#she laughed and said ‘that’s the common reaction of parents for this age’
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No one prepares you for the first annual physical for your kid where they talk about puberty.
I’ll tell ya what. That’s the last time I go to the doctor with Liam before I’ve had coffee in my system.
Anyways, it’s crisis time because he’s almost 10 years old. TEN!!!!! Double digits!!!!
#personal#yall should have seen my FACE when she asked Liam if he’s had any changes to his body#she laughed and said ‘that’s the common reaction of parents for this age’#YEAH CUZ HES JUST A BABY BOY!!!!!#he’s not and I promise I talk to him about what needs to be talked about but my GOD#I wasn’t prepared to be hit with this reality so early in the morning
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Giana was an only child that played in the quite streets of Willowcreek. Though her parents, Thomas and Alana Mullins, gave her the best of everything, there was always something missing. Her request for more siblings was met with rejection, and involuntary solidarity made her aware of just how alone she was. Both parents were workaholics. Her mother, a Britechester graduate with a distinguished degree (with honors) in Fine Arts, had at the time landed a job as an art curator. Her father was a chef at a five star restaurant and cooked more meals for strangers than he did for his own family. Looking back now, she could understand why having another child wouldn't have been the best decision.
Her relationship with her mom became strained as she aged. Alana strove for perfection in her work life and expected the same of her home life. As a result, Gigi attended a private high school that probably cost more than her mother's luxury car. With her mother's firm insistence, she attended a plethora of extra curricular activities. Soccer, softball, art club, music...there were too many to count, and if it weren't for the wall of framed awards her mother displayed in her library, she wouldn't even remember any of it. Because if she were being honest, she didn't care. The trophies, the acknowledgments, were just another way to earn her parent's attention.
Her despondency worsened in college. Her mother insisted that she follow in her footsteps. Gigi really didn't want to take the same path her mother took, but part of her still yearned for attention and approval. And so, she also pursued a degree in Fine Arts. She used painting to express her anger, and for a while her pieces, though brilliant, were filled with caged frustration and loneliness. Then she ran into Dillan -quite literally- outside of the Foxbury Common Cafeteria. (Nobody had mocha lattes like Foxbury.)
Distracted by the phone in her hand, she had just enough time to register the long string of expletives (Did she detect a Mt. Komo accent?) before a dripping hot slice of pizza, followed by -was that a fizzy blurpleberry soda?- splattered on her brand new white Simverse sneakers. Well dang.
Slowly, she pulled her eyes up from the bubbling mess on the ground. She totally expected to be berated for ruining some poor guy's lunch. Her gaze took note of his ruined Simdidas shoes (definitely limited edition), fashionably distressed jeans, (covered in pizza sauce), to the shirt that read “Never trust atoms. They make up everything”. The guy stared at the ground for what seemed like forever, so she couldn't read his expression behind the expensive designer glasses he wore. Still, she could've sworn she picked up on a bit of anger? Hostility?
His eyes flitted to hers, but only for a moment before dropping once again to the mess between them. She braced herself for another slew of profanities, the kind worthy of a parental advisory label, but all he asked was, “How do you fix a broken pizza?”
She stood there baffled, unsure of how to respond. The absurdity of the question in a situation like this...
His dark eyes rose to meet hers before asking once again. “How do you fix a broken pizza?”
Still she stood there, mouth gaping, probably looking like a fish out of the Brindleton Bay. “Tomato paste.” He said with finality.
“What?” She asked.
“That's how you fix a...pizza. You know...that’s broken. Tomato paste. Get it?” A single brow rose as he studied her reaction.
Gigi let his words run through her head for a second as she struggled to piece together the scene unfolding. Before she could stop it, laughter, genuine and pure, poured from her traitorous lips. She couldn’t believe she was actually laughing -like a chortling donkey, mind you- at such a corny joke. Honestly, it was the stupidest thing she ever heard. And yet, it was at that very moment, she knew she found a kindred soul, and she wouldn't have to be alone for as long as he was around. Needless to say Gigi and Dash were fast friends after that day.
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Anyways sometimes I use dictionary.com Word(s) of the Day as writing prompts.
And sometimes I get really emotional about Sarah and Hannah.
So have some fluff.
The Word of the Day that inspired this prompt was: ceilidh
Weddings in Union were not an entirely common occurrence, given the fact that most settlers who happened upon them were all too content to pass them by after a day or two, continuing off toward some unknown destination that held more promise than the one they had found. Not that Hannah could blame them for their eagerness to continue on their way and she often spent the days following their departure imagining what might be beyond the boundaries of the settlement, what it was they would find just beyond the trees. She often envied them this ability, the ability to simply continue to travel, to leave and chance their luck among the horrors and sinners that her parents swore ran rampant outside of Union. Because of this, the faces in Union rarely ever changed, leaving weddings few and far between until the children of the previous weddings came of age and the cycle continued anew as God saw fit to bless another marriage.
Or so her father’s endless sermon suggested anyway, though Hannah is loath to admit that she had stopped listening after a while. One thing that cannot be said about Cyrus Miller is that he is in possession of brevity, especially on such a happy occasion as this. Throughout the sermon, Hannah had let her eyes wander around the Meeting House, smirking at Lizzie who had rolled her eyes so far back in her head that Hannah had worried they might never come back. Or sharing an expression of commiseration with Abigail, who was continually pinching her sister to ensure that Constance stayed awake. No one seemed willing to extend the same courtesy to Sarah, who was dozing off on more than one occasion that Hannah happened to glance her way.
But there is one thing about weddings that Hannah finds that she looks forward to, though she doubts it is the thing her mother would desire her to. No, she finds no interest in imagining herself up there one day -soon, if her mother has her way- having her marriage blessed by her father in front of all of Union. No, what Hannah looks forward to the most is the celebration that will follow, especially since any occasion for merriment is few and far between in Union. But it seems that even the most dedicated believers can’t find fault with an evening of celebration, which allows for the indulgence in all things that most usually frown on. Drinking and dancing. Music and food -the latter Hannah had found herself stuck preparing for the past two days, much like most of the women in the settlement, leaving her unable to see anyone outside of her scowling mother for the majority of the past few days.
Now, Hannah doesn’t mind so much. Because the spring evening is pleasant, and the moon is swollen and bright in the evening sky and fires and torches flicker and dance, adding a glow to the familiar faces that look softer and more welcoming on an evening like tonight. And she’s already heavy-lidded, not from her father’s endless sermon, but from the food and the bit of spiced wine that Isaac had passed her way and the warmth of the fire warming her cheeks as she stands, listening to one of the older settlers tell tall tales to wide-eyed children. Around her, she can hear the swirl of conversation, the laughter that is so rare in Union, and all of that warms her too, makes her head spin with it and with the sounds of music that is so rare she thinks she can count on one hand the number times she’s heard a fiddle or fife.
Hannah isn’t even aware of how far her mind has wandered until someone grabs at her elbow and she startles, jerking back to her senses with a suddenness that makes her jump. Her reaction earns a laugh, the melodious sound of it immediately soothing any annoyance and embarrassment that had been creeping up the nape of her neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Hannah turns to look at Sarah, who is grinning broadly at her. “You don’t seem sorry.”
Sarah’s smile only grows, eyes sparkling. “I am. Quite repentant.”
“Yes. I can tell.” But it is difficult to maintain an illusion of annoyance, to hide a smile of her own from creeping across her face. Instead, the sight of Sarah standing across from her warms her in a way that the food and music and joviality of the night never could.
As though seized by the same ease that has settled across all of Union if only for the night, Sarah reaches for her hand. “Come with me.”
Hannah’s fingers curl around Sarah’s without thought and, momentarily, without worry. She doesn’t worry about who might look over and see them shadowed in the flickering firelight. She doesn’t worry about what might happen if she were to continue to hold Sarah’s hand, if she were to listen to the traitorous beating of her heart. “Where?”
Sarah just smiles, and Hannah knows it doesn’t matter, that she would follow Sarah regardless of their destination and with all the excitement and people around them, no one seems to notice them at all. Capturing most of the attention is the newly married couple, the groom with his face flushed from likely far too much wine and the bride with a smile stretched tightly across her face and weariness in her eyes. Because of the gathering of well-wishers, of dancers and those helping themselves to more drink and food left on the tables, she and Sarah are able to do what they have surely never been able to before and slip away from Union hand in hand.
The further they get from the center of Union and the Meeting House, the quieter the evening becomes, until the sounds of music and conversation fade to a murmur behind them and it truly feels as though they are the only people left in the settlement. If only that were true. If only Hannah could always feel the way she does in this moment: fizzy and loose and warm, eager for what the next moment might bring.
The place Sarah leads her to is the leeside of the Bermans’ barn, with only the apathetic eyes of the cows there to make note of their presence. Sarah moves closer to her, stepping into her space and the side of the barn is worn against Hannah’s back as she presses against it and reaches for Sarah, drawing her closer still. Sarah’s lips taste like wine, like the spring sunshine, and Hannah shivers, her exhale of breath swallowed by Sarah’s mouth. They’ve never been so bold before, never allowed themselves an accidental brush or lingering glance inside the confines of Union before. Normally, it is shadows that surround them, darkness that keeps their secrets. Now, Hannah can’t help but marvel at the gentle brush of the setting sun on Sarah’s face, how it makes her eyes sparkle as Sarah looks at her.
Hannah reaches up, her palm resting against Sarah’s face. “Is this why you brought me over here, Sarah Fier? To kiss me?”
“Well, I certainly did not intend for us to begin mucking out the barn.” Sarah smirks and Hannah’s heart seems to swell in time with the music drifting toward them from the celebration, her skin humming along with the resounding notes of the fiddle.
As though to explain herself further Sarah says, “I doubt anyone will notice we are not taking part in the festivities for a while. I could not resist.”
Her hands settle against Hannah’s hips and Hannah imagines what it would be like to be back among the rest of Union, to dance to the music with Sarah in plain view of everyone, to reach for her hand to steady herself when the dizzying movement and wine made the world unsteady. Or to be able to reach for Sarah’s hand always and escape the notice of those around them.
For now, that is at least something she can do. She can reach for Sarah and pull her closer and have no one notice, to be content that there is no one looking for them. That Union can fade to a dull whisper of sound until the entire world becomes Sarah alone.
Hannah slips her fingers around the nape of Sarah’s neck, thumb brushing against the dip of her collarbone, and pulls her closer, lips brushing. It doesn’t take long for Sarah to deepen the kiss, to press in closer, her hands on Hannah’s waist the only thing making her feel tethered to the world. Hannah sighs, tangling her fingers in Sarah’s hair, and lets herself imagine, if just for a moment, that this night might last forever.
#Sarah/Hannah#Fear Street 1666#I have emotions#Sarah Fier#Hannah Miller#just so much fluff#because it's what they deserve#ugh sad#I mean me not the story
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વેવિશાળ [Vevishal]
(My Feminist Commentary Part - 4/5)
"મુસ્કાન બવ માથાભારે છે!"
Translation: "Muskan is too headstrong!"
said my ex father-in-law while returning my stuff back to my family. Sharing my mother's optimism that I could do both, build an ambitious career and not put my personal life on hold, I had agreed to getting married to my boyfriend of five years. There is a photo album in my cupboard which holds the memories of my engagement ceremony on glossy paper. There is also a પાનેતર [Panetar] (traditional Gujarati Saree for bride) in the same cupboard that I planned to wear on the day of my wedding. However, that day never came!
Getting married is quite common and considered a bit too important in India. The divorce rate for Indian marriages is also very low. Hence most of the Indians get married and stay together for the rest of their lives. While dating and marrying for love is becoming more popular, arranged marriages are still prevalent in India. In my family, all marriages are arranged marriages and I am the first person who dated openly.
I was about to finish high-school and turn 18 when I had my first ever conversation about dating with my parents. It was a summer evening and we were enjoying some cold drinks on the balcony of our small apartment. My mother was recounting her experiences about getting marriage proposals as soon as she had turned eighteen. "It put બાપુજી [Bapuji] (my grandfather) in an awkward position when people would keep asking for my hand in marriage before I was ready. But things have changed now. No one is going to bother us by asking for your hand until you graduate from college." she said. "I don't think that I will get married that way." I said. "How do you plan to get married then?" asked my father curiously. "I am going to date!" I replied. "But that is not our culture!" said my mother, refusing to engage with the idea any further. "We will see." said my father without showing condemnation. I wondered about બા [Ba] (my grandmother)'s reaction as she was not present during the conversation. It is important to note that at the age of 17, I was convinced that someday I am supposed to get married. I was not questioning the notion of marriages but just the tradition of arranged marriages.
Universities are a great place for learning as well as for romance. And I did both ;). He was the lead guitarist in our garage band and he also made me laugh (so cliché!). But the important thing about him was that he never treated me differently for being a woman. I was his co-guitarist in the band and his batch-mate at the university. I was his peer and he always treated me like it.
Women are not treated as equals in most of the marriages that I have seen. Young women are often told to compromise against the discrimination that comes with the wedding traditions and the married life. Either they get used to the discrimination or they have to put up with a lifelong hustle to achieve their equality. However, I had high hopes about achieving an equal partnership in my marriage. I always saw my boyfriend as my equal. We grew up in the same city, came from the same socioeconomic class, went to the same university and graduated with the same degrees. We were equals in every sense. So when it came to marriage, I expected him to bring his solid 50% and I was not willing to do more than my 50% just because I am a woman.
I am happy about the fact that we sustained equality in our relationship while we dated. But when it came to marriage, I started receiving a lot of discrimination in the name of wedding traditions and expectation from a wife and a daughter-in-law. Having zero tolerance for gender based discrimination in my personal life, I obviously protested against it. Unfortunately, my protests failed. Unwilling to settle for anything less than being treated like an equal, I had to call off the wedding. It is important to note that for the first time ever in my life I started questioning the notion of marriage in my mid 20s thanks to this incident.
બા never got equality in her marriage and my mother too hasn't achieved it completely. My boyfriend and I had equality as long as we stayed boyfriend and girlfriend, but it got thrown out of the window as soon as we decided to become husband and wife. It is quite absurd that this small change in our titles was powerful enough to make such a big difference in our relationship.
Calling off a wedding primarily because you failed at sustaining an equal partnership is quite an unusual reason in my social circle. I have seen many examples where women had to make compromises for marriage, and I have seen no examples where a woman challenged the sexist traditions at the risk of not getting married. I did not win but I am proud that I protested. Instead of asking me to compromise, my family respected my feminist ideas and stood by me. I see that as a huge milestone in the women's condition in my family.
When people get to know about my feminist crusade for equality in wedding traditions and marriages, I generally get two kinds of reactions. Some people react with "Wow! That is brave!" and the others call me nuts :p. Most of the people in my social circle claim that India is not there yet when it comes to equality within marriages. "But why not?" I ask. Despite going to the same school, writing the same exams, competing for getting admission in the same universities, taking the same courses, graduating with the same degrees, working on building the same skills, competing for the same jobs, begging the same salaries, paying the same taxes on our income, why are we still allowing men the ages old special treatment when it comes to marriages? Why even the couples who managed to date as equals fail to remain equals when it comes to marriages?
I paid attention to married women under the age of 40 at a recent social gathering. Most of them were in charge of providing care for their children and in-laws with little to no help from their husbands. For these women it was simply out of scope to take care of themselves, their diet and exercising. Some of these women had already become obese. Having chronic pain in their neck, back, knee, etc. was quite common among the group. These women were struggling with basic health and well-being even before turning 40. Married women are deemed to be in such a condition when their husbands fail to bring in their 50% in the marriage.
Just like Cricket, you can not escape marriages in India. Everyone whom I know from school and university, is either already married or about to get married. Unlike cricket, I still take a keen interest in marriages, because a marriage is the perfect sport to gauge a woman's condition. I still often go to cheer for my favorite teams when they tie the knot. But after facing injuries from a foul play and getting betrayed by the third umpire, I do not play anymore. Now I instead sit in the commentary box and enjoy the sport from a safe distance!
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technicolor (f.w.)
prompt request by anon: it is said that when you meet your soulmate, you will know because the world that you knew in black and white would turn technicolor. during a harmless game of spin the bottle, you didn’t expect your soulmate to be revealed to you.
warnings: drinking, mentions of eating, mild language
pairing: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor reader
word count: 5.3k
The power of true love was life altering in your world. Literally. The world was painted in shades of blacks, whites, and grays. It always was for those who hadn’t met their true love, their soulmate, their one and only. It was said on the occasion that you had kissed your soulmate, the world before you would erupt into vibrant color. People spent their whole lives, searching for the person who brought color to them.
Living in a dull, colorless world was mundane to say the least, but it was all you knew. The idea of living in a world of color was an exciting thought to say the least, but in a way it scared you. Suddenly the world as you knew it changing abruptly before your eyes because you had met someone that destiny created for you? It was a scary thought. But in your head, you had nothing to worry about. You didn’t plan on meeting your soulmate any time soon.
Or so you thought.
Laying upside down on the common room couch, you flipped through the pages of a Quibbler, not really paying attention to the words on the page. You looked on either side of you, Katie painting her nails on your left and Alicia on the right making light chatter with Angelina. Needless to say, the four of you were bored out of your skull. It was a quiet Friday night, nothing happening in the common room. No parties, no quidditch match, no nothing.
With a groan, you pull yourself up from your inverted position and speak, “So are we all just going to sit around here like a bunch of bums and wait for something exciting to happen?”
Katie sighs, “That’s even if something exciting happens.” She blows on her nails, shaking her hands back and forth to expedite the drying process. “Does anyone have any ideas?”
The two of you look to Alicia and Angelina who just shrug as you throw your head back in annoyance. “Well, someone think of something because I refuse to let a perfectly good Friday night go to waste,” you flop the Quibbler on the table in front of you and hold your arms across your chest. “What can we do to entertain ourselves?”
Alicia stands up and starts pacing, trying to think of something. “We could...sneak some food out from the kitchens? Convince a house elf to sneak us some sweets from dinner two nights ago. Those biscuits were so good,” she thinks out loud.
Katie groans, “The thought of food makes me sick. I ate so much at dinner tonight after Ron challenged me to see how many dinner rolls I could fit into my mouth.”
The thought of Katie with bread rolls in her mouth makes the group chuckle. “Okay, so food is out of the picture,” Alicia speaks with a soft smile. “What about a movie? I can see if Hermione would let me borrow her projector and we could watch one of those movies I have tucked away in my trunk,” she suggests, surveying the group’s reaction.
Angelina makes a sour face. “We had a movie marathon last week, I’d like to do something different,” she tells Alicia who rolls her eyes.
Alicia huffs, plopping herself back onto the couch. “Well, then I’m out of ideas, so you come up with something, Johnson.”
The group sits in a bored silence for a few moments before Angie breaks the silence. “Should I go bother Fred and George? Surely they’ll find something to do. They always make things interesting,” she speaks, raising her brows, gaging her audience’s reaction.
Katie rolls her eyes, “Merlin, Angie, if you want an excuse to see your darling Georgie, you can just say so.” You laugh at her comment and give Katie a teasing high five as Alicia giggles along. Angelina rolls her eyes and leans back on the couch. Angelina and George had been dating ever since sixth year when they kissed after their first date and they had seen the world in color, confirming their soulmate status. Katie mockingly starts teasing Angie now, “Meh, meh, I’m Angie, I love George, I see the world in color. Meh, meh, my sweater is green and not black like you guys see it, blah, blah,” making you cackle, throwing your head back in laughter, clutching your stomach.
You lean into Katie as you laugh, making her laugh harder as Angelina stands up, “Oh, piss off you two! I can’t help it that he’s my soulmate and I found him so early!”
“We’re just teasing you, Angie,” you wipe the tears of laughter from your eyes. “Go on, go fetch the twins. I’m sure they’ll think of something to do. Tell ‘em to bring Jordan with them if he’s around. Lee is always a good time.” Alicia nods in agreement.
With a small smile, Angelina darts off up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Alicia shakes her head, “That girl is whipped for the Weasley. I can’t believe she found her soulmate already. We’re not even eighteen yet.”
It was true. It wasn’t unheard of people finding their soulmates at a young age, but it surely wasn’t common. Most people were friends or knew their soulmates for a while before they were aware that they were in fact soulmates. For example, your parents both went to Hogwarts and we friends for years. It wasn’t until after four years after graduation that they realized they were soulmates. You smiled to yourself at the thought of your parents. You wished that you could have a soulmate story like theirs.
Katie folds her arms across her chest, “Quite frankly I hope I don’t meet my soulmate anytime soon. I feel like after you meet your soulmate, you’re expected to drop everything and be with them. But you have your whole lives ahead of you to spend time with each other. I’d rather be single and have fun and live my life in black and white for a while before seeing color with a soulmate.”
In a way you did agree with Katie. Most people who met their soulmate at a young age tended to drop everything in order to be there for their soulmate. Coordinating their lives and schedules to their soulmates, moving cities for them, planning their days around the other. It just seemed so intense. You were seventeen, you couldn’t drop everything right now for another person.
Moments later, Angelina happily came down the stairs with a large smile on her face as George, Fred, and Lee all trailed behind her. “The entertainment has arrived, ladies,” George speaks with a big beaming smile on his face as you teasingly rolled your eyes.
