the apocalypse, blocked just ahead. 

Makima herself is controlled by her future self, which allows her to make references to the future and know the recipes for unleashing Chainsaw Man's power without understanding why, her future self knows Chainsaw Man, she loved him. So Makima also loves Chainsaw Man without really understanding why, amnesiac like Denji.

Denji doesn't kill his father, it's his old self who is killed. 

But another Denji tries to put an end to this... 

Spiral. 

Stuck between two worlds, two temporalities, morning (Asa), night (Yoru), someone is trying to put an end to this endless world, before dawn.

[celestelunia]

I’ve been loving your fics so far! And I was wondering if you could write Jamil being poisoned/hit with a love potion and being all over gn!reader and they’re just kinda like really flustered (turns out the live potion only works on who ever the person already loves) so gn!reader confesses to Jamil once he’s back to normal! Ty!

Aw! Thank you so much! I'm glad you've been enjoying them! I've been having fun writing them lol

Sorry this took a while. Been slowly making my way through the list, but this is my first Jamil ask! I hope it came out okay and that you like it!

Warnings: None. Reader is GN.

"This....is just so weird...." You said as you sat on a cushion in the common area of Scarabia. A pair of arms were wrapped around your waist from behind as Jamil chin rested against your shoulder as he cuddled against your neck gently, causing you to blush.

"Ahahaha! I think it's cute! I've never seen him like this before." Kalim laughed with a grin as he placed his hands on the back of his head.

You didn't get all the details, but one moment you had walked into Scarabia to see your crush, and the next, he was suddenly all over you, showering you with affection.

Needless to say, you almost fainted on the spot at the sudden onslaught of attention from your long-time crush. According to Kalim, he had mentioned something had gone wrong in potions, and Jamil was hit in the face with a puff of dust and magic due to the mini explosion that was triggered by the event. Professor Crewel had mentioned that it would wear off in a couple of hours and to just look after him till it does.

Jamil had acted like nothing was wrong at first, and he seemed like his usual self, so Kalim figured whatever the professor might have been worried about was just a mistake.

That was until you walked into the dorm, and Jamil's personality did a 180! He turned into some kind of love sick puppy who couldn't keep his hands off of you.

"T-This isn't like him at all! I'm sure he is just being this way to me since I was the first one he saw when I came over! This isn't fai-ahhh!" You yelped when you felt Jamil warm lips against the side of your neck as he gave it a small kiss. Turning bright red, you had tried to free yourself, only to have your crush tighten his hold against you. This was torture!!

"Hmmm." Kalim hummed softly in thought as he paid no mind to your struggles. "I don't think that's right. He was with me the whole time and even saw a couple of students on our way back to the dorm, and nothing happened." He explained before pulling out his phone to check something. "We were trying to make a certain potion in class, but because I added the wrong ingredients, it completely changed the contents of the potion."

"So this is your fault?!" You yelled as you pointed at the housewarden who just laughed.

"Yep! I'm sorry!" Kalim grinned as he looked back at his phone.

With a pout, you huffed before looking back at Jamil, who was still happily cuddling against your shoulder. "This...isn't real, though. He wouldn't be like this with me if it wasn't for that potion..."

At hearing your words, Kalim looked up from his phone. He knew about your crush on his best friend, and you two often talked a lot when you were feeling down and frustrated about the situation. If he was being honest, Kalim thought you were perfect for Jamil. He needed someone like you in his life to balance him out. The housewarden paused for a moment as he debated on bringing this up. He really wanted you two to figure things out on your own, but maybe a little push wouldn't hurt, right?

"That's not entirely true." Kalim said as he watched you turn to look at him. "He only started acting this way the moment you showed up. The spell on this potion just amplifies feelings that already existed inside someone." He said with a warm smile.

At his words, your eyes widen. Was that true? If it was, that would mean...

At that moment, your whole face turned red as a puff of smoke appeared above your head as you were suddenly overloaded with this information.

Kalim grinned as he stood up from his spot in front of you. "He should be back to normal in an hour or so. Keep watching over him for me! Thanks, Y/N!" He said before heading off to give you two some alone time..

"Nooo! Don't you dare leave!" You had yelled, but it was too late as Kalim had disappeared somehow. How was he that quick!?

Over the next hour, you had managed to drag Jamil to his room, but he didn't make it easy. Having him being this clingy was killing your heart. As time went on, you noticed how Jamil was starting to get a bit woozy as you managed to get him on his bed in time before he seemed to fall asleep. Good. Maybe this was a sign the potion was exiting his system.

With a sigh, you pulled up a chair to the side of his bed as you waited for Jamil to wake up. At least now you had a moment to gather your thoughts.

If Kalim was correct, then that meant that Jamil felt the same towards you as you did him. Just the thought alone made your heart race! While Jamil did give you some special treatment from time to time, it wasn't really enough for you to figure out his feelings. He was a man who kept his cards close to his chest, after all.

Maybe you could be brave and finally open up to him about your feelings...?

After a moment, Jamil let out a groan as he slowly opened his eyes. Noticing the ceiling of his bedroom, he sighed before placing his hand against his forehead. He had a bit of a headache. What the hell happened? The last thing he could recall was doing potions with Kalim...

"You're awake. How are you feeling?"

At the familiar voice, Jamil's head snapped to the side to see you sitting next to his bed. Why were you here!?

"Y/N?" Jamil called out as he sat up in his bed. "What are you doing here?"

"I was asked to look after you. Do you remember anything?" You asked as you watched Jamil carefully.

At those words, Jamil frowned slightly, not liking how you asked. Why did he feel like something happened that he was missing? He didn't do something embarrassing in front of you, did he!?

Hearing his phone ding the vice housewarden reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Noticing it was a text from Kalim, he opened it to see a photo attached that made him almost drop his phone...

It was a picture of him with his arms wrapped around Y/N as he was basically cuddling with them from behind. 

What happened!? Was this real!? Feeling his face heat up, Jamil put his phone down before placing one of his hands over his face in embarrassment.

You, on the other hand, just watched as Jamil checked his phone before turning bright red. As you went to speak, you felt your phone vibrate, and as you pulled it out, you saw a message from Kalim.

"Jamil should be back to normal by now. I believe in you! You got this!" Was the text he had sent. In that moment, you got the feeling Jamil had received something from the housewarden as well.

"Jamil." You had called out as you got your courage together. When you saw him about to speak, you held up your hand to stop him. You were worried if he said anything that you might lose your nerve. "I like you." You had managed to get out.

At your words, Jamil froze up for a second before he suddenly turned his head towards you. His eyes full of surprise.

"I like you, Jamil." You repeated. "I know you have a lot on your shoulders, but it doesn't change that you're an amazing person. You're smart, a great dancer, and an amazing cook! I really love everything about you."

Feeling his cheeks warm up more, Jamil leaned his head back to look up at his ceiling. To think you would be the one to confess first. He really needed to step up his game...

"H-how about you stay over tonight for dinner? I'll make something special. Just for the two of us." He said before he looked back over at you with a grin. "Think of it as my way for saying sorry that you had to confess first."

At the offer, you blinked before you felt like your heart was going to explode. "Y-you really feel the same?" You whispered in surprise.

Jamil turned as he threw his legs over the side of his bed. "For a long time, but I kept finding excuses to not face this feelings. I shouldn't have put you through all of that. That potion mishaps just opened my eyes a bit more." He said as he made a mental note to give Kalim a lecture about being more careful in the future. He normally wasn't this open and honest, but he owed you that much after what he did to you. Maybe it was okay to be selfish for once.

"Come on." Jamil said as he gently poked your forehead before holding out his hand to you. "Let me treat you like royalty today."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh as you stood up and took Jamil's hand. "Just be your normal self." You said happily as it felt like a weight had been lifted off of you.

To think a small mishap like this would work in your favor? You would have to make sure to thank Kalim later.

[cookiekissers]

can we please get a buring spice x fragile reader, like they want to help and fight/hunt but physical can't because they are that fragile, simply bumbing into another cookie could cause them to crack!

Do Not Go Gently

[Burning Spice Cookie x Fragile Reader]

I was inspired and tried something a little different with this so I hope you like it! and Burning Spice redemption anyone? B)

The life of a Wild Spice was fraught with constant struggle and danger. If you were weak, you would be ground into dust, either by one of the other tribes or by the Great Destroyer himself. And you happened to be one of the weaker spices.

Delicate and fragile by nature, your main ingredient was parsley. The harsh desert winds of your homeland often left your leaves and dough brittle. The stronger Wild Spices almost always belittled you and your small tribe as you barely etched out an existence. You weren't tough and built with natural armour, like the Pepper Pangolins, or strong like the Saffron Buffaloes. But if there was one thing you were, it was tenacious.

When the Great Destroyer returned, you feared that your inherent frailness only spelled ruin for you and your tribe, soon to join the scattered remains of your ancestors. Despite the risks, you boldly joined the other Wild Spice leaders and offered your loyalty and service to Burning Spice Cookie.

He had looked over you and laughed, calling you weak and pathetic. As you knelt there, showing your sincere devotion, you thought it was all over for you. Still, Burning Spice miraculously passed over you and left you be. The Great Destroyer was not known to spare those he thought weak, so you could only imagine that he saw something in you that you hadn't. Since that moment, you were inspired by the Great Destroyer, not out of fear but admiration. You knew he didn't care for you. With a sweep of his hand, he could wipe your existence from this earth in seconds. But still, you fought hard and trained harder until your dough was cracked and crumbling to show that you had a right to continue living. Burning Spice Cookie had spared you. Your life had to mean something to him.

The little thing kneeling at his feet was pathetic. A Cookie so fragile that their dough cracked at the mildest of strikes was not worthy to be in his presence. And yet, instead of hiding from his inevitable fury, here you were. Burning Spice had to admit, you had guts. He didn't want to waste his time crumbling you himself when he knew you wouldn't put up a good fight. It would be far more entertaining to watch you struggle, only for you to fall to your unavoidable fate.

And yet...

That moment never came. Regardless of how grievous your wounds or the crumbling of your dough, you threw yourself back into battle again and again. Unafraid of the death that awaited you. Burning Spice Cookie found himself almost... fascinated by you.

You were so fragile, doomed to fail. And yet... you fought to cling a little longer to your short, pathetic life.

It reminded him of a time long past.

One day, after Burning Spice had enough of the annoying thoughts of you buzzing around his head, he decided to pay your tribe a visit. All the inhabitants of your tribe weren't as tough as you, which was somewhat of a disappointment. They scurried into their homes, terrified of him, or fell to their knees, grovelling at his feet for mercy. But you... you remained standing, like a resolute warrior, poised as if death were coming to claim you. You were unafraid. You had accepted it, but that did not mean you would go without a grand fight.

He approached you, ignoring the rest of your tribe, and you bowed your head in respect to the Great Destroyer. You didn't bow as deeply as you used to, but Burning Spice let it slide.

You had changed. Your eyes held a solemn understanding, and your dough was now riddled with scars, honourable rewards of fighting to see another day.

Burning Spice Cookie watched you, realizing he had no words. Why had curiosity brought him here to see you? He couldn't come up with an answer. His previous excuse of being amused by your antics had faded into something... else.

You broke the silence and invited Burning Spice Cookie into your humble home, and he accepted. Your tribe was astonished at their leader, who stood fearlessly in front of the Great Destroyer, and he had not razed their village to the ground in retaliation.

"Well, this is a surprise." Burning Spice Cookie mused. It was still surprising to him. Destruction was the end of all things, whether by his hand or not. But you stood in the face of it and fought it. Refusing to meet it on its terms.

"That I'm still here?" You replied bluntly, an amused smile on your face. Burning Spice Cookie would usually have felt excitement upon discovering a Cookie like you - someone who could ignite his passion and provide a worthy challenge now that you had grown stronger against all odds. However, that’s not how he felt at this moment. It wasn't even boredom. Instead, he felt the same solemness reflected in your eyes.

Burning Spice Cookie asked you to be his right hand. The request came so suddenly that it left you momentarily stunned. All the strife and gruelling work you had endured had finally paid off in a way you never could have imagined.

"Yes, I would be honored, my lord. Thank you." You said, quickly bowing your head deeply in gratitude.

Burning Spice Cookie knew that your luck was going to eventually run out and your fragile dough would crumble, slipping through his fingers like the sands of time. Like with all things, it was inevitable, regardless of how hard you fought to cling to your pitiful life.

But he would be there when it happened, he would watch you. He would burn your rage into his mind as you descended into the endless night, fighting and spitting for just one more day.

Once you joined your ancestors, he would remember you. Always.

[topguncortez]

Pink Skies - J. Seresin x Shy!Wifey

whumptober masterlist || previous day

Prompt: "Leave No Trace Behind, Like You don't Even Exist"

synopsis: The Seresin kids have all come home, but not for the reason they wish it was for. Jake has to face his hardest challenge yet, saying goodbye to the love of his life. Based on the song "Pink Skies" By Zach Bryan

warnings: MAJOR character death, implied suicide, dying of a broken heart, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of postmortem body tampering (does not happen, but it is a concern that is brought up), mentions of parental death, grieving process.

word count: 4.3k

“The kids are in town for a funeral. So pack the car and dry your eyes.” 

Alex let out a deep sigh as he parked his car in front of the one place he had been dreading coming back to. Ever since getting that call, he had waited until the last possible moment to make the trip down from Lemoore. He would’ve put it off longer, showing up the day of, but a tearful call from his sister told him he needed to be back sooner. 

The house felt cold as he turned the knob, the only sign of life was the misplaced shoes by the front door and his dad’s truck in the driveway. He had been back a few weeks prior, helping do some odd end things while his dad attended to his mother, and even then, the house still felt warm and lived in. Now, this house felt anything like the childhood home he had been raised in. 

“Elle!?” Alex shouted, hearing voices and clattering from the kitchen. 

“In here!” His sister called out. Her blonde hair looked like a halo around her head as she turned to greet her brother, “Hey,” Her smile was bright, well as bright as it could be as she pulled him for a tight hug, “How are ya stranger?” 

“Been good,” Alex nodded stiffly, pulling back from his sister, “Where’s everyone else?” 

Ella sighed, stuffing her hands in the back pocket of her jeans, “Eli and Stella are at Val and Javy’s. I sent the twins to go grocery shopping and Dad is um. . . at the funeral home with grandpa and grandma.” 

Alex nodded again, watching as his sister got back to work cooking whatever meal she managed to scrounge up. Even though she had the looks and personality of their father, Ella Seresin was her mother to a t. She was the one who spent hours in the kitchen helping make meals and bake. Alex sat down at the kitchen table, glancing briefly at the various hospital bills and sympathy cards that had gathered there. Flowers had also started to gather around the kitchen, and he guessed that Ella also took care of all those. 

“Where’s Piper?” Ella spoke up from stirring something on the stove, “I swear Dad must have been photosynthesizing these past two weeks. I barely had the basic ingredients for spaghetti.” 

“She’ll come down tomorrow with Billie.” 

“God, I miss that girl.” 

Alex did too even though it had only been a day since he had seen his little girl. Her big blue eyes, soft blonde curls and big smile could make anyone in this situation feel better. All he wanted to do was curl up with his girls by his side. 

The two eldest Seresin kids sat in silence as Ella continued to work on dinner. Alex missed the days of being so near his siblings. Him and Ella had always been two peas in a pod, though their personalities varied greatly, they always leaned on each other when they needed one another. Alex could remember those late nights, sneaking back through the backdoor after being at a party they shouldn’t have been at. Their mom, somehow, always knowing that they had left, would leave a plate of cookies, water, and tylenol on the kitchen counter with a note: 

“Cookies gone, means you are home. Wake me if you need - love, mom” 

How Alex wished he could turn back time and get a plate of her homemade chocolate chip cookies again. 

The silence was broken with the sound of the garage door opening, followed by the rambunctious sound of the youngest Seresin boys. Jasper and Maxwell Seresin stumbled through the door, grocery bags lined on their arms. Jasper’s blonde hair was long, hitting past his shoulders while Maxwell kept his cut short in a fade. Their eyes both widened seeing their older brother sitting at the table. 

“Do I have to like, salute you or some shit?” Maxwell asked, and Alex chuckled. 

“No you shit head,” Alex smiled, standing up and walking to his younger brother. The boy set the groceries down, embracing Alex in a hug. Alex fought back the sting of tears as he hugged him. Being almost 10 years apart had its positives and negatives. Alex got to watch them grow up with a whole new perspective, but he also missed out on those vital years when he went to the academy. While Maxwell decided he too, was going to join the military, getting into West Point (something that surprised the whole family when he applied), Jasper was going to NYU to major in music (also something that surprised the whole family). 

“Missed you bro,” Maxwell nodded, pulling away from him. 

“Missed you too,” Alex said, “And you,” He looked at Jasper, “Looking like fucking Fabio.” 

Jasper chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “Someone had to live the California lifestyle.” 

“Get over here,” Alex chuckled, pulling him into a hug too, “How are you guys? Doing. . . okay?” 

The twins looked at each other, it was a loaded question with about ten different answers they could give. The easy answer was to say “yes, we’re fine,” but they knew that would be a lie. Instead, they both just shrugged, grabbing plastic bags from the ground and beginning to put them away. Alex shot his sister a look, who also just shrugged. She knew them better than he did, having stayed in San Diego for college, completing ROTC before going to flight school and becoming a pilot herself. As much as Alex envied his sister for living the dream that he wanted, he was mighty proud of her. Only a handful of women were pilots in the Navy, and an even smaller number were TopGun pilots. 

“I’m making spaghetti,” Ella said, trying to cut the tension in the kitchen, “Should be ready soon. Anyone heard from Dad? Eli?” 

“Eli said he’s staying at Aunt Val’s for dinner, but will be home for dessert,” Jasper chimed in, “You did make dessert, didn’t you?” 

“The fuck I look like?” Ella sassed, “Betty Crocker?” 

“Mom would’ve made dessert,” Maxwell said. 

And just like that, the tension filled the kitchen once again. Ella looked around, trying to fight back the burning sensation of tears in her eyes. She was yet to cry, and she told herself she wasn’t going to start crying over a comment about dessert. She sniffled, blinking back tears as she looked up at the ceiling, seeing that there was still a crack in the foundation that her dad was supposed to fix years ago. 

“You’re right,” Ella nodded, “And she would’ve let us take turns having a spoon of batter.” Ella clapped her hands, “Alright, pretty sure I wrote down the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. Help me get them started?” She looked at her three brothers, who all nodded and helped her find the items. 

— — — 

“I know they’ve got plenty of young blood left in them”

It was dark by the time Jake had returned back to the house. This day had been more exhausting than the past three had been. Who knew there were so many details to decide on for a funeral? Jake was thankful that he had sat down and gone through all that so many, many years ago, putting it all in a manila envelope he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. He was slightly pissed that she had never thought of doing that, but then again, no one expected to one day just die before their life was truly over. 