You sit up and speak, “What entertainment did you bring, Georgie?”
He places a hand over his heart, pretending to be offended at your comment. “Are we not enough for you, (Y/N)? Is our presence not enough?” George mockingly stumbles back. “Freddie, I feel faint! Catch me!”
Dramatically, Fred scoops up his twin brother as George pretends to faint. “Merlin’s beard, (Y/N), look at what you’ve done!” he mockingly screeches as you roll your eyes and giggle. Katie huffs a here we go as she leans back into the couch. The twins always put on a show when they were around you guys. You never minded it; they were quite funny when they wanted to be. “Quick, Lee, we need to revive him!”
Lee, now in on the joke, runs over to the coffee table and clear it quickly. “Bring him here!” he exclaims as Fred lays a fake limp George on the table as you laugh and Alicia scoffs.
“Good Godric, you three are a bunch of idiots,” she huffs with a smile on her face. No matter how much she hated to admit it, this was much better than sitting around and doing nothing.
Fred speaks, “Alright, Lee, give me the reviving potion,” sticking out his hand.
Even more dramatic than before, Lee pulls out a large bottle of fire whiskey from his satchel as he improvises an operatic song as he places it in Fred’s hands. Lee opens George mouth as Fred uncorks the bottle and pours a glug into George’s mouth. George swallows it and dramatically inhales. “I’ve been revived!” he exclaims as the boys cheer.
Katie perks up at the sight of fire whiskey. “Where in the hell did you get a bottle of that?” she sits up and grabs the bottle from Fred’s hands. Lee pulls out a few cups from his satchel and places them on the table, Katie immediately pouring everyone a glass of fire whiskey.
Fred smiles, “It’s our emergency bottle. In case situations like this happen.”
Folding her arms across her chest, Alicia speaks up, “And exactly how many emergency bottles do you boys have?”
The trio looks at each other before sighing and speaking as a chorus, “Four.”
“Uh huh, that’s what I thought,” she laughs before taking a cup of fire whiskey from Katie, Katie then handing you one. “Well, it’s better than nothing I guess.”
You look at the whiskey in your cup before sighing and taking a sip, the liquid burning your throat, but warming your chest up in all the right ways. A familiar sensation. You hum in contentment. “Better than nothing is damn right,” you smile as the twins chuckle. “What were you lot doing upstairs?”
Lee takes a seat in the chair across from the couch, “Same thing as you gals. Bored out of our skulls. However, these two numbskulls were trying to conjure up a plan to go pull a prank on Filch.” George snickers as Lee flicks the back of his head, earning a small ow. “Good thing you all were bored too otherwise I would have been dragged into that mess.”
Fred scoffs, “Oh please, you wish you could pull off a prank at the caliber that Georgie and I do. Isn’t that right, brother?” He turns to George who is already cuddled up next to Angelina on the love seat, arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close next to him. Fred rolls his eyes and makes a gagging sound. “You two make me sick.”
George just pulls Angie closer to his side as Angie blushes a deep crimson. “You’re just jealous, Freddie. I’ve got a hot girlfriend and I can see the world in color, making it quite obvious that you, dear brother, are green with envy.” Angie rolls her eyes, but still places a soft kiss to George’s cheek.
Fred shakes his head, “He’s gone soft, Lee. We’ve lost one of our bravest soldiers.”
“Piss off,” Angie speaks up, defending her boyfriend as Freddie chuckles, lips turning into a gorgeous smile. “Now that we’ve all got our drinks, let’s really get the party started...” she wiggles her eyebrows. “Katie Bell, truth or dare.”
Katie groans and sips her fire whiskey before deciding what she wants to do. As she ponders, you see Fred scoot over to you as you giggle, him dragging his bum on the floor, making his way to you. Fred smiles up at you, “This seat taken?” he refers to the spot on the floor right in front of your legs.
You shake your head with a smile, “It’s got your name written all over it, Weasley.”
Fred gives you a cheeky grin, “Brilliant.”
He turns around and leans his back up against your legs and rests one of his arms on your knees. You and Fred were close friends. In fifth year when Angelina confessed to you that she had a crush on George, you started spending more time with the twins and developed a close relationship with them and Lee. You, in particular, got along with Fred like a house on fire. The two of you loved to crack jokes on the sidelines, teasing George and Angie, giggling and stealing little glances here and there.
Angelina always told you that you and Fred would make a cute couple. She insisted she saw the way that Fred looked at you, but you always brushed it off as if it were nothing. You and Fred were friends, nothing more, nothing less. A partnership would just totally ruin the vibe between the two of you. There was no point to it. Even though you may have always admired Fred’s looks from a far and his charming personality, you had finally convinced yourself that you and Fred Weasley were platonic.
As Fred leaned up against your legs, sipping on his whiskey, your eyes found Angie’s as she lifted her brows, looking at you knowingly, sending you a look that said Oh? You rolled your eyes and shook your head, responding with your eyes, No way. She just shrugged and sipped her fire whiskey nonchalantly as if to say Whatever you say...You just brushed it off and leaned back as Katie challenged Lee to a dare.
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The night progressed and the drinking continued and the bottle got less and less full. Soon enough, the common room was full of your tipsy giggles as the lot of you cracked jokes with each other. You hugged your sides as you cackled as Fred did a spot on impression of Draco Malfoy as he mimicked him walking through the halls, yelling “Potter!” every now and then. Of course, the humor was amplified by the liquor in your hands, but it still was hilarious. The whole group was in a fit of giggles as Lee quite literally fell to the floor from laughter too hard.
Alicia laid her head in your lap as she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes as you all recovered from laughter. “Fred, that was brilliant. You’ll have to show Harry tomorrow morning,” she tells him as Fred plops down next to you on the couch, stealing Katie’s spot as she was now sat on the floor next to Lee.
Fred chuckles and rests his arm around the back of the couch, gently hovering behind you as you suddenly become very aware of his presence. You spot Angelina out of your periphery vision as she smirks to herself before leaning over and whispering something in George’s ear, making George look at you with a devilish smirk on his lips. Your gaze towards them hardens as you mouth, Knock it off. George just smiles and sips his drink quietly, pretending to mind his own business.
You turn to Fred and give him a soft smile as he drops his left eye in a wink, making your heart skip a beat. “Easy, Weasley,” you say in a cautious tone as he lifts his arms in defense. You shake your head and lean back into the couch, bumping into his arm that is draped across the back of the couch. Neither of you bother moving.
Alicia rises from your lap and reaches for the fire whiskey bottle, but groans in defeat when she realizes it’s empty. “Bloody hell,” she groans. She looks to Lee and begs, “Is it appropriate to call this an emergency and you can grab another one of your emergency fire whiskeys?”
Lee laughs, “I regret to inform you we have a one emergency bottle a night policy.” Alicia groans and flops back onto the couch. Suddenly, a light bulb goes off in Lee’s mind, making his eyes grow wide and a little smile dance on his lips. “However,” he wiggles his brows and surveys the group. “Now that we’ve got an empty bottle, I think we all know where we can take this party...”
Looking up from her cup, Katie says, “Where are we taking the party? Are we going to bed?” she asks with sadness in her voice. “But the night is so young!”
Shaking his head, Lee looks at Katie. “Are you daft, Bell?” he asks as she rolls her eyes, sipping her whiskey. “I meant we could play a cheeky game of spin the bottle,” Lee suggests.
Alicia huffs, “Really, Jordan? What are we? Fourth years?”
“Oh, come on, Spinnet, it’s just to add a little spice to the mix,” Lee shimmies his shoulders making you laugh. “Besides, it gives you an excuse to have the privilege of planting a sloppy one on me.”
Alicia fake gags. “I’d rather spend a whole day with Professor Snape,” she spits as Lee laughs.
George speaks up now, “Angie and I will sit this one out, but we will watch the show.” He pulls Angie impossibly closer to him as she cuddles into his chest. “For obvious reasons,” he smirks. Fred boos his brother and throws his now empty cup of fire whiskey at him. “What? I am not kissing someone other than my literal soulmate,” he rationalizes. “Besides, you’ve got five players. That’s enough. That is, if everyone is comfortable playing.”
The group all looks at each other, gaging everyone’s feelings of playing a cheeky game. You had to admit you’d rather not play a game as childish as spin the bottle, but for a weird reason, you were keen on playing at least one round. As you looked around, it seemed like everyone was on board to play.
Your eyes meet Fred’s for a moment as he looks at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips for a split second, hoping you wouldn’t catch him. You quickly turn away, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks. “I don’t see the harm in one game,” you shrug as you see Fred smile from the corner of your eye. Lee claps his hands cheering as Alicia and Katie agree.
Fred speaks up, “Well, I can’t let Lee be the only bloke having all the fun, now can I?”
Everyone is on board with the game as Lee cheers, “Alright! Five for five!” He places the empty bottle of fire whiskey on its side in order to spin it. “Everyone knows the rules. You spin and kiss whomever it lands on, no matter who it is. I’m looking at you, Weasley. If you land on me, I expect the best snog of my life,” he teases as you all laugh wildly. “Whomever the bottle lands on gets the next spin. All good?” Everyone nods. Lee smiles, “Groovy. Welp, youngest goes first. Bell, you’re up.”
Katie giggles, “Put on your chapstick, you lucky sons of bitches.” Alicia laughs as Katie reaches and spins the bottle. The bottle does a series of spins, turning clockwise as she anticipates who she’ll be planting a kiss on. She nervously dances back and forth as you watch her with a small smile on your face.
Slowly the bottle stops spinning to land gently on Fred. Your heart stops for a second and your mouth runs dry. You blink a few times and swallow hard. The group all claps their hands and laughs as Katie rolls her eyes. You on the other couldn’t help but have a tight feeling in your chest. You force a smile on your face before you look at Angelina quickly. She raises her brows, monitoring your reaction as you just shake your head, letting her know you were fine.
Katie scoots over to Fred as Fred leans down. “Get ready for your mind to be blown,” Fred jokes as Katie slaps his arm.
You watch very intently as Fred ducks his head down to connect his lips with Katie. You stop breathing for a moment as you watch Fred kiss one of your closest friends. Your palms start sweating and you pull yourself away from looking at them kiss. Lee and Alicia oooh and giggle as you look at Angie, eyes screaming at her, Okay maybe I’m not fine.
She gives you a nervous smile and mouths, “It’s just a silly game.”
You nod your head and shake it off. It was a silly game. That’s all. A stupid, silly, childish game. It meant nothing. You knew Katie didn’t like Fred like that. She had fancied Adrian Pucey for a few months now. This kiss meant literally nothing.
It felt like the kiss had lasted for hours when it was a brief five seconds. Katie pulls away from the kiss and returns to her position on the floor. Fred just smirks and leans back in his seat, dragging his thumb across his bottom lip. You watch as he does so, the small gesture being surprisingly attractive to you as you gulp. But you quickly turn around so Fred doesn’t catch you watching.
Katie laughs, “Eh, you’re nothing to ride home about, Freddie. Hate to break it to you.”
Fred shrugs, “It’s alright, Bell. The first stage of grieving is denial. You’ll eventually accept that that kiss was the best one of your life.”
Lee cackles as Fred joins him in his laugher before leaning over and spinning the bottle for himself. The bottle spins round and round and round as you watch it, the bottle hypnotizing you. You secretly wished that the bottle would land on you, wanting to be able to kiss Fred Weasley and getting the confirmation that you didn’t like Fred in that way. But honestly, you just hoped it was anyone but Katie or Alicia.
The bottle slowly stopped spinning as it gently landed on Lee, making the group erupt in laughter. Lee’s lips drew up in a devilish smile as he rubbed his hands together, “Here I come, big boy!” he exclaims, making you laugh even harder.
Fred laughs and sits up in his seat. “Give it to me, Jordan,” he challenges.
Lee springs to his feet and grabs Fred’s face with both hands, squeezing his cheeks together before smashing his lips on Fred’s. Fred is laughing as Lee kisses him roughly, rocking him back and forth. George is absolutely dying of laughter, falling into his chair as the rest of the group squeals.
Alicia grabs onto your arms, squeezing you as she laughs, you doing the same. The kiss happens for a while as you cackle, “Good Godric, come up for some air why don’t you?”
With a smack, Lee pulls off of Fred as Fred falls back in his seat. Fred’s eyes are wide as Lee wipes his lips. “And that,” Lee points to Fred, “is how you kiss someone. Not that pathetic thing you gave Katie.”
The group comes down from laughing at Lee spins the bottle for himself. The cycle repeats for a while. Lee kisses Alicia, Alicia kisses you, you kiss Katie, Katie kisses Lee, and then the bottle spins again. Lee spins and the bottle gently lands on you as you giggle. “I’m expecting excellence, Lee Jordan,” you eye him as he laughs. “Not going to lie, Alicia might give you a run for your money.”
Lee rolls his eyes, “In her dreams.”
You giggle before the two of you close the gap between you two, kissing each other. The kiss is honestly not bad. Lee’s lips tasted of the fire whiskey along with vanilla and sugar. The kiss was gentle, but not bad at all. Your friends around you all cheer and oooh at you two in typical fashion as you both smile into the kiss. You pull away and Lee sends you a wink. “The reviews are in,” you speak. “Not bad, Jordan. Not bad at all. Actually, pretty damned good!”
Lee pumps his arm. “Hah! Take that, Spinnet!”
“Alright, my turn to spin,” you giggle and excitedly spin the bottle.
The bottle spins and spins and spins as everyone waits in anxious anticipation. Who could it be? Slowly, the bottle stops spinning and lands on the person right next to you, Mr. Fred Weasley.
Your heart stops as your mouth goes dry. Everyone immediately erupts into cheers, specifically George who springs onto his feet. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for this one!” he cheers as you gulp.
Kissing Fred Weasley? Maybe this game was a mistake.
You stare at the bottle, and then to Angie who wears the biggest grin on her face, and then back at the bottle and finally to Fred. His eyes stare back at you as you gulp. A smirk dances on Fred’s lips as you suck in a breath. The whole group stares at the pair of you, silent, waiting for something to happen.
The tension between you and Fred was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Cat got your tongue, (Y/L/N)?” Fred teases you as he scoots a little closer to you. You suck in a shaky breath as he chuckles lowly.
You snap yourself out of this anxious gaze and speak, confidence now coursing through your veins. You were going to kiss your best friend and it was happening now. “Make your move, Weasley,” you challenge with flirtation laced in your voice.
Fred smiles, “No need to tell me twice,” he lowly whispers.
Immediately, Fred cups your cheek and brings your lips to his. Your lips connect and the whole group loudly cheers and screams. You hear Lee scream, “Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”
But you couldn’t care what was happening. You were kissing Fred. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Fred’s lips were soft, but demanding as they pressed firmly onto yours. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon and spice; his lips were like a personal drug that you couldn’t get enough of. You pressed your lips harder against his as you both sucked in a breath, your hand resting on his forearm. His lips moved gently against yours as you both enjoyed this kiss too much for a friendly game of spin the bottle.
You opened up your mouth enough for Fred to slide his tongue in, massaging his with yours as you moan just loudly enough for Fred to hear, making him smile into your kiss. As the group watched you two softly snog, they only cheer louder. You were too involved in relishing in the way Fred’s lips felt pressed against yours to care about how your friends were reacting.
The kiss was everything you wanted a first kiss with someone to be. It was gentle, but didn’t lack in passionate or desire. His lips moved in sync with yours as you followed his lead, his tongue dancing with yours. It was exactly how you imagined kissing Fred Weasley.
You are pulled from your thoughts when George cries out, “For Merlin’s sake Freddie, don’t eat the poor girl!”
Gently, you break the kiss as Fred’s lips follow yours for a moment, not wanting the kiss to end just yet. The two of you keep your eyes closed, relishing in the moment that you two shared.
Lee laughs, “Is it just me or is it hot in here?”
You giggle and gently pry your eyes open. But that’s when you gasp.
You look at Fred who sits in front of you in full color. His bright red hair contrasting against the light blue thermal shirt he wears. His brown eyes stare at you just as much in shock.
It happened.
“Merlin’s beard...” you whisper.
The room fall silent as your friends stare at the two of you in confusion, wondering what could have possibly happened that made the two of you stare at each other in shock.
“Is it...” you start.
“Yeah,” Fred answers. He lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, it is.”
You let out a light laugh with him and slowly, look around the room taking in your surroundings, the whole common room in beautiful colors of maroon and gold. Color dances everywhere as you let out an amazed chuckle.
Looking at Angie with amazement, she suddenly realizes exactly what’s going on. A smile erupts on her face as she lets out a sigh. “Good Godric,” she breathes. She looks at George. “It happened.”
The entire group registers what is happening as they stare at the two of you in awe as you two take in your surroundings gentle. “Oh shit,” Lee breathes out with a smile. “That’s bloody brilliant...”
You look back at Fred who just wears a gentle smile on his face as you look deeply into his chocolate brown eyes that swim with amazement and adoration. You could look into those eyes forever. And lucky for you, that’s what you were going to do.
Breaking the silence, Angelina says, “We’ll leave you two to it then. Guys...”
Your friends all start to leave the common room, running up the stairs to the dormitories, definitely to chat about what just happened.
You are now left with Fred in the common room, sitting on the couch together, staring at each other in technicolor. “Hi, Freddie,” you breathe out with a smile.
Fred smiles, “Hi, (Y/N),” he reciprocates. The two of you just take the other one in for a few moments as you gulp. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do? Merlin’s sake, this was supposed to be a cheeky game of spin the bottle and all of a sudden. “We’re soulmates,” Fred speaks plainly.
“I guess so,” you laugh. You gently bite your lip. “I never thought it would be you, Fred.”
He inhales a long breath. “I had a feeling,” Fred admits as you teasingly smack his arm. “I’m glad I was right,” he confesses as you blush. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. With and without color,” he tells you. “I didn’t think that you could get more gorgeous, but color has proved me wrong.”
You shake your head, “Freddie...” you trail off, blushing wildly, crimson appearing on your cheeks for the first time. Fred takes your hand in his and gently rubs his thumb over your knuckles. You give into his touch, nothing feeling more right. “I’m so glad it’s you.”
Fred lifts your hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “We’re soulmates,” he repeats himself as you nod. “Wow...so, we get to spend forever with each other, huh? You’re going to get really tired of me, aren’t you?” he jokes as you laugh.
“I could never grow tired of you,” you confess, squeezing his hand. You run your hand through his red hair. The signature of the Weasleys that you could finally see now. “I do have to say though,” you start. “I was not expecting your hair to be this red.”
Fred laughs, “Get used to it, darling. You’ll be staring at it for the rest of your life. Not to mention, the Weasley genetics are strong. Sorry to say that if we decide to have kids, they’ll end up like this.”
You roll your eyes, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Freddie.” He smiles and sends you a wink. “So,” you breathe out. “What do we do now?”
He inhales deeply and sighs. “Well,” he starts. “I think we ought to tell people, specifically our parents,” he says as you nod. “But other than that, we do what we want.” You gaze into Fred’s eyes and smile. “(Y/N), we have the rest of our lives together. There’s no rush. We can go at our own pace. We don’t have to pay attention to what people say we should be doing. I’m just happy that we’ve found each other that way we can start forever now.”
Your heart fills with joy and adoration at his words. You had always worried that you wouldn’t love soulmate, nevertheless like them, but loving Fred Weasley was going to be the easiest task of your life. Living your forever in color together.
“Sounds good to me, Weasley,” you smile.
Fred leans in and closes the gap between you two, kissing you again sweetly like he had done minutes ago for the first time. His lips are even gentler than before on yours as you smile into the kiss. Fred pull away and smiles, “Reckon we go upstairs and get the teasing out of the way from the lot?”
You take a moment. “Let’s wait a little while. We have forever for them to tease us. We’ll only have this moment for a short time.”
He shakes his head. “Merlin, you’re perfect.”
And there the two of you laid in each other’s arms, taking in the new colorful world before you, souls now connected forever. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
#Fred and George#fred weasley#Fred and Goerge Weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x reader imagine#fred weasley x muggle!reader#fred weasley x female reader#fred weasley x fem!reader#fred wealsley x gryffindor! reader#Harry Potter#harry potter fandom#harry potter fanfic#Harry Potter Smut
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| into you | j.jh
pair: jaehyun x fem!reader
word count: 7.7k+
summary: as the uni campus’ social butterfly, it’s a given you have a lot of friends, invited to almost all gatherings and all adore you. for the latter, jaehyun does too. he’s so into you and likes how you’re his happy place. or; jaehyun— an unsocial, often misunderstood person, finds his behaviour different with you and perhaps wants to keep you for himself, not anyone else.
genre: fluff + elite!au
a/n: i’m back after a while since i’ve been so so busy! this is not proofread again and i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes down there :> this is not canon with “letting go” scenario in case there’s any similarities with the characters. hehe anyway i hope you all enjoy reading! ♡ ~j.
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seated at the front row in the amphitheatre-shaped lecture hall, jaehyun frustratingly put his hood back on to hide himself from those who were staring from all around. they were definitely whispering about him, hands by their lips to conceal their voices in case he heard them. he hated this much attention, all because he chose stay of out school and classes— and claimed that it didn’t interest him.
so did coming today.
but the point was his attendance for this class was on the line and his busybody parents were sick of receiving phone calls or mails that kept filling their boxes, all for the same reason; that their son could be expelled despite handing assignments.
he rolled his eyes at the heat creeping up his ears as the whispers grew louder. he slammed the thin granite table, causing everyone to flinch at the sound and his presence. “can i have some quiet?! i can hear you guys talking crap about me!” he turned around at the pairs of eyes, soon frozen like meerkats.
they ticked him off. he couldn’t stand being in the same room with people who repeatedly questioned his existence of being here. he knew that rumours were going around, that the ‘jeong jaehyun’ in high school got into an private elite university— it could be anywhere but never expected it‘d be this campus. it was written in the judgment of their faces.
“chill man,” a guy his age swung his lollipop with legs on the desk. “some are curious why you decided to show up today since first semester’s a week away from ending, while some even wonder why you got into such prestigious and elite university.”
jaehyun’s eyed him slowly from legs to head. “who are you supposed to be?” he snorted at the stranger.
“just a guy who wants to break the distraught you’re trying to start.” he kicked his legs off the desk and stood up on his suede shoes, showing off his pearly whites.
he looked at everyone whose eyes averted from the two of them. “our town’s a small neighbourhood, so everybody knows everybody. we know exactly who you are, jeong jaehyun.”
“excuse me?” he swirled his tongue that it was evident he was pissed. “careful what you accuse me of. you and i both know it’s not going to end well-”
“they’re near they’re near!” a voice echoed the hall, cutting jaehyun’s attempt to intimidate the young man any further.
and with that signal alone, jaehyun could see and observe ladies fixing their hair and make-up, while the guys gave fistbumps to those near them. he rolled his eyes at him returning the favour to them as the guy unbuttoned his collar. “what’s wrong with you?” jaehyun was utterly weirded out. “with everyone?”
the crimson-haired guy only gave a flirty grin with raised brows. “this happens everytime.“
the door swung open with the professor rushing in. the students swifted heads, it wasn’t the first time he ever was late. he was young and good-looking, and it was hard to believe he still a bachelor. he gestured someone at the door, then the held-in giggles and mumbles were soon replaced with whispers of awe, as you walked in carefully with a tower of binder folders halfly covering your view.
clearly the guys around him have been secretly admiring; some had the confidence of taking selfies even if you were far, while others took a picture with their eyes so you were marked in their memories. ladies flocked towards the flustered professor like little chicks and surrounded him.
and that’s when the comments started coming in.
“park seojoon is so hot.”
“hey remember to use ‘professor’.”
“i guess genes runs in the family.”
“his sister is ethereal too.”
“i see her weekly and y/n’s a goddess.”
“y/n! are you coming to the party tonight?”
jaehyun knew who you were through social media and common friends. and he included himself part of the people who admire you. he also remembered because he bumped into you during orientation. he wouldn’t usually care about passerby’s and strangers and although that was a brief moment and short eye contact, something about you was hard to not forget. you had people and friends under a charming spell he couldn’t describe, and that was in a good way.
you tucked a strand behind your ear and became shy afterwards as they whistled and cheered towards your gesture, making you heat up a thousand degrees higher. you should be used to this but every time it happens, you were just as flustered as your brother.
jaehyun’s legs got up on its own and was surprised at himself for making his way to help you. he picked up the fallen binder files and scattered papers while the whiskers by your eyes creased up in shyness.
he hitched a breath realising that the clumsy you was adorable too.
“thank you.” a smile then appearing at the corners of your lips caused jaehyun to freeze for a while. yuta wouldn’t miss anyone’s reaction. he slid his chair close to jaehyun’s as the he came back, nudging his chair for him to give into your beauty.
“i know a person with heart eyes when i see one. now you understand why we’re whipped for y/n. isn’t she a babe- agh.” he held the back of his head from the smack.
“don’t call me that, nakamoto.” you hissed sharply with how confident and careless he could get, especially with people you weren’t familiar with. you looked at the guy in a black sweater and let out an embarrassed sigh. “i’m sorry about my annoying best friend. yuta tends to be chatty when he feels lonely.” you winked at him.
it was jaehyun’s turn to flash short chuckle, its faint sounds perked not only your ears, but yuta’s as well. “not a problem. i know a lonely person when i see one.” jaehyun emphasised through his gaze.
“i’m not lonely! i have y/n and my men!” he whined and turned towards you. “see what you did y/n?”
“it’s good to finally see you, jeong jaehyun.” you ignored yuta and brought out a hand for a greeting.
you pursed your lips to stifle a laugh, jaehyun’s ears quickly turned from pink to red. he gulped loudly and took your hand in his, eyebrows lifting at how you knew his name.
lost for words and you both locked eyes where he forgot to let your hands go. “we take the same course together? i know your name because you’re the only one missing from the class-” you said, shaking his hands to subtly let him know it had been a minute since your hands felt his vainey flesh.
“okay young lad that’s enough time holding my sister.” seojoon separated your hands and jaehyun snapped out of his admiration, inhaling quite stressfully with how stupid he looked. “get to your class y/n.”
“alright, i’ll see you at tea hour.” you waved at the boys.
“as long as you’re treating i’ll go.” yuta hummed in a monotonous voice, fixing his laces that went untied.
“i’m not talking to you dimwit.” you flicked his forehead, leading to your satisfaction of the nut-like sound from it. “jaehyun, because you missed yesterday’s class, prof assigned me to assist you, along with the other topics you’ve yet to cover. i’ll be expecting you at the café near campus.”
before you stepped out of the hall, yuta pulled your sweater, yanking you back. “are you going to taeyong’s party tonight? you never miss an event!”
you puckered your lips, pinching his cheeks that a cute gummy smile came out from it. “you know my rules. as long as you’re driving me home, i’ll go. see you later.”
jaehyun nodded yet was still in a daze. he realised what you said when yuta pushed him. “gross. don’t act as if we’re already close.”
“hm? was i really? i think it’s normal when you’re making a move on my best friend.” he brought out his laptop and typed his password.
i wasn’t. “whatever.”
and to say that jaehyun didn’t feel butterflies flying uncontrollably in his stomach would be an understatement. they made the intestine churn in ways he couldn’t imagine, and he himself wanted to deny that what he was feeling was just from the influence of others. but wouldn’t that mean his feelings were temporary? because if it were, he should perceive you an ordinary person.
yet here he was outside, still admiring you before he entered the café. he found it was amusing of how oblivious you were of his presence— you were too immersed into this assigned task by professor, but others found it funnier when jaehyun looked stupidly in-love and cowardly the lad looked, despite having the overall aura of a stuck-up.
as the sun’s rays brightened the city and the wind’s breeze made the trees leaves dance, only then had you raise your head to see jaehyun waving at you. ten minutes early, not bad for an actual first impression. “hey,” he greeted, making you smile with his low but gentle voice. “am i late?”
you took your bag from across and asked him to sit down. “no no. you’re just in time, it’s really nice to have an early bird around.”
his dimples deepened at the compliment. “how about the project? is it too late? you think i can still catch up?” jaehyun cleared his throat.
“that depends on your dedication. based on the record professor gets, you’ve been doing your tasks and homework quite diligently. he’s just worried about your habit of not attending his lectures might lead to procrastination when second semester starts.” you gave him a slice of cheesecake to eat. “he’s still teaching us another subject.”
“it’s quite the contrary.” he dove in for the dessert. “i don’t have the will to procrastinate at all.”
“then good.” you twisted the pen in your fingers. “let’s get started?”
for that span of two hours, how he wished it could be more. who knew you would have a lot of things in common with him? that time alone was not enough to talk about vinyl and jazz singers and pretty much everything that were overlooked by people. he brought up his favourite spots in the city and how they became a safe haven to escape the reality.
to cut the explaining short, his shell slowly started to open, bits and new things were showing. if you were surprised he was a good person, jaehyun himself couldn’t believe he was able to converse with people normally. being the awkward and shy type, doing this almost seemed impossible.
was it your magic that caused him to do so?
you learnt that jaehyun was rather special and by special it meant he had gifts that you believed were way beyond human limits. he never studied in a library, rewatched lectures or written his notes. and the professor mentioned how jaehyun received good grades in most of the things he submitted.
to be very honest, you were a little jealous. from how he was sitting in front of you, he didn’t seem to be interested but was definitely listening. and you sort of gave up in continuing anyway. “i don’t understand why i’m told i need to guide you when you’ve already caught up with everything.” you let out a soft chuckle that seemed more of a question.
“i was waiting for you to stop..” jaehyun said quite blatantly and stretched his arms and you were hurt because if he didn’t want to, he could’ve said so. heck, even more so, he shouldn’t have come here and wasted time-
“..because it looked like you were forced to do this by prof.” his smile then faded seeing you mirror the same. “are you alright? you’re a little pale..”
your eyes widened. “oh uh, sorry, i assumed-” you sputtered and probably died inside with what he said. you cursed in your mind. dammit y/n.
jaehyun raised his brows, making you more flustered and panicky. you sighed and waved your ‘its-nothing’ hand. “assumed that i’m brusque and a stuck-up?”
he pierced his eyes at you and you weren’t going to lie, he scared you a bit. but that fear immediately disappeared when a gentle giggle and adorable dimples replaced it. “i get that a lot, but don’t worry. i’m different from what people think. they think i’m not friendly, a-and a loner too.”
“you’re not.” he heard you counter him, slightly slamming the fork down. “if you were, you wouldn’t be here with me. or even bothered to come.”
his heart became warm through your words, that act of kindness torn down his walls of inferiority and his perception towards people changed. “thanks.” he checked the time on his watch and twisted his wrist to show to you. “don’t you have a party to attend to?”
“lee taeyong’s?” you stood up to leave the café. “i feel like skipping it for tonight. i’m not in the mood for parties somehow.”
“because i’m a better company for you?” jaehyun teased and boy was he proud with his remark, you didn’t even deny it. “you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to. it’s better to have time for yourself sometimes.”
“you’re saying from experience?” you asked, putting pressure on your words about his claim of being alone.
“it’s more of an advice for you.” he winked.
you thought he was quite observant even though he barely socialised with others. he noticed the light in your eyes sparkling, in which he felt his chest squeeze. you twirled in your toes as you hugged your laptop. “say.. are you up for a movie marathon?”
—
including now, it’d be the fourth time you both have rewind the specific scene just for that certain song jaehyun kept singing nonstop. and although you loved his voice, having the song on replay would be a little too much and the purpose of the marathon might go in vain. it seemed jaehyun was way into it, so interrupting him would be mean of you so you sang along.
“the nostalgia still hits me ‘til this day.” jaehyun tossed a bag of chips from your kitchen island to you.
jaehyun kept saying it may sound stupid and corny coming from him, but as a child he liked the whole high school musical series; and he pretty much became one when breaking free started to play.
because you both couldn’t decide where to watch the beloved movies by everyone, the marathon ended up being at your apartment. it was subtle, yet quite obvious to you he didn’t want it to be held in his place. you thanked your psychology course for giving lessons to notice even the little things in behaviour.
“how many times do i have to keep telling you it’s okay to like it? not like anyone would tease you for it.” you giggled as you opened the bag and popped a couple of chips into your mouth.
“yeah sure, but i know you would.” he squinted his eyes for you to admit that that was your plan eventually.
“have i?” you singsonged, sipping on the large cola cup.
he pointed at the hairbrush you held and suddenly you bursted out in laughter since jaehyun was obviously— maybe a little— offended with how you mimicked him singing earlier. “okay you caught me.”
jaehyun felt his entire body heating up. still in denial about actually being into you, he took a challenge upon himself and scooted next to you. his arms slightly brushed and touched against yours. “you in for hsm 2?”
“well we are having a marathon, might as well go for camp rock later.” you shrugged and eyed him with a confirming gaze.
“uh-huh.. but i’m still a fan of the trilogy.” jaehyun stole the chips in your hands.
“now aren’t you cheeky.” you gasped at his playful behaviour, and you didn’t dislike it. perhaps you prefer this naught over yuta’s as it didn’t get into your nerves or have the urge to hit him because of the hyperness.
he sat deeper into the beanbag. “i’m comfortable in here. your house feels too homey.”
“so is it my fault that you’re in your comfort zone?” you stated, taking the bag of chips back into your arms.
“yes.” he protested with frequent waves of his palms. “you’re too kind and i might come here to visit often.”
“suit yourself.”
since he arrived here it had him wondering, why did he decide to show up today at campus when there was actually a pure human being like you? he just needed a person— just one— to knock onto his heart. yet with many people in his life trying to do the same thing, none held the correct key. and somehow,
it had to be you.
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you’ve lost count of the number of times jaehyun has been hanging at your crib since then. it became a normal routine but never have you been to his place. it was always yours and you didn’t mind that. though he did promise, you respected his decision.
you found out he could be little dorky and corny but that was the unique trait about him. like friends at kindergarten, you both were still at a get-to-know-each-other stage. so that day, he created a schedule where he would hang out with you on wednesdays and fridays, claiming that he didn’t want to be seen by others, e.g. mr. nobody with ms. golden girl.
however, since then, people close to you have been looking at you rather differently. it wasn’t because they sometimes see jaehyun following you around, they sensed a different aura from you. you could feel their piercing stares from all directions, as if you were the centerpiece of a watch. there was something a little different than usual.
and you tried to ignore this ominous feeling for now.
yuta shook his legs vigorously, in which was an unsightly act to see for someone on the soccer team. you could see him from afar with his hands by his lips, biting it as he waited for your arrival at the university’s sports ground. jaehyun jogged towards you with his bag slung diagonally across his torso. he poked your neck and as a person with severe tickle spots, that caught you off guard into a fight-me position to the doer.
“chill, it’s just me.” jaehyun had both of his hands up, whiskers appearing just by the sides of his nose.
“jaehyun!” you relaxed your limbs. “got a better way of greeting? i don’t like being surprised.” you pulled the hem of his sleeve, missing how he pursed his lips in glee when you both instantly became close, like it was overnight.
he let you grab him as you both walked towards where yuta was standing by the bleachers. “i’m sorry?” he giggled loud enough only for you to hear. “i thought i’d get a priceless reaction from you.”
you rolled your eyes that it almost hurt doing so. “be glad i have enough patience for you.”
“and i didn’t have enough patience last night!” yuta joined the conversation seeing you and jaehyun before him. “where have you been? you said you were coming to my place yesterda- why is he here?” he looked at him then at you. “with you? again?”
“ever thought that i want to have my own ‘me’ time for once?” you took off your cardigan and placed it on the bleachers. you could feel jaehyun chuckling softly when you made reference to his remark.
and boy was he proud. “you’re emphasising on that quite often nowadays.” he helped you carry your bag as you to settled down.
“that’s because i never realised how true it actually is until i say it out loud, since being in everyone’s eyes does pressure me.” you balled your fists to nudge him lightly on the arm, and for him to dramatically receive the attack did put yuta in an awkward position.
“uh hello? i’m still here!” in front of you and jaehyun, yuta snapped his fingers several times to divert attention. “what’s going on with you two? how are you both suddenly so close when you’ve just met for the first time two weeks ago?”
jaehyun swifted his head towards you, and the telepathic exchange of words between you and him had yuta clicking his tongue in disbelief. “you were right, he will react.” jaehyun’s voice prolonged while munching on a corn dog.
“told you so.” you flicked your hair and turned to yuta as you continued talking. “bestie, we’ve been seeing each other since then.”
what the hell? the way yuta’s face turn sour at your smile towards jaehyun, he could almost faint right then and there since he swore he saw mr. dimples smile subtly at you too. “and with just that i’ve been replaced-”
“no i would never replace my best friend.” you held his palms hoping he would calm down from his high emotions, but he immediately pulled his hand away from you, much to your dismay. “hey, i’m here to make amends-”
“yeah?” he clicked on a pen and wrote something on a tissue, soon grabbing your bag from the seat and fished out your wallet. “then you’re treating me my meals for a month. i have another order right now.”
now it was your turn whose face became sour. “a month?! i can’t do that- hey!”
yuta tossed your credit card up in the air and upon seeing his eyes darken— though that was all in your head—you gave in and sighed heavily. you stomped your way to the caféteria while yuta comfortably put one leg on the benches with a satisfied grin. “man she’s easy to tease.”
“is that so? then i know now who she gets it from.” jaehyun said through his chews on his food, making yuta’s ears perk up at the response.
the atmosphere lingering between the two of them invited dark clouds. both could sense the change in their moods, and they both weren’t liking it.
yuta spun and played the ball on his hands then forearms, later let out a scoff when jaehyun raised his brows. he didn’t like the vibe jaehyun was giving and so did the latter. “i do it for fun. it’s natural between us.” yuta said.
“hm? she told me she doesn’t like it when you do.” he saw you on your tiptoes as you struggled to tell the order to the person at the high-levelled counter. but another scoff came out from yuta. “you got a proble-?”
“yeah kinda.”
“i don’t think so. i can tell it really bothers you when y/n hangs out with me.” jaehyun sat up straight at yuta’s comment about him.
“i should be. because i’m her best friend and who knows what type of person you are.” he did a few tricks with his legs. “but if you really want to know then your attitude is what i have problems with.”
“i remember telling you it wouldn’t be good for you when accuse me wrongly.”
he let out a monotonous and rather mocking laugh, taking jaehyun aback but he anticipated this kind of response from him. “and what? you’ll go berserk like you did years ago? as a high school freshman? beating the innocent up or whoever comes your way?”
“look i don’t know where the hell that came from but it’s not what you or everyone else thinks.” jaehyun aggressively crumpled the hotdog wrapper in his palms.
“c’mon you don’t have to hold it all in,” yuta set his ball aside and rested his hands on his waist. jaehyun was getting uncomfortable the more he listened to him. “unleash that side-”
jaehyun rolled his tongue, nodding his head to test him. “alright, i guess i don’t have to when i have feelings for y/n. thanks for the advice.”
what the..? yuta stared at him when there wasn’t a change in his expression. jerk- “now you’re talking. you wanna fight? let’s do that-”
“tsk yuta! the bill’s too expensive!” you whined and gently put down the tray.
while yuta clicked his tongue at your sudden entry and with how quickly you came back, for a moment jaehyun wanted to hug you for being his saviour. he was so close to lose his temper towards your best friend. the relief seen in his tensed shoulders, but you interpreted it otherwise. “are you okay?” you asked while you sat down beside him.
he hummed, folding his arms and looking at the distance, clearly avoiding eye contact with yuta. “mhm, i just realised the deadline is coming up in three days.” he excused.
you managed to utter out a giggle as you finally ate, finding out how jaehyun’s ears always turned red when given attention to. “you’re stressed about it?”
“aren’t you?” jaehyun drank the remains of his soda.
“not really since i finished mine. but, if you’re worried about your progress, i can help you.” you swirled the fork in the air like a wand. jaehyun smiled to himself when yuta took his ball to throw a fit.
“i’m not worried about the project. but there’s an annoying bug i’m trying to hit so help me.” jaehyun’s dimples appeared deeply again and as the darkening ombré sunset shoned his side profile, there you witnessed how pure he actually was— and you missed out on yuta’s frown towards jaehyun.
you gulped and almost choked on your own saliva, eyes still locked in jaehyun’s. his hair caught in the wind, making it look fluffy and his entire demeanour softer than you usually see him. you hitched a breath since jaehyun seemed like he had no plans to avert his gaze too. both of you were definely mesmerised and hypnotised, and for jaehyun it was just like that time. he remembered the colour palette of your makeup while you recalled the perfume he wore.
in the recent marathons with him you’ve never been this close, physically speaking. so this close-up really debunked the impression you heard from people, especially from yuta.
however, as you were oblivious with the pressure behind jaehyun’s words and even smiled back at him, yuta flicked your temple. he was indeed a worry wart and sometimes he would like to flick you just this once for being too much of a social butterfly. he knew it was in your nature to be kind and always on the look out for others. he’s fine when you were with anyone except with this guy you befriended. not him.
he dodged your flying limbs in attempts to hit him. “oi, you’re not going to ask how i am? if i’m worried?”
the pain from the flick remained on your temple. “no? you look fine to me-” you stared at your phone. the message reminding you of the singles elite party a month from today at 8pm. “a party?”
“yeah if you attended the previous party you’d know that there’ll be another one after taeyong’s.” yuta took off his shoes in change for his casual.
“hm. i’m don’t feel like going.” you jumped off the bleachers to dust off your pants. “probably gonna be boring.”
“i’m the one who’s holding it this time!” yuta put you under a headlock in his arms. “you’re ditching your best friend?!”
you giggled and ticked his sides and followed it with a playful hug. “just kidding. i heard from momo! i’ll be there.” you brushed your hair up into a messy bun while spotting jaehyun starting to feel out of place. “oh! do you wanna come to the party, jae?”
yuta mentally facepalmed and it was given he didn’t like what you did. but your eyes were quick to see his reaction and you slapped his chest. he glared at you while his hands caressed it. why did you have to invite him? it was the whole purpose why he decided to hold a party; maybe you’d finally appreciate his hardwork, or perhaps, notice him as someone more and as not a best friend who only worries and teases you.
jaehyun nodded in response, no words needed. a smile crept your lips as if you were given chocolates on valentine’s. “cool.” you pulled him on the wrist after hearing the coach calling yuta, followed with a loud whistle. “ah yuta, we‘ll get going! see you.”