Jake was surprised when he opened his front door to be met with the sound of laughter and soft music in the background. His house had been quiet for so many days that he had somewhat started to get used to it. He tossed his keys in the bowl by the front door and toed off his shoes, before making his way to the kitchen where he was met with the sight of his five children, all sitting around the table, all laughing. 

“Oh my god,” Eli shook his head, tears in his eyes, “I don’t remember that at all.” 

“Oh I do,” Alex said, “I thought Mom was going to ground my ass for days. I did everything I could to glue Bucky’s urn back together.” 

The whole table burst back out into laughter, not a single one of them paying attention to their dad in the doorway. It felt like old times, and for the first time in a week, Jake felt like his heart was beating in his chest again. There was warmth in the house that he once considered his home. 

“Hey dad,” Ella said, tipping her wine glass to him, “Alex was just telling us about how he and Eli decided to play football in the house and broke Bucky’s urn.” 

“It wasn’t me! It was Maxwell!” Alex pleaded, “I was just supposed to be babysitting.” 

Jake chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. Y/N had been in near tears when she came home to her eldest son sweeping up the ashes of their beloved family pet. Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing over the phone as she tried to explain. 

“Surprisingly, that’s not the worst phone call I got while at work,” Jake sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting next to his daughter. 

“Oh yeah?” Eli challenged, “What was the worst?” 

“Rooster Bradshaw telling me that my wife had my son on our bedroom floor.” 

— — — 

“So clean the house, clear the drawers, mop the floors, stand tall” 

Jake hated packing. 

Over the course of his military career, he had packed up and moved with a moment's notice. Before he had met Y/N, all his personal belongings had been what the Navy had issued him, plus a handful of civilian clothes and things to go out in. It was easier that way, to shove all his stuff into those navy blue duffle bags and leave for his next assignment. But Y/N had changed all that the moment she came into his life. 

He had never felt like he could settle down, that he could actually put things on his walls, and buy furniture and have an actual house that was a home, and not the standard issued living quarters the Navy had. When he had asked Y/N to move in with him, the first thing she showed up with was a welcome mat to place in front of the door. Jake could remember smiling so big, his cheeks hurt, before handing her his credit card and telling her, “make this place your home.” 

Now, Jake sat in their bedroom, a cardboard box at his feet as he wondered where to start cleaning. He had decided last night that he was going to sell the house. It didn’t feel the same knowing that his wife wasn’t going to walk through the door anymore or spend hours upon hours in the backyard building the garden of her dreams. Their children were all scattered across the country, Ella and Alex in Northern California, Eli in the midwest, and the Twins on the East Coast. Sure, the kids were upset when Jake had told them that he was selling their family home, but they knew it was for the best. Alex had immediately opened his doors for his dad to come live with him. 

Jake sighed, shaking his head and standing up from the bed. The bedroom was going to be a job for another day. 

Jake walked downstairs, where his kids were busy making piles of things to keep and things to give away. He smiled as he watched them reminisce about different items they found; pictures of them as kids, old sports trophies, art projects that hung on the fridge. 

“Hey, who is gonna get the door?” Jasper asked, as he was wearing an old baseball team hat. 

“Oh shit yeah,” Maxwell nodded, “What are we going to do with the door?” 

Alex shrugged, “It's part of the house.” 

“Yeah but, it’s the door,” Jasper whispered, “We all got measured on the door. Hell, even Bucky and Steve got measured on the door.” 

A pang of sadness hit Jake as he looked toward the front closet door. Jake could remember holding a very small, toddler Alex against the door as Y/N marked his height on his first birthday. It had been a tradition ever since then, each Seresin child (both human and furbaby) got measured on their birthday against the door. Jake didn’t say anything as he walked into the garage, grabbing his tool kit. His kids all stared at him as he walked in, opening the closet door and began taking it off the hinges. 

“Dad. . .” Ella called out to him, but the look on his face told them he was determined to get this door off the hinges. Alex stood up from his spot on the floor, going to Jake and helping him. Once the door was off, Alex leaned it against the wall, tears in his eyes. 

“So,” Jake huffed a breath, looking over at his kids, “Ella, there was no way you were four-one on your eighth birthday.” 

Ella ended up taking the door home. 

— — — 

“If you could see ‘em now, you’d be proud.” 

Ella couldn’t remember the last time she had dug her dress blues out of her closet. It had to have been for her Uncle Mav’s funeral years ago. She wasn’t shocked to see them outdated, with her old rank and ribbons still on them. She hated wearing her dress blues. Nothing good ever came from wearing dress blues. 

It wasn’t very often that civilian funerals got honored this way. But when your aunt is the commander of the Pacific Fleet, some calls get made. The moment Grace “Dragon” Bradshaw got the call about Y/N Seresin, she was pulling out all the stops she could. Dragon had called Jake, telling him that she was sending a unit to stand by Y/N’s body, until she could be moved to the funeral home. It was the least she could do, given all Y/N has done over the years. Sure, being a naval aviator was hard work; flying missions at top speed, spending months at a time in the middle of the ocean, working your body to its physical and mental limits, wondering if you are going to make it home alive. But being the one at home, having to take care of the kids and the house and the animals and everything else, was also hard. 

How Y/N did it, was beyond Dragon’s knowledge. Raising five kids while Jake was gone for extended periods of time. Dragon could remember the first time she had to deploy, leaving behind her husband and son, Cash, she thought she wasn’t going to make it through. Dragon had called Bradley in tears, totally ignoring the time difference, begging to see her son. It was even harder for Dragon after the birth of her daughter, Noa. 

Jake sat on his bed, his hat in his hands. His thumb rubbed along the worn edge, trying to find the strength to put it on and go down stairs. He was thankful that Dragon had gotten this honor for his wife, knowing the sacrifices she had made during his time in the Navy. He never imagined that there would come a day, him still in the Navy and Y/N not here. Every plan that they ever had, the things they had dreamed about doing once the ink dried on his retirement papers. 

“I want to get one of those pull-behind campers,” Y/N said as they looked up at the stars one night, “My parents did about a month-long camping trip when dad retired. I want to do that.” 

“Sweets, we can do anything you want,” Jake said, looking at her like she had hung the moon. It took a strong woman to stand next to a military man, and an even stronger woman to have a family with him. If a month-long camping trip to the middle of nowhere was what she wanted, then that’s what she was going to get, “I’ve never been up to Yellowstone, or the Grand Canyon.” 

“You’ve never been to the Grand Canyon!” Y/N gasped, looking over at him. 

“No,” Jake shook his head, “We were going to go but we got called out.” 

Y/N sighed, looking down at her hands. There were a lot of trips that they never got to go on because of Jake’s job. She hated it, but would never admit it outloud, how many things Jake had missed over the years because of the Navy. The births, the birthdays, the first steps, the first days of school, the vacations, the first dances, the first breakups, the college acceptance letters. Jake knew that she had a small resentment for what he did, it was normal, but she never held it over his head. 

“Well, it’s not that cool,” Y/N said, trying to play off her sadness, “It’s like a giant red hole in the earth. And the kids really didn’t like it. Eli cried the whole time and Ella scraped her knee falling in the parking lot. Totally skippable.” 

Jake gave her a small smile, reaching over and grabbing her hand, “Totally.” 

Standing up from the bed, Jake ran his fingers through his graying blonde hair. He remembers joking with Y/N, shortly before her death, that he was happy he was going gray and not losing his hair. But he wouldn’t be surprised if he was going to lose it now, after the past couple of weeks he’s gone through. Jake walked down the stairs, pausing at the sight of his five kids, all of them in various different military dress uniforms, Alex and Ella both in their Navy dress blues, Eli in his Army pinks and greens, and then the twins in their very best black suits with lavender ties (Y/N’s favorite colors). 

“Oh Sweets,” Jake whispered, “You would be so proud of them.” 

And Y/N was beyond proud of her kids. She had jokingly gotten those car decals that say “Proud Military Mom” and “My Daughter is in the Navy!”, putting each of them in the fridge. The kids hated them, blushing in embarrassment every time someone would point them out, but Y/N was so proud of them. She even managed to find a “My Son is going to NYU!” sticker for Jasper. 

“Dad, are you ready?” Maxwell asked, looking up at his father. Out of all the kids, Maxwell turned out looking the most like his mother. 

Jake just nodded, walking the rest of the way down the steps and towards the garage. The kids all looked at each other, before following him out. Jake decided to ride to the funeral with Ella and Maxwell. Piper Trace, Natasha and Luke’s daughter, and Alex’s wife, had come down yesterday with their daughter, Billie, the other day. Though Jake loved his grandchild, he just couldn’t muster up the energy to keep up with her. Eli and Stella rode in another car with Jasper. 

“Your funeral was beautiful. I bet God heard you coming.” 

The funeral was exactly how Jake had planned it, or slightly planned it. He doesn’t remember much about sitting in the funeral director’s office, trying to make decisions on things like what color casket and flower arrangements and songs to play. But everything was perfect, from the flower arrangements to the eulogies the kids gave. When it was Jake’s turn to speak, he removed his hat, placing it gently on the head of the casket. 

“I’m not sure if I can find the right words to say,” Jake started, looking at the large portrait of his wife, “There’s no right words to explain what it feels like to lose the love of your life. Though we’ve been together for half the time we’ve been alive. . . it still feels like we didn’t get enough time. And some days, I’m not sure if I can live without her.” 

It felt like a constant battle for Jake. Getting up every morning and looking over, finding her spot on the bed still made. Seeing her clothes still hung up and put away. Sitting on the couch, waiting for her to walk in with her hands full of either flowers or floral magazines having to get things ready at the shop, or hustling in to grab a quick bite of dinner before dashing off to whatever child’s event she had to go to. There were days, where Jake felt like he was so in the dark, that he would never see the light. That was, until his kids came around. 

Jake’s eyes shifted to his kids, who all sat in the front row, their partners and children sitting behind them, “Your mother was perfect. In every single thing she did. She was perfect. She would lie and say ‘I’m not perfect’, but she was. There will never, ever, be another person like her. And I’m so lucky that she took a chance on me. Even when I messed it all up, she still took a chance on me. There’s going to be a hole in my heart, for the rest of my life.” 

When the funeral was over, the family had a small, private burial. Jake picked a plot that was near Nick Bradshaw, Maverick and Iceman’s plots. Y/N only knew two of the three men, but it still felt right burying her near there. It felt like family, it felt familiar, it felt like the right pieces to the puzzle, putting her there. Each of the five seresin kids sprinkled a bit of dirt on the dark mahogany casket, as it was lowered into the ground. Ella had tried to get her dad to leave, but Jake wanted to stay until the very last moment. 

“Dad,” Ella said softly, placing her hand on his bicep as the groundskeeper started to lower the vault lid, “Come on, Aunt Bea and Uncle Bob are hosting the luncheon.” 

Jake shook his head, “I can’t leave her here like this.” Jake hated thinking about it, but he wanted to make sure that Y/N’s body was left alone, that she was buried and entered in peace, not having been tampered with. Ella frowned at her dad, leaving his side and getting into her car, her feet aching in her dress shoes. Once the dirt had been packed on top of the grave, Jake turned and got into his daughter’s car. 

He was thankful that Bob and Bea decided to host the after funeral meal at their house and not his own. Jake had stayed for a little bit, catching up with old coworkers and friends. He didn’t really have much to say to them, other than he was thankful that they came to the funeral. Jake never realized the amount of people that Y/N had met over the years or had created some impact on. People from Lemoore, Pensacola, Hawai’i, and even from overseas had flown in when they heard what had happened. 

“I’m going to go home,” Jake said to Alex, whose arm was wrapped around his heavily pregnant wife. It was like deja vu, watching Alex and Piper interact. 

“Okay,” Alex nodded, “Do you need me to drive you?” 

“No,” Jake shook his head, looking around at the people at the table. It was truly like a blast from the past. All at the table sat a kid from every dagger squad member; Alex Seresin, Stella Machado, Cash Bradshaw, Piper Trace, Josephine Floyd, Mickey Jr Garcia, and Jordan Fitch. It filled Jake’s heart with joy, knowing that the next generation was as close as he is to his friends. 

“Ella said I can take her car,” Jake said, “Stay here with them. You guys don’t see each other enough anymore.” 

Alex nodded, looking back at the group of kids he grew up with, “Yeah. We’ll be home soon to put Billie to bed.” 

“Take your time,” Jake said, patting his son’s shoulder, before leaving. 

It was only three weeks later that Alex found himself pulling up to his parents house. The same familiar feeling of dread filling his body as he put his car in park and grabbed his duffle bag out of the back. Ella, of course, was already there, trying to make the best of a sad situation. Just as before, the house felt cold and unwelcoming as Alex kicked his shoes off, by his sister’s misplaced ones. 

“Ella?” Alex called out. 

“In here!” She called back from the kitchen. Alex stopped in the doorway, giving his sister a sad smile, “Didn’t think we’d all be back so soon.” 

“Neither did I,” Alex sighed and wrapped his sister up in a tight hug.

It was a lie, Alex knew the last time he saw his dad, that it wasn’t going to be a long time until they were all called back here. Alex felt a tad guilty, the morning that he left, with a box full of stuff from the house, his wife and child in tow, watching his dad’s retreating figure out the rearview window. He wished he would have stayed. He wished that he would have convinced Jake to come up to Lemoore with him. To get some time away from the house, away from the memory of the love he had lost. Jake was stubborn, giving his son the promise to visit soon for the birth of his next grandbaby. But instead, Alex got another tearful call from his sister, begging him to come back home. 

“He said he couldn't live without her.”

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[jamil-s-wifey]

Headcanon request of how the dorm leaders (with kalim replaced w/ jamil if possible) would react to their crush accidentally taking a love potion and acting extra affectionate to them?

Oh I love this so much! There are a few hcs out there about similar situations and they're ALWAYS my favourite to read! I'm so glad I finally got to write some on my own! I hope you enjoy!!!

Warning: slightly suggestive at times.

P.s. the love potion doubles as a truth potion. You'll see what I mean! I've left off on a somewhat open ending, so do tell if you'd like a p2!

Of course you were going to be partners with Ace of all people in Potions. The almost apologetic look, which professor Crewel sent you wasn't really helping you feel any less like a martyr. Any less... patronised. But what were you to do, rather than accept your fate gracefully and see where that takes you.

The potion, which was to be made was a truth potion. It was simple, really. Few ingredients, fewer steps. And it looked exactly like in the picture, only a little less orange and a little more pink. But that was normal, right?

Only it wasn't a truth potion. And Ace decided to put it in a water bottle. The same water bottle as yours. Why? To hide the fact that it was slightly pinker, than orange. Did Crewel buy it? No. But you? You did. One misplaced bottle, an unsuspecting MC and a series of unfortunate events.

When did your juice taste so unbelievably sweet?

"Oh no..."

Riddle was perfectly unsuspecting, going about his day, preparing for an unbirthday party, when he saw Ace practically dragging you to him. The moment you laid eyes on Riddle, a dopey smile appeared on your face.

He is confused ™️. You slipped Ace's grip and threw yourself on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, practically hanging off him. "Riddle, the love of my life, I missed you so much, my heart can't beat when you're not around me."

Riddle's face turned 50 shades of red at that exact moment. He turned to Ace for an explanation, feeling embarrassment stir in his heart. And why did you sound like Rook?!

"LOVE POTION. WILL WEAR OUT, BYE " Aaaaand he was gone. Riddle was about to yell after him, when you grabbed his face, looking deep into his eyes. "Riddle, you're so pretty today."

His heart skipped a beat. In fact, it skipped a few too many beats. "Prefect, please. You're under the influence of a potion." He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself.

"But the potion only shows my true feelings for you! I've always loved you!" You smiled at him, running your fingers through his hair.

"T-then... Let's speak about this after the potion wears off, okay?" He asked, reluctantly patting you on the shoulder. (Smooth. V smooth.) "Fine, but only if you stay with me. I want to spend time with you!"

"I will. Until you recover and then some."

He could hear your footsteps, approaching his napping spot in the botanical gardens, so he already knew you were coming before you called out to him. "Leona!" And there it was, your sing-song voice, much cheerier than usual.

He lazily opened one eye as to acknowledge your existence. He expected you to sit down and tell him of whatever wacky shenanigans you'd got into. What he didn't expect was for you to climb into his lap, smothering him in a hug. Was he flustered? Yes. Was he about to show it? Hell no.

"Damn, what has gotten into you today, herbivore? You're unusually... annoying."

No. No, do not give him the puppy eyes, he can't take it. Oh god. "I just wanted to come see you! Mmm, you smell so good." You whispered, shoving your face into the crook of his neck. The whole position you two were in was quite...the sight. A growl escaped him, before he pushed you back, to look you in the eyes. Were your pupils... Hearts?!

"What the fuck has happened to you? Did you ingest something you shouldn't?" Now that he thought about it, your breath did smell sweeter, no, all of you smelled sweeter. He was perceptive, terrifyingly so. In fact he was pretty sure a love potion was responsible for your actions. You seemed drunk (off of him).

"Fuck, get off, we gotta go to the infirmary, or better yet - to Crewel, to brew an antidote.

"But- maybe I like being like this. At least I'm bold enough to show you how much I love you like this!"

....wait what?

He was about to have a very long chat with you once all of this was resolved.

Azul was finishing up the preparation for a new FRESH BATCH of contracts, when a knock on the door interrupted him. In came Jade, followed by you - a very giddy-looking you.

"My apologies, they insisted they had to see you." With those words, Jade left the vicinity, knowing fully well what was about to go down (because of course the fucker knew you weren't being fully yourself. He was also acutely aware of Azul's growing infatuation with you.)

"Azul, I come with a proposition. Let's form a relationship contract, where we both get all benefits of being a couple!" You moved behind his desk, grabbing his hand. "It's a limited time offer. Sealed with a kiss!"

Azul was: Flustered. Flabbergasted. Bamboozled. Floored. Gone. Out of the stratosphere. He was torn between running away to his octopot and smootly answering by presenting a contract, ready-made for the occasion. (Which he totally had.)

"M-MC. This is rather sudden of you-" he started, fixing his glasses. "I did not expect...such a proposition." Not that he would complain.

You moved closer to him, wrapping your other arm around his neck. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?" Those eyes of yours were piercing through his very heart, unnaturally so... Suspiciously unnaturally.

"MC, if you may, could you perhaps wait until I've... finished writing down the logistics of such a contract?"

Your smile widened and he swore he felt Cupid's arrow pierce through him. "Of course, for you I'd wait a lifetime, my handsome octopus~"

You were never THIS bold with him. He had to investigate further.

Jamil had just finished basketball practice, when he bumped into you. Or more so, you bumped into him. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, bringing him down to leave a kiss on his cheek. "Hey, Jamil~ Fancy seeing you here."

What in the Sevens' name-

He felt blood rush to his face at an alarming rate. Looking away, he pushed you back to create some distance between you two. "What has gotten into you?!" He asked, exasperated, still keeping you at arm's length. He was NOT prepared for his crush doing that out of nowhere.

"I'm just greeting you, silly! I passed by the gym, figured I'd say hi~"

"Okay. Hi. What do you want? You can't just...go around doing that." He did not have time to deal with whatever this is, he figured it was most probably a prank of some kind.

"What makes you think I go around kissing people. I only want to kiss you!" You smiled at him so lovingly, he could barely keep his knees from buckling. This was quickly becoming very overwhelming for him.

"Where is...all of this coming from, exactly? Are you fever-striken or something?" He lay a hand on your forehead, y'know, just checking.

"It's not a fever, Jamil. I'm just reaaaaally into you!"

"Stop joking around about this."

"I'm serious!" You grabbed his hand, laying it over your heart. His eyes narrowed. It's not like he didn't believe you, but this was far too sudden and you seemed far too..out of it of sorts. His sixth sense was screaming at him. He considered cornering Ace after taking you home. He already seemed pretty fidgety during practice.

"Okay. Look. Let's talk about this over coffee tomorrow, alright? My treat."

"Oooh, so a date, then?"

"Yes... a date. Now let me walk you back to Ramshackle."

The moment you saw Ace's horrified expression, you knew there was only one person you could turn to - Vil. He could surely help brew an antidote. As fast as possible you made your way to Pomefiore, worried about what the potion might do to you. However, the moment you laid eyes on him, you felt your own emotions overwhelm you.

"Vil!"

He was in the lounge, scolding conversing with Epel. The moment your eyes met, the most lovestruck of smiles crawled on your face. "Ah, I'm so happy to see you. I missed you greatly!" You walked over to him, a slight skip in your step. Vil merely raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing here, potato? Unannounced, and you look like you've run here." He dismissed Epel, mumbling how he'll 'deal with him later', instead turning his attention fully to you.

"I came to ask for help, I accidentally ingested a potion. But now that I'm here-" you moved to link your arm with his. "I could maybe spend some time with you? We haven't seen each other in nearly a week, handsome." You winked at him.

"Potato, as much as I enjoy spending time with you, you can't ju- wait. What potion???" He grabed you by the shoulders. "How did it happen?!"

You smiled at him, reaching out to gently grasp a strand of his hair and twirl it. "It was supposed to be a truth potion, but something went wrong. Ace put it in a water bottle and I drank it. But I feel perfectly fine, especially now that I'm here. Ah, somehow I never get the chance to tell you how much you truly mean to me. And I mean it romantically."

He nearly lost his cool. Hiding his frazzled state behind a dainty cough, clearly fake, not that there was anybody around to call him out, a deep sigh escaped his lips. "You probably added too much chicory root and turned it into a love potion."

You frowned. "But my feelings are very real. I could just never tell you before. Do you.. not return them?"

"Pota- MC, let me brew you an antidote, and then I'll give you my answer, okay?"

You had texted him, saying you urgently needed to go see him. And you even had texted your code word for "fucking emergency, drop what you're doing right now". Yes, the word was "capybara". Much unlike his usual self, he quickly exited the game he was playing, after all - you only used that word once before, and he really didn't want to ponder on THAT time.

Just as he was about to text you back, a hurried knock on his door startled him.

"MC?" He questioned, looking around to make sure his room was at least somewhat decent looking. You'd hung out with him countless times before, but he wanted to double-check anyways.

"Yes! I'm coming in!" And there you stood, worry instantly leaving your features the moment you spotted him. "Ah, Idia. I'm so lucky to have you.~" before he could react, you made a few steps forward and threw yourself on him, hugging him.

Now, Idia has never been one to appreciate any kind of contact, especially physical. But having his crush hug him. Nah. His internal graphics card isn't strong enough to withstand such situations. He felt himself nearly overheat at the feeling of your body against his. The tiniest of yelps escaped him - the clearest of signs that his body was going into overdrive.

"Idia, something really bad happened and I fear it might affect me. I should stay indoors until it wears off, can we just stay here and cuddle?"

CUDDLE?! C U D D L E?! D-DID HE HEAR YOU RIGHT?! His knees buckled and the two of you fell to the floor. "W-wha-" he couldn't even form his sentence. And it became even worse, once you nestled into his arms, making yourself more comfortable. "I've been waiting for a long time to do this~" you murmured, a satisfied smile on your lips.

He gathered all of the strength in his body, mind and soul, to ask you. "W-what bad thing happened?"

"I drank a potion in class. I don't know what will happen to me and when it will wear off." You mumbled, fingers tracing over his chest. "But I feel safe now. So it's okay."

What kind of potion? He focused all of his attention to the information given to him. He had to know, insecurities and anxiety be damned, you used *the code word* after all.

Somehow, he hoped his suspicions were incorrect.

Malleus was walking near Ramshackle, waiting patiently for your arrival, as the two of you'd scheduled an afternoon walk. Naturally, he saw you approach from a mile away, but the worried look on your face, alarmed him . What alarmed him even more was the faint magical residue, emanating off of you. You were supposed to be magicless, right? Did somebody try to attack you?

As you reached him, you immediately buried your face in his chest, hugging him tightly. He returned the hug, gently running his fingers through your hair. You two were already close enough to have some form skinship, but somehow you were never this forward.

"Tsunotarou", you mumbled, looking up at him. "I'm sorry I'm late." "Nonsense, Child of man. I reckon you're just on time. Is this what has you so troubled?"

"Not really, we had an accident in potions class." Before you could further elaborate, you reached out, cupping his cheek. "But it's okay. This is the most free I've ever felt. As if I'm soaring through the sky, and for once I'm not overthinking my every move. And it's all because of you." You stroked his cheek gently. "Have I ever told you how much I like you?"

His eyes grew wide open at the carefree admission. He was one split second decision away from kissing you breathless right then and there, but somehow he knew something was very wrong. "My, how bold of you, my dear." His surprise soon turned to sorrow, as he pieced together the situation. "It appears that accident may have involved a love potion."

"It was supposed to be a truth potion." You corrected with a small giggle.

"Alas, those two are easy to mix. I appreciate the boldness, I truly do, my dear. However, seeing as you're under the influence of such a potion, I cannot respond in any way."

A bitter smile graced his lips as he patted you on the head. "Let us bring you to Professor Crewel, to brew an antidote. In the meantime, you can tell me which insolent soul is responsible for this."

You pouted at him. "Crewel said it will wear off on its own. And once it does, I will come and confess to you again, to show you how real my feelings are."

That made him smile a bit, as his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Some may call it false hope. He calls it dedication.

"Then I shall await that moment most ardently, my dear."

[physalian]

7 Misused Tropes (And How to Improve Them)

Tropes in isolation aren’t inherently bad, but a lot of them are prone to poor execution. Each one of these probably could have a whole post by themselves. A few of these used to be good but have since fallen by the wayside as their original meaning has been lost.

7. Dramatic Miscommunication

You know the ones. I think it’s worse when the story is otherwise good, the writers just could not come up with a better way to get X alone or send Y off on the necessary side quest than the lowest of low hanging fruit.

Two essential ingredients for fixing this trope: Precedent and consequences

Precedent–have the character doing the missassuming already be prone to jumping to conclusions, already suspicious or insecure, or misled by a third party so this looks inevitable, instead of pulled out of your ass.

Consequences–usually these are big blow up fights that fizzle out without any impact on the plot once they fulfill their purpose, but if it’s a nasty enough fight, characters shouldn’t just forgive and forget. While they might not completely ruin relationships, it should have characters taking a step back and either second guessing where they stand, or using this blowup to fix an underlying issue in said relationship.

6. Love Triangles

Good Love Triangle for the first 3 seasons: Elena/Stefan/Damon (TVD).

Bad Love Triangle for the entire series: Bella/Edward/Jacob (Twilight).

The difference between them (besides time to flesh out both candidates) is that both brothers brought valid pros and cons to Elena’s life, both got the chance to be with her, and Elena’s whole arc wasn’t solely focused on the agonizing choice of which brother she should pick. Regardless of which camp you’re in, Stefan brought stability, that classic cliché high school romance, mostly all good vibes. He never challenged her or talked down to her or got aggressive with her. Damon did the opposite, for better or for worse, and we know which direction the show went.

On the other hand, Jacob never for one second stood a chance with Bella and the narrative wasn’t kidding anyone. They never so much as went on one date (unless you count the motorcycle ride) and it seemed like Bella was only letting him hang on for pity’s sake. Theoretically he brought pros to the table that Edward couldn’t (like, idk, being alive), but the narrative never explored what could be done with him. He just ended up being the Nice Guy friend who then decided it’d be hot to lust after an infant.

5. Agency-less Chosen Ones

These tend to be wish fulfillment characters that bring nothing to the story and have no discernible skills, yet are constantly in the middle of the action, have all the love interests fawning over them, and are Important and Critical to saving the world… because the narrative said so. They don’t make a single choice the entire plot except to move forward or stagnate, chosen by the gods or a prophecy or fate and destiny.

The problem: These characters walk with the crutch of “I’m the chosen one thus I don’t need a reason to exist in the story” and that’s just not a satisfying narrative shortcut. So? Give them agency. Even if they’re chosen by some ancient prophecy, you still have to convince the reader why the Universe wasn’t just talking out of its ass.

Good example: Emmet from Lego Movie literally says he’s useless and has no skills and cannot think outside the Lego box. He’s supposed to be as generic as painfully possible and when he does have creative ideas, they’re supposed to be asinine and stupid. And yet. He might be physically dragged around by the other characters, but he has plenty of choices, plenty of opposition to what’s happening, plenty to say about the state of his world, and his ideas do matter and his intimate knowledge of the instructions and playing by the rules is how they win.

4. Bad Boy Love Interests

These guys were supposed to be counter-culture icons, standing up to The Man for the little guy because he knows the system is broken and rigged. He’s an affront to the stereotypical nuclear lifestyle, he resents a robotic and soulless office job and wants to create art or music or in some way benefit his world and isn’t going to play nice just to get his way. He exists in contrast to the nuclear female protagonist: Conservative, demure, rule-following caged bird who falls in love with him because he shows her that life isn’t meant to be lived in The Man’s cage. He respects the authority that deserves respect, the teachers who actually give a shit, the janitors, the librarians, but probably not the principal or the police or the local politicians, because he knows they don’t respect him and respect is a two-way street. He’s probably a mama’s boy or at the very least loves his parents (if they’re alive) and while he might engage in a little property damage like graffiti, it’s for a good cause.

This dude is NOT SUPPOSED TO BE: Abusive, controlling, aggressive, or condescending to his love interest. He’s not supposed to be an overprotective stalker or plagued by insecure jealousy over any other man in his love interest’s life. He’s not rude to his friends or arrogant about his own smarts and doesn’t think he knows best about every little thing in the world. He’s not sexist or racist just to make himself feel better and he doesn’t pressure his love interest into sex because she owes him or whatever.

Ahem.

Please bring back classic bad boys. That is all.

3. Major Character Death (for shock value)

I remember the implosion of the Walking Dead fandom after they killed Carl, one of the very few characters who was supposed to make it to the end, for… various sketchy reasons and I could never figure out what was true. Some theorized that his actor was aging out of the ‘child actor’ payscale and they didn’t want to pay him as an adult and while I have no proof, it wouldn’t surprise me at all.

Carl died after getting bit in just one of those hectic moments where he got unlucky, while doing something noble and stupid. In isolation, it fits the nature of the “anyone can die” show but man did it just come across in poor taste.

Obviously “for shock value” shouldn’t be the reason you do anything in your story but there is still a way to pull it off without it causing a riot: Make sure they get killed in a non-contrived way. If you plan on killing off one of your heroes suddenly, either make it bitterly ironic, or make it a situation that this character would absolutely get themselves into. The more it “fits” the less likely audiences will see the hand of the author coming in just to break the character’s fictional contract.

2. The Power Inside You All Along

This trope is usually disappointing because it tends to melt a character’s whole arc down into something pointless—this whole adventure was apparently useless if they didn’t actually need to grow or change or challenge their conceptions of the world. They could have got up off the couch as joe shmoe and beat the villain day one.

While that’s probably not what their creator intends, ‘it was inside you all along *wink*’ tends to feel that way, as it discourages internal conflict. Usually, their creator is likely trying to convey the message that one need not change, that it’s what’s inside them already that makes them special.

I present to you once again Kung Fu Panda’s “there is no secret ingredient” i.e. “the power inside you”. The difference is. Po still has plenty of internal conflict: his own self-confidence. He begins the movie eager but inexperienced and a bit oblivious, fanboying it up around his heroes. He and Shifu both insult his weight and his lacking kung fu skills, and his arc is learning self-confidence, learning how to use his weight and the body he has to fight in a way that the villain isn’t prepared for, to where Po can shit-talk him to his face during the final fight.

Most failures of this trope don’t bother exercising their protagonist. They’re pissy and resistant for the entire story and only win when the narrative agrees they were right all along. Therefore, no change, no conflict, no resolution.

1. Strong Female Characters

So many of these read like "slapped boops on a male character". They don’t work for many reasons (usually being very preachy with their agendas), but they especially don’t work when by trying to be pro-feminist, they’re still reinforcing masculine standards. A lot of people, when Captain Marvel came out, said “you didn’t have any issues with Tony Stark being an asshole but now you do when he’s a woman” which. No.

Tony was an asshole, but being an asshole was the whole point of his character, and he got humbled right quick by getting blown up and held hostage. “Proof that Tony Stark Has a Heart” and all that.

Carol was an asshole with nothing to substantiate it, and never got a reality check. She had amnesia so we didn’t get insight into who she was before to understand this transition into dickishness and was so OP, she wasn’t ever physically or emotionally challenged like Tony was.

But the other thing is this: Slapping boobs on a male character with a slew of toxic masculine traits also says that to be a successful woman, you must behave like a man. It swings so far from the femme fatale sexy leg lamp that it comes around and eats its own tail. These characters are just mean and insecure and build themselves up by tearing down the men around them.

So. Calhoun from Wreck it Ralph is this exact trope done extremely well. She’s aggressive, arrogant, loud, rude, and cynical. For about 10% of her arc. The movie immediately throws her into a situation where her strengths are basically useless—she’s stuck in Candy Land and has to rely on someone who is the antithesis of her game and character to make it out. The movie also shows you why she’s cynical via her tragic backstory.

Not only that, she’s more than just a heap of toxic masculinity in a pixie cut. She laughs, she cries, she admits when she’s wrong, she has a soft side, a gentle side, a caring side, and remains a badass through and through.

Or, once again rolling out Tigress from Kung Fu Panda: Proud, aggressive, the snubbed chosen one, cynical, mean, and overconfident in her abilities. Tigress nearly gets her entire team killed in her arrogance. She’s allowed to be wrong, very wrong. She also has her soft moments and, like Calhoun, has a very valid reason for being jaded, and is still shown to be capable of softness and nurturing during the evacuation.

Third example to hammer home that I don’t hate badass women: Andromache. Jaded, overconfident, short-tempered, aggressive, and a little mean-spirited. Tragic explanatory backstory? Check. She is also caring and loyal to her team, allowed to get emotional, allowed to be wrong and fail and lose, and kind of the surrogate mom of the team, who can also laugh and joke around and have light-hearted moments.

Whether the character is a man or a woman, being an arrogant asshole who takes zero accountability and refuses to admit when they’re wrong and never loses, audiences aren’t going to like them.

[thejoyofseax]

Why We Can't Have Medieval Food

I noted in a previous post that I'd "expand on my thinking on efforts to reproduce period food and how we’re just never going to know if we have it right or not." Well, now I have 2am sleep?-never-heard-of-it insomnia, so let's go.

At the fundamental level, this is the idea that you can't step in the same river twice. You can put your foot down at the same point in space, and it'll go into water, but that's different water, and the bed of the river has inevitably changed, even a little, from the last time you did so.

Our ingredients have changed. This is not just because we can't get the fat from fat-tailed sheep in Ireland, or silphium at all anywhere, although both of those are true. But the aubergine you buy today is markedly different to the aubergine that was available even 40 years ago. You no longer need to salt aubergine slices and draw out the bitter fluids, which was necessary for pretty much all of the thing's existence before (except in those cultures that liked the bitter taste). The bitterness has been bred out of them. And the old bitter aubergine is gone. Possibly there are a few plants of it preserved in some archive garden, or a seed bank, or something, but I can't get to those.

We don't really have a good idea of the plant called worts in medieval English recipes. I mean, we know (or we're fairly sure) it was brassica oleracea. But that one species has cultivars as distinct as cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, kale, Brussels sprouts, collard greens, Savoy cabbage, kohlrabi, and gai lan (list swiped from Wikipedia). And even within "cabbage" or "kale", you have literally dozens of varieties. If you plant the seeds from a brassica, unless you've been moderately careful with pollination, you won't get the same plant as the seeds are from. You can crossbreed brassicas just by planting them near each other and letting them flower. And of course there is no way to determine what varietal any medieval village had, a very high likelihood that it was different to the village next door, and an exceedingly high chance that that varietal no longer exists. Further, it only ever existed for a few tens of years - before it went on cross-breeding into something different. So our access to medieval worts (or indeed, cabbage, kale, etc) is just non-existant.

Some other species within the brassica genus are as varied. Brassica rapa includes oilseed rape, field mustard, turnip, Chinese cabbage, and pak choi.

We have an off-chance, as it happens, of getting almost the same kind of apple as some medieval varieties, because apples can only be reproduced for orchard use by grafting, which is essentially cloning. Identification through paintings, DNA analysis, and archaeobotany sometimes let us pin down exactly which apple was there. But the conditions under which we grow those apples are probably not the same as the medieval orchard. Were they thinned? When were they harvested? How were they stored? And apples are pretty much the best case.

Medieval wheat was practically a different plant. It was far pickier about where it would grow, and frequently produced 2-4 grains per stalk. A really good year had 6-8. In modern conditions, any wheat variety with less than 30 grains per stalk would be considered a flop.

Meats are worse. Selective breeding in the last century has absolutely and completely changed every single species of livestock, and if you follow that back another five centuries, some of them would be almost unrecognisable. Even our heritage breeds are mostly only about 200 years old.

Cheese, well. Cheese is dependent on very specific bacteria, and there are plenty of conditions where the resulting cheese is different depending on whether it was stored at the back or front of the cave. Yogurts, quarks, skyrs, etc, are also live cultures, and almost certainly vary massively. (I have a theory about British cheese here, too, which I'll expand on in a future post)

So, even before you go near the different cooking conditions (wood, burnables like camel and cow dung, smoke, the material and condition of cooking pots), we just can't say with any reliability that the food we're making now is anything like medieval people produced from the same recipe. We can't even say that with much reliability over a century.

Under very controlled conditions, you could make an argument for very specific dishes. If you track down a wild mountain sheep in Afghanistan, and use water from a local spring, and salt from some local salt mine, then you can make a case that you can produce something fairly close to the original ma wa milh, the water-and-salt stew that forms the most basic dish in Arabic cookery. But once you start introducing domestic livestock, vegetables, or even water from newer wells, you're now adrift.