“mm yeah..” yuta hummed, seeing you both vanish in the distance. “see you..”
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your sulking self laid sideways by jaehyun’s lap, head rested on a pillow. it’s been too long since yuta avoided you, purposely ditched your hangouts, seenzoned your messages and ignored your calls. as if these weren’t obvious enough for you to know something was up. there definitely was but you couldn’t put a finger to it. so you forced jaehyun to let you stay at his place, being it your apartment was currently invaded by your brother’s friends from abroad.
but honestly it was also because you discovered jaehyun’s unit was blocks away from yours. fate was gladly on your side.
“y/n, you know i can’t work properly when you’re like this.” jaehyun sighed while he adjusted his sitting posture and lifting his laptop.
you slightly and lazily your body turned upright, seeing his dimples beginning to show themselves. “let me be.” you complained.
jaehyun put down his laptop. “i can’t. you’re in my way of cramming hours. plus, how long have you been coming here? it’s getting too frequent..” he paused when your eyes were no longer on him— rather they were on your phone, staring at the last conversation from yuta.
he couldn’t bring himself to say that he was reason why yuta acting the way he was to you. and for all honesty he would keep this matter to himself. “did i do something wrong?” you asked.
“of course not. he’s probably in his emo phase. guys have them a lot more than you think.” jaehyun typed on the keyboard for the remaining parts of the essay. “but he’ll get out of it eventually.”
“fine i’ll trust on that.” you sat up and scooted over to see his progress. you submitted your assignment hours ago. looking at jaehyun, it seemed he was struggling at some parts. were you unconsciously pressuring him? the beads of sweat began to roll down his temples and that made you giggle if it was the case. uh-huh. he was really feeling that way.
he gulped so loudly that it came out as a weird noise. he hoped you didn’t hear that. but the way you pursed your lips to hold the laughter in only had him discontinuing his report. “d-don’t do that.”
“do what?” you snicker.
jaehyun rolled his eyes and poked your forehead. “you’re too distracting.”
oh how the tables have turned. that comment flipped your head upside down, your heart in a frenzy and stomach churning. it wasn’t “so”, but “too”— that only meant he wasn’t concentrating on his work for a while.
even so, you waited for him to finish despite questionable feelings you’ve been feeling. his coffee cup already did seconds and thirds. and suddenly you remembered the happy hour the local café was promoting and there was a few minutes left until it ends for the day. you had to bring him there.
but you decided that because you wanted to be out of that suffocating air jaehyun caused.
—
the more you walked faster, the more jaehyun’s wrist reddened and hurt. but he let you be as he liked how you were comfortable with someone like him. your hair flowed with the wind, the remains of your shampoo left a sweet scent. was it lavender? and the wind blew stronger, making the scent clearer to the nose. his heart skipped beats, because it was indeed lavender. he swore in his head. scrap aside the frequent marathons and meet-ups. lavender’s all the more reason why fell for you quickly than ever.
and when the local café closed early for the day, you almost lost sight of the pedestrian signs. jaehyun pulled you in as the light emitted red. though you had your emotions get the best of you, you realised how childish you were for something so minor. you laughed in awkwardness, he did too. “i didn’t want anyone to see this side-”
warmth. that was all you thought of right there. you were in his embrace.
“..of me.” you soon mumbled in his chest, realising later of the action he just did. “jaehyun-”
“it’s okay. i don’t too.” his hand gently caressed the back of your head, treating it with care as if he held a newborn baby. “so can i keep you?”
that warmth became hotter, almost boiling that you weren’t able to breathe properly. “i’m sorry.” he said, that must’ve surprised you.” jaehyun chuckled.
surprised? of course you were. how was it natural for him to do skinship? and that smoothly? you both weren’t at that stage yet, let alone have a relationship with mutual feelings. even yuta couldn’t hug you because of how conscious you felt.
but then again, you looked up. you saw his ears. it was red, the usual reaction whenever you were with him. was it normal though? you were never aware of it up until now.
because it was so clear now.
“i’ll see you tomorrow? i have to help my mom with some things.” you lied as you scratched your neck.
jaehyun nodded and pulled away. “alright, go on ahead.”
you poked his dimples because he has been staring at you like he had questions to ask. “what is it?”
maybe he didn’t notice or maybe he did, but he was leaning closer, his head tilting to the side and eyes staring into your soul. you knew what he was about to do, you feel like letting him do so but at the same time you weren’t sure of your feelings.
just a little more and you could’ve locked lips but..
your phone vibrated.
in panic you looked at your device and eyes widened that brought jaehyun aback.
“ah yuta!” you brought your phone so close to your face, not believing your best friend’s announcement on social media, in which he then followed up with a text message.
the light in your eyes was something jaehyun liked seeing, but didn’t so as well.
“oh! he said the concept for the elites’ party is live wardrobe. all singles will go through a ballot draw. it’s for the clothes to wear for the night..” you locked your phone. “tsk i wanted to wear my favourite dress.”
“i think you’ll look great in whatever gown is chosen for you.” jaehyun pat your head while you were immersed in your phone. “now go. it’s getting late.”
“i’ll expect the same for you.” you replied.
he laughed and that didn’t want to make you leave just yet. “nah don’t. i’m just ordinary in a suit.”
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funny how he was so damn wrong.
fate let him draw red, and confidently chose a suit once it was his turn to change. it was as if he knew this attire would go well with him. a suede texture with a black outline on its collar accentuated his brushed up light brown hair, while his black under-shirt contrasted with his porcelain skin. gladly it wasn’t halloween, or else you would’ve mistaken him for a vampire.
he had you feeling all sorts of things, and you didn’t know why when you were nothing more than friends.
an hour ago he was in his usual casual wear. now he was surrounded with ladies who already seemed like they were friends with him for decades. you could see jaehyun was uncomfortable but he kept his cool with folded arms as he leaned against a column. the comments from them irritated you, because at one point they were badmouthing him— and the second he showed up they flooded him with compliments of his good looks and how they named him the “model elite”.
you swirled the wine glass in your hand, the other arm hugged your waist. you rolled your eyes at the falseness these people have towards him. “can’t believe it.” your fingers curled as irritation began to cover your sight. “look at them trying to make a move on him. erlgh too close. they weren’t like that before.”
sicheng rolled his tongue, hands in pockets and walked to be in front of you. “really? you weren’t like that before too.” he pointed out.
“i agree. recently you’re stuck like glue whenever you’re with him.” yuta gestured.
“am so not?” you gasped while your eyes trailed to jaehyun, who was still had patience for the ladies surrounding him. “i just like how he’s a good friend.”
“doubt it.” sicheng poked your cheek. “you wouldn’t feel like this when you have feeli-”
not this again. “i’m grabbing a drink.” yuta suddenly cut the conversation.
“get me one too!” the younger one yelled and after he was satisfied with the gesture, he winced as you pinched his sides from the remark he said earlier. “ow! y/n! it’s true though! i know what i’m seeing!”
truthfully, nothing about sicheng’s words or actions bothered you. but if there was anything that did, it was your own heart. as of tonight, you began to question your feelings towards jaehyun. when did it start? how was it possible to like someone so quickly? “i’m telling you i don’t.” your eyes trailed to him, not realising the rush of heat creeping your cheeks.
jaehyun was approached by yuta, who was giving him a glass of beer. the ladies fled after stealing pictures of the guy and he took the drink in his hands. then they headed towards the garden of the mansion. wonder what he’s here for?
“nice party you have here. concept’s cool.” jaehyun started to break the lingering silence because he knew how awkward this was going to be with your best friend.
“yeah, never knew you’d end up in red. it’s y/n’s favourite colour.” yuta’s voice lowered. there was an impact jaehyun could describe but assuming that would be too rude of him.
“really? i didn’t know.” he hummed. aren’t you a little too happy, jaehyun told himself. he shook it off, for he doesn’t expect him and you to go any further than this.
“now you do. so can you back up for a while? take a week off or something from y/n.” yuta raised his brows.
this was the same feeling from before. he knew this feeling because he felt the exact same way. he wanted to be selfish for once. not like he hated yuta, it was just.. he always had to appear whenever he didn’t want him to. then he would mess his mood. he interrupted his joy of admiring you. jaehyun licked his lips to dampen them. “i’m sorry, who are you to tell me what to do?”
yuta grinned and leaned against the column as he mirrored jaehyun. “don’t you get it?” he asked, his tone rising. “i love y/n. you entering the picture just ruins everything.”
my hunch’s correct. he does love y/n. “if you love her you wouldn’t ignore her.”
“it’s because you’re with her! and she does the same to me! it’s like she’s found someone else-”
“you’re being dramatic.” jaehyun pushed himself off the column and turned to him. “y/n’s sad and moping around because you treated her like she’s all alone. you have no idea how much she waited for you to contact her.”
“what do you know, smartass? you’re just another guy trying to fit in when you know you couldn’t. no matter how much you tried, everyone’s afraid of you. and now you’re telling me you have feelings for y/n? please.” his lips jutted with sounds of disbelief while his body posture challenged jaehyun. “y/n’s kind to everyone she meets. it’s who she is. but to think you have hope to be with someone like her? if you ask me, all i see is a greatest mismatch.”
jaehyun usually didn’t give a damn of the comments about him. he couldn’t care less of any of those. in fact he’d hear them through one ear and out they went. but when he said anything, it irked him.
you see, that was the thing— right now, he actually listened.
he turned a blind eye on yuta’s words and let it off for the night. he was given a drink and maybe the alcohol didn’t work its way on him than it did to guy. in the end, yuta was probably spilling tea even if he didn’t intend to.
“what i feel for y/n has nothing to do with you. just like people can’t control the tides,” jaehyun lightly knocked onto yuta’s chest. “i can’t control mine.”
the footsteps echoed in yuta’s ears, he could hear them despite the noisy hall. “rghhh!” he grabbed hold of his glass and threw it towards jaehyun.
sounds of shattering glass met the ground, as well as catching everyone’s attention. then there was silence. jaehyun began to lose his patience as he turned around. his smirk challenged him. ouch. this was the fight yuta was looking for, seeing jaehyun’s heavy breaths only made him stand on his toes.
jaehyun punched him in the jaw though he knew it wasn’t worth his time. but he wanted to give him a taste of stepping beyond boundaries. yuta punched him back too. he made sure the star of the night was the other— shone the brightest and reveal his true nature. he didn’t count the number of hits he received, as long as jaehyun stayed that way.
“i told you it wouldn’t be good if you provoked me!” jaehyun growled. “you’re asking for show? i’ll give you one!”
“huh..” yuta wiped his bleeding lip. “you sure about that, beast?”
jaehyun held himself for the next punch, feeling all of the pairs of eyes on him. yours included. that was what he feared. “aw. what impression does she have on you now?” yuta’s cooing words caused jaehyun’s eyes to soften.
all bleeding and bruised, jaehyun’s injuries have matched with his suit. he clenched his fists as he frustratingly left the hall.
in your peripheral, your eyes trailed his direction and your legs followed him by heart, without realising yuta calling out your name several times. everything went blank, not thinking things straight because while everyone watched, no one understood. you glared at yuta before heading outside, a more disappointed sigh was the only response he got from you.
yuta was then nudged by sicheng. the latter could see the change in his expression. “what did i tell you?”
“you don’t have to tell me.” yuta dusted his pants.
“i’m still gonna.” sicheng rolled his eyes and poked the lad’s temple. “that’s what you call ‘stupidity’. if only you confessed to her before maybe things would be different between you guys.”
“i don’t want things to be different dude.”
“i’m gonna state the obvious, you probably already know this but.. you lost this battle.”
“crap..” yuta’s voice changed from a nervous chuckle to a soft sob. “i liked her first.”
you spotted jaehyun sitting atop a metal barrier just in front of the carpark— head down to mend his injuries and scratches. he sniffed from the cool night breeze before hopping off. “you’ll hurt your feet.” he pointed at the heels you had dangling in your hands.
his gaze softened when you pointed at his face, especially the black eye. “touché.” he chuckled, later feeling your cold hands against his throbbing flesh. “it’s no big deal-”
“i’m sorry about yuta’s behaviour.” you sighed. “don’t let it get into you. he’s an airhead when he’s drunk-”
“you sure? he seemed pretty sober when he said- ah.” he pursed his lips to speak any further. “nevermind.”
now that gotten you curious. “what did he say? spill it!” you whined, causing jaehyun mouth to curve a little in amusement.
jaehyun prolonged the silence and grabbed your shoes, leading you towards his car. once he unlocked it and opened the door, he bursted out in a loud, healthy laugh. “he said he was head over heels for you.”
you pushed him to the driver’s seat and slammed the door, rolling your eyes at the pun. “that was so lame!” you sat on the other side. “but i know that already if you thought i didn’t. i subtly turned him down ages ago. guess he didn’t take the message.”
“clearly.”
as you tended to his wounds, one question still had your curiosity at its peak. jaehyun was quiet through-out, so it was hard to bring the topic up for a while. until your eyes and his met.
“what did you tell him before he threw the glass at you?” you dabbed the cotton onto the beaten area. “it must’ve pissed him.”
he dropped his car keys and let out a nervous hum. “uh..” he didn’t know what else to say. right when he was finally about to tell you, you suddenly giggled.
“unless you told him you like me and that made him angry, but i doubt that happened.” your lips shrank to a circle, cursing at yourself for assuming too much. girl the guts you have was incomparable—
jaehyun’s large hand held yours while you continued to apply medication. the warmth, the heat and the building tension of skinship made you weak. “you’re right.”
your smile and breaths changed in an instant when he fixed himself on the seat. he smirked a little, finding how cute you were. it drove him crazy.
“i like you, for the longest time, since the orientation. i’m so into you that i couldn’t help myself be selfish and have you to myself— i- i don’t know what i’m saying.” he sighed, pushing himself away in embarrassment with arms above his face.
“t-thanks.” you fiddled with your fingers.
“i’m not asking for an answer. i just wanted to let you know.” he said. “gosh this is a bad timing for confession.”
“then is it a bad timing if i said i’m into you too?” you looked away and out in the distance. you could see his reaction on the window’s reflection. he was shocked, but an uncontrollable smile was forcing itself on the surface. it was written in the dimples.
“no,” his husky voice called you to look back. “you’re just about right.”
#jung jaehyun#jung yoonoh#nct jaehyun#jaehyun oneshot#jaehyun#jaehyun imagines#nct 127#nct#jaehyun x reader#jaehyun nct#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun angst#jaehyun au#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun fanfic
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Strawberries & Cigarettes
Pairing: Jungkook x reader (Soulmate!AU)
Genre: angst, fluff
Warnings: mentions of sex (once), swear words, talks about death of minor character, mentions of smoking (don't do it kids)
Summary: As a child you detested strawberries, convincing yourself that you have an allergy to them. But imagine your shock when you grow up and realise that your soulmate connection has to do with the wretched berry.
Word count: 7.7k
rating : pg
A/N: This is square 4/25 for the @bangtanwritingbingo (Square: Strawberries) I have not written something remotely angsty in a while so this has been a challenge but i did it! And i am somewhat proud of it! Thank you @mochi-molala @sunshinejunghoseokie for listening to me complain about this it has been a journey. And most importantly, thank you @min-yoon-kween for being a beta queen and trying to read through this mess and managing to make 3am rambles onto words. I really appreciated all the support and tough love! @yoonjinkooked, @sunshinekims and @yoonia thank you for being there and listening to my 3am complaints whilst i was getting this done, your encouragement has been a massive help!
Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner
As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3
The sweet, fragrant, slightly tart taste invades your senses once again causing you to sigh in frustration. How are you meant to find your soulmate if this unknown taste is all you have to go by? You couldn’t even pinpoint what it could be, the flavour being unlike anything that has ever touched your tastebuds.
“For real now Y/N, what do you have against fruit?” Your friend, Taehyung, inquires. You’ve adamantly refused his offer to share a fruit snack. It’s not like you had anything against fruit, far from it. You loved fruit. It was just the wretched strawberries lying there innocently on the bed of other berries, tainting them.
“It’s not fruit! I love fruit, you know that! Remember that time we snuck out into your grandfather's garden to steal apricots?” Your friend snorts. He remembers that time extremely well. You ate way more than you should have and ended up with indigestion for days after that.
“It’s just…” you grimace, looking once more at the red offenders. “Those”
“Strawberries?!” It was Taehyung’s turn to grimace. “How can you still hate strawberries after all this time? They are the best berry out there!” As if to prove his point he reaches for one and pops it in his mouth. You look away in disgust. “Oh come on Y/N, give them a try. You never know, you may like them now.” He pushed one towards you. Glaring at him, you rejected his offer.
“Tae, you know I can't! It’s not that I don't like them, I am allergic to them!” He responded with an incredulous look but didn’t say anything. Reading too much into his look you go to defend yourself. “I am! Since I was a child!”
“How do you know?” He raised an eyebrow at you. Shrugging, you tried to find a good answer.
Truth is, you didn’t know whether or not you were allergic to them. All you had was a bad memory from when you were a child. You had a very bad encounter with said berries. It was not a near death experience by any means, and it was not an allergic reaction. You were just a child, excited at the thought of trying a new fruit and so in your exhilaration you shoved it a bit too readily in your mouth. The innocent berry happened to go down the wrong pipe and causing you to choke and your family to panic. Ever since then you had sworn to never touch them again, telling everyone around you that you were allergic. That way you didn’t have to face the shame of retelling this childhood story and they couldn’t try forcing you to eat them.
It happened so long ago that you couldn’t even remember the taste. You couldn’t understand why everyone around you seemed to find them so delicious.
“I- just do ok? I had a bad reaction to them a long time ago, and I don’t want a repeat experience” you shrugged hoping that he would not catch onto the white lie you had just blatantly presented to his face. Side eyeing you suspiciously, Taehyung made sure to eat the strawberry he had picked up, sighing in the most dramatic way possible.
“Well then, more for me” his mouth was so full you could barely understand him. Disgusted you pushed his shoulder playfully. “Ew, that is bad manners. Did your mother not teach you to chew with your mouth closed?”
Taehyung pretended to look thoughtful whilst still chewing. “Nope, now take a blueberry and shut up” he pushed the assortment of fruit your way once again, this time making sure that the strawberries were out of your sight.
“Thanks Tae” you smiled gratefully at him, picking a blueberry out. Before it could reach your mouth, a loud thump resounded from next to you making you jump. Surprised your fingers let go of the blueberry you were holding so preciously.
“Oh man, don’t waste food!” a voice you recognised all too well spoke, whilst a hand made its way past your face and into the bowl of fruit Taehyung had so carefully prepared for the two of you. Long slender fingers wrapped themselves around the green stem of a strawberry. You followed the movement of the hand holding the strawberry to come face to face with the culprit.
“Hello to you too, Jungkook” Taehyung sighs, his smile instantly dropping. “What brings you here?” His deadpan expression was a good indication of how happy he was to see him.
“Uh, it’s lunchtime?” Jungkook looked at Taehyung as if he had grown a second head. “Is this not where we are supposed to eat lunch?” disposing of the green stem of the strawberry, he pops it in his mouth. You wanted to grimace, you had enough of Taehyung making a scene whilst eating that damned fruit. Now you are forced to witness the office heartthrob lick his fingers clean of the fruit juice that coated them. Simultaneously expelling a moan so sinful it was definitely not appropriate for office hours. You doubted it was healthy for your heart.
“Yes, but you guys in the graphics team have a separate kitchen. You know, the one you took from us last year? The big fancy one?” Taehyung was still bitter about that incident. It had been his favourite break room to spend time in. The room was spacious and had more than just a few tables scattered here and there, divided by a couple of couches where employees could lounge during their break. There was also a terrace with a lot more space and a pool table. Most importantly,Taehyung’s pride and joy, a gaming room. He would get lost in there during his break, and sometimes even after work until you would come and retrieve him worried for his health.
That is where he met Jungkook, and that is where he ruined your life by introducing you to said office heartthrob. At the time your department and his rarely interacted outside of company meetings. You were working as a business analyst and he was working as a graphics developer. Your jobs could not have been more different from each other.
Truth be told, you had seen Jungkook around the building on more than one occasion. You had the chance to speak once at a company gala in a drunken haze, where you realised you had a lot of interests in common. But you only got to know him the second time you bumped into him, when Taehyung decided to introduce you two. His handshake and shy presentation told you he was too drunk to remember talking to you that night so you did not mention it either.
Once you’ve been introduced, his presence turned into one of the ones you sought out during lunch breaks, you became more aware of the rumours flying around the company. Out of all of them the ones you heard the most were about him and his love for “dining and dashing” all the women he had taken out on a date.
Normally, you wouldn’t be the person to listen to such rumours and allow them to sway your opinion of someone. But you had witnessed on one occasion how he had indeed left a woman in the middle of a restaurant and fled the scene. After that you wondered if maybe you should be more weary of him and his bad habits.
Talking to him in person was a completely different story. He seemed incredibly shy at the beginning, it took him a couple of weeks to be able to look you in the eyes. Taehyung would laugh and say it is because he had a crush on you but you doubted that. How could you believe that? Not when you lived in a world where lovers were predestined. You were born with a bond that tied you to someone else, a bond that's unbreakable. Your soulmate was made for you and only you. You could have other lovers until you found your true one, you have seen it happen on multiple occasions but once you found your soulmate and that bond was complete you couldn’t be apart from them.
Soulmates, a subject that ruined your life as soon as you became aware of it. At the age of ten you found out that all humans on this planet have a person they are meant to be with forever. A person that is yours, and only yours. At such a young age you fell in love with the concept. Fairies and princesses in the stories your parents would read you before bed, they all had their one true love. When you found out that you were meant to have one true love, a soulmate, you were beyond ecstatic. For years after, it was all you talked about and all you dreamt about. It all came crashing down when one rainy night your father had a car accident on his way home from work. The crash took a parental figure away from you. Aside from having had to deal with the pain of losing your hero, you also went through the misery of witnessing the painful heartbreak that comes with having a soulmate.
Your mother mourned for days, she could not eat or sleep, she withered right in front of your eyes. It was heartbreaking to experience your only remaining parent destroying themselves right before your eyes. You were only sixteen at the time and could not do anything to help alleviate the pain she was going through. So you helplessly stood at her side for another three years until one day, her soul finally gave up.
Her funeral was a relief for you, it meant she didn’t have to struggle anymore. The pain was gone. So, at the age of nineteen, you became an orphan.
Turning twenty and a struggling pen pusher, you met Taehyung in a cafe. You crashed into him soaking his expensive suit in coffee as you rushed out the door, late for work. Apologising profusely and promising to pay for his dry cleaning you gave him your number. That was the first time you had hit a stroke of good luck in years. Later that day, when a text came through from an unknown number you expected it to be an extortionate dry cleaning bill. Instead all that was written was: ‘Coffee’s on me next time (not literally though) haha.’ You couldn’t help but laugh, he gave you a place and time and signed it with Taehyung. That had been the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
For the first few years of your friendship you’d wondered if he was your soulmate; and so, despite your aversion to the concept, you two started dating. It was difficult not to like him, he was good looking and you two seemed to have a lot in common. It didn’t help that the sex was also great, you had to admit he knew what he was doing. But after one too many nights of netflix and takeaways at his apartment, which ended in his bed, you both decided that you were not the one for each other. So, two years into your relationship you separated. Fortunately, the friendship you two forged remained, your bond stronger than before. At the age of twenty three, you moved in together as housemates. It was the most logical thing to do, you were attached at the hip anyway and rent was too expensive for a single person to bear. Twenty four came and went, stressed and always low on money, when luck struck you for a second time the day Taehyung told you a position had opened in his team. You decided to apply and rejoiced when you got the job offer. That night you and Taehyung celebrated with pizza and champagne.
Here you are three years later having worked in the same company, being promoted from a trainee to a junior business analyst, and life couldn’t have been better.
There was one thing that bothered you, and that was the strange taste in your mouth that you had begun to notice. At first it was so faint that you didn’t notice it. As time passed, it got stronger and stronger, until you could not ignore the slight tangy, sweet taste that lingered on the tip of your tongue. It wasn’t a bad taste, in fact you quite liked it. You were just annoyed at the fact that you could not place it. You tried multiple foods which you thought may have a similar taste but none of them satisfied that craving. You hid this information from Taehyung for a while, not wanting to make a big fuss out of it until the day he found you rummaging through the fridge mumbling to yourself.
“What are you doing Y/N?” he stood in the doorway confused as to why your head was buried deep into the fridge. You jumped not having heard him move into the kitchen and looked at him in surprise. The sight that greeted him was something he was not expecting. The hilarity of your wide eyed expression paired with the cheeks stuffed full of cherries made him double over in laughter.
Mumbling something akin to “stop laughing at me, i had a craving” you stood up and walked to the table dejectedly plopping yourself down on a chair. Taehyung sobered immediately noticing the forlorn expression on your face and whilst still wiping the tears from his eyes he approached you and sat down. “What’s up chipmunk?” he could not resist making a jab at you. Sighing you started picking at a stray thread off your sleeve. You decided it was time to tell him what has been bothering you for months, despite fearing his judgement.
“Have you ever had cravings?” you turn to look at him, your expression so innocent that he could not make fun of you for such a trivial question. “Of course I have! All the damn time” he scoffed at you.
“No, no what I mean is; have you ever had a taste at the tip of your tongue, on your lips something that isn’t what you have eaten that day, but it is there continuously lingering in your mouth?” the more you were explaining this out loud the stupider you felt. Your own words were confusing even to you. But it seemed like Taehyung knew what you meant because in an instant he jumped up from his seat and looked at you wide eyed.
“Y/N!” the grin on his face intensified. “Do you know what this means?” he grabbed your shoulders in excitement. “It means that you have found your soulmate!” your eyes widened in fear, your body stiffened under his hold. Realising what he’d said, and how you felt about soulmates he backtracked quickly. “Nonono, it means you are close to finding your soulmate. It means you have met them at last!” When your frozen body refused to move he realised that maybe that was not the best way to phrase it either. But the damage has already been done. Wide eyed, you flew off the chair and rushed out of the kitchen towards your own room, slamming the door in the process.
You called in sick the next day, and the day after, not leaving your room until you were certain Taehyung had left for work. He tried on multiple occasions to coax you out of your room, but to no avail. You stubbornly refused to acknowledge him. Mulling over your thoughts in the comfort of your room, conflicted at the realisation that he was right. You had met your soulmate, just not completed the bond yet.
“Y/N, are you ok?” the worry in his voice broke your heart, but you were too absorbed in your own thoughts to respond to him.
Memories of your parents, together and apart, thoughts of your mother and her suffering, memories of you together as a happy family all swirling around in your head. It was all too much to bear, and in the end your brain gave up exhausted, only to wake up the next day and start all over again. For a week you stayed in your room, but when Taehyung decided that enough was enough he formulated a plan in his head hoping it would get you out of your room. If you refused to come out for him, he would have to resort to other methods. He would invite people over, he knew you would not be able to resist the temptation of being a good host. So that day he called your colleague and his friend, Jungkook.
Later on that night, you laid in bed, thoughts ruminating through your head at a fast pace when you heard voices from the entrance. You could easily recognise Taehyung’s voice, the low timbre echoing through the house. It was the second voice that you could not pinpoint, and so, intrigued you got off the bed.
Your joints ached, having sat in the same position for so long and your head hurt from exhaustion. You knew you probably looked like a mess but curiosity was eating at your insides. So you took the chance and opened the door slightly trying to peek into the corridor. Unfortunately, your room was the first along the corridor, right around the corner from the kitchen. The kitchen where Taehyung and his mysterious companion were now exiting from. Your delayed reaction ended up with them coming around the corner almost bumping into you. Gasping, your eyes took in the unknown person whose voice drew you out of your miserable state.
“Jungkook '' you yelped. Startled at the intrusion, you slammed the door in their faces, your back now leaning against the door. You didn’t ponder too much on Jungkook’s shocked expression or Taehyung’s pleased one. Your heart was pounding, and for a second the blood rush from the adrenaline made your ears ring and your lips tingle. You were so focused on your embarrassment that you didn’t even notice the lingering sweet taste residing on your tongue.
Sliding against the door to keep yourself from falling you tried to regulate your heartbeat by taking a few deep breaths in. After a few moments, your eyes opened and took in the darkness of your room. Deciding that you were calm enough you got up, your legs slightly wobbly from crouching for so long. Turning on the light you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was in disarray, your skin looked dull and the red that rimmed your eyes accentuated the eyebags under them. Grimacing at your appearance, you patted your hair trying to make it look more presentable only to give up after a few minutes. Throwing another worried glance at your door, as if you were expecting the boys to barge in at any moment, you contemplated going out there. You sighed deciding that you didn’t care if Jungkook would think you were impolite, you were not ready to face the world.
For the next couple of hours you tried to distract yourself from your thoughts accompanied by the loud hollers coming from the living room where the boys were playing video games. Too absorbed in your own thoughts you didn’t realise how late it had gotten, the rumbling of your stomach waking you up from your trance.
Opening the door you listened intently but there were no sounds coming from the living room. You assumed the boys had finally fallen asleep do as quietly as you could you tiptoed to the kitchen. The corridor was dark, the only light coming from the TV in the living room where you assumed the boys had passed out. Turning on the light in the kitchen you contemplated stealing Taehyung’s last pack of ramen when a voice from behind startled you.
“What are you doing?” you yelped, not having expected to have company.
Jungkook stood in the middle of the doorway, his eyes bleary with sleep, his hair poofed up and judging by the groggy voice, still half asleep. You tried to ignore the way your heart somersaulted at the sight of his messy hair, the way his hooded eyes were blinking sleepily at you and the way his small yawn made him resemble a rabbit. He was adorable and for a second you entertained the thought of telling him that.
“Food” was all you finally replied, secretly trying to fix your messy appearance. Jungkook hummed in acknowledgment. You looked away trying to ignore his eyes on you. The silence that followed was awkward, neither of you knew what to say. “Uh, I don’t know if that rascal fed you but uh….would you like some ramen?” you stuttered trying to break the awkwardness. His stomach growled as if prepared for your question. You stared at him in shock for a couple of seconds before you burst into laughter.
Jungkook smiled at you bashfully, too embarrassed to respond so you took it upon yourself and pulled another chair out for him to sit in.
The silence that ensued was comforting, neither you nor Jungkook feeling the need to interrupt it with small talk. You observed amusedly the way his eyes seemed to lighten up at the sight of food, the way the corner of them would crinkle in excitement and the small satisfied sounds at the food gracing his taste buds was something you found adorable.
The feeling of contentment that enveloped you was entirely new. As the calmness washed over you, you realised it felt like coming home. Not knowing what to make of it you continued to stare at Jungkook, hoping that the answers were hidden somewhere in his smile. Catching you stare at him mid bite Jungkook stopped and tilted his head in confusion.
“Is there something on my face?” realising you were staring at him for a bit too long you squeaked in embarrassment.
“Ah, no no no I was just lost in thought.” Hoping he would buy that excuse, you offered him a bright smile.
Jungkook had known you were staring at him, and for a brief second, along with the spiciness of the noodles burning his tongue, he felt something smoky intertwine. He wondered if it was the food, but the taste was too distinct. In an instant he could place it, the taste of cigarettes. It was faint but he recognised instantly that ashy fragrance. He wondered if his soulmate was a smoker and if so why would the taste bother him now?
He found out about the soulmate connection years ago and how he was meant to figure out which person was meant for him. Meeting your soulmate was supposed to trigger a taste that was only attributed to them. His trigger happened a few years ago when he started working for the company. To say he was excited was an understatement. He has dreamt of meeting his soulmate for so long and to know that they were in proximity was exhilarating.
In his naive search for them he decided to accept all the requests he has gotten from his colleagues to go on dates. Unfortunately for him, he realised too late that it was not the way to find the one that was meant to be for you. Just like the concept of a soulmate, if it was meant to happen, it would happen. He realised too late and after too many failed dates that he could not rush the process. So he stopped trying. Until that one day when he saw you on the roof of the building, during lunch time. You had no idea that you were not alone, had you been aware of that fact you may have not gotten out your pack of cigarettes. Jungkook could tell by the way your foot tapped the ground impatiently and the way your hands kept grabbing at your hair that you were stressed. He sat in silence not wanting to disturb you as you seemed to be hyping yourself up about something. You didn’t interact that day, but in his head he knew he had found you. The taste of cigarettes on his lips was as strong as the smell wafting through the air.
Normally he would not have been happy about someone who smoked in his vicinity, the harsh smell causing his nose to tingle in an unpleasant fashion. Watching you stress smoke that cigarette with the knowledge that you were his soulmate he found himself unbothered by that knowledge. He knew who you were, your mutual friend being Taehyung. He had introduced you two as soon as you started working for the company.
He will always remember that specific moment, the time when you smiled shyly at him extending your hand. He felt an unusual warmth all throughout his body, but he didn’t realise at the time it was your soulmate bond tying itself together like the ends of two loose strings.
He tried with all his might to figure out whether or not you had the faintest idea about your soulmate connection and for a few months he would insist on taking his break on the floor below just so he could spend time with you. Your lack of interest towards him and his advances told him that you were oblivious. You weren’t treating him differently than you would treat Taehyung and for a while he questioned himself. What if he had been wrong? Instead of keeping up appearances, he let himself slip into the friend's mould. If he had been wrong then it would spare him the embarrassment, if he hadn’t been wrong then it would do him no harm to be friends first.
The memories still fresh in his mind he knew now that you were his soulmate. Still a bit tipsy from the wine he had shared with Taehyung earlier he plucked up the courage and jokingly asked, “Is it because I am handsome?” The shocked look on your face and the silence that ensued were far from comfortable. Slowly Jungkook could feel the heat of the blood rushing to his face and he tried his best to hide his embarrassment with a cough. “I mean-“
At the sight of his wide eyes and red cheeks you started chuckling, not being able to hold your composure for any longer. “It was bad, but you’re adorable.” This time your face turned beet red. You both looked at each other like deer caught into headlights for a few moments, only to dissolve into laughter once again.
That night you talked to Jungkook as if he was an old friend. It felt comfortable to share stories with him, to laugh and to make jokes. It felt good to be out of your head for once. The worries that had plagued your mind completely dissolved in between the laughter and the wine that you were sharing.
At some point during the night you both moved into the corridor in front of your room, both sat on the floor, your back leaning against the wall. Passing the wine bottle in between the two of you the conversation carried on into the darkness of the corridor. The only available source of light coming from the kitchen dimly lighting both of your faces, casting shadows across the floor. You didn’t know when you got so close to him, your skin prickling at the heat emanating from his body. Or when your head dropped onto his broad shoulder, your eyes fluttering, heavy with sleep.
“Y/N” Jungkook whispered and you hummed in response. The familiarity of the scene made him smile. You looked adorable, cuddled into his side, your eyes laden with sleep.
“What if I were to tell you I found my soulmate?” His voice was fearful but his heart was hopeful.
Wide awake now, your head snapped up. “What?”
Even though it was meant to be a whisper your voice reverberated through the corridor. Gasping you stopped to listen for any signs of Taehyung waking up. When the corridor stayed silent you breathed a sigh of relief and cleared your throat. “What?” you looked alarmed at Jungkook.
“Is it that bad? That I found my soulmate?” he looked wounded and you quickly tried to clarify. “Nonono, definitely not bad, just...i am surprised” you looked hesitant. You didn’t know what to make of that information, on one hand you wanted to be happy for him. Not everyone thought like you about the soulmate bond. On the other hand you couldn’t fathom the idea that he may have found his intended love in life. The pain blossomed in your chest and you readily assumed the reason behind that being your aversion towards the concept.
“But what if….” Jungkook stopped. He looked unsure of himself and something pulled at your heartstrings. In an attempt to comfort him you placed your hand on his grasping it gently.
“What if, the soulmate doesn’t want me” he tried again, his voice meek. You gave him a sympathetic look, in a way you could relate to his worries. “There is no way your soulmate wouldn’t want you” you tried to ease his worries, your hand subconsciously tightening its grip on his. Jungkook didn’t respond looking lost in thought and for a moment you thought you had said the wrong thing when you felt his fingers intertwined with yours. The feel of his warmth combined with the softness of his hands cause butterflies to erupt in your stomach. The feeling so foreign to you, but not unwelcome.
“But what if I said my soulmate was you?” he tried again, his grip tightening, as if he was afraid you might slip through his fingers. Your heart stopped, your mind trying to catch up with his words. Taking the risk, Jungkook slowly cupped your face. Leaning towards you until your lips were only one whisper away he stopped. His warm breath fanning over your face, it smelt sweet, tangy. Before you could process your thoughts bumped his lips onto yours in a timid touch. Once, twice, three times, his lips ghosted over yours.
You could not react, the surprise from his confession still wrecking havoc through your body. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his soft lips touch yours with a bit more conviction. You almost allowed yourself to melt into the kiss a small moan leaving the back of your throat. He tasted sweet, just like...you could not place the taste, and yet it seemed so familiar.
You jolted out of the trance pulling away from him entirely, almost sliding yourself on the opposite side of the corridor. Like a deer in headlights you observed his every move, ready to flee the scene if he got too close to you. “Y/N”, Jungkook tried to reach a hand towards you. You flinched away from him and he halted. You looked scared of him. He could feel his heart break in two at the sight of your distress.
“Y/N” he tried again but you would not have it. You were unable to listen to any reasoning, your fight or flight reaction at an all time high. “Please go” you managed to utter.
When he tried to approach you again you let out a sob, the emotions of your revelations catching up with you. “Please” you pleaded, looking at him in despair. Jungkook’s heart dropped. The look on your face told him you wanted him gone, and as much as it hurt him he would listen to you.
Giving you one last pained look he turned around on his heels and walked down the corridor, swallowed by the darkness of the apartment. When with a click of the front door you knew he was gone, and you broke down in tears.
“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Taehyung, fully awake, having heard the front door close and your sobs echoing through the apartment, rushed to your side.
“I fucked up” was the only thing you could mutter over and over again. Taehyung was confused. Looking around him trying to find something that may indicate the reason for your cries, he spotted the wine bottle by your leg. Alarmed, he picked it up. “Fresh notes of strawberries”....
“Y/N are you daft? This has strawberries in it!” he tried to pry your hands away from your face to check for any signs of swelling. Your incessant cries lessened at that. Taehyung could barely discern what you were saying and so instead, he hugged you tightly to his chest letting you cry it out.
“I think I know the taste that has been bugging me” a couple of days after that night, you were in the break room with Taehyung prepared to have your lunch break. You had been successful at avoiding Jungkook, and you had a strong suspicion that he had stayed out of your way on purpose. That lessened your worries, you didn’t know if you would be able to confront him about what had transpired between the two of you.
“Really? What, when and how?” you could tell Taehyung was trying to hide his excitement underneath his grin. You refused to give him more information on the subject, not yet ready to talk about it. But if you underestimated something, it was his ability to put two and two together. “Is it Jungkook?” you stopped dead in your tracks, your heartbeat picking up the pace. At your reaction Taehyung almost grinned, he was happy his two friends had discovered each other. His grin faltered at something behind you.
You tried denying it, telling him he was mistaken. but with the sweet taste of strawberries lingering on your lips, even you knew that there was no mistake.
“Uhh, Y/N, I have to rush, I forgot that I needed to send some documents over” he quickly got up and rushed out of the room. Your bewildered eyes followed his retreat only to come across the man that had just entered the break room. You gasped at the sight of his athletic frame dressed in the dark coloured suit he normally wore for work. He looked handsome.
“Jungkook” you acknowledged him with a nod. He stood there looking at you for a moment, a strange look on his face as if he was prepared to say something but then changed his mind at the last minute. Instead he mirrored your nod and headed towards the coffee machine.
He passed by you in an attempt to reach for the pods that were on the table behind you. To get to them he had to step around your still body. You could not move, still in a daze, your lips tingling from the kiss you two have shared earlier. Your hands were trembling and you tried your hardest to stay calm and not give away the mixed feelings raging through your body. You cleared your throat and looked away in an attempt to hide your blushing face from him. Jungkook took you in silently, he didn’t know what to make of your reaction. Earlier when he had kissed you, your lips moulding together, you pressed tightly against his form, hands raking through his hair. You seemed to be reciprocating the feeling but now, when you were acting like a deer caught in headlights, he was not so sure of himself anymore.
Cautiously he approached you, his gaze unfaltering, he was afraid that if he stepped over the line you would run away from him again. He didn’t know if his heart could take it.
He couldn’t imagine that if you’d figured it out you’d react to him like this. He was waiting for you to realise it was him. However, the blank look on your face and your stiff posture told him otherwise. The soulmate connection urged him to take you in his arms and take the pain away, to make it better. But you didn’t know yet it was him, and he debated whether or not he should tell you. His heart lurched in pain, he didn’t know how to approach the issue. Knowing himself he’d make a stupid comment which would drive you further away. So he settled for actions rather than words.
It felt like an eternity until he reached you, toe to toe, his hand hesitantly cupped your face. You couldn’t move, your breath coming into short pants, your heart flipping inside your chest. For a second you feared you would faint, but the warm touch of his hand kept you grounded and so you focused on that. Closing your eyes you leaned your head onto his hand soaking up the comfort. Even though you were apprehensive about Jungkook and your connection, he has been nothing but kind and understanding to you. His awkward demeanour paired with his confident looks, an endearing combination in your eyes. After that night you two spent together in the corridor of your apartment you understood very well why most women in your company fell in love with him. What you didn’t understand though, was why he would break their hearts like that. Thinking about the rumours once again your eyes snapped open and you pushed his hand away.
“Jungkook,” you cleared your throat. You needed to get your feelings off your chest otherwise you would implode. You wanted to make sure you were both on the same page. You didn’t want to end up heartbroken like any of the other women in the office. Your stomach lurched at that, the thought of him rejecting you like he did those women sending shooting pains through your whole body.