It is possible that some dishes taste exactly the same, by coincidence. But we can't determine that. We can't compare the taste of a dish from five years ago, let alone five hundred, because we're only just getting to a state where we can "record" a taste accurately. Otherwise it's memory and chance.

We've got to be at peace with this. We can put in the best efforts we can, and produce things that are, in spirit, like the medieval dishes we're reading about. But that's as good as it gets.

[kwanisms]

Accidents Happen — h.hyunjin, l.felix

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ witch!Felix × f!Reader × incubus!Hyunjin wc: 10.5k summary: While studying for a witches exam, Felix leaves his materials out where his girlfriend, Y/N, happens upon them. When she reads an incantation, an incubus is accidentally summoned. Deciding to make a spectacle of it, the demon forces Felix to watch as he seduces his girlfriend. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; supernatural, witchcraft, and demonic themes, establish relationship (Felix), s2l (Hyunjin); non idol au, witch au, demon au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, Felix practices witchcraft, alcohol consumption (Y/N has a glass of wine), Hyunjin is a menace and restrains Felix with his powers, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604  , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip Join the taglist! »» Closes 10/30 @ 23:00 CST! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: this one is kinda dark, not gonna lie so read with caution. This isn't a joke lol this is also kind of self indulgent cause I can. I used Google Translate again for the spell, so it might not be super accurate but I'm not really going for accuracy here lol it's smut. Thank you so much for reading, if you like this pls reblog or comment! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (demons don’t care lol but you should), somnophilia, auralism, mind break, cuckold, use of pet names (Felix calls her angel, baby, but Hyunjin calls her slut, whore, etc), Hyunjin is a menace and Felix is a sobbing mess. Let me know if I missed anything!

dialogue prompt: ❛ I’m going to have you screaming by the end of the night ❜ & ❛ do you really think you’re in a position to be giving orders? ❜

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Witches. Beings that have existed all throughout history and have instilled fear in communities for centuries. Practitioners of dark magic. Beings that worship the devil and sell their souls in exchange for mystical powers. This was how witches were always perceived.

Only it was entirely wrong.

Felix had heard a plethora of names thrown at him all his life. “Witch! Devil-worshiper! Heretic!” The words had been shouted at him from various sources but he knew deep down they were only scared because they didn’t understand.

He was misunderstood, his practices were misunderstood, and magick was misunderstood.

Felix didn’t stand around a cauldron, stirring in weird ingredients like eyes of newts or tiger claws or whatever other things fiction thought sounded bizarre and outlandish. Felix didn’t even own a cauldron. He wasn’t that kind of witch. He focused more on summoning and conjuring. That was his school.

But even the conjuration school of magick had special items he needed in order to do his spells. For that he had to visit Arcana Infinitum. The shop was located in the back corner of the town square, nestled between the ice cream shop and a beautiful and old antique store named Pandora’s Box.

Ignoring the weird looks he got from mothers as they pulled their children along and hurried across the street to avoid him, Felix continued on, the heels of his boots echoing on the stone sidewalk as he walked down past Marino’s and turned the corner.

Arcana Infinitum was a sight for sore eyes after all the glares and stares as Felix had walked from his home he shared with his girlfriend to the town square. He tried to not let it get to him but to see so much hate and disdain in one place made him wonder if moving here to this small town was worth it at all.

Not that he’d ever bring this up with you, his girlfriend.

He crossed the cobbled street and reached the door to the shop and opened it, stepping inside and finding solace in the warm interior. It wasn’t entirely freezing outside but the light mist really made the chilly air bite at his skin, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a bright pink.

“Welcome to-- oh it’s you, Felix!” a voice said and the blond looked up to see one of his favorite shopkeepers smiling at him from the back of the shop. “Hey, Joong,” Felix said as he moved further into the shop, meeting Hongjoong halfway. “What brings you in today?” Hongjoong asked, reaching up to brush some of his bright blue hair out of his eyes.

He wore a simple white button down shirt with bell sleeves cinched at the wrist and black slacks. Over this he wore a simple off white apron. “I’m studying for my exam,” Felix explained, reaching into the small crossbody he carried and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “It’s for my conjuration exam,” he continued, unfolding the sheet and handing it to Hongjoong. “I need these items.”

Felix watched Hongjoong read over the list, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as the older man muttered to himself. “I should have all of this,” Hongjoong finally said. “Look around while I gather your materials.” Felix thanked him as Hongjoong moved to grab a small wire basket and started walking around the shop while he walked over to look at a display of postcards.

Most of them were for the town and all of them were hand drawn. “Who drew these?” Felix called as he looked over the cards. “Oh, that would be Yunho and San,” Hongjoong replied as he moved behind the wooden counter and started searching through the shelves on the back wall.

Felix continued to look around. He had reached a bookcase with old tomes and spellbooks. He ran his fingers over the spines of the books, reading the titles until one caught his eye. A dark purple hardback with gold lettering in Hangul. He grabbed the tome and pulled it from its place. It was heavy as Felix looked over the cover.

“When did this come in?” Felix asked, holding it up to show Hongjoong the cover. “Oh a few days ago!” Hongjoong said as he set the wire basket on the counter and started to add everything up. Felix walked over with the purple book in his hands. “Is it for sale?” he asked softly as he reached the counter.

Hongjoong looked up and smiled before returning to his task. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” he retorted, adding everything up on the calculator before putting in Felix’s discount. “Add this on to my order,” Felix said, setting the book on the counter as Hongjoong started to bag everything.

He picked up the book and put it in the bag and told Felix his total as the latter pulled out his wallet. “Even with the book?” Felix asked. Hongjoong shook his head. “Book is on the house. Think of it as a little slice of home.”

Felix pulled out a few notes and handed them to Hongjoong who promptly entered the amount into the register and put the money away, grabbing Felix’s change. “Tell Y/N I said hey,” Hongjoong said as Felix put his money away and picked up his bag. “I will,” he said with a smile.

Exiting the shop, Felix shifted the bag in his arms as his phone started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and smiled as he answered it. “Hey babe,” he said softly. “Hey,” came your voice. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t his favorite sound in the world. 

“Are you home?” you asked.

“No,” Felix said as he started to walk across the street. “I ran by the shop to get some things for my exam,” he explained. “Hongjoong said to say hi by the way,” he added. You chuckled on the other side. “Of course he did. I’ll say hi next time I see him. Are you heading home now then?” you asked.

Felix could hear voices on your end of the line. “Yeah, hey, what’s that whispering?” he asked as he continued down the sidewalk, offering quiet pardons as he squeezed between other townspeople.

“Oh those are my coworkers and trust me,” you said. “They’re not whispering.” Felix heard a few soft apologies and snorted. “How’s work?” he asked and you sighed. “It’s alright. I wish I was home instead.” Felix laughed as he glanced up and down the street before hurrying across. “Don’t we all.”

You clicked your tongue in feigned annoyance. “You’re one to talk,” you replied. “I have a job!” Felix replied, sounding mildly scandalized. “I just don’t work in an office with a view of the city,” he added. You chuckled and no doubt shook your head. “When are you coming home?” Felix asked as he walked down the street towards your shared home.

“Soon,” you replied. “Cleo has told us she has an end of the day meeting we’re supposed to attend so we’re all in here waiting for that to start. It might run over if she’s any later. So I was wondering if you’d be able to swing by the grocery store and grab the things on the list?”

Felix stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the steps leading up into the house. “I just got home,” he murmured. “I can drop this off and go back,” he added as he started up the steps, sandwiching his phone between his ear and his shoulder and digging for his keys.

“No, it’s okay,” you replied. “I know you’ve got a lot of studying to do. I’ll just stop by on my way home. Dinner will just be a little late tonight,” you replied as Felix unlocked the doors and let himself in. He shut the door before Fanta, his orange familiar cat, couldn’t escape.

“Are you sure?” Felix asked as he walked past the living room and into the kitchen. “Mhm,” you answered. “Cleo’s just entered the room so hopefully this meeting can start and I’ll be out of here sooner than expected. Gotta go,” you whispered. “Okay, I love you,” Felix said quickly. “I love you, too!”

Felix smiled as he hung up the phone and turned to open a cabinet, grabbing one of the glasses and moving to the fridge to get some ice and water. Fanta jumped up onto the counter, letting out a croaky meow as Felix turned to look over his shoulder. “What have I said about jumping onto the counter, Fanta?” The animal let out a small meow before moving and hopping down.

Felix rolled his eyes, sipping on his water and scrolling through his feed. “The world is a crazy place,” Felix started as Fanta walked over to the back door and meowed, pawing at the wood. “You live in a nice warm house. You’re safe here. Why would you want to go outside where you could be killed?” Felix asked, walking over and picking up the cat.

Fanta meowed as Felix cuddled him close. “Oh, you’re so dramatic,” Felix muttered as Fanta struggled to get free before Felix let him hop down. “Fine. I try to show you love and you don’t appreciate it. I’m going to study.”

Felix set his empty glass in the sink and grabbed his purchase from Arcana Infinitum before heading upstairs. He set the bag on his desk and then headed into your shared bedroom and sat on the foot of the bed, reaching down to untie his boots. Had he been home, his mother would have hit him over the head for wearing his shoes all over the house but you didn’t seem to mind.

Once his boots were removed, he started changing into more comfortable clothes, tossing his black jeans and shirt into the hamper and pulling on some gray sweats and an oversized white tee.

Once he was comfortable, Felix returned to his study where he started to unpack the items he’d bought, setting them aside as he did so. He pulled out the purple Korean book of spells and opened it, eyes scanning the pages written entirely in Hangul.

Maybe he’d do a little light reading before studying. He’d gotten the book for free after all. Felix set the book on the chaotic and messy surface of his desk, turning the page, and started reading.

When you arrived home after stopping by the grocery store, it was much later than you liked. The meeting thankfully hadn’t gone on for very long and the bus to your small town on the outskirts of the city didn’t eat too much time either. It was when you arrived at the grocery store to pick up a few things that things went wrong.

As usual, one of the elderly ladies in the town had to stop you and lecture you about the uses of witchcraft and making deals with the devil. You had to explain for what felt like the millionth time that you weren’t the one practicing magick nor were you in the habit of speaking about your boyfriend like that. You reminded them that magick wasn’t harmful. It wasn’t like what the movies portray it as.

One lady in particular had held you up as you tried to check out until you told her to bugger off out of frustration, grabbing your bags and quickly leaving the store with your purchases. The walk back to the house wasn’t long either but it was still late as you let yourself in with your key, careful to make sure Fanta didn’t try another daring escape out the door.

You carried the bags over to the kitchen and started putting the cold items away. You’d picked up another tub of ice cream knowing you’d need some after the week you’d had. Once you had put most of the groceries away, you were working in the pantry when you heard a creak of wood above you.

“Felix?” you called, stopping your movements. When he didn’t respond, you decided to go upstairs and check on him. Climbing the steps one at a time you made your way up and at the landing, turned around the bannister and approached the door to his study.

You knocked softly but when there was no answer, you turned the knob and pushed the door open, peering in to find your boyfriend fast asleep, his head resting on his arms.

You smiled as you pushed the door open fully and stepped into the room. Reaching down, you brushed some of his blond hair back and then your eyes landed on a small strip of paper lying on the book he had open on the desk.

You picked it up and scanned the words curiously. It was in Korean, that much you could tell. Felix had taught you the Korean alphabet and how to pronounce the letters and he had taught you a couple words so you could at least read some things. You recognized one word on the paper but regardless you read the sentence aloud.

“Gajang gip-eun jiog-eseo neoleul bulleonae gyeolsogsikyeo jugessda.”

You shrugged your shoulders and set the paper back down before turning to head back to the door until something caught your eye.The flame of a candle, dancing inside the glass. Stopping in your tracks, you turned back to face his desk and shook your head as you moved to the lit candle on the desk, leaning in to blow out the flame. 

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you not to light candles if you’re going to fall asleep,” you murmured, gently stroking your boyfriend’s hair before exiting the room, closing the door with a click and returning to the kitchen downstairs to start dinner.

It had been a while since you’d made a nice home cooked meal, the two of you had been ordering out lately and you decided to do something nice not only for your hard working boyfriend but for yourself.

You seasoned and prepared the chicken, letting it marinate for thirty minutes as you prepared the vegetables and started your sauce in a pan. Once the skillet was oiled and heated, you added the chicken and let it sizzle for a bit before stirring it and added the veggies.

As you worked, you murmured the phrase you’d read earlier, turning it into a little song as music played in your head. You turned the chicken over again and finally poured the sauce in while some noodles boiled. “Okay, I need actual music now,” you said to yourself pulling your phone from your purse and turning some Mikazuki BIGWAVE on.

Felix awoke with a start, eyes snapping open as he looked around. He sat up, a loose page from his notes sticking to his cheek. He grabbed it and set it back on the desk before looking around. 

The door to the study was cracked open and he could smell something wafting through the air towards him. He looked down at his desk, the purple book lying innocently and looking back at him. Something was different. He noticed a small piece of parchment with Korean written on it.

He picked it up and read the sentence quietly. He didn’t like the words on it and shook his head, tucking the piece of paper away in the back pages of the book before marking his place and shutting the book. He could resume reading it later. He picked up the tome and set it on one of the shelves before getting up and stretching.

He pulled open the door, the smell of dinner getting stronger as he made his way out of the study and down the stairs. “Y/N?” Felix called. “In here!” He followed the sound of your voice and cooking into the kitchen where you looked up and smiled at him. He walked over, planting a kiss on your cheek, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back.

“It smells really good, babe,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It should be ready soon,” you said softly, giggling as he moved to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Mmm, you smell good, too,” he added, pressing a couple soft kisses to the base of your neck. “I’m not for dinner,” you replied. “Hmm, maybe for dessert?” he whispered, sending a chill up your spine.

“Dinner first,” you retorted. “No,” he whined, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Yes,” you said with a laugh. “Dinner first,” you set the spatula down and turned in his hold to face him, bringing your hands up to cup his face. “Then you can help me clean up and get your dessert after,” you added, pressing a kiss to his lips. Felix chased your lips as you pulled back.

“Fine,” he pouted as you turned back to finish dinner, adding the cooked pasta and giving everything a good mix as Felix moved to grab bowls from the cabinet. “There’s garlic bread, too,” you announced as he set the bowls on the counter and then grabbed two plates.

“What is it?” he asked as he moved to stand beside you. “Just a chicken recipe I found on Pinterest,” you replied struggling. “It’s got zucchini, red peppers, a white sauce and then chicken,” you explained as you turned the range off and started to scoop some pasta and chicken up to place in the bowls Felix held.

“Next bowl,” you said as you waited for Felix but he leaned in. “Pay the tax first,” he said, holding back a laugh. You rolled your eyes, kissing him before he moved the other bowl over.

Once the food had been served and you both had glasses of wine, you sat down and started eating. “This is so fucking good,” Felix said, covering his mouth with his hand. “You like it?” you asked, smiling at him. “Yes! I love it,” he replied, taking another bite.

“Good,” you chirped, taking a bite as well. “Neomu masisseo!” you heard your boyfriend say and you smiled.

Felix was placing another forkful of pasta into his mouth when he heard you mutter something under your breath. 

"Neoleul bulleonae gyeolsogsikyeo jugessda." 

He froze in place and slowly turned to face you. You had picked up some noodles and placed them in your mouth, glancing up and smiling at him. He couldn't be sure if he heard you properly.

"What did you say?" he asked softly, making you glance up at him. "Hmm?" you asked quietly. "What did you just say?" Felix asked again. "Neoleul bulleonae gyeolsogsikyeo jugessda," you repeated.

Felix's eyes widened, leaning forward as you continued to recite the evocation he'd seen earlier. "Gajang gip-eun jiog-eseo--"

Felix clamped his hand over your mouth. He shook his head. "Don't," he continued. "Don't finish that."

Your eyes widened comically and you nodded as Felix finally let go and sat back in his chair. “Where did you even learn that?” he asked, watching as a look of confusion crossed your face. “From a paper in your study,” you replied. Felix mentally cursed himself for leaving things out.

He would just have to perform a spell of protection before bed.

“It’s just gibberish, right?” you asked, innocently. Felix forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. 

“Just gibberish.”

After dinner, Felix helped you clean up, washing the dishes and handing them for you to rinse and set aside to dry. His mind was reeling with thoughts of what you might have summoned. He knew that piece of paper was a summoning spell. ‘From the depths of hell,’ he thought to himself. ‘It couldn’t have taken,’ he continued. ‘She only recited the evocation. She didn’t do the entire ritual.’

Once the kitchen was cleaned, you set your gloves on the edge of the sink to let them dry and turned to Felix, smiling at him. “Well,” you started, drawing his attention as he pulled his own gloves off. “You helped me clean up,” you continued. Felix nodded, looking around. “I always do,” he replied.

You raised an eyebrow at his reply. “Don’t you want your dessert now?” you asked, reaching forward to grab one of his hands. Felix’s eyes widened. Of course, how could he have forgotten?

“How about a movie first?” Felix offered. He wasn’t quite in the mood now but with some coaxing, he knew his mood could change quickly. You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, connecting your lips with his. “Fine,” you murmured against his smile. “A movie first, then dessert.”

You pulled him from the kitchen, leading the way into the living room and over to the couch. Felix sat down, grabbing the remote and turned the tv on as you settled in next to him. He flipped through the options, settling on one and starting the film quickly.

It only took a few minutes of your fingers playing with his hair for him to pull you onto his lap, hands on your hips as you grinded on him, moaning into each other’s mouths. “Fuck,” Felix groaned, hand resting on the back of your neck. “You’re so fucking hot,” he moaned as your hips moved, grinding against his erection.

“I need you, Lix,” you whined, hands resting on his shoulders. “You need me, yeah?” he asked, looking up at you through heavy lids. You nodded quickly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Fuck, I better give you what you need then, hadn’t I?”

You scrambled off his lap, taking his hand and pulling your boyfriend up the stairs, heading for the bedroom where you shut the door after him. Felix was on you as soon as the door shut, hands grabbing your hips and guiding you to the bed before he pushed you back onto the mattress, discarding his shirt and climbing on top of you.

“You’ve been locked away in your study so many nights,” you whispered as Felix kissed a path down the side of your neck. “Have I been neglecting you, baby?” he mumbled against your skin.

You nodded, breathing heavily as you felt his hands move to undo your pants. “I’m sorry, angel,” he continued as he started to pull your pants and underwear down, discarding them on the floor before pushing your thighs apart, settling between them on his stomach.

Your walls clenched around nothing as he eyed your glistening sex hungrily, licking his lips before meeting your gaze, his eyes boring into yours.

“Let me make it up to you.”

Felix awoke with a start, sitting up and gasping as he looked around the dark room. Light pattering against the window told Felix that it was raining. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he pulled himself from the tangle of sheets, glancing back at you sleeping peacefully beside him.