Jungkook’s hands stayed a few centimeters away from your face, his face morphing into anguish. But as soon as it appeared, it was instantly gone, replaced by a smile, the same heartfelt smile he gave you the day you met. The day you had signed your fate. The day the taste of what you could place now as strawberries had invaded your tastebuds. He waited for you to say something, he was not going to push you, but his gentle eyes told you he was going to listen to whatever you decided to tell him. Taking a deep breath in you decided to continue.
“I- am not sure how to put this into words, so I am going to just come out with it.” tears pooled into your eyes at the thought of what you were going to say. He nodded but you could tell he was anxious by the way his hand helplessly dropped to his side and started fiddling with his pants. You blinked the tears away but they just kept coming leaving a hot trail down your face. The pain of losing your parents resurfacing at the memories flooding your head.
“My parents, they uh, died” you stumbled over your words, finding it very difficult to get a grasp over your emotions. You took Jungkook’s silence as a sign to carry on, “my dad passed away in a car accident, after that, my mother she uh” a sob wrecked through your body and you couldn’t carry on. Watching as your whole body broke down in front of him Jungkook decided to throw caution out the window and steadily wrapped his arms around you. In an instant you relaxed, the warmth and the comfort provided by your soulmate embracing you calmed you down enough for you to carry on with your story.
“My mother, she died heartbroken three years after my father” you sniffled embarrassed at the snot you could see on his shirt. Trying to pull yourself away from him you found yourself nose to chest with him as he tightened his grip on you. You didn’t have the strength to fight against his hold.
“Jungkook,” you pleaded, slumping against him, your forehead resting on his warm chest. In that position you could hear his heartbeat, the strong thump reverberating through you. The knowledge that you were about to break that rhythm pained you. “I don’t want to have a soulmate.” A fresh wave of tears soaked through his shirt. Jungkook felt as if your sobs had not only penetrated the material but also his heart, the coldness that gripped him rendering him speechless.
Despite the unbearable ache that your words have caused him, he remembered that you were also suffering. He decided that his pain was irrelevant to yours, the soulmate bond that forged between the two of you pushing him to alleviate your sorrow and forget about his own.
“Y/N” his voice sounded foreign to him, the anguish seeping through. He cleared his throat and tightened his grip on you, trapping your arms in between the two of you. You knew you were being selfish, your hard words chipping away at his heart. Despite that he was being patient and understanding, lending you the last of his strength. “Don’t, please” was his last attempt at asking you not to crush him. A plea followed by a soft kiss on the top of your head, his own tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.
His words pierced through you, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. It felt as if someone had placed a weighted lead over your heart. Your mind was fighting against the soul’s desire to mould together as one, to form that bond fully. But by doing so, you were fighting against the laws of the soulmate connection, the broken promise of being together forever caused you to feel agony like never before. Desperate, you managed to free your hands and wrap them around him, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back in an attempt to steady yourself. You let the pain course through you, letting Jungkook’s soft cries in your hair be a reminder of your self-serving fears. His breath was hot on the crown of your hair, his breath coming out in broken gasps and you finally understood.
This is what your mother had experienced. This is the pain she must have gone through when your father was gone. Only, you were voluntarily putting yourself and him through it.
You felt despicable, but most importantly, you were terrified. Thoughts running through your head, scenarios in which you and him were bonded and living a happy life, only for it to be swept from under you. You didn’t think you could bear that, but you knew that what you were doing now was not right either. There was no such thing as a bandaid when it came to a soulmate bond. You would suffer forever and it never got easier.
“Y/N, please talk to me.” Jungkook’s voice wavered but his tears had stopped. He was doing his best to stay strong for you. Burying your head into his inviting shoulder you inhaled his scent, it was something sweet. Sweet like that night when you kissed, that significant night when you realised he was yours and you were his. Trying to recall the happiness that you felt when you two kissed you whispered, “I’m afraid.”
Jungkook had never felt more helpless. Hearing you admit this felt even more painful than you rejecting the soulmate bond. He could do very little to alleviate your worries, he couldn’t promise you forever because he himself had no power over the future, but he could promise you that he would try his best to be there until it wasn’t possible anymore.
“I can’t promise you that we will last forever, but I can promise you that as long as we are alive and have a forever to fight for I will do my best to reach it” his soft words brushed through your hair, the hand on your back tightening its hold. Fresh tears spilled from your eyes, the hot trail competing with the warmth that was growing in your chest. His words were not enough to alleviate your worries, but they were enough to pacify the inner battle between your soul and your heart.
“Hey,” he gently grabbed your shoulders, breaking your hold on him. With some distance now in between the two of you, it was easier to look at him. Your heart broke at the sight of the tears silently running down his face, a contrast to the small reassuring smile he was offering you. If not for the pain in his eyes you would have thought he was crying for you only. However, his eyes spoke of agony for two. The relationship that was meant to be, the relationship that your souls craved and you had power over. The understanding encouragement he was offering told you that he would take whatever you decided. If your decision was to not pursue this, he would accept it and never question it. With this in mind you took a deep breath in, your hands hesitantly reaching out and wiping away at the trail of tears.
“I am afraid” you stopped glancing away from him for a split second. Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat anticipating your next words. You had the power to make him or break him, his heart in your hands. With your next exhale, you let all your worries out, your stance visibly relaxing.
“But I am not afraid to fight for a future forever, with you.”
Main Masterlist
#jeon jungkook fluff#bangtansummerbingo#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#bangtanarmynet#bangtaninn#btshoneyhive#btsgoldnet#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#soulmate#soulmate au#angst#fic#junkook#bts fic#fiction
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Frigid Heart Ch. 3
F!reader x Bi-Han
You meet the girls!
@miss-nori85 @whitelotusfighter @icy-spicy@crazytxgradstudent @d-taslim @bihansthot @legends-of-apex @lillikue @missroro
Lily huffed as her Master just sat there with one of his many concubines on his lap. His hand was resting between her thighs, enjoying the company. He was teasing the poor girl. Rose--this particular concubine--had looked to Lily with a devilish grin. Rose knew what she was doing, and she did it well. Lily was too old to bear any more of the Grandmaster’s children. Lily had heard the rumors, of course she did. But that’s all they were: rumors. The Grandmaster would never replace Lily. Lily simply rolled her eyes at the girl. Lily had been here longer. Lily had seen concubines come and go. Rose would be tossed aside just as the others.
“Did you not hear me?” Lily spoke up.
The Grandmaster sighed and rested his lips in the crook of Rose’s neck for a second before lifting his head and looking over to his oldest, and most loyal concubine. “Yes, Lily. I did. Must you bother me with this now?”
“He handed her a blade! A Lin Kuei blade!” Lily shouted.
“I heard you, dearest,” He’d said again.
“It doesn’t bother you?!”
“It is hardly the first time a servant has wielded such a weapon…” His eyes stared into her own. Lily straightened.
“This is different. The girl is obviously not loyal to the Lin Kuei.”
“I’m sure Sub-Zero knows what he is doing,” he said, turning his attention back to Rose. The young woman gasped as his hand slipped higher between her thighs. He chuckled at her reaction.
Lily watched as Rose squirmed on the Grandmaster’s lap. “And if this girl decides to kill Sub-Zero?”
He broke a kiss with Rose. “Fine,” he sighed. Obviously Lily wasn’t going to let it go. “Have someone keep an eye on her. If she does anything suspicious, dispose of her.”
Lily let a breath go.
“Does that please you, dearest?” He looked back over to Lily.
She bowed her head gratefully. “Yes, my love.”
“Good. Now, go tell the guards to keep the doors closed.” He grinned to Lily, then turned his attention back to a mewling Rose. Even in his old age, he could make his girls beg.
Your hand shook as you dabbed at Bi-Han’s cheek. His skin was so cold… He was sitting at the table, head tilted back for you. He seemed relaxed, but you… You were still convinced he was about to cut your hand off for what you did.
His eyes opened when he felt the cloth tremble over the cut. His brown eyes shifted to your terrified face. Bi-Han didn’t react to it for a moment, he just let you work through your fear. But when it was evident that you weren’t going to stop shaking, he decided to speak up.
“Your hand is shaking,” he told you.
You swallowed a lump in your throat and tried to fight your trembling, but it was no use. “Yes. My apologies, Master,” You answered sheepishly.
“Your old masters beat you, didn’t they?” He said it so easy, as if it was a common occurrence. You supposed it was. It certainly was back home--your former home. You nodded as you looked away and rinsed the cloth in a bowl of hot water. “A shame,” he said.
A shame? Your brows knotted at the idea of him thinking so. A Master who didn’t beat their servant?
“You have the heart of a warrior. You should be treated as one.”
Your eyes snapped over to his face. His eyes had closed again. Your heart skipped a beat. He was teasing you. He had to be. You mentally shook your head as you wiped the blood from his cheek. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you said timidly. “I’m just a servant.”
His lips pulled into a smirk. “Just a servant…” He tried to nod, but you gripped his chin to keep his head still as you finished cleaning his cheek. He chuckled at being denied his own movement, but didn’t fight you.
You picked up the readied needle and thread from a bowl of baiju. At least your hand had stopped shaking.
He didn’t even flinch as you pushed the needle through his skin. Bi-Han seemed to not even feel it as you went about stitching his wound closed. Bi-Han had opened his eyes to watch your face--To watch how closely you watched your own hand. You had such unwavering focus. He was sure you hadn’t noticed him watching you. Your cheeks hadn’t flushed that shade of red yet. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing.
He did not need you to stitch his cheek. He could have taken care of that himself with a bit of ice. But you caring for it was more interesting. What would you do? Would you simply tend to the wound, or would you try and kill him? He wouldn’t have blamed you for attempting to kill him. He did lead an attack on your village. And he had captured you. He was sure he deserved at least death for what he’d done to you… And yet, you didn’t make any effort to end his life. Even when you fought him earlier, he'd noticed that you were holding back, scared to hurt him. And when you did? You’d cowered like a dog.
Bi-Han grinned suddenly at the thought. That caught your attention, only because it caused his cheek to move. Your brows knotted at his grin. Your eyes shifted up to his. You caught his brown eyes with your own. Your face grew hot. “What?...” You asked, hand starting to shake again. Did you do something wrong? Did you hurt him again?
It seemed all he had to do was look at you to get you to shake. He couldn’t help but laugh. You froze and looked away. “Finish up and go back to doing laundry,” he told you, grin still stretched across his face. Your jaw stiffened as you looked back to his cheek and continued stitching it.
________________________________________
You were sore the next day. Fighting your new Master had strained your muscles. He’d had you at it all day. And today, chores were slow going.
A knock at the door caught your attention. You made your way to it and cracked the door open just enough to peek out.
Tundra.
You straightened and sucked in a sharp breath before pulling the door completely open and bowing your head to your Master’s brother.
Tundra looked you over for a moment, noticing a few new scars on your face as your head came back up. From yesterday, no doubt. No matter. “Is he up?” Tundra asked.
You nodded and stepped aside for him. “The kitchen,” you answered. “Please,” You gestured for him to go on ahead. He walked right past you, and you were surprised to see a woman about your age follow him in.
Tundra’s own servant, no doubt. You offered her a warm smile, which she kindly returned.
“My name is Snowflake,” she said. Snowflake was a pretty young woman. Her clothes were very clean… pristine. Her skin was flawless. You wondered what kind of girl she was… Servant? Comfort Woman?
You almost introduced yourself with the name your parents had gave you, but caught yourself. Bi-Han still hadn’t given you a name. “I… haven’t been given a name.” Yet, hopefully.
Snowflake frowned, she pulled her hands from her sleeves and took yours gently. Even her hands were flawless. She was no servant. She couldn’t be. It didn’t look like she’d ever worked a day in her life. Comfort Woman. She must have been. “I’m sure he’ll think of one soon enough.”
Snowflake let go of your hands and turned to close the door. You could hear Kuai and Bi-Han talking in the kitchen. She turned back to you. “How have you been adjusting?”
You weren’t sure how to answer that. All things considered, you were fine. Despite yesterday’s fighting, you were generally left alone. Things could definitely be worse. “I’m… well enough.”
Her smile grew. “That’s good.” She looked around. “You did a nice job cleaning his mess.”
Your brows knotted. “You knew about it?”
She hid a laugh behind her sleeve. “Oh. Yes. I’ve been asked to clean his mess quite a few times.”
“You?” You looked at her in disbelief. It was hard to picture her working. “But you… You don’t look like that type of servant.”
“Oh?” She beamed with the compliment. “Thank you. I try to keep myself as beautiful as I can manage. It makes things easier.”
So, Lily was right. The attractive girls did have it easier here. “How do you manage that?”
You’d never taken much care in your appearance. Your old masters didn’t mention it. They seemed pleased with you as you were… but now you were curious. Lily did say you were gifted with beauty…
“Oh! No one must have told you!” Snowflake clasped her hands in excitement. “The hot springs!”
You blinked at her. “Hot… springs?”
“Yes!”
“What are hot springs?”
Snowflake looked at you, dumbfounded. “You’d never been to a hot spring?”
You shook your head.
She gasped and took your hand, leading you to the kitchen where the two brothers were discussing a coming mission. When they looked up at the two of you, she bowed her head. You as well.
“Master, may I take her to the hot spring?” She asked Kuai. He lifted a brow, then looked to his brother. Bi-Han looked from Kuai, to Snowflake, then finally to your red face as you fought off the embarrassment of Snowflake asking to take you elsewhere.
“Are you finished around here?” Bi-Han asked.
You shook your head. You caught Snowflake frown out the corner of your eye. “No, Master. I still have things to do.”
Bi-Han looked to Snowflake. “Bring her back before dinner. She’ll have plenty of time to finish.”
Snowflake beamed again. She bowed her head gratefully, then looked to Kuai. “Master?”
Kuai nodded with a grin and waved her off. It’d give the two brothers some privacy to discuss the mission anyway.
With another pull, you were being led through the cabin and out the front door. “You’re going to love it!” She told you as she hurried you through the courtyard.
Not far from the village there was a small hill with a wide trail and stairs leading up. Guards were posted along the way. They watched you and Snowflake, but she paid them no mind as she led you up the stairs. At the top sat a large, single level wooden building. Steam was escaping through the door. She pulled you right in.
Humid heat hit you like a stone wall. The building’s walls surrounded pools of hot water that bubbled from the ground. There were already other women enjoying the springs, and one group in particular perked up when they noticed Snowflake. She smiled to them as she pulled you over to them.
“Snowflake! Who’s your new friend?” One asked as she moved to the edge of the pool.
“This is Sub-Zero’s new servant,” Snowflake introduced you.
The group collectively gasped and you suddenly felt on the spot, like something more important than you were.
“Oooh! How is he?!” one asked.
“Um…” You weren’t sure how to answer that. Snowflake had finally let go of your hand and began slipping out of her hanfu. You glanced to a guard not far from you, who didn’t bother to hide his wandering eyes.
“Come in! The water’s so hot!” Another said. You watched as Snowflake stepped in, then looked back at you with a smile.
This was different. This was very different from what you were used to. There were bathhouses in your old clan’s village, but nothing like this… nothing so… open.
Snowflake frowned as you just stood there. “It’s alright.” She then caught you glancing to the guard. “Oh. Don’t worry about him. He can’t touch us.”
Your brows knotted.
Another spoke up. “They’re forbidden to.”
“Unless the servant is theirs.” A third one added.
Well… if that was the case. You cautiously slipped out of your hanfu and folded it neatly, putting it aside before you climbed down into the water.
You gasped. The water really was hot! It didn’t burn, but your chilled skin broke into goosebumps as you slowly sunk down. The water came up to your chest.
“See? It’s nice.” Snowflake told you and you nodded timidly, staying close to the edge.
“So what’s he like?” that one servant asked again. “He’s never had a servant before.”
“He’s… fine. I guess,” You answered.
“Did he give you a name yet?” another asked.
You shook your head.
Some pouted. Some smiled.
“I’m Margita,” One introduced. And like the others, she was beautiful. She had blue eyes and brown hair. She obviously wasn’t from around here. “I’m Smoke’s.”
Smoke. You remembered the man Bi-Han had called Smoke while you were being brought to the village. But you really didn’t have a face to go with the armor. Only his eyes had been visible… You actually didn’t know what any of them looked like except for Bi-Han and Kuai. But Smoke… He was the one in the black armor. You nodded.
“I’m Suki,” another spoke. She had tanned skin and a rather impressive bust. “I’m one of Sektor’s.” You nodded. You knew that name too.
“Cho,” The one next to her said. “Sektor’s.” She was getting her hair braided and weaved with red flowers. She also had a noticeable bust. Sektor seemed to have a preference.
The one braiding Cho’s hair smiled over to you. She had the darkest skin you’d ever seen. It was beautiful. “My name is Thema. I’m Cyrax’s.” You knew the name Cyrax too. He also had dark skin. You’d seen it around his eyes and on his arms. You nodded.
And last but not least, Snowflake. She smiled to you. “Welcome to the family,” She joked.
“Hardly a family,” Cho said, picking at her nails.
“Well, her and Snowflake are almost related,” Suki reasoned. “Their Masters are brothers.”
Cho gave a small agreeing nod.
“So what type of girl are you?” Margita asked you curiously. Suddenly all eyes were on you again.
“Oh… Um… Just a servant. I think,” you answered. You weren’t really sure what Bi-Han had planned for you.
Cho frowned, but Suki swatted at her. They argued in a language you weren’t familiar enough with to understand.
“Don’t mind them. They fight about everything,” Thema said with a roll of her eyes. She finished Cho’s braid and draped it over her shoulder. Cho smiled as she lifted it to admire it.
“What language is that?” you asked.
“Japanese,” Suki answered. “We were bought from our parents when Sektor was in Japan for a mission.”
“You two… were bought?” You asked in disbelief.
“Mhm,” Suki nodded.
“Our parents were poor. They sold us to afford live stock for their farm,” Cho added, then shrugged as if it was no big deal.
“How long have you two been here?” You asked.
“Seven years,” Suki answered.
“Were… were all of you bought?” You asked, looking to the other three.
They shook their heads.
“My father gave me to Cyrax,” Thema said. “After he killed my father’s rival.”
“Smoke saved me from being executed,” Margita said.
“Executed?” You asked.
“I was caught stealing in my home village,” Margita told you.
“Oh.” Your brows knotted at her before you looked to Snowflake. She was relaxing back in the water.
“I was born here,” she told you. “I’m not sure who my parents are. I was raised in the palace.”
“Probably some lowly assassin,” Cho said, earning an agreeing nod from Suki.
Snowflake shrugged. She didn’t seem bothered by it.
“What about you?” Margita asked you.
“Sub-Zero captured me in my village. I was a servant in the Snow Ninja clan,” you answered.
“So that’s where you learned to fight,” Snowflake thought aloud.
You looked to her.
“Wait, that was you?!” Margita asked in disbelief. “I heard a servant had been fighting with Sub-Zero.”
The others now gave you their full attention again.
Your face turned red. “Oh. No. No. It’s not what you think,” you tried to defend yourself. “He asked me to.”
“He did?” Thema asked.
“And she’s good too!” Snowflake declared, much to your dismay. “He handed her a sword and they fought. And she ended up cutting his cheek!”
Oh, god, Snowflake, please shut up, you thought frantically and sunk down into the water in a futile attempt to hide away.
“You did?!” Margita asked, horrified. “How… How are you alive?”
You groaned as you sunk deeper, letting the water go over your head. Snowflake was grinning.
#mortal kombat#mortal kombat 2021#mortal kombat fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#mk fanfic#mk fanfiction#sub-zero#bi-han#lin kuei#bi-han x reader#reader x bi-han#sub-zero x reader#reader x sub-zero#joe taslim#reader insert
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txt reactions. || 👾👾
as dads... 👨🏻🍼
a/n; i’m sorryyy i’ve been in a fluffy mood lately I haven’t posted smut in a while but I promise I will! enjoy this though <3
soobin -
bro, he’s the clueless dad
doesn’t know anything about being a parent. is lazy about preparing to be a dad but he has a few tricks up his sleeve
everything would fluster the hell out of him. when the baby poops, when the baby pees, when they baby pukes, or when the baby cries he’d get surprised about it every single time as if it doesn’t happen
you know those type of dads where everything is literally a learning moment for them? yes, that’s soobin
is a dorky dad
his children will most likely own him, he won’t own his children
type of dad that gets beat up by his toddler kids for absolutely nothing
they walk in and kick him in the shin while he’s cooking
or pull his hair while he’s trying to read to them before bed
feel like his daughter would be the exact replica of him like seriously, would have his his whole entire face and matching dimples
with that being said, is an absolute sucker for his daughter
gives her anything she wants even if she’s a spoiled brat he’s scared to say no
needs his wife to teach him how to put his foot down
i feel like soobin’s son would be wild asf lmao
repeats every inappropriate thing that soobin says
“daddy? what does bullshit mean?”.
will scold his kids if they’re acting too wild but they never listen to him so it doesn’t really matter
again, he needs his wife to help discipline the kids
i know it can be quite common for parents of color (minorities) to hit their children but in my opinion I don’t really think soobin would hit his kids all that much
he would pay a lot of attention to them though and know them like the back of his hand but he can’t really control the shit that goes on in his wild household
his wife will mainly come home every night to a messy kitchen and messy living room with soobin passed out on the couch and the kids curled on top of him snoring
all in all he loves them though, they’re his babies <3
yeonjun --
honestly, yeonjun is a pretty attentive father
i think he would be veryyyyy playful and affectionate
would want to do EVERYTHING with the baby
want to cook, want to clean, want to watch tv, want to talk to him/her and hold them all the time
has separation anxiety when his children are away from him for too long
even if he’s at work he’ll face time his wife often just so he can see the baby
if he takes his kids to the park he’s literally watching their every move
will still hug and kiss them on their cheeks and forehead no matter how old they get
extremely overprotective
no really, don’t touch yeonjun’s babies unless you want to die
protects his daughter from anyone that tries to date her
i think yeonjun’s son would most likely pick up one of his talents and his daughter will pick up the other
his son can sing and his daughter could dance, vice versa
encourages them to follow their dreams
supports anything and EVERYTHING they
definitely documents everything lmao, even if it’s small he’ll record or take a picture
will make a photo album of all of his children’s achievements
is the type of dad that’s always talking about his kids
literally fr--he mentions them in every conversation
he’s just a proud dad alright? don’t judge him
i think yeonjun’s children would be extremely well behaved and well kept
mostly because yeonjun doesn’t play around LMAO
nah fr, he’s a dad that knows how to scold and punish. his kids know better than to cross him
gives his kids anything they want
takes them on vacations allllll the time
universal studios, disney world, legoland, you name it and he already booked the trip
honestly the type of dad that’s always somewhere having fun with his kids and posting photos on social media
is IN LOVE with being a dad
beomgyu --
lmao beomie is the cool dad
literally will talk to his baby like he/she is grown
“i’m tired of this show. you want to watch netflix? big mouth has a new episode”.
“can you stop crying? that’s weird. all you did was pee. you’re acting you’re a baby or something”.
“why don’t you just use words? tell me when you’re hungry. stop acting like you can’t talk”. (his baby is literally 2 months old)
loves sleeping with his babies the most. loves when they cuddle with him in bed and just fall asleep in his arms and on his chest
plays with them all the time, chasing them around the house playing laser tag or ‘the floor is lava’ lmao
loves playing video games with them, doesn’t let them win just because they’re young
will literally beat them in every game with no remorse, he just tells them they have to learn how to beat him
when they’re older he’ll literally let them do whatever they want
“dad can I go to a party?”. “sure whatever”.
“dad I’m going to a club with my friends”. “alright. be safe”.
“dad I think I’m pregnant”. “damn how that happen? I hope your baby’s father isn’t ugly tbh”.
is the type of dad that will lie to his wife about their children’s bad grades to save their asses
always sugar coats the parent teacher conferences to his wife, telling her that they’re the star students (even if they’re bad as hell)
laughs when one of his kids curse
teaches them the cheat codes to getting what they want in life
his kids ADORE him lmfao
is the most understanding and caring dad there is
taehyun --
strict dad who is a good listener lmao
i think taehyun would be more prepared when he knows he’s about to be a parent. of course he knows he doesn’t know everything but this man would be so prepared lmao
literally would do research on different things just to try and get a better understanding of how children’s minds work
his kids would be baby geniuses please
his daughter would be playing mozart on the piano at the age of two
his son would be a mathematician at four
LMAO i feel like his kids would be smart and mean ASF
literally the bougie kids at school with the latest clothes and shoes and don’t want to associate with the dumber kids
spoiled ROTTEN by taehyun will literally call him for the smallest inconvenience
“dad can you put more money on my credit card? I’m feeling sad today”
“dad I need a spa day”.
and yes taehyun will do these things for them at the drop of a dime
i feel like he’s the type of dad that knows everything, literally can’t outsmart him
if one of his children lies he already knows that they’re lying and already has evidence to prove it
I don’t think any of his children would ever lie to him though lmao taehyun don’t play that shit
type of dad that will allow his spoiled ass kids to live in his house for as long as they want without requiring them to move out
absolutely weak for them
will set up bank accounts and college funds for them
literally does EVERYTHING for them i cannot stress this ENOUGH
will buy their first apartment if they want it
will buy them their first cars
taehyun’s kids : part time job? what’s that?
type of dad that his kids can talk about anything and everything with and they love him for it
can be a crackhead dad too, will do the craziest shit to make his kids laugh
his kids are his world <3
kai --
lmfao i feel like kai is the fine line between being prepared and not knowing what the fuck to do every second
literally needs his wife because he’ll get anxiety trying to make big decisions for them
i think he would be at his prime parenting during the toddler stage since he has a lot of energy. he would bring his kids to trampoline parks and bounce house places allllll the time
his kids’ fondest childhood memories would be somewhere in a bounce house jumping and having fun with their dad
would also love turning on a soft playlist and have coloring sessions with them
is the type to make his kids dress like him, oversized sweaters, baggy jeans and cute sneakers
would buy his kids matching outfits and toys
also would be big on accessories i think. would love buying them cute backpacks, lunchboxes, and pens and pencils lmao
i think kai’s children would be chaotic as helllllllllllll
extremely hyperactive and don’t know the concept of bedtime
has frequent food fights in the kitchen
whenever they take a bath they get suds all over the floor
they eat and nap in the kitchen cabinets even though kai specifically told them not to do that
kids would be EXTREMELY cute so it would always be hard for kai to scold them
his version of scolding is literally, “hey don’t do that”. will never yell or hit
can never find a babysitter for when him and his wife have date nights because his children are always on a rampage
and when they do have do have date nights his children always find a way to facetime him fifteen hundred times about nothing
i think out of all kids, kai’s kids would be the baddest ones in school just because of the contrast lmfaoo
his son draws curse words on his desk
his daughter gets into fights all the time
parent teacher conferences are the funniest because kai is smiling no matter how bad the teacher says his kids are
literally cannot control them LMAO
but they’re so funny and sweet to him he can’t help but become weak for them
when they’re older though I feel like they’ll mellow out only a little but still kinda rebellious
kai is a positive dad who tries his absolute best lmao but he loves them with all his heart <3
#txt#tomorrow by together#yeonjun#yeonjun fluff#soobin#soobin fluff#beomgyu#beomgyu fluff#taehyun#taehyun fluff#heuning kai#heuning kai fluff
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I’ve been thinking about this for a while, do you think Charles,Barbara, Eugenia and Anna were close? Anna maybe less because she’s closer in age to the merry thieves set and she probably ghosted Charles after the Ariadne engagement. Would you consider a fic of them all growing up, starting with them 4 as little kids and then slowly becoming teens and adults and then dealing with Barbara’s death. I think it would be a fun idea since nobody ever considers them to be a older merry thieves.
You can thank my social anxiety for this one bc I stress wrote it in school 🙃
TW: panic attacks, death
Title: When we were young
Characters: Barbara Lightwood, Anna Lightwood, Eugenia Lightwood, Cecily Lightwood, Gabriel Lightwood, Alexander Lightwood, Sophie Lightwood, Gideon Lightwood
Anna was sitting by the fire when Charles came into the room. She hated him. She truly did. But, somehow, at that moment, she felt strange. He looked at her and it took her many years back, to when they weren’t exactly friends, but they were far from what they are now to each other.
…
“And that was how Consul Wentworth fixed the crisis of 1687.” Charles said with a satisfied smile to himself.
The Lightwood girls were his audience. Well, sort of. Eugenia’s cheek was resting on her fist, squishing the right side of her face as her lidded eyes approached shutting completely. Anna was slumped against Eugenia, her lips pressed together tightly and her eyes opened wide, staring at a fixed spot on the floor. Their luminous dark blue glittered in the witchlight, looking exquisitely uncanny. Barbara was mid-yawn, leaning on the leg of a sofa.
“Wow, Charles. Thanks for the history lesson.” Eugenia said, monotonously. It was evident that she’d inherited her mother’s sass from the day she was born, when Barbara had woken her up by exclaiming at the sight of her newborn sister, and Genie responded by pulling her sister’s hair.
“Oh, and in 1690-“
“NO!” All three Lightwood daughters shrieked.
“I’m still not done, though.” Said Charles.
“Yes, you are.” Eugenia said, standing up and settling the matter. “We are positively bored. There is absolutely nothing to do except listen to Charles talk about politics, and if those are the only two options, frankly, I’d rather be bored.”
Charles crossed his arms. “Being an intellect is not boring.”
Little two year old Anna looked at him with one eyebrow raised.
“I swear, Thomas is having a better time than we are,” Eugenia said glaring at to where their parents were, with the tiny, almost invisible baby nestled in Gideon’s arms, his fingers wrapped around Sophie's thumb. The parents were all laughing about something, which made Eugenia scowl even more.
“To be an adult.” Barbara said, with a martyred sigh.
“We needn’t be adults to have fun.” Charles said.
“I suppose you’re going to torture us with more political trivia.”
“No,” Charles said. “I was going to suggest we go through the attic.”
The girls looked up at this and Charles smirked, clearly proud of himself at having come up with a good idea. For once.
“What is in the attic?”
Charles shrugged. “I don’t know, but there’s probably strange and obscure things. There’s a lot of that kind of stuff in our house.”
Barbara and Eugenia exchanged a look before the eldest Lightwood sister turned to him.
“We shall go and discover this mysterious attic you speak of.”
…
“What could this even be?” Barbara said, holding up a loose gear-like contraption.
“Papa sometimes builds things out of clockwork.” Charles said, sitting cross legged. “Or, he used to at least.”
“That’s…”
Genie and Charles looked at Barbara as she trailed off.
“Nevermind, I have no comment.”
Charles nodded as though that was a common reaction people had in terms of his father’s experiments.
They rummaged through boxes upon boxes, finding momentos they didn’t understand such as papers upon papers of things that said many difficult words. They could distinguish a couple of words such as “infernal” and “devices”, however there were many that made no sense to them.
“What is a Mortmain?” Asked Genie.
“I think it’s an undead horse or something along those lines,” said Charles.
“Oh,” said Eugenia. “That’s disgusting.”
“Quite,” agreed Barbara.
Anna was toddling around the room, giggling. She almost tripped over a loose floorboard, and would have, had Charles not reached out and grabbed a hold of the back of her dress.
“This is too dangerous for a small child like Anna,” Barbara said, ever the mother-goose. “I shall take her downstairs before she hurts herself.”
Anna protested at first, but acquiesced once Barbara bribed her with the promise of dessert.
…
“What are you doing here?” Anna asked.
He looked up, his green eyes meeting her blue ones.
…
Charles remembered that day like it was just yesterday.
He and Eugenia had stayed behind rifling through boxes, which wasn’t unwelcome, as Eugenia and Charles had an easy, lighthearted and, at times, profound, friendship. Despite their age gap, they enjoyed each other’s company, though neither could say why. Perhaps, it was simply because they mocked each other. Or perhaps, it was sometimes they would occasionally talk about things such as philosophy, and whether what they were seeing was true, or the world was just a figment of their imaginations. Or a mixture of the two; they’d never really discussed it.
Eugenia surprised him when she said, “do you ever feel… different from your parents?”
Charles furrowed his brows, “in what aspect?”
“Love.”
“Have you a suitor?” Charles inquired, intrigued.
“No. Actually, that was my question. I find that, sometimes, I don’t only enjoy the idea of a male suitor, but perhaps, I also enjoy the company of a woman. Perhaps.” She pressed her lips together tightly, as if forcing herself to stop speaking.
Charles looked at her, his bright green eyes wide. “I-um-…”
“But I’m not sure, of course.” Eugenia blurted out. “It’s not as if shadowhunters are precisely fond of that particular preference or-“
“Do you really think they wouldn’t like it?” Charles asked, softly. “Do you believe they will reject those who are like that?”
Eugenia looked down. “I’m afraid I’m most sure of it.”
Charles had then realized that he couldn’t have both. There was no way around it.
He knew his parents were happy and that love made them complete. However, they didn’t have to choose. They could be married and the idea wouldn’t affect their respective occupations. Charles, on the other hand, couldn’t be Consul and have the kind of love he wanted. He almost resented them because of it. They were able to do what they loved and nobody forced them to pick between one or the other.
It was unfair. So incredibly unfair.
“I guess you better get rid of your feelings towards women than.” He said simply, “unless you’re willing to let something as simple as love get in the way of your dreams.”
“Dreams?” Eugenia asked, looking confused and a tiny bit hurt.
But Charles got up to go back downstairs to his parents, aunts and uncles.
…
Charles slumped down in a chair and dug his fingers into his hair.
“She was just here.” He said quietly. “Babs, was just here.”
Anna felt sudden rage. “You are not allowed to mourn her.”
Charles looked up. “Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean I can’t be sad. She was my cousin too. Perhaps not by blood, but she was still a cousin.” He pressed his lips together angrily and stared fixedly at the witchlight stone that was illuminating the room.
Anna, however, couldn’t find it in her to be diplomatic; she got up and left the room.
…
Anna had never seen Eugenia look this way. She was always put together, posh. But now, she looked hollow. Like a shell of who she used to be. Anna wanted to go up to her, to say something, but she felt lost for words. What did you tell someone who lost a dear sister? If Anna felt sorrow, she couldn’t imagine what Eugenia was feeling.
Her head was tilted upwards, looking up at the pyre where the corpse of her sister lay. Tears were streaming down her face, rolling down her cheeks, throat and chest, leaving streaks on her face that looked like the roots of a tree.
Sophie had her arm around her daughter. The sight of the four of them was very strange. There was a gap missing where Barbara should have been. She suddenly felt a hand take hold of her own. She looked to her right and saw her mother looking straight ahead, squeezing her daughter’s hand. Her father was looking down, holding Alex. Her baby brother was one of the few who looked up at the cousin who’d taught him to play simple songs on the piano, and had always let him sleep in her arms on New Year's eve.
She didn’t know what he must have been thinking now, staring up at the pyre.
Though, to be fair, she didn’t quite know what to think herself, as she looked up at the cousin who’s life was cut far too short.
…
Eugenia’s body didn’t feel like her own. She hadn’t felt this body was her own for a while. Even since Augustus and the secret she’d kept to herself.
This was somehow worse. To be torn away from your best friend, whom you’d shared a room with almost your entire life. Eugenia didn’t know how to live in a world without Barbara. Sometimes, in the rare moments when she forgot about her sadness, she’d call her sister’s name, ready to tell her about what had happened in her novel. Or find herself walking to Barbara’s room without thinking and then staring blankly at the door that has remained shut ever since the day she passed away.
A couple of weeks ago, she’d found a letter Barbara had sent her when she’d been in Idris. It was in between her copy of Jane Eyre. She couldn’t bring herself to read it in its entirety, but she stared at the signature blankly.
Suddenly, she got the urge to run. So she ran. That’s how, an hour later, she’d gotten a small tattoo under her ankle that said “Sincerely, your favorite sister Babs.”
It felt right to have Bab’s signature there, we’re only she could see. It made her feel accompanied everywhere she went, even though nobody else could see.
Now, looking up at the pyre, her face tight from tears she’d left to dry, her mother weeping silently, she could almost imagine that her sister was there, simply caught in a slumber and that she’d wake up at any moment and come tumbling down, throwing herself in Eugenia’s arms.
Any moment now, she thought when the pyre burst into flames.
“Ave atque vale, Barbara Lightwood.” The crowd said at once.
Eugenia shook her head and swayed on her feet. Her breathing became heavy and her fingers began prickling. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. No nononono.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, vaguely that it was her father’s.
Not Barbara.
Not Babs.
“Calm down, Genie.”
Not her sister. Her sister couldn’t possibly be up there.
“Breathe Eugenia.”
She wanted to scream that she couldn’t, that she’d never breathe again, as long as her sister wasn’t breathing with her. Why did she have to live? She would have much preferred that Barbara live in her stead.
The world was numb and fractured, never to be fixed again.
…
(Don’t worry, Gideon was able to help Genie after the fic ends bc he’s the best dad)
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#tsc#tlh#eugenia lightwood#barbara lightwood#charles buford fairchild#gabriel lightwood#anna lightwood#cecily lightwood#cecily herondale#tlh fanfic#tlh fanfiction#the last hours#tid#sophie lightwood#gideon lightwood
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The Domestics
Alistair runs into an older elven woman on the battlements, watching the children play in the Skyhold courtyard below. They get to talking: isn't it nice that the mages get to keep their children now? Then, in the course of the conversation, Alistair figures it out.
Alistair says, “I always wondered. What my life would’ve been like, if she could’ve kept me. I always kinda knew she didn’t have a choice. King’s bastards are the king’s, not whoever carried them. If she were a servant and if I’d end up in the kitchens or, better yet, the dairy. I really like cheese. But if she were a mage, I guess we never had any of that. Unless she ran away.”
Read on Archive of Our Own here.
It’s snowing at Skyhold, which delays Alistair’s plans by a day. Anora cuts him loose, locking herself in the ambassador’s heated room with her furs, and he wishes he could change into less fine clothes and join the children in their snowball fight, or wander into the kitchens and see if he can sweet-talk the cook into giving him something hot and sweet to drink. He’s king, so he could ask for all the chocolate in Seheron, and doubtless the Inquisition would try to give it to him.
He walks the battlements so less people will see him and watches the battle in the courtyard below. The Inquisitor’s children seem to have made common cause with the servants’ kids against the visiting nobility; honestly it’s just a relief to see that it isn’t human against elf. Alistair, a tad self-conscious, touches his right ear. An older elf is watching them, smiling. Alistair wonders if she’s the mother of one of them below.
“Which one’s yours?” Alistair asks.
The woman says, “I’m only watching them for the Inquisitor. I’m their guard.” She’s got short black hair, threaded with silver, but her eyes are lively enough. She’s wearing green robes with a bit of Dalish-looking embroidery at the ends of her sleeves. She’s got an Orlesian accent, too. He didn’t know the Inquisition was working with elves from Orlais, didn’t Anora tell him to keep an eye out for Ambassador Briala’s livery?
“Oh.” He shouldn’t feel awkward, but he blushes anyway. He stares at the woman’s feet, toes poking out of those foot wraps, and wonders how on earth she’s not freezing. Alistair’s got a coat of heavy wool, trimmed in fur.
The woman notices he’s staring and says, matter-of-fact, “My circulatory system is different than yours. We conserve heat more efficiently than your people. Besides, I’m a mage. It’s easy to keep warm.”
That has him a bit miffed. Of course he knows elves are biologically different than humans; they can still breed, though. He’s evidence of that. He doesn’t feel the cold as intensely as the others at court, and he knows why. The servants at the palace can tell, even if he passes, for the most part. Eamon and Tegan talk all the time about how much he looks like his father, how much he looks like Cailan, but he’s seen enough portraits of them both to know how he differs.
Alistair says, again, “Oh. Cool. I’m half, you know.” It’s not that he’s discouraged from talking about it, but it’s never been something to advertise. Those with eyes to see it don’t need to be told, but right Alistair feels like he needs to justify himself, with the way she’s looking at him. Skyhold has had him wrong-footed; Leliana has been distant and he is finding it harder and harder to slip away from the King. Anora tells him that’s part of adulthood. He’s not so sure.
The woman says, “I know.”
Alistair folds his arms. “Really? Because I didn’t. What’s your name, by the way?”
The elf smiles sadly. “Fiona. I used to travel with the Grey Wardens, when I was young.”
Alistair says, “Really? The Grey Wardens don’t really let people leave. Unless, you know, you point out that yet another civil war is going to break out if they don’t let you put your ass back on the throne. What was your excuse?”
Fiona says, “I had a baby. It’s hard to keep a nursery going in the Deep Roads. The darkspawn get jealous.”
“Oh. Can’t be having that, they’re crabby enough as it is. Though I heard of a Warden who brought his cat into the Deep Roads too, scratched out the eyes of a hurlock apparently. You’re lucky, most of us can’t have kids. I can’t. Probably.” He thinks about his own natural daughter with Tabris and blushes at the lie, rubbing at the back of his head. It’s for her own good and the good of the realm he hasn’t brought her to court. It’s not an excuse, it’s a reason, and Morrigan has the spare heir anyway, if Anora can’t figure something out.
Fiona says, “I suppose it’s luck. The Circle took him away from me, and gave him back to his father.” She sounds wistful. “But under the Inquisition, the mages keep their children. It’s a different world now. There’s no going back.”
He thinks to himself, I’m not so sure—the disastrous plans for the Hinterlands, the riots in Denerim, the failure of the embassy in the Brecilian forest. He thought after the Blight, with this new alliance between elves, dwarves, and men, there would be no going back. Anora tells him it’s a struggle for the future and that reform doesn’t come in a day, perhaps not even their lifetime: sometimes they need to settle for establishing the groundwork for the next person to rule, like Maric did for them. But of course, Anora’s never had her cousin kidnapped and brutalized, or her father sold into slavery. That sort of perspective changes things.