Glancing at the clock, the red numbers read three thirty-three. ‘The Witching Hour,’ Felix thought as he slowly got up from the bed, careful to not disturb you. He walked towards the bedroom door, turning the knob slowly and pulling the door open.

The hall outside was dark, the pattering of rain was louder as Felix cautiously stepped out into the corridor, the wood creaking under his bare feet. He stopped just outside the opened bedroom door and looked around, the small plug-in lights creating a line of lights along the corridor floor.

As he started forward towards the stairs, Felix turned his head towards the study. The door was shut firmly as he had left it earlier. He headed down the stairs, looking over the railing into the living room. Upon reaching the landing, he turned and walked into the living room, glancing around.

His eyes strained, trying to see in the low light. He saw nothing out of the ordinary and let out a sigh, now truly wondering what woke him up. He started for the kitchen with the idea of getting a glass of water when he heard a soft creaking to his left. He turned his head quickly, finding the small door under the stairs ajar.

Felix moved to one of the end tables between the sofa and the loveseat, turning on the lamp and adding some illumination to the room. He continued forward slowly, keeping his eye on the door until he reached it. Taking the knob quietly, he pulled the door open and reached inside, pulling the string for the overhead light.

Inside the tiny storage space, nothing was out of the ordinary. Everything seemed to be in place. Perhaps you had gone into this space earlier and didn’t get the door shut completely. Felix tugged the string, throwing the space into darkness before backing up and closing the door, making sure the latch clicked. 

He turned and headed into the kitchen, moving to grab a clean glass and get some ice water. As he was sipping on the water, he heard what sounded like knocking and looked up before moving around the counter and into the living room again. He strained his ears, listening for any sound over the soft pattering of rain on the roof.

He walked over to the door and peered out one of the windows on the side of the frame. He saw nothing and turned on the porch light, still seeing nothing. Shrugging, Felix turned the light off and headed into the kitchen to set his empty glass in the sink before making his way to the stairs.

Just as he was about to take the first step, a series of slow, heavy, and evenly paced knocks rang out from behind him. He froze and turned around to look at the door, his pulse starting to beat more heavily. He moved slowly, walking back to the window and peering out. Through the glass he could see a dark shadow standing on the porch.

He pulled back and stared at the door. ‘Who could it be this late?’ he wondered. Deciding to take another peek, his eyes widened when he saw the figure was gone. ‘I really shouldn’t open the door,’ he told himself. ‘But as long as I keep the outside door shut and locked it should be fine, right?’

He took a deep breath, taking the door knob in one hand as he turned the deadbolt, unlocking it with a click before he turned the knob and pulled open the heavy wooden door. The outside door was locked still as it was when he locked up the house for the night.

Outside the porch was empty, just like it had been the last time he peered outside through the window.  Felix leaned against the door, looking to the sides of the porch the best he could before he let out the breath he was holding. ‘There’s no one here,’ he told himself. “You’re seeing things,” he whispered, taking a step back and closing the door and engaging the lock.

He shook his head, chuckling to himself before starting up the stairs. As he reached the top landing, his smile fell as his eyes landed on the door to his study. The door that he knew had been closed when he went downstairs not twenty minutes ago was now ajar.

Felix glanced towards the bedroom and then back to his study as his feet slowly and quietly carried him forward. He reached the study and carefully pushed the door open, looking inside. The lamp on his desk was on but other than that, nothing seemed to be out of place.

Felix let out an exasperated sigh and stepped into the room and turned off the lamp, throwing the room into darkness. He glanced out the window, doing a double take when he noticed a dark figure standing in the backyard. He rushed to the window but the figure was gone. ‘What is going on with you?’

Felix shook his head and pulled the sheer curtains shut. As he turned back for the door, his breath caught in his throat. He could see a dark figure standing in the corner. His heart rate increased, a cold chill breaking throughout his body and a shiver running up his spine at the sight.

A dark heavy feeling settled in his stomach as his mouth started to run dry. ‘Just ignore it,’ he told himself. ‘It will go away if you ignore it.’ He focused his eyes on the door and started towards it, pretending as if he hadn’t seen the figure. Just as he reached the door, his body betrayed him and his head turned slightly to look at the dark figure which was now next to the door and next to him.

Felix’s lips parted but before he could call out for you, he felt a hand around his neck as the figure grabbed him, lifting him clean off his feet and slamming him against the wall quickly. Felix clawed at the hand around his throat as the figure leaned in, sniffing him before he heard a deep, almost demonic voice say “it’s not you.”

It let go of his neck and Felix fell to his feet, coughing as he reached up to massage his neck. The dark shadow pinned him against the wall, growling dangerously. “Wh-what do you want?” Felix managed to croak out, his voice hoarse and weak. “What do I want?” the figure asked. “I was summoned here.”

Felix’s eyes widened. The incantation, the one he told you was just gibberish. It had brought this? Was it a demon? Before Felix could voice any of his questions, the figure spoke. “I know what you are, witch,” it said. “But I also know you didn’t summon me, so tell me,” the figure continued.

Before it could ask its own question, a voice called out and Felix’s heart dropped into his stomach. “No,” he whispered as the figure turned its head, letting out a chuckle. “You’re not alone,” the demon said. “It must have been her.”

Before Felix could protest, the demon dropped him, throwing him to the floor. Felix looked up but the dark figure was gone. “No,” he said, scrambling up to his feet and rushing out of the study, his feet thudding against the wooden floor as he made for the bedroom.

Upon entering, he looked around wildly as you sat up and turned on the lamp on your bedside table. “What’s wrong?” you asked as Felix looked around and finally moved over to the bed, making sure to check under it before looking in the closet. “Felix?” you asked softly as he moved to look out the window into the backyard but saw nothing.

“Felix, what’s wrong?” you asked again as he moved to the bed and sat back down. “Nothing,” he answered. “I thought I saw something,” he added before waving his hand and pulling the covers back and draping them over his legs. “Let’s just go back to sleep, love,” he murmured.

You nodded, turning off the lamp and settled back under the covers, Felix wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “Goodnight,” you whispered as he placed a couple kisses on your shoulder. “Goodnight, angel,” Felix replied, his voice soft in your ear.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep but Felix awoke with a start, blinking rapidly as he looked around. He was no longer in bed. He was instead sitting in the chair in the corner of the bedroom. 

“What the-” he tried to push himself up but found he couldn’t move. ‘Sleep paralysis?’ he wondered before looking down and saw he was bound, quite literally, to the chair. White strips of cotton tying his wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, looking down and trying in vain to free himself.

“Don’t even bother,” a voice said and Felix looked up. The dark figure was standing in the corner, glowing red eyes looking at him and sending a chill up his spine. “You won’t be getting out until I’m done.” Felix stared back at the creature. “Done? Done with what?” Felix asked.

The figure began to move towards the bed. “Don’t,” Felix warned as the shadow stopped near the bed. Felix watched as the figure reached forward and turned on the bedside lamp near you. 

Expecting to see a grotesque demonic presence, Felix was shocked when a young man, seemingly no older than he, came into view. He had shoulder length blond hair that fell in soft waves, half of it pulled up into a ponytail with strands framing his face. He was tall and slim, wearing a fitted black suit.

“Don’t what?” the man asked, his voice smooth and clear. “Don’t touch her?” he continued. Felix struggled against the bonds holding him in place. “She summoned me, did she not?” he asked as one hand moved to take hold of the covers. “I said don’t!” Felix snapped.

The man looked up, his red irises burning into Felix. He moved around to the foot of the bed, bringing him closer to Felix’s position, and took a seat. “Do you really think you’re in a position to be giving orders?” the man asked, tilting his head to the side. Felix said nothing, only staring back at the demon.

“Don’t touch her,” Felix said again. The figure sighed and quick as a flash, the chair Felix was sitting in was pushed back, the demon had him in another chokehold. “I’ll do whatever I want,” he growled, his voice demonic and low again. “She summoned me. Not you.”

Felix stared up into the red irises. “So if I want to fuck her and make you watch, I will.”

Felix struggled to speak, spitting out the words. “Didn’t know--” The demon let go of his throat, watching as Felix coughed. “She didn’t know what she was doing. I’m the witch here. Not her. She doesn’t know what any of this is.” The demon let the chair fall back onto all four legs as he stepped back, tucking his hands into his pockets. “What’s your name, witch?” he asked.

Felix looked up at him, the position he was in made him feel inferior. Like he was beneath this creature. “Felix,” he finally spat out, the contempt and fury he held for the creature finally surfacing. “Felix,” the creature parroted. “Nice to meet you Felix, I’m Hyunjin.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care what your name is,” he started. “My girlfriend isn’t a witch. She doesn’t understand what she was doing so you need to leave her alone,” he hissed. The demon, Hyunjin, smiled again. “Do you know what she said in that spell?” he asked, cocking his head.

Felix nodded, not needing to think about it.

“Gajang--”

“In English, if you would please, Felix,” Hyunjin interrupted, the smirk on his face never faltering.

Felix glared at the demon, mustering as much hatred as he could.

“I summon you from the depths of hell and likewise bind you to me,” Felix answered finally.

“Exactly,” Hyunjin replied. “But she didn’t know!” Felix countered as the demon moved from the foot of the bed. “She was just reading it! She thought it was gibberish!”

Hyunjin turned to look at Felix, now standing beside your sleeping form. “Gibberish? How could she possibly think it was gibberish?” he asked. “Because she doesn’t understand Korean. She can speak the words and read them but she doesn’t know what they mean unless I tell her,” Felix explained as Hyunjin walked back over. 

“Are you being facetious?” the demon asked. Felix shook his head vigorously.

“I’m not.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh and stood up straight. “Regardless,” he started. “I was summoned. I have to complete the ritual.” Felix struggled against his restraints as the demon moved to your side of the bed. “Stop it please! Stop!” Felix pleaded. Hyunjin held up his hand.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “You’ll wake her.” ‘That’s it! Wake her up!’ 

Felix opened his mouth to call out to you. To wake you up but Hyunjin was on him in seconds, taking Felix’s chin in his hand. “Do it and I’ll gut you then I’ll snap her neck” he warned his voice deep and demonic. Felix’s eyes widened and he nodded silently.

Hyunjin let go of Felix and returned to the bed, sitting beside your sleeping form once again. “Y/N,” he said softly. Felix watched in horror as the demon gently brushed his fingers along your arm. “Y/N, sweetheart,” he continued and it dawned on Felix that Hyunjin was speaking in his voice. Felix’s own voice was coming out of the demon.

You murmured in your sleep, rolling onto your back, one hand resting on your stomach and the other falling onto Felix’s empty space. “Y/N,” Hyunjin repeated in Felix’s stolen voice. “Baby.” Felix felt his blood boil as Hyunjin’s hand cupped your cheek. “Get your hands off of her!” Felix snapped.

Hyunjin looked up, red irises glowing as he glared at Felix. “I warned you once,” he said darkly. “Don’t make me do it again.” Felix felt a cold shiver run up his spine. Something in the demon’s voice made him freeze up. “I won’t hesitate to snap her neck,” he threatened.

“So stop talking.”

Felix nodded, looking from the demon’s eyes to your sleeping form.

You tried to open your eyes but your lids were too heavy. You weren’t sure what woke you until you felt a hand on your cheek. “Y/N?” you heard Felix’s voice. “Y/N, sweetheart,” he said again. You murmured, uncertain of the words leaving your lips. You heard a chuckle. “Shh,” you heard Felix say again.

“Felix,” you finally whined as you felt the sheets being pulled back. “I’m right here,” you heard him whisper, feeling his hand moving up your thigh to your hip, pushing your sleep shirt up past your hip. “Mmh, Felix,” you mumbled as his hand moved back down, dipping between your thighs.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, back arching as your fingers dug into the sheets. “Shh,” your boyfriend whispered again. “Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers push your panties aside, teasing your entrance, parting your lips and finding your clit. You let out a moan as he drew slow circles on your clit. “That’s it,” you heard him coo. “Part your legs for me.” You did as he asked, spreading your thighs. “Good girl,” you heard him purr. “So good for me. So obedient.”

Your lips parted in a moan as you felt his fingers sink into your heat. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, slowly pumping his fingers in an out of your cunt. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” you heard him whisper in your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. “You want that?” he asked, chuckling softly as your walls clenched around his fingers. “Yes,” you breathed, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

You felt his lips connect with yours, moaning into his mouth as you felt his fingers curl upwards. “F-Felix,” you moaned, one of your hands moving to grab his wrist as he sped up his movements, thumb rubbing against your clit in time with the thrust and curl of his fingers inside you. “I’m gonna--” you gasped, thighs twitching as your orgasm approached.

“I know,” he replied. “So do it,” you heard your boyfriend groan. “Cum for me, baby girl. Come on my fingers.” 

Your back arched, a high pitched moan leaving your lips as you came around your boyfriend’s fingers. You felt his fingers slow to a halt before he carefully removed them, leaving your walls clenching around nothing. “Good girl,” you heard his voice.

You felt the bed shift as he moved. “Lix?” you called out, eyes fluttering to open. You felt his breath hot against your core. “I’m right here, baby,” he replied, hands resting on your hips. “Keep those pretty thighs open for me.”

You relaxed, head falling back against the pillows as your eyes struggled to stay open. You let out a whimper as you felt his tongue against your clit, slow deliberate licks until his lips connected with your clit, softly suckling, teasing occasionally with his tongue. 

Your body shuddered, sensitive after your first intense orgasm. The slight burn only added to the pleasure as your boyfriend continued to toy with your clit, bringing you to the brink only to pull back at the last second, leaving you teetering on the edge.

“Felix, please,” you whined. “Please let me cum.” 

You felt him chuckle against you. “Only because you asked so nicely, baby,” he murmured. Your hand moved, fingers threading through his hair as his tongue moved against your clit, each flick bringing you closer and closer until you finally came with a mewl, thighs threatening to close on your boyfriend’s head, but he managed to keep them open, allowing you to ride out your high until your body shuddered from sensitivity.

“Lixie, please,” you whined. You felt him press light kisses along the inside of your thighs, giggling when he playfully nipped at your skin. “That tickles,” you breathed. You felt the bed shift, Felix kissing up your hip, playfully sinking his teeth into your skin before continuing kissing up your body and the side of your neck. “God you’re so pretty,” you heard him whisper in your ear.

“Felix,” you giggled as his hands skimmed over your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You felt him smile against the skin of your cheek, breath fanning over your ear. “Crazy thing actually,” he said softly. 

“I’m not Felix.”

Your eyes snapped open. The first thing to greet you was the red lighting of the room. It was your room but it also wasn’t. You gasped as the man on top of you lifted his head and you finally got a look at his face. He was handsome, extremely so with plush peach lips and shoulder length blond hair. His red irises burned into your eyes and you found it hard to look away.

“Hello there,” he said, his voice no longer masked by your boyfriend’s voice. “What the f--” you started but he pressed a finger to your lips, effectively silencing you. “Shh,” he said softly. He pulled his hand back, replacing it with his lips. You pulled back. “What’s going on?” you asked.

“Who are you?”

He smiled, tilting his head as he studied your face, before cupping your cheek. “I’m Hyunjin,” he answered, thumb stroking your cheek. “Where am I?” you asked, trying to sit up but his weight prevented you from moving. “You’re in your bed,” he replied. 

He turned his head to the side and you followed his line of sight where you saw a floor to ceiling mirror taking up most of the wall beside your closet. That definitely wasn’t in your room.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the mirror. The mirror clearly wasn’t reflecting what was happening around you. Instead, it was almost like a window to your room where you saw yourself sleeping peacefully in your bed, Felix beside you.

You turned your head back to look up at Hyunjin. “Is this a dream?” you asked and Hyunjin nodded slowly. “It is,” he confirmed before leaning down, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Doesn’t that make me a bad person? Dreaming about another man?” you asked, feeling your breath catch in your throat.

Hyunjin’s free hand had slipped between your bodies and was slowly dragging up and down your slit. “No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I’m merely a figment of your imagination, Y/N,” he explained. “When you wake up, you won’t even remember this.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt Hyunjin’s fingers push into your cunt again, lips parting as you moaned. “Oh f-fuuuck,” you moaned, back arching. Hyunjin chuckled, dipping his head down to kiss down the side of your neck. “That’s it, pretty girl,” Hyunjin whispered in your ear.

“Don’t worry about anything else. Just listen to the sound of my voice.”

Felix glared at the demon hovering over you, his head was ducked, lips near your ear as he whispered. You were stirring in your sleep, whimpers and moans leaving your lips despite his hand not even leaving your cheek. “What are you doing to her?” Felix asked softly, knowing full well the demon could hear him.

Hyunjin pulled back and turned his head to look at him, his red irises glowing still.

“I can’t just physically take her,” Hyunjin explained. “I have to infiltrate her dreams first,” he added.

“Come on, Lix,” Hyunjin said with a smirk and Felix narrowed his eyes. “You’re a witch but you know all of this. This is amateur stuff.” Felix gritted his teeth as Hyunjin turned his attention back to you as you whispered a word. Felix felt his stomach drop.

You had whispered a name. Hyunjin’s name.

Felix felt a pang. A stab of betrayal but he couldn’t focus on that. He knew you were in some kind of trance. It wasn’t your fault.

“Perfect,” the demon said softly and moved his hand to grab the covers, pulling them back. “Don’t touch her, please,” Felix pleaded. Hyunjin ignored him, pulling the covers down to the foot of the bed. “Don’t touch her!” Felix hissed as Hyunjin slowly ran his hand up your leg.

“What are you gonna do?” Hyunjin asked, turning to look at Felix, a smirk on his lips. 

Felix struggled against his bonds as Hyunjin moved slowly, unbuttoning his top and shrugging it off. His skin seemed to have an aura to it and he glowed. Hyunjin’s hand moved to remove your shorts, pulling your underwear with them. “Please,” Felix begged, feeling his eyes burn as tears started to form.

Hyunjin scoffed as he discarded your clothes, pushing the hem of your shirt up to expose your chest adorned in soft pink lace that left little to the imagination. “She wear this specifically for you?” Hyunjin asked, turning to lock eyes with Felix who tried to free his hands.

His eyes widened as the sound of fabric tearing met his ears. Hyunjin had ripped the bralette down the center, exposing your breast. “Stop, please!” Felix sobbed, pulling violently at his bonds, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled. He heard Hyunjin click his tongue. 

“Now, now,” the demon said mockingly. “You’re going to miss it if you aren’t watching.”

Felix opened his eyes to glare at the demon, his lashes wet with tears that had finally spilled, staining his red cheeks.

Hyunjin’s smirk widened. “Great. Now that I have your attention,” he said as he undid his belt and pulled it free, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter, hands moving to undo the button and zipper of his pants.

“Enjoy the show.”

“This feels so wrong,” you whispered as Hyunjin kissed down the valley of your chest. “Oh,” he said softly against your skin. “But it’s not real,” he reminded you. You let out a sigh, moaning as he sank his teeth into your skin. “Then why does it feel so real?” you gasped as he kissed his way back to your lips.

“Are you telling me you���ve never had dreams that felt real before?” he mused, not giving you a chance to answer as he took your lips in a messy, wet kiss, tongue moving against yours languidly. “No, I have,” you replied when he pulled away. “But they’ve never felt like this.”

Hyunjin chuckled, pushing his long tresses from his face as he knelt between your thighs. You hadn’t had the chance to notice until now that he was entirely nude. Your eyes traveled down his chest, taking note of his slim but toned body already glistening with a layer of sweat.

Before your eyes could continue past his navel, he clicked his tongue, almost in disapproval and you glanced back up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” he asked teasingly. 

You felt your cheeks burn under his heated gaze as he chuckled, his hand moving to push your knees further apart, spreading you more for him. You glanced quickly down, your own body obscuring your view of his cock as he guided the tip to your entrance.

“And you promise this isn’t real?” you asked softly, causing him to look up from where your bodies were about to connect. He gave you a breathtaking smile and nodded. “I promise,” he replied softly.

“None of this is real,” he added before slowly pushing into you. You let out a gasp as his length glided easily into you, stretching you open yet you felt no pain. No sting that usually accompanied the stretch.

It was entirely unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time. It was different from how Felix felt. Hyunjin was bigger, not just in stature. “Relax,” Hyunjin whispered, moving one of his hands to your thigh, rubbing soothingly. “That’s it” he continued as he glided further.

“Relax and let me in.”

“So f-full,” you murmured as you felt Hyunjin bottom out. He chuckled, his hand moving from your hip up to gently grope your chest. Your walls fluttered around his cock, gripping him tightly. “Such a responsive slut,” he chuckled and you moaned loudly. 

Hyunjin gave you a couple slow thrusts, allowing you to feel every curve and ridge of his cock before he set a steady pace, pumping in and out of you at a torturously slow speed.

“Faster,” you gasped as you felt his thumb brush over your nipple. “Faster?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Please,” you pleaded. “Want more. Need more.”

Hyunjin chuckled, his hand moving back down to your waist. “If that’s what you want,” he replied, picking up the pace, his hips hitting yours with each thrust.

Your back arched off the mattress, moaning wantonly. It wasn’t like you shared any walls with any neighbors and regardless, this was a dream anyway.

Felix watched Hyunjin parted your thighs. From his position, he couldn’t see much but the demon had you completely naked and spread out before him.

“Please,” Felix sobbed softly as he turned his gaze away. He could hear your soft moans and the thought of watching another man have you the way he had you, the thought of another man making love to you, had his stomach churning.

“You’re going to want to watch this,” Hyunjin called but Felix shook his head, refusing to look.

“Watch this or I’ll snap her neck,” the demon snapped, his deep gravelly voice enough to force Felix to look back. He could tell Hyunjin had bottomed out, cock shoved inside you. “Just stop please!” Felix cried.

“Why won’t you just leave us alone?”

The demon chuckled but punctuated it with a groan as he pulled back, hips snapping forward and driving his cock back into your walls. You let out a moan, eyes still shut as Hyunjin set a steady pace.

“She gave me permission, you know,” he heard the demon say and Felix glared at Hyunjin. 

“She’s asleep. How can she consent to this?” he growled, anger flooding his senses. Hyunjin chuckled, his hands moving to your hips and holding you in place as he continued you fucked you against the mattress.

“You like that, Y/N?” he asked, addressing you directly.

You moaned in response. “Words, sweetheart,” Hyunjin said, his voice steady and calm despite the way his hips moved. “Y-yes,” you choked out. Felix’s heart skipped a beat. ‘It’s not real. He has her under some sort of spell. She doesn’t know what’s going on!’ he told himself.

“She’s really enjoying herself,” Hyunjin said, addressing Felix now.

“Such a good little slut,” Hyunjin scoffed, giving you a harsh thrust, making you cry out. “Don’t hurt her!” Felix sobbed. “Please. Just… don’t hurt her,” he repeated. The demon chuckled lowly but said nothing else, slowing his thrusts to a roll. Your moans came from the back of your throat, deep and almost guttural.

“Hyun-Hyunjin!” you gasped. Hearing you say another man’s name had Felix crying harder. He felt entirely powerless. He could do nothing but sit there and wait for the demon to finish having its way with you and leave. He could do nothing but watch.

He hated the demon. He hated Hyunjin. And most of all, he hated himself for bringing that book into the house. Had he known, he never would have brought it in. He would have left it in Hongjoong’s shop for eternity. When everything was said in done, he would have to return the book to the shop in the morning.

“Oh fuck,” he heard Hyunjin growl. “She’s so fucking tight,” he continued. “Are you even fucking her properly?” Hyunjin scoffed, his voice strained. Felix felt anger and jealousy bubble up in his chest.

How dare he imply Felix didn’t satisfy you. The two of you had always been honest and communicated about your sexual needs with one another and never once had you expressed anything other than satisfaction. You often praised his performance. 

You let out a small moan, almost a whimper of pleasure and it made Felix’s heart sink in his chest. He hung his head, silent tears falling from his eyes onto the material of his gray sweats. ‘Please let this end.’

“Fuck you feel so good,” Hyunjin murmured, slowing his hips and pulling from you. Letting out a whine, you reached for him, protesting as you felt him leaving your walls empty and aching for his cock to return. “Come here,” he said softly, grabbing your arm and gently but firmly pulling you up and flipping you over onto your stomach, facing the mirror.

He was behind you, pushing your knees apart with his own and guiding the head of his cock back to your waiting hole. You moaned as he slipped back in easily, his hips meeting your ass as he buried himself balls deep inside you. “Hyunjin,” you gasped.

He leaned over your back, keeping himself propped up as he wrapped his arm around your chest and resumed thrusting into you, the new angle allowing his cock to hit deeper and making you cry out. “Oh sweetheart,” he panted in your ear. “I’m gonna have you screaming by the end of the night,” he murmured before throwing all caution out the window. 

Your fingers dug into the sheets under you as he pounded into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room but not covering the sounds of your whimpers and moans.

Your mind went blank, almost numb as all thoughts left your mind and the only thing you could focus on was the mounting pleasure in the pit of your stomach and the flexing of Hyunjin’s muscles around you as he tightened his hold on you, hips slamming against your ass. Your moans and cries growing in pitch. 

“That’s it,” Hyunjin grunted in your ear, his voice dropping an octave. “Scream for me. Say my name.”

“H-Hyunjin,” you sobbed, your body writhing under him from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins. “Louder,” he ordered. “Scream it.” You cried out his name as he rammed all of his length into you at once, driving the head of his cock as far as he could and you swore you felt it in your stomach. ‘Is it bigger than it was a minute ago?’ You were sure he wasn’t that big before.

“What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

You moaned, head lolling as he thrust into you harder. “Am I fucking you that good? Has your mind gone completely blank?” You moaned in response, eyes fluttering shut as your walls spasmed around his cock, gripping him tightly.

“Fuck, keep squeezing my cock like that and I’ll cum,” Hyunjin growled in your ear. “You want that, don’t you? Want me to fill this pretty cunt with my cum.” Your walls clenched around his cock again and his hand moved up, taking your jaw in his hand. 

“Open your eyes, slut,” he growled. Your eyes fluttered open. The reflection in the mirror had changed. You were looking at yourself. Facing yourself with Hyunjin behind you, his red irises glowing in the dark and burning into yours.

His appearance in the mirror had changed slightly. Half of his blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail and two black horns were protruding from his forehead, curving back over his head and the tips curling inward on themselves. Your eyes widened. What the fuck were you seeing? Was this still a dream or was this real? The line between dream and reality had blurred and you couldn’t tell anymore.

“What are--” Hyunjin tightened his grip, holding your jaw in place. His sharp, pointed nails digging slightly into your skin. “Stop talking,” he growled. “Just lay there and take it like the whore you are.” Your walls clenched around his cock at the degrading name he hurled at you.

“Look at you,” he chuckled lowly. “So desperate to get fucked you’d let any man have you, isn’t that right?” he asked. ‘No,’ you thought. ‘That isn’t true.’ The truth was that you only wanted Felix. You only wanted your boyfriend. Even with this stranger fucking you in your dreams, you wanted Felix.

“No,” you answered, trying to shake your head but the demon’s grip was too strong. “I wasn’t asking you, slut,” he scoffed. You met his burning gaze in the mirror. ‘Not asking me?’ you wondered. ‘Who could he possibly be talking to?’ It was then you noticed something else just on the edge of the reflection.

A body sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. Your eyes widened. ‘Felix?’ It was indeed your boyfriend. His head hung in shame, wrists bound to the arms of the chair and his ankles likewise bound to the legs of the chair. “F-Fe-lix?” you stammered. At the sound of your voice, your boyfriend raised his head, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“No,” Hyunjin growled. With one final thrust, your eyes rolled back as your orgasm hit you. You felt Hyunjin tense on top of you, his own orgasm washing over him as he released inside you. You could feel the warm gush of cum enter your cunt and the stalling of Hyunjin’s hips as he buried his cock inside you before everything went black.

Felix woke with a start, sitting up and crying out.

It was morning. He looked around quickly, eyes scanning the room but he saw no sign of the demon Hyunjin nor did he see any sign of you. He glanced down and noticed he was naked. He looked around for his clothes. 

‘What the fuck happened last night?’ he wondered as he turned, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he covered his face with his hands. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, not enough to hurt but enough that the blackness of his vision was littered with stars.

He finally pulled his hands from his face and sat up straight, inhaling deeply before letting it out. His clothes were on the floor beside the bed and he snatched them quickly, pulling on his sweats and then the shirt. He made his way over to the door, turning the knob and opening the door.

He was greeted by the sound of sizzling and the smell of bacon. He allowed his feet to carry him into the hall and to the top of the stairs where he heard soft voices and your light laughter. He hurried down the steps and turned around the railing to enter the living room.

In the kitchen, you stood at the range, cooking breakfast. You looked up, smiling as you met his gaze.

“Well good morning, sunshine,” you said as he stood in the doorway. “We have a visitor,” you continued, nodding towards a figure sitting at the table, hidden from Felix’s view with a newspaper. Felix murmured an apology as he walked into the kitchen, scratching the back of his head as he moved around the counter and over to where you stood, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Morning,” he murmured and moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, preparing it the way he liked before he sat at the table across from the figure. You moved to set a plate of food in front of Felix, a spatula in one hand and donning your pink apron. 

“You didn’t tell me your cousin was coming to visit,” you said, lighting patting his shoulder as Felix picked up his fork. His eyes widened as you turned away and headed back into the kitchen. Felix turned his gaze from your figure to the newspaper before him. ‘I don’t have a cousin.’

You prepared another plate and walked over to set it in front of the guest. “Oh,” he said with a chuckle. “Thank you,” he added in an all too familiar voice.

A voice Felix thought had been part of the horrible nightmare he’d experienced.

He watched in horror as the newspaper lowered and the familiar face of Hyunjin appeared with a smile. “It’s just like Felix to forget to mention me,” he said as you moved back to load the last plate and take a seat between Felix and the demon now sitting at his dinner table, enjoying a breakfast cooked by you, his loving girlfriend.

How did you not recognize Hyunjin after last night? Did you forget everything? If the oblivious smile on your lips was anything to go by, Felix could assume you’d forgotten the events of last night.

“We had a rough night last night,” you said, turning your gaze on your boyfriend and smiling at him sweetly. “I hope he wasn’t too rough on you,” Hyunjin joked and Felix watched the way you inhaled a sip of your water and started coughing. 

Before he could react, Felix watched with a mix of anger and jealousy as Hyunjin leaned forward and patted your back firmly, a look of concern crossing his features. “Are you alright, Y/N?” he asked. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “That was inappropriate of me.” You shook your head, taking another sip of water. “No, it’s okay,” you said, waving your hand.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Felix’s knuckles turned white, his grip on his fork handle tight as he tried to decide whether he should eat or stab Hyunjin in the neck. “I’m also sorry for dropping in like this,” Hyunjin explained. “Unannounced. It’s just that I’m passing through and haven't seen my dear cousin in so long.” Felix narrowed his eyes at the demon, wanting to smack that smug grin off his face.

You smiled kindly at Hyunjin. “Well you’re more than welcome to stay with us for a few days,” you offered and Felix felt his heart sink, his stomach dropping simultaneously as he looked from you to Hyunjin who was already looking at Felix. “That’s so kind of you,” Hyunjin replied, staring directly at Felix, his red irises burning into the latter’s eyes, holding his gaze.

“I think I’m really going to enjoy your hospitality.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[jolalibrary]

ii. the borrowing of honey

joel miller x f!reader | chapter two of honey stained hands

Chapter summary: lifting his chin, he finds you already watching him. “What’d y’like me to call you?” Your hands pause, flour clinging to your palms, your hands. “I like that you call me Honey, Miller.”

wordcount: 3.9k warnings: no physical descriptions. joel calls you honey (ellie calls you bee - because you look after the bees). no use of y/n. typical canon-angst. brief mentions of reader handling some raiders (murder couple yesss). my spelling. joel trying to fit in and be good for ellie. an: doesn't matter how much time passes, i still get so nervous when it comes to sharing joel.

Your name is present on the tip of his tongue whenever he sees you.

It’s there when he watches you walk by; when he finds you in the centre of the sheep pen, Ellie and other kids circling you, listening attentively.

For Joel, what he likes the most, is the teeth showing when Ellie grins, when she moves closer to you, when it’s clear in the way her arms aren’t folded anymore, that she trusts you—this person, this neighbour of theirs.

Against all odds, he has also found your name coming to him with ease when he opens his door to you, the chill of the outside air mixing with the warmth of his home.

Your appearance, as always, knocking him off balance, especially when he spots that apron again—flecks of flour, a stripe of it against your cheek.

You don’t happen to have any honey, do you, neighbour?

From morning to night, it’s there, ready—hanging on the tip of his tongue.

He swears it’s as though your name has been scratched into him, etched into some space he hadn’t known was still there, existing, being.

A pull within him.

One that led him to your door the following day, a book in hand—one you’d lent Ellie and had been meaning to return—as he found you baking. All smooth movements, unbothered by him stopping by as you combined ingredients with your hands.

Hands he was unsure how they’d made it here. A question, that circles his brain in constant whirrs.

Because, until the scent of honey hit his nose, Joel wasn’t sure you could appear any sweeter.

“What y’baking?” he’d asked, nodding to the jar of honey open beside you—the one he’d given the day prior, the label scratched from his thumb picking at it as the two of you idly chatted. Talks of the day, whether he’d had any more run-ins with the animals.

Your lip tugged into your cheek, pausing in your crumbling to wipe your forearm across your brow. “Shortbread—but it’s only my third time making it.”

“Three times more than me.”

Snorting, you grinned. Large, unfazed—as though the world had never ended for you. “When you’re done fixing fences and homes, I can teach you.”

“Not sure I can learn much, honey.”

“I think you sell yourself short.”

Smirking, he nodded, mumbling a funny as he continued to watch, and admire. Paying attention to how your hands moved, how they rolled whatever you were making inside the bowl before you held up your dough.

You hadn’t shared much, just that you had learnt to bake when you were younger—something you’d begin doing when you couldn’t sleep. How the honey had been an easy (in terms of sourcing) replacement for sugar. That, you’d amassed too much once, so you shared your goods, left treats at the Tipsy Bison, took some to the shops that could spare some cheering up.

Joel didn’t share much either, just nodded to the questions you asked, whether he’d travelled far, whether he liked fixing porches and whether it was true a sheep had tried to eat his lace.

The main things that Joel learnt, was that you were too good for a person like him.

A person maybe years and years ago he’d have been able to entertain with witty stories and charisma. But both were few and far between now. That however you’d survived, however you’d made it here, had been likely on luck and not because you, like him—and likely others—had found themselves in the shadows of who they once were.

Then, he saw a different side.

Your name almost hangs from his lips when he watches you dismount weakly, almost stumbling—falling before you catch yourself.

There are snowflakes in your hair. Ellie had said the weather is ‘all fucked. Now, he can see it for himself. How drops from the clouds had clustered, clung to strands, it almost making you look innocent—like the version of you Joel had sculpted in his mind.

That is except for the scarlet splattered across your clothes and face—chunks of something mattered in your hair. It’s sticky, that much he can tell. It catches the sun's rays, reflecting across the parts that haven’t dried. Lit up further by the wild look in your eyes, the one that makes him realise, that for all your sweetness, there’s something uncaged inside you. A look, that is both a mix of haunting and adrenaline, thrumming in the depths where he’s usually basked in goodness.

The earlier thought, the one which had been irking him—festering in the back of his mind—wondering how something so kind had managed to survive, is now answered. It is on display, proudly there for him to see. You’d done well to drill it down, hide it deep inside of you, conceal it, but it was bellowing now, hammering its fists on your chest, all proud to be out, breathing, living.

Because you disguise it too, the monster. Thing so many of the people around the two of you aren’t. But a beast recognises another—and Joel sees yours.

There’s no mask or sheet big enough to hide it now. No way he can’t see where it’s stitched itself to the person you were before civilisation snapped in two and hell poured out from the core.

It’s that, he reasons, as to why he steps closer—tries to stabilise, soothe. Even if your body is calm, barely a shake in sight—no infliction as others come to your ‘aid’ that anything is even wrong—less so when the questions begin to rise.

You—a clever thing—wait until Tommy arrives. Letting him, and only him—guide you, lead you. Those who need to, follow, and Joel finds his feet carry him too. Joel finding a spot, remaining stood, just watching from the corner as you begin to share what had happened on patrol.

Your report is clinical, stiff. All to the point.

You speak it as though you were itemising, giving a list, and he suspects it isn’t because it’s a coping mechanism. It sounds normal from your tongue, loss—death. It’s all a matter of fact, with no emotion—no semblance of kindness or grief as you describe how your patrol partner was gutted in front of you. How they talked about you, not realising, not knowing…

He listens as your voice trails off then. Knowing, more than many of those who have been comfortable here for too long, what it is you’d left unsaid.

Then, you’d added Raiders. You chin lifting, eyes cold, unbothered, adding, low-level ones—as if there are grades to this shit.

“Do we need to send others out to deal with them?”

A valid question, asked by someone Joel has no fucking clue what his name is.

Instead of replying, your eyes flick to his. A momentary hold, a prolonged stare. It doesn’t claw at him to steal his breath or dig in to take a swipe at the fractured parts of him. It is just a stare—an almost cold one—as though he could have been replaced by anyone else in the room, and it would have been the same.

But you sought him out. You looked for him—stamping the answer into him. The one you say in a second or two, but makes him body relax before the rest of them can think of doing as much.

Because Joel knows this is you showing him who you are, the monster unwilling to be caged—the demon inside of you still breathing, snorting and spitting smoke.

“No,” you say, devoid of emotion. “I sorted it.”

Somehow, even after spending the night watching you bake, he doesn't doubt that for a second.

He knows something shifted, changed, the day after your patrol.

Something ebbing, flowing—commutated in the way he finds your eyes even through a sea of people. Mostly, he discovers that he doesn’t hate it when you find yourself beside him, sun in his eyes making him squint, you leaning close by as he repairs whatever is on the agenda.

The times begin to bleed into one. Something he’s distantly aware means something—even without Ellie pointing it out.

Because even she knows you, more than bits and bobs—more than someone who teaches them things. But intimately. You, who the kids have dubbed Bee likely due to the bees you’re often around and the honey that you tend to. Something that makes him smirk, a thing he struggles to hide.

He knows things have changed. Had known it the moment you stood giving a detailed account—letting another man’s blood dry on your face—that he had misunderstood you. Joel had made an assumption based on those he’d come across before, kind things—soft, pliable souls.

Now, he couldn't unsee the fire. The ferocious thing inside of you that you stuffed away and hid behind baking and tending to fucking bees.

“Didn’t realise you had access to all the honey, honey.” “You trying to flirt with me, Miller?” “No jus’… trying to figure out why you needed my honey.” “Maybe I thought yours would taste better.”

He was aware the idle chatter had turned flirty—more tinged in power, dominance. Who could make the other uncomfortable, snap or make the move first. Each day, the answer was different—sometimes him, sometimes you, oftentimes both.

Joel was old, worn—aching all over—but he didn’t like the idea of bowing, not after all he’d done to get here to begin with.

“I think you’re softening to me, Miller.” “You’re just my neighbour.” “Yeah, yeah. That’s what it is.”

A part of him reasons that he goes to the Bison to see if you’re okay, spotting you in the corner, at an empty table—a book open in your hands before you nod at him to join you. You tell him, quickly, he doesn’t have to make conversation, turning your attention back to the book, just no point sitting by yourself being ogled at.

Joel found he did talk.

First, about the book in your hand, and then questions about other things—the two of you floating them back and forth. Nothing major, nothing too deep. Enough to spark a smile or a laugh here or there.

No more pages of your book were read, not even as you eventually closed it—bidding him goodnight. He’d almost let you walk home alone, almost. A sudden emotion flared in him as he downed the drink and hurried after you.

Knowing you were safe mattered.

He repeated the sentiment over and over as though it was the only reason—or, better yet, the only one he wanted to believe, especially when the two of you stopped at the steps of your porch.

A goodnight rises, sitting on his tongue, but it never forms. Your eyes stare at him, shimmering, but you blink it away and replace it with a smirk. Because he’s sure if you were any other woman, you’d be jingling your keys and sending him all the signs. But you’re not like those women.

It’s the reason you’re the only one he doesn’t want to roll his eyes at when you speak.

“I’m not someone you should want to be more than friends with, Miller,” you say gently, shifting the book over your front.

“That so?”

Nodding, you flash him one of your usual smiles, dropping your eyes to the floor. “Yeah, I bite.”

Joel tells himself there’s plenty to do when he’s alone.

He can read—learn about space, study carpentry, maybe even just be, relax. He could pick at guitar strings until chords and melodies came back to him.

Instead, he finds himself in front of your door, knuckles out, hammering away at the wood until he hears you shouting for him to come in.

Fuck. The sight of you knocks into him, more prominent this time—more air stolen than just a gasp. Finding you hidden behind your kitchen counter, lips spreading into a smirk, he wants nothing more than to rid.

Powder streaking your cheek, your face free except for it—all bare, natural—the strap of your bra having fallen, all black—lace. The rest of it is hidden beneath a white vest top, your apron shielding the rest of your attire except your bare legs. Bruised, healed scars and thick woollen socks.

“You here to fix somethin’?”

He shouldn’t feel so much from just a smirk, but his mouth is dry, eyes glazing up and down your frame as you lick your lips.

“Or you here to see something?”

Lingering, he digs his hands into his jacket pockets, finding the usual leaning post of your doorframe—watching, secretly admiring but not admiring.

“Your silence doesn’t intimate me, Joel. If anything, it just allows me to talk more.”

Snorting, he shakes his head. “S’not what I’m doing.”

You stop mixing, hands hovering over the bowl, eyes narrowing, assessing, but smiling. “Right. Of course.”

He doesn’t like it. The tone. The way you let each letter fall from your tongue, laced in something he can’t quite work out. So, he steps closer, boots booming as he moves more into the kitchen.

“Whatever errand Tommy has you on, I’m fine. It’s only me here now, anyway.”

He nods. “Y’have someone else here then? Before.”

Before, even he hears how it moves around the room, pulsating, thickening. Your eyes drop back to the bowl, moving ingredients and making flour dust tinge in the air.

“A while ago, yes.”

For you, it’s curt—sharp. Another notch rallied against the evidence that sweet and fucking kind wasn't all there was to you.

Then you lift your eyes, devoid of all he’s used to in them. “I don’t need anything fixing, Joel.”

He stands. Loiters. A part of him wondering what you mean by fixing, because he suspects you don’t mean furniture, porches and doors. He suspects there’s more ravelled inside of you, a thing he wants to tug on, yank at—let it unspool out until he can digest it all, and consider, just maybe, if he can unspool his out too.

It’s why he’s unwilling to leave, more out of sheer stubbornness because, in truth, you’re the only one he doesn’t despise talking to. One of the few who don’t look at him with questions, with a scowl. A scarlet letter stitched into him, sewn by the things he’s done to breathe and survive.

So, he remains. Watching as your movements become more erratic, more charged. Your anger ploughed into the dough, it forming, thickening at your fingers as though your whispered hissed sweats were like enchantments getting it to form.

“No good comes from staying, Miller.”

He lifts his chin, brow raising. “That so?”

Nodding, you lightly smirk. “Yeah. Because then you’ll realise I’m not all that to be around, and it’ll mean you have to talk to another human.”

Moving to your side of the counter, he stares at the contents of the bowl. “Y’not too bad to be around.”

“Fuck, you flatter me, Joel.”

It’s there again. That sparkle, the shimmer. The glint in your eye that shoots down to his cock, the same one from the porch. The one he sees when he passes you in the street, and you tell him he’s looking good—

“Why d'the kids call you Bee?”

“Because I didn’t like that they called me miss, and you know, I’m often with the bees.”

Something uncurls inside of him—a fire partially ignoring, a fuse switched. A thing which made him feel both young and old all at once as he leaned, the scent of you mixed with whatever you were baking, all intoxicating—enough to burn the odour of decomposition from his memory for life. A smell that is so reminiscent of you, so genuine and real.

Lifting his chin, he finds you already watching him. “What’d y’like me to call you?”

Your hands pause, flour clinging to your palms, your hands. “I like that you call me Honey, Miller.”

Nodding, he smiles, folding his arms as he leans again—just like he had done over a week ago. “Honey, it is.”

He doesn’t just see you around, he begins to see you in his dreams, too.

Not frequently, but when he’s able to enjoy a night’s sleep not ruined and tainted with nightmares, you’re there. Sometimes fleeting, sometimes more present. A thing, an anchor—looping yourself around him, figuratively, literally. A different kind of heat on his cheeks when he wakes after those, a different fist to his chest as he tries to level his breathing.

He doesn’t show it when he’s awake. When the bitter chill in the air makes his hands rub together and your eyes find his over the top of Ellie’s head, her interest suddenly in bees is unsurprising. Joel has learn, that anything that stings, seems dangerous, or kicks, seems to get the kid intrigued.

Joel just smiles at you, burning a thank you into your eyes—for doing this for her, with her. Giving her something to chatter incessantly over food with him. But it’s the one you give him back that sticks in him, remaining with him until he closes his eyes—it’s another one added to the collection which you wear like an accessory when he dreams.

He likes that you’re there. In his newly formatted dreams—greeting him there too. Little flashes, soft smiles and alluring stares hide your monster and make his bury itself in his chest. Sometimes, you wear white, the picture of innocence—all pure and unbroken. Others, he finds you coated in scarlet, a beautiful oxymoron—his own real-life Carrie.

It’s why he misses your usual comment when you pass his house on the way to the pen. It’s why he looks out for you when he’s tending to some shop door—why Tommy finds him looking around when he’s packing up.

“Y’missing something—or someone?”

Shooting a look, he’s met with a snort, a grin.

“Get outta here, will you?”

Tommy just snorts louder, “She don’t work today—Bee.”

He almost shoots back that’s not your name. It all unfurled on his tongue, the weight of it sitting there. But he swallows it.

“Don’t know what y’mean.”

“Come off it, brother—you’re across the street from me. I see things.”

It lingers with him. Sticks. Clinging to him as he trudged back, Ellie hammered her feet down the stairs to greet him, a thousand and one things shooting out at him. Question after question—some he hears clearly, others get lost in the excitement. More names, more people she’s made friends with—

“So can I?”

“Can y’what?”

She shifts—shyness present, a look he’s not used to seeing on her. “Can I go watch the movie at theirs?”

All he can think is, that she looks like Sarah—that same permissive look that children adopt when talking to their parents.

The unease. The hoping—but not wanting to show too much. Just in case. As though by expecting, it’ll hurt more if he says no.

Not that he would. Not that he does.

Her chorus of thank you’s painting the house in glitter and gold, his smile challenging to hide as he puts away the toolbox—and removes his boots.

“I heard Bee’s at home.”

Turning his head, he knows he’s pulling a face. A mix of how do you know and what you getting at, all mushed and rolled into one.

Ellie just shrugs, that annoying knowing one that he remembers back when she cracked the radio. The look of deviousness and mischief swirling in her eyes and spreading to her lower face.

“Get outta here, kid.”

You bought him a batch of shortbread.

They’re encased in a tin—it’s small, circular. It’s old, likely restored as best as it could be from wherever it was taken from. But, the contents are new—sweet, rather perfect, even if your note attached had been describing them as anything but.

Joel hadn’t been here when it arrived, coming home to the lid already off, a small plate next to it, adorned in crumbs. He supposed if Ellie liked it, he would—and fuck did he.

“So, she just baking you things now?”

“Looks like it.”

He knows all of Ellie’s faces—each emotion stitched into it. A scowl here, a surprised look here. Tonight was a cross between sarcasm and, really, man.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Shifting his weight, he dips his chin. Staring, right over his nose as she holds her hands up, excusing herself, dashing up the stairs before signalling his lack of an answer with the slam of her door.

He could admit that each time he sees you, you flirt—that you’re still all kind, sweet. But, Joel knows there is an edge to it. Something simmering, bubbling. A current attempting to wrap itself around the two of you and pull you under—laced with flirtations, them prickling in the air.

It reaches a new height quickly, his fingers plucking at strings as you walk past. Your eyes glazed, the night heavy—a storm brewing in the air, something he can feel, half-expecting rain to fall down and do its usual cleanse of the soil, leaves and muck.

He had seen you pause, turning your frame to his porch. Climbing it, stopping yourself from stepping on the top step.

“Y’good, neighbour?”

He snorts. “You’re drunk.”

“Merry.” Your correction comes with a smirk. “Drunk makes me sound like I can’t handle it—and I can handle it.”

Sliding the guitar from his lap, he looks at you leaning, that same smirk. The one that’s been growing over the days, weeks. One that makes his blood boil and his jeans tighten.

“You know, if you ever feel like playing with something that sounds just as pretty, Miller, you let me know.”

Whatever retort he’d been about to give, fizzles, dies. It slides back down his throat as you throw up a wave, practically skipping down his steps. Not even looking back as you walk that bit further to your own place, before you’re out of view.

He should go in, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he watches your home, as you flick a light on as you move through your home—hidden by curtains and blinds.

Joel can’t hear anything, but a part of him wishes he could.

Wondering whether you sing to yourself, whether you’re clumsy—and you paint the air with fucks and shits. Whether you’re thinking about him…

Joel picks up the guitar again, calloused fingers ready to brush over strings.

But he just hears you. A ghostly echo of your statement, humming, swirling around the porch.

Leaning it against the side of the house, he stands, bones creaking, porch chair groaning, as he heads inside.

Needing another door and wall between you and your confession and the relief he needs to find to be able to look you in the eye tomorrow.

CHAPTER THREE ->

[marypaol]

Tension in Potion-Making

Draco x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Insecurity, jealously, possessive personality, that’s all :)

Summary: Reader and Draco have been friends since early childhood, and something stirs between them when asked to make Amortentia.

Note: For the wonderful

@just-another-reader1098

I don’t know why I struggled writing this, I deleted so much with the ending and re-wrote a bunch of options. I didn’t know how you wanted angst involved and I’m sorry I didn’t put as much as probably desired. I hope you enjoy it anyways and thank you so much for requesting!

Masterlist

___

The girl couldn’t remember her life before Draco, like he was a person that was meant to enter her life and guide her towards the right direction. Or he just happened to join her life story and happened to impact it so much.

Whatever the reason may be he was always there, either lingering in the back of her mind or by her side to make snarky remarks or complaints. She was used to it by now, however, having dealt with his attitude for years on end that nothing was new to her. If only she could replay their life together like a movie film she would then take the time to recognize what she truly had. She was beyond grateful for the boy, he kept her sane and whenever someone dared to bother her they would quickly realize who they were messing with.

Their friendship was a linger in memory ever since then but it didn’t ever die, nor did it go back to the way it was. They were kids, little mindless kids that didn’t know that being friends who goofed around and shoved chocolate frogs in their mouths would have such an impact on their lives.

She wouldn’t change one thing about it though, oh Merlin no, because it wouldn’t prove the development they’ve had over the years. Development meaning lingering touches and long glances but nothing strong enough to confront each other about.

That was the way she felt until one day in which she thought would be normal. She didn’t expect not only to be sharing Potions with the Gryffindors, but to be making the most powerful love Potion in existence.

“This is ridiculous.” Draco muttered when Snape informed them.

“I don’t see the purpose of this stupid Potion anyway; it’s not like I’m going to smell anything.” He snarled. “Like how does the House Cup have a scent?”

She kept in her laugh, shaking her head. “No, Draco. It’s about love and your deepest attraction… showing your deepest desire for an unknown person…I wonder who I’m going to smell.” She said, not being able to help but think of the possibilities.

Draco scoffed at the dream-like tone she was using, looking over at her from his cutting board.

“You? Smelling anyone? Oh please, I doubt someone would even smell you.”

A normal person talking to Draco would be hurt, but she was used to the teasing and banter that practically flooded from his mouth like water so instead she slapped him on the arm and watched in satisfaction when he rubbed the spot.

“I’m serious; I bet you’re curious about who you’ll smell.” She said back.

Malfoy scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard, but what she didn’t know was that he was more curious than ever. Did all his wants, besides wanting to prove to his father that he’s worthy, come to the idea of someone understanding and loving him? Was there someone already out there and he was about to find out who? Just by leaning in and taking a soft sniff of this bubbling liquid that the cauldron beheld? Yet the smallest sniff would give the strongest scent, revealing who he desired most.

Draco scoffed again to get rid of the thoughts and to prove his point further on how silly it was.

“Me, a Malfoy, wondering who I smell. Stupid and absurd, really, I tell you.” He mumbled under his breath. “I’ll stick my nose in there and smell the copper of the House Cup, that’s for sure.”

He watched as she nudged some ingredients towards him so he could cut them, rolling her eyes at his behavior.

“Really? Your deepest attraction is a cup made of copper?” She tested, scooping something into the Potion, watching as it bubbled and smoked from the addition to the mix.

Draco seemed to be scoffing a lot that day, because that’s what he did just then.

“No, take a joke. Obviously I’ll be smelling my own scent because everyone’s desire for me will be so strong this whole room will be able to smell it.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little. Draco scowled.

“You think it’s funny do you? The facts are funny now; every girl is drooling over me and it’s absolutely hilarious to think about.”

She shook off the laugh coming up her throat, composing herself.

“What if I don’t smell you?” She tested, watching for his reaction.

His eyes stopped on hers, looking at her face with such intensity that it made her sink into her feet a little. He eyed her up and down, silver orbs seeming to absorb her appearance.

“You better.” He said simply, but it sounded like a threat, vanishing the playful banter in the air that was previously present, replacing it with think fog and tension that surrounded itself between them.

“And why should I smell you?” She bravely asked, staring right back into his eyes. He made a chop with his knife that was harder compared to the others, staring at her harder than before.

“You’re mine, that’s why.”

Hope you liked it! 🫶🏻

[bbanghiitomi]

| RRL (reviewing relationship lessons)

synopsis: dating kang haerin feels like waking up on a friday morning, looking forward to what may happen tomorrow (saturday), and tomorrow again (sunday)... then anxious about what may come next, then you're happy again because there's really nothing to be afraid of.

— newjeans!khaerin! × newjeans!fem!reader

(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)(⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

[posted in relationship advice forum!]

kittygokhrn • online

[my girlfriend...]

> what should i do when my girlfriend is upset and i don't have any idea why?

comments:

guestuser_1253 commented

> why is she upset?

user16277 commented

> tough, skill issue

guestuser_7937 commented

> the best option is to talk to her about it, you will never know why or what to do if you don't ask her.

"man these comments sure are useless..." haerin mutters under her breath as she shifts her gaze behind her laptop, as she sits on the dorm's sofa — she catches a glimpse of you from the kitchen, talking to minji while baking cupcakes and cookies. haerin feels a sense of jealousy, also guilt. she doesn't quite understand why you're so distant today, it's only tuesday and you haven't told her what the problem was, it's already getting inside haerin's head and is making her overthink about what she may have done wrong.

but alas, what the last commenter said was right, she's never going to know unless she asks you, it's not like you're going to telepathically tell her nor are you going to tell her without her asking. this is the worst part of becoming kang haerin, the lack of initiative and not being very confrontational about stuff... no matter how big or small it could be.

well it's hard — very, for someone like haerin confrontation isn't as easy as shutting up and waiting, maybe because waiting hurts less? or at least she can expect the worst and not be surprised, give her some time! she's just learning, and learning means making mistakes and adjusting of course.

it's not just her anymore, it's you and her.

which means anything she does may affect you, well great! no one told her it'll be that way. things just don't happen because of nature, somehow haerin remembers what she once read in a book before: existence precedes essence, it means that one person guides themselves towards their destiny through their choices.

haerin shudders thinking about it, that means whatever happens to her is her fault and only her fault. now, back to you — she remembers how sweet you were yesterday but today seems different, obviously you're still sweet but not as sweet (enough to give someone type 2 diabetes) as you were yesterday and that sucks for haerin because she loved your sweetness.

haerin tries to think back to what she did yesterday that may be possible to get you acting this way, but no matter how scrunches her face, she couldn't think of any reason why you're being so distant. if she continues waiting or not doing anything you may get more upset!

gosh, what did i do for her to act like this?

seriously, she doesn't know. given the fact that you're dating her for only 2 months, of course she's still trying to grasp your emotions, your actions, and your mood... you've been friends with her alright? she likes you, by a lot! the thing is that, haerin was never the type to really make a move when she was still crushing on you, which really meant you did most of the initiatives to get her to do something and she wasn't able to get to know you more aside from what she already knows.

it's embarrassing for her really...

haerin sighs and closes her macbook, she stretches and places the gadget on the wooden table in the living room before standing up and making her way to the kitchen to see you and now danielle as minji had to leave to help hyein with her school work. haerin glides her hand on the countertop, you're busy mixing the ingredients and your furrowed brows were the proof to your effort.

danielle on the other hand is watching over the oven to make sure none of the cookies are burnt.

"hey..." haerin calls out to you, eyes on you while you whisk the eggs. "hmmm?" you simply reply, haerin blinks yet her face has no reaction. she simply leans on the counter, with you being on the other side of the kitchen island and her on the other.

haerin pouts, moving her hand with her index finger sticking out as she reaches for your bracelet, which she made by the way. haerin pulls it gently, just to get your attention and which was of course — successful. you lift your head slightly to get a glimpse of her, with your eyes you see her looking up at you with her cat-like eyes, her contact lenses making her pupils look much more prominent.

you kind of feel the way your heart skips, wasn't part of the plan by the way — you didn't want to ignore haerin but you wanted to make her feel that you were quite disappointed with her dismissive behavior yesterday, when she brushed off min heejin in exchange for peace (an alone time with you). it's not like min heejin was mad or anything — actually, she didn't even mind it but of course, you did and you know haerin didn't even realize that she completely dismissed their ceo for you.

you don't like that! you don't like when people get ignored because of you! you know haerin, giving her a timeout even through being away from her by a small distance is enough to make her feel like something has to be wrong or out of the ordinary.

you know she doesn't like spending a day without talking to you or at least receiving hugs from you... and it's only 2pm!

"why are you ignoring me?" haerin asks, her voice is muffled by her arm that is folded on top of the counter in front of her face. the tone of her voice seems like she really wants you to know that it's bothering her, and correction — you're not even ignoring her, you literally greeted her when she woke up!

"i am not ignoring you haerin." you tell her, you see the way she scrunches her nose but only for a few seconds before she looks down again and back up at you. "in fact, i'm baking for us and i greeted you good morning earlier." you add, leaning close to her — haerin lets go of your bracelet when you shift your hands to place the bowl aside.

you really need her to be more specific about what she wants to know, because you're sure she's wondering if she's done something and all she has to do is ask.

you see danielle placing the newly baked cookies just beside haerin, haerin doesn't even spare any glance at the tray but just follows your traces. danielle leaves the kitchen to answer the telephone call from heejin and now it's just you and haerin.

haerin hums. "did i do something wrong yesterday?" she asks, fully leaning onto the countertop. you sigh as you stand in front of the kitchen island, a few meters away from her.

"it's not wrong, i guess... it's just not proper." haerin pushes herself up when you answer, her eyes widening. "w-what did i do?" she asks, though she tried to exclaim, her voice came out gentle and almost like a whisper. you know she's almost panicking, so you give her a small smile and walk to her side, not forgetting to grab the bag of icing.

"haerin, look — i know you love me but yesterday, i feel like you could've responded a little more attentively to heejin-nim yesterday. she was asking us nicely if we wanted to eat lunch with her, you know us three?" your shoulders slack, then you shrug, giving her a small smile. "you sounded uninterested and although you really wanted to spend the whole time with me — you shouldn't have shrugged her off like that. still, i love you haerin." you squeezed the icing out of the pipe and onto the cupcake.

"sorry... i got a little too carried away." haerin looks at your hands as she reaches to scratch her cheek, feeling her face warming up in embarrassment.

you remain quiet for a few minutes, finishing the icing before you place the bag down and face her, lifting your hand and touching her shoulder, then your fingers press against her neck. "i know... it's okay." you whisper, looking at her face — the way you stare made her flustered, feeling the familiar sound of her heart thumping banging in her ears.

she wants to stare back at you but you're making it hard for her.

baby boss (haerin-g)

[baby boss sent an image]

chicken nuggets...

chicken...

nuggets...

hi haerin!

you want chicken nuggets?

how many?

20...

chicken nuggets...

oh, okay!

i'm with minji-unnie, we're otw home!

i love you...

y/nnie...

kiss...

lol :P i love you too haerin!!!

(⁠〃ﾟ⁠3ﾟ⁠〃⁠)(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ )

HUGS AND KISSES!!!!

"bleh, you and your weird girlfriend." minji fakes disgust as she closes her eyes and turns her head away from you. "why are you spying on our conversation?" you ask, raising a brow at her, turning your phone sideways where she can't see the screen. "you have your screen brightness as bright as the sun on a sunday morning, probably that's why anyone within the distance of 50 meters would be able to read your messages." minji answers, still has her eyes shut as if she's got someone throwing acid at her eyes.

"okay... you didn't have to go off like that by the way — hey manager-nim! let's get 20 chicken nuggets for haerin!" you raise your hand, your manager looks at you and minji through the rear mirror and nods. "okay! there's a mcdonald's drive thru nearby." they answer before looking back at the road. minji finally opens her eyes and looks at you. "why does she want 20 chicken nuggets?" she asks, leaning on the seat.

today, you had a schedule for a magazine cover photoshoot with minji and although it was such a fun experience to have with your oldest member — it sure is tiring, this is why you never forget to thank the staff around after the schedule as they make the job a whole lot easier for you.

"because she wants some. why is it even a question?" you look up and then to minji — minji laughs and shakes her head. "oh nothing, just didn't expect her to have a borderline addiction to chicken nuggets. like — 20? guess she really did want to impress you before." minji shrugs, eyes shifting to the window and following the buildings with her eyes.

"i do think chicken nuggets are great — i'm happy to share that sentiment with her." you giggle, feeling your heart jump in joy — sometimes minji feels like if you were an inside out character, you'd probably only have like at least 5 joys, 5 angers, 5 fears, 5 disgust and 5 sadness — you express emotions 5 times more intensely than haerin.

imagine how crazy that is?

minji laughs when she imagines haerin having like 1/2 joy, maybe 1 anger, 1 disgust, 1/2 fear and 1/2 sadness and thinking about it more made her burst out laughing so hard.

"what is wrong with you?" you ask minji, watching her clutch her stomach in laughter. "oh my god... nothing — you and haerin are so perfect together!" minji dramatically wipes a tear off of her eye as she speak.

"you're just jealous and bitter." you scoff playfully, minji shrugs and lets out one last snicker. "you and hanni always say that." she shakes her head.

baby boss (haerin-g)

[boss baby sent an image]

hey this is us in another universe

;)))) how do u feel about that girl?

flattered actually,

spending my life with u again even in another universe is a dream

:'(((

i'm supposed to be flirting with you

and you're also supposed to be interacting with other celebrities there

but i don't mind talking to you

(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

pshhh... i feel lonely here

i don't see why i, a 17 yrs old girl should be talking to adults

i don't know why i'm here anyway

'cause it's ur job

don't worry!! it's only for today, after that we can cuddle!

doesn't that excite you???

yeah, it does excite me

great!!!

i'm excited to go home now...

great...

so, ur just gonna stand in a corner? tapping your phone?

better than talking to strangers,

i miss you so bad.

:(((

i miss u too bb

so... what do u want to talk about?

anything actually, just ask me a question

good, would u love me if i was cursed by an evil witch and became a horse?

why a horse out of all animals?

i think you would be a frog, the small kind of frog.

and you'd be slimy because the witch knows you hate being slimy.

well it sounds like you won't love me

i would!!! if you were a slimy frog, i'd keep you in a large tank with the perfect ecosystem for you to thrive.

and i'll watch you every day.

i said a horse.

but i want you to be a frog,

what if i was the evil witch?

what..?

oh, heejin-nim is asking me to stop messaging you for a while lols

that sucks, should i bring my phone down?

you should! event's about to be over. hang on a bit!

"you smell so nice..." you whisper, head buried on haerin's back — she lays on her side, offering her back for you to lean on. "uh huh, thought you'd like me more if i smell like a watermelon." haerin snickers, a proud smirk written on her face as she feels you smothering her behind, rubbing your cheeks on her clothed back, arms wrapped around her waist. "you really do smell like a watermelon, i love it so much." you mutter, voice muffled by her tshirt that's been sprayed by a perfume resembling the scent of a fresh watermelon.

haerin had just gotten home from her trip out of the country and though she was tired, she couldn't help but give you the satisfaction to get a whiff of her watermelon scent that she bought from a store in her trip, thinking of you while on her way to pay for it.

"cool, if only hyein wouldn't take a bite out of me, i would be willing to smell like a watermelon everyday." haerin declares.

[posted in relationship advice forum!]

kittygokhrn • online

[gift ideas]

> i'm planning to surprise my girlfriend with a gift, what's something that's really romantic but simple?

comments:

usergo728294 commented

> a heartfelt message

guestuser77867 commented

> maybe some kisses and hugs??

guestuser_5667 commented

> a really cute ring!

"ah, thanks manager! me and haerin are off to get something, we'll be alright don't worry!" you link your arms with haerin's as you pull her to the exit of the building, you look at her and see her sharp eyes even with a cap on her head. you smile and tilt your head, beaming at her direction — her eyes relax at the sight of your face, it brings a smile on her lips even if it is covered with a mask.

"won't they go looking for us?" haerin whispers, both of you make your way to a sidewalk — it's only 5pm and after practice have just finished, you decide that it would be a good idea to hang out with her for even just a short amount of time — even just walking around the park and looking at anything, it's enough time to keep your head from going insane with the amount of burden work has left you.

you intertwine your fingers with hers, swaying both your hands together as you two walk in a moderately occupied street. although you'd like it better if it was just you and her, you can't help but at least feel a little more like an ordinary human loving someone with all these people around — it made you feel less of a robot, and it feels like you're just like everyone else.

"they probably will but, we'll be alright, right? i'm with you and you're with me, i don't have anything to be scared of." you say, moving closer to her — closing the gap between you and her figure. haerin looks away for only a bit, her eyes even as they were covered with the cap — looks like there were glimmering stars inside of them. "right, i'll make sure no one bothers us." haerin puffs her chest proudly, trying to seem big and mighty but all you can see is a cat — like a cat that stands on its two paws with it's two other paws raised.

"uh huh, bet no one will bother us if you hiss at them." you laugh, feeling the way your cheeks warm up at the sensation of her hand. "they won't." she says.

your eyes spots a small vendor selling beunggo-ppang — you pull down you mask and you look at haerin with a grin on your face. "let's get some snacks!" haerin tries to balance herself when you start pulling her to the vendor, approaching the stall with a bright smile. you buy two of the snack and reach out to give the other one to her.

"we have so much on our plate right now, so many events — photoshoots, filming... sometimes i wish we could get a long vacation or something." you start to talk once again when haerin takes your hand again and holds it tight, she looks at you as you speak, holding her snack in the other hand of hers. you look forward, seeing the sunset peeking behind the tall buildings as the light illuminates on your face.

haerin looks down on the snack on her hand, analyzes the warm fish-like bread, and sees the way the smoke wafts around. she then turns her head to look at you and feels the way her stomach twists, the way her heart thumps and her cheeks feel warmer than usual.

"i do too. if we get the chance to go spend a day even for only one day, where no one can recognize us. where would it be?" haerin asks, eyes looking for your eyes — she sees the sunset reflecting on your pupils. you stop walking and you stand near a playground at a park, it's empty with every kid and their guardians making their way home.

"me?" you point your index finger to yourself. haerin nods and underneath a mask is a smile on her lips.

"yes you."

"huh... if we had a chance to go somewhere without being recognized... i think i would want to go to an arcade." you answer before taking the last bite out of your beungo-ppang, haerin tilts her head as she looks at you, wondering what made you choose an arcade as your answer. "why an arcade?"

"i mean why not?" you shrug.

"i expected you'll answer like a theme park or a beach." haerin says. you laugh and nod.

you look at the dark sky, turning dark blue then to haerin's eyes. "well, both are nice too but whenever i think of theme parks and beaches, i prefer being with you guys. and if it were just the two of us, i wanted to be in a place like a local arcade — you know like, the two of us and maybe some other people who don't know us. and we'll feel like an ordinary couple doing couple stuff!" haerin nods.

"then it would feel less suffocating and scary, then we won't have to worry about what we don't know, what we expect and what may happen." you add, you take off your mask to fully show the smile on your face. haerin feels her heart clench, something not out of sadness — maybe, a bit because she wishes she could actually have you without being scared of a lot of things then again, she has you and you have her, what's there to be afraid of?

she's so happy that you feel that way about her, that you're as desperate as she is and as eager to do stuff together and cherish each other's presence. it makes her feel special, like haerin other than being an idol has something to be proud of. "i wish we can stop cosplaying and playing pretend to be highschool students in a mysterious world. but i really don't regret being an idol, besides having all these people who care about me i also met you." you tell her, haerin has completely forgotten about her snack — hand reaching out to hold you.

"y/n!" you get surprised with her outburst, she furrows her brows before the untouched snack on her hand falls on the ground and she starts looking for something in her pockets. "haerin..?" you mutter.

"here..! look, i have this ring for you." you watch as she shows a golden ring with a diamond ring — something she saw when she was doing her advertisement for dior. "—! is... that a ring? i know it is but, what for?" you ask, taken back.

"for you. because i love you! and i wanted to give this to you, i don't know why but i really really — really want you to have it." she rambles, you look at it and sees the way the diamond glimmers. "you think i deserve it?" you ask again, feeling hot tears well on the corner of your eyes.

"you do. seriously, that's why i got it because i couldn't help but think of you when i was looking at it." she explains, grabbing your other hand and slipping it on your ring finger.

"how did you know it fits?" you ask, looking at the ring on your finger, mesmerized by the way it shines.

"i... kind of just felt your fingers and went with my intuition." she laughs and shrugs, the way her eyes bend make you weak.

"i love it! it's so beautiful." you giggle, ecstatic.

"yeah i know, that's why i got it for you." haerin pulls her mask down and pulls you in a tight hug, you feel your heart jump and you let her be as she wraps her arms around you. "hey..." you mutter.

"i love you." haerin mutters, burying her face on your shoulder, sobbing. you place your hand on her waist, looking at her. "i love you too." you whisper, giggling in happiness.

[posted in relationship advice forum!]

kittygokhrn • online

[my girlfriend is sad]

> what to do if my gf is sad?

posted 18 hours ago...

your eyes scan the monitor of haerin's macbook, seeing the words from a website haerin have recently visited — she's asking a forum website, consulting strangers for help with you and her relationship. yesterday, after a schedule that lasted almost a whole day — you came home with the group and stayed inside your room, unmoving the whole time. maybe it's the neverending work, the lack of sleep, and the amount of coffee you took but you were feeling so sad.

you were lying on your side on the bad, sad and alone, haerin peeked to see you and felt compelled whether she should lay next to you or leave you be.

haerin entered your room, not forgetting to knock but you were so lost in your thoughts you have completely ignored her. she stood beside the bed, looking at your frame trying to decipher what may be the reason behind your sadness but have come to a conclusion that she may not know why.

the truth is that, you are also clueless to what is the reason why — you don't understand why you felt like this and don't understand why you can't understand.

you're just sad and tired.

haerin sat next to you in the bed, but kept her hands to herself. you still have your back facing her that time, it's not like you were ignoring her but you just didn't have the energy to turn around and talk nor even say anything about it.

haerin wanted to ask but she's contemplating if you would want to talk about it because she understood that there are times where people are just sad for no reason, it happens to her when she's feeling like a burnout.

it still bothered her, she really wanted to make you feel better but at the same time, she didn't want you to think or worry that once you tell her what you felt, you would think haerin sees herself as the problem.

after a while, she decided to leave your room and found herself in the dorm's living room, her macbook on the coffee table by the sofa. she sat on the sofa and started typing on her keyboard, that's where she found herself asking for help on the website and after waiting and more waiting, and some thinking — haerin fell asleep on the couch.

today, as soon as you wake up, you find her lying on the sofa, in a deep slumber.

you smile at the sight and crouch to the level of the sofa to take a good look at haerin, sees the way her eyes flutter and the way her chest rises. you get the urge to pinch her cheeks but resort to poking her cheek.

"love you haerin." you whisper before leaning in to kiss her temple and standing up to close her macbook before leaving to cook breakfast in the kitchen with the other girls.

[flanaganfilm]

Hey Mike! Absolutely love your work, especially Haunting of Hill House and Fall of the House of Usher. I was wondering a couple things:

Any chance we will ever get to see that deleted scene where Carla plays a homeless woman singing to Madeleine? Loved the Easter egg and also can’t get enough of Verna so it would be so cool to see that deleted scene!

Also wanted to know what it was like working with Mary? It was such a joy to see her in House of Usher!! Hoping to see her in future Flanaverse projects!!

Hi there! That material was removed very early in the editing process, long before the scene was completed, so there isn't a finished "scene" to show. Carla and Mary did fine work acting in those moments, but the series as a whole is stronger without it, so a completed version of the scene with that footage simply never existed. It's an odd alchemy when you tell a story this way, and sometimes scenes that seem to work on the page can be acted beautifully, shot exquisitely, and still not be necessary or additive. In this case, it actually worked against the mysteries of the show, it wasn't believable that Madeline wouldn't recognize Verna, and it was clear that this was a mistake. It was my mistake for writing the scene the way I did, and it happens all the time. We could tell immediately that it didn't fit, so we didn't waste much time proving it out. Releasing deleted scenes is a tricky thing. I love bonus features - it's one of the great benefits of physical media - but even if we had a huge special edition box set of Usher, I don't know that we would have included this scene. Sometimes these things just aren't meant for the audience, even as an interesting relic, and this is one of those times. Incidentally, I had the same feeling about some of the material that didn't make it into the Bly Manor edit. We knew the scenes weren't working very early in the process, so they were never refined into any shape that would warrant their release. Fans will hear an actor talk about scenes they worked on, and the fans get all excited, but if they were to see those scenes it wouldn't enhance their love of the characters or the story... in fact, it can work against it. For years, I've had Bly fans reach out lamenting that they can't see some of the Bly material they've read about in cast interviews, but I'm certain that seeing it in its raw, unfinished state wouldn't enhance or deepen their love of the characters or the show. There's really nothing to release. It's just excess material that lands on the floor while you're sculpting, and sticking it back onto the sculpture only makes a noticeable wart. Other times, though, deleted scenes can be incredibly additive. For example, I think the 30 minutes we took out of the theatrical release of Doctor Sleep only enhanced the movie, and made the experience that much more rich - which was why I was so happy to release the Director's Cut with those scenes restored. Those scenes, though, were fully finished, and only removed in the first place because of the movie's run-time. Restoring those elements made the sculpture complete - they were always supposed to be there. But most times, deleted material is just unnecessary material. It can be like having an amazing meal prepared for you, and then being handed a plate of surplus or unused ingredients. Like, the chef needed to peel a lemon before squeezing it over the meal as a wonderful finishing touch. That dash of citrus really made the meal sing. But that doesn't mean you want to eat the peel. And I LOVE working with Mary. I'm sure we'll do it again!