Alistair says, “Really?” He scratches his head. “I look at things in Ferelden and wonder how things can stay so stagnant, and then you look at Orlais and how they’re eating themselves alive. And Orzammar, of course, which is basically a living fossil. People don’t like change. They’d prefer for things to stay the same, or even go back to how they were a generation ago.” He is surprised at the bitterness in his voice.
Fiona cocks her head and looks at him curiously. She says, “You’re too young to be talking like that. You must understand it comes in seasons—we flourish in spring and reap our harvest in summer, and then prepare for and suffer through the conservative reaction in winter. Sometimes it’s a harsh winter, and many do not survive. But then there is always the spring. You lived in Ferelden, you should know—from the Night Elves who freed your people from the Orlesian occupation to Clan Alerion securing the boundaries of the Hinterlands now, things have changed. You just need to…riot every so often, to make sure no one gets complacent.” She grins.
It’s nice to talk politics with someone who doesn’t know who he is, who thinks he’s just another wealthy Ferelden currying favor with the Inquisition, not a king staring down the religious cult that just carved itself a city-state at the border of his realm. Below the children are yelling. A couple of them are using magic to freeze the snowballs, and they’re having a fierce debate, interspersed with throwing said ice balls, on whether that’s fair.
Alistair says, “Then I hope you’re right. I hope the mages and the Inquisition’s made enough of a, er, spring, to shake things up. It’s good for these kids to stay with their families, I hated what the Circle did. I didn’t know my mother, growing up. Would’ve avoided a lot of angst if I’d gotten to meet her.” He thinks about Morrigan and her awful mom, and then Goldanna flashes through his mind. Ashamed, he pushes the thought away. “Or maybe it would’ve made it worse! Hard to say, I certainly don’t know!” He smiles at the woman brightly.
Fiona says, “It might have made it worse, since she was an elf. Your life would’ve looked very different, even in Ferelden.”
His heart stops. Surely she doesn’t know who he is. That could be awkward, considering what he’s been saying. Anora will be furious that he’s gone off and talked politics with another random person again. He can’t help it, he gets bored easily, and the courtiers and advisors only tell him what they think he should want to hear.
“How do you know I’m Ferelden?” Alistair asks suspiciously.
“You’re wearing the badge on your fur coat. And, of course, your accent. Unless I am mistaken?”
“No, no,” Alistair says. “But yeah. Sorry. I don’t know much about her. Don’t know if she’s still alive. Just that she was an elf. Always assumed she was a serving woman or something, if my father was anything like C-Caleb.”
Fiona says, “Sometimes it’s better not to think about it, how we came into the world. I never met my parents either.” She leans against the balustrade and shakes her head at the kids fighting in the courtyard below. They’ve devolved into outright brawling, but that weird Warden the Inquisitor keeps around her has waded into the fray, bellowing orders. “It’s good to see them playing again. They never had enough time to play.”
“When were you a Warden?” Alistair asks. “You know, my dad travelled with the Wardens too. But they didn’t make him join up—guess that’s why I’m here, ha-ha.” He wants to ask her if she ever met him, because they might have overlapped. It’s hard to tell with elves sometimes though, they age more slowly, but she looks like she’s in her late forties, a bit careworn. Then he decides he really doesn’t want the conversation to get weird, because he is a king and his father was a king, and it’s rare that someone speaks to him normally now—treats him like the lovable idiot he knows he is, not the history-breaking king.
Fiona says, “Oh, give or take thirty years or so. I try not to count the years, at my age. My people live a long time if left unmolested, but I have a knack for running into trouble.”
Alistair laughs. “Oh, me too! I don’t even mean to do it, I’ve just never learned to keep my mouth shut.” To Teagan and Anora’s chagrin, he thinks ruefully. “I was given to the Templars as a boy, before I managed to get the Wardens to take me, and Maker! The Mother despaired of me. Called me most the accidental heretic she’d ever known. Really the Wardens taking me saved my life, Maker knows what they would’ve done to me if I kept poking at them like I was.”
Fiona pauses, trying to suppress a laugh, and then says, “At least you’ve never started a war.”
Alistair laughs heartily at that. Then he realizes what she’s said. “Wait, what? You started a war?”
Fiona says, “You…you didn’t know?”
Alistair says, “Is there something I should know?”
Fiona steps away, smoothing her expression away. “Many things.” Anxiously she peers down into the courtyard, smoothing her sleeves over her hands. The two factions of Skyhold children have joined forces and are attacking Blackwall with snow, but another one of the Inquisitor’s companions has joined the fray—a cackling elvhen girl, and then Alistair sees that from the balcony of the inn there’s a mustachioed mage swatting snowballs away from his friend.
Alistair says, “You never asked me my name.”
Fiona glances at him and then turns away. “I didn’t need to. You look very much like your father. Though I suppose you must know that.”
Alistair opens his mouth and then closes it. He says, voice hoarse, “Did you ever—“ He stumbles over his words, and clears his throat. “Did you ever find out what happened to your baby? When the Circle took him away.”
Fiona hesitates. The silence between them is filled with the children laughing below, the mage grandiosely chanting what are clearly made-up words, and the old Warden dramatically pretending to be overwhelmed by the volley of snow. The elven girl is swearing revenge, right now. It looks the children are trying to steal the “body” and make a pyre out of snow.
Alistair says, “I always wondered. What my life would’ve been like, if she could’ve kept me. I always kinda knew she didn’t have a choice. King’s bastards are the king’s, not whoever carried them. If she were a servant and if I’d end up in the kitchens or, better yet, the dairy. I really like cheese. But if she were a mage, I guess we never had any of that. Unless she ran away.”
Fiona covers her face with her hands.
Alistair continues, “Then, yeah, being apostates suck. Believe me. I met a girl who lived in a swamp. But I think we could’ve made it work. Like since I pass, and I’m not magic—at least I don’t think so, but I think I’d know by now? I’m like, thirty-five. Or something. I could’ve gone to the villages and traded for food. And I would’ve known more about who I am. Than just Maric’s bastard. Who’s just a story, anyway. That’s how kings like that end up. Just stories.”
His mother is weeping now.
He says, “I have no idea how you started that war you said you did. But I think I know what I’m supposed to know.” He takes a step closer, and she doesn’t move. He says, helplessly now, “I think I have your eyes.”
Fiona leans against the balustrade, back to the courtyard below. She’s not crying now, but she’s not making any sound. Alistair is afraid to go closer. Her hands press into her face like a mask, restraining a scream. He thinks if he touches her, all that tension will explode. He gets overwhelmed like that too. Can you inherit that sort of thing? He has to wonder, does the way one expresses pain get passed down in the blood?
He waits for her to speak. A door behind them creaks open, footsteps scuffle to a stop, then retreat. The door shuts. The mage has come down into the courtyard now and is chanting what appears to be Nevarran over the pile of snow that is Blackwall’s pyre. The elven girl is leading the children in mourning—but then the mage flourishes, and the snow glows purple, then scarlet, then green as he sparks. Blackwall throws the snow off and roars. The children cheer.
Fiona breathes heavily, drawing herself out of wherever she retreated. She swipes at her face with her sleeves. She says, “Forgive me. It was better that you didn’t know. You couldn’t have become—you deserved—Maric needed—what are you going to do, I told the Divine to go fuck herself, you can’t have a mother who told the Divine—“
Alistair says, impressed, “You told the Divine to go fuck herself? I am your son, I knew it had to come from somewhere! This is your fault!” He gestures at himself, and Fiona manages a laugh.
“An exaggeration,” she says. “I merely said the Divine should fuck herself, right before we voted to dissolve the Circles and separate from the Chantry. I’d hoped to tell her that at the Conclave, which is why they sent Orsino rather than myself.” Her mouth twists into a rueful smile. “Perhaps the only time running off my mouth and losing my temper has saved my life.”
Alistair says, “Well, the Divine was kind of an ass. Somebody had to say it.” He laughs. “Oh, this is wonderful. My mother, the rebel mage.” He’s genuinely delighted, this is much cooler than anything he came up with as a boy. “This is so cool. Anora’s going to be so annoyed when I tell her. Not like she can complain, her dad betrayed the realm and got all the Wardens killed, so really on the scale of shitty in-laws, I win.” He pauses: he isn’t sure he conveyed what he wanted to by that. Fiona is just staring at him. “But seriously, I don’t know who you are. Besides, obviously, my mother.”
Fiona says, disbelief in her voice, “I’m the Grand Enchanter."
Alistair says, “Oh Maker, I should’ve recognized the belt, shouldn’t I?”
#dragon age fanfiction#dragon age fanfic#da fanfic#dragon age fic#fiona#king alistair#alistair finally gets reunited with fiona#alistair#alistair theirin#fiona & alistair#I have typed this man's name so often it ceases to look real#fluff#family fluff#family reunion#happy ending
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How #67 with Mei and her parents? don't see much content with them. - Pixel Anon
Considering we haven't seen Mei's parents since episode 3 and we have no idea what their relationship is actually like now, I decided to do some canon-divergence and have them take initiative to be more involved in Mei's life. And since it’s fathers day... eh, why not do a little something with her dad in particular since I never really write her parents? (I got another anon for a fill involving Mei and her dad, but unfortunately Tumblr seems to have ghosted it into the ether, and i fused it into this one.)
My father may look like the scary one, but it’s my mother you need to be afraid of.
"Uh... hi mom?" Mei said in surprise, looking around when she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind her and finding that it was indeed the two of them alone in the garage. "Where's dad?"
"He's a little tied up in business, but he’s home," Mrs. Long said with a sigh, moving to stand behind her daughter and look down at her project with a look of confusion and mild dismay. "What... are you working on, dear?"
Mei looked down at her current state, coated in engine oil and grease with scattered parts of one of the many many cars laying around her. Like a gutted fish but much shiner and louder.
“Oh, uh...” Mei started with an awkward chuckle. “After, you know, the whole break in and everything I’ve been fixing up some of the cars that were still mostly in one piece and, uh...” she gestured to the one in front of her, jazz hands waving slightly enthusiastically. “Ta da?”
“... Oh!” Mrs. Long said when she registered what Mei meant, a small smile finally forming on her face. “You didn’t need to do that on your own, Mei, but...” She moved forward, inspecting the car with a careful gaze. “This is quite impressive! You’d never know it was damaged at all. I thought...” She frowned again, looking back to her daughter. “Well, I thought you were only interested in motorcycles so I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Oh no!” Mei laughed, wiping her hands on her work overalls. “Motorcycles are my specialty, but I know enough about most vehicles to give them some good care!” There was an odd expression on her mother’s face that fell over her at these words, something far off and somewhat sad. “Mom? You ok?”
“Yes,” her mom replied, just a bit too fast before she smiled again. “Actually, I think your father was almost finished when I came in to check in on you. He wanted to talk to you himself, why don’t you see if he’s done? He should be in the tea room.”
“... sure...” Mei said slowly, bending down to start picking up parts before her mom placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, dear, just leave those there in case you want to come back later. Just... change into clean clothes and wash your hands for now.”
Now... that was odd. Mei’s parents had always been clear on keeping the house as tidy as possible once you needed to leave a room (barring her own bedroom). But ever since that one Bull Clone (General Ironclad she thought she heard Red Son call him once) broke into her house for the Dragon Blade her parents had been acting different. Not extremely different, but noticeably so.
But instead of bringing this up Mei nodded to her mother and headed to wash up.
~
“Dad?” Mei called out, cleaned up from her car repairs and in clean clothes once again. “Mom said you wanted to talk to me?”
He was right where her mother had said he would be, in the tea room. Strewn about in front of him were papers upon papers, some seeming to be insurance forms for the multitude of broken objects strewn about the house and others repair bills. She was certain some of them, all on one side of the table, were research papers of some kind. And sitting at a seat in the middle of the long table was her father, small space cleared before him as he drank a fresh hot cup of tea. There was another, equally fresh cup across from him.
“Ah, Mei!” Her father said brightly, but there was an odd tenseness to his tone. “Yes, come in, sit down! There are a few things that we need your input on.”
Well that was vague as hell. But Mei did as requested, taking the seat across from him and picking up the tea before her. “I wouldn’t think this is something you’d be doing here in the... tea room.”
“Yes, well,” her father shrugged, glowering down at the paperwork with a sigh. “Sometimes you put aside convention to be comfortable. And with my office out of commission this is a much more relaxing place to work on papers than the dining room. If I don’t replace those chairs as soon as possible remind me how uncomfortable they are!” He shuddered dramatically, the action making Mei relax just a tad bit. The chairs had always been uncomfortable, she and her mother had told him as much before, but the three of them had never sat in them long enough for them to become bothersome. “But that’s something to worry about later! First, the main reason I wanted to talk to you...”
He put down his cup, reaching over to grab some paperwork on the right side of the table and slide it to her.
“As you know most of our cars in our collection were not salvageable after the break in.” Mei tensed a bit at that, frowning down at the paperwork in front of her. And her eyes widened. “And, well, we never really had reason to drive them anyway. Refilling the garage with new cars just seems silly at this point, so your mother and I were talking about possibly restructuring it and making the empty 3/4 of the garage into a sort of...” He paused for a moment, humming before snapping his fingers. “A workshop, I suppose is the correct term! For someone who liked to collect a lot of cars at one point I don’t know much about them, that was always more your mother’s interest even if she always insisted we only needed two. But you’re always working on your motorcycle and I thought giving you that space would be a much more reasonable use for it!”
Mei set her teacup down, picking up the papers as he talked and looking over them with wide eyes.
They were blueprints. For a garage workshop. For her motorcycle. For her.
“I-I!” She sputtered, gesturing to the papers with a shake of her head. “You... but this is-! I don’t-!”
“Mei,” her father said firmly, but gently, holding up one of his hands. “I know that we paid for you to live on your own in your own pent house and that you have a workshop outside as well, but this house is still your home as well! You have a room here, after all. But you don’t have to agree to having a workshop here if you don’t want one, they’re just blueprints at this point, and we can always find other uses for the empty space in the future.”
“... ok, what happened?” Mei asked, deadpan and looking at her father with suspicion. “I mean, I love the idea! I’d love to have a place for my vehicle work here! But ever since the break in you and mom have been acting really weird, dad!”
Mr. Long tensed, looking away from his daughter for a moment before bowing his head to look down into his tea.
“We... had a conversation with Mr. Tang,” Mr. Long said after a moment of silence, making Mei look at him with surprise. “... actually, no, it was more like we were given a lecture by Mr. Tang.” He chuckled, ruffling his hair and looking back up to Mei. “We may have many years on him, but he made us feel like teenagers being yelled at by the principal again. Your mother and I... we realized after your reaction of surprise that we haven’t been the most open and communicative parents. We’ve treated our house like more of a museum than as a home ever since you were a child, and when you moved out and we helped you get everything you had no access to while growing up here... we didn’t realize that it would feel even more so like we were trying to uphold that image.”
“Mr. Tang talked to you about that?” Mei winced, remembering the multiple times she would rant at her family friend who had been there for her since she was just a little girl. Multiple... multiple times. He’d been sworn to secrecy, naturally, but it seemed that this was the last straw for him.
“Yes,” her father confirmed with a nod, twisting his fingers. “We never meant for you to feel unwelcome in your own home, but with how busy we always were and how proud we were of our family history we lost sight of the fact we were. Even if you only stay here when we’re gone to watch the house we want you to feel comfortable, Mei. I can understand if you’re still apprehensive of this, however.”
Whatever Tang has said to the Long family heads must have been something to behold. And Mei couldn’t help but grab the paperwork and move to the side of the table her father sat at, sitting beside him instead of across from him.
“Well for starters, lets make this less ‘business meeting’ and more ‘dad talking to kid’, ok?” She said lightly, laying the papers in front of both of them. “And... car upkeep is more mom’s thing? Since when?” Mei raised a brow with a smirk,
Her father looked at her with surprise before chuckling, moving to half face her and the table with a far more comfortable smile. “She hasn’t really had the time to work on them since well before you were born, but...” he leaned in closer, whispering conspiratorially. “She used to be a street racer too!”
“WHAT!?” Mei exclaimed, covering her mouth when her father raised a finger to his lips in a shushing motion. “Mom was a street racer?”
“One of the best, right around when she was your age too!” Mr. Long laughed, a far off look in his eyes. “You and her have a lot more in common than one would think at first glance. You’re smart, good with vehicles, not to mention our dragon powers are from her side of the family- I only earned my own through being close to her over a long period. Why, sometimes I think the only things you got from me were your skills in video games and amazing sense of hair style!”
“Dad!” Mei laughed, gently shoving her dad’s shoulder tentatively. When he only laughed more at that she softened, relaxing against the table. “Guess I have a lot to learn about you both, huh?
“As long as you want to,” her father offered, spreading the blueprints between the two of them.
"I do,” she agreed, looking over the papers again. They could definitely use some... fine tuning. But they were a good start. “But I guess I was right about one thing!”
“What’s that?”
“Every time someone saw you guys they thought you were the one to be worried about,” she admitted with another chuckle, shaking her head. “I’d always correct them saying ‘my father may look like the scary one, but it’s my mother you need to be afraid of’ and now... well, if mom used to race the way I do on my bike I was way more right than I thought I was.”
“Oh, Mei, your mother was far more reckless than you ever were. You should have seen some of the catastrophes she used to cause.”
“... are they on the internet?”
Her father frowned for a moment before watching the door... and a conspiratorial smirk overtook his face.
“Want to find out together?”
#monkie kid#lego monkie kid#fanfic#gen fic#mei#Long Xiaojiao#mr and mrs long#prompt fill#i know their last name in the dub is dragon#i am not using that Long is their last name in the chinese version and it means dragon and I am just gonna use it here too#i also REALLY WISH WE SAW MORE OF HER PARENTS THAN IN JUST EPISODE 3#we know almost nothing of their personalities#so i am just using headcanons for everything here#given mei house sat i don't even think she lived with them anymore i think they just have her room and leave it the way she left it
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What You Want (R.L.)
Hello everyone! The lovely @serenefreakgeek requested a Remus Lupin x Hufflepuff!Reader so here it is! I hope you like it!
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Summary: One night on prefect rounds, Remus convinces the reader that they can be more than they always thought
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Injuries
Since you had stepped foot into Hogwarts first year, you knew that you were going to be a prefect. When the tall and beautiful Gryffindor prefect had escorted you to the Great Hall after you exited the train, you knew that you wanted to be just like her. She was regal and had an air of sophistication about her. And as a small eleven year old she had seemed impossibly grown up.
So as your years at school wore on, you did your best to prove yourself to be prefect material. You were always fighting to be the top of your class and were an exemplary example of a rule following student. It was simply in your nature to be good.
So when you were chosen to be a Hufflepuff prefect in your fifth year, you were not surprised, but you were overjoyed, to say the least.
Rounds were your favorite part of being a prefect. You loved walking through the old castle at night when the hallways were empty and quiet. Your school was always beautiful, but its beauty really shone in the darkness of twilight. And you enjoyed spending time with other prefects. You liked having conversations with like-minded individuals and it only made your nights better.
On this particular night, you were assigned to complete rounds with none other than Remus Lupin. You frowned when you read the name. You were confused as to how he even became a prefect in the first place. Yes, he was incredibly intelligent and kind, but he was also a part of a group that was famous for the havoc they wrecked on the school. You had to take house points away from his friends multiple times. And you cursed the rule that prefects couldn’t dock points from other prefects when you had caught him involved in some elaborate scheme to flood Filch’s office. You simply couldn’t understand how he had earned the position and in all honesty, you were a bit peeved that he had.
You had worked incredibly hard to become a prefect. Hours of late-night studying and painfully following rules even if they didn’t make sense, all in the name of becoming what you wanted. It almost felt like an insult when a prankster like him got the position handed to him on a silver platter.
So when you found yourself wandering the halls with him, you weren’t exactly sure what to say to him. You had always had an easy time talking to people, a true Hufflepuff virtue that you possessed, but with Remus, you were stumped. You couldn’t imagine that you had anything in common with a rouge like him.
After nearly a half-hour of silence, Remus spoke up.
“So how are you enjoying the year so far?” he asked. It was an awkward question, the kind you ask when you need to break the ice but can’t find a way how to.
“It’s fine so far,” you answered, “but I am stressed about the O.W.Ls,” you admitted. Remus hummed in agreement from beside you.
“I agree, it’s been stressful,” he said. You nodded awkwardly and another bout of silence fell over you both.
“So what are you planning on doing after we leave school?” you asked. You internally cringed as you said it; you hated being asked this question but you were arriving at the age where it was all that adults asked. Remus let out a sigh that let you know he also hated the topic and you mentally facepalmed.
“I’m not sure if I’m being completely honest,” he said with a chuckle, “but I think I might like to teach.” You crinkled your nose at his words.
“What?” he asked, confused by your reaction.
“You just don’t seem like the type,” you explained, “always running around and pulling jokes with your friends.” Remus laughed at your response.
“I guess you could say I’m three dimensional. Yes, I love a good joke here and there, but I love to learn,” he said, “and we’ve never really spoken so I’m not sure if you really know what ‘type’ I am.” You flushed at his words.
“Sorry,” you apologized in embarrassment.
“It’s alright. What about you?” he asked.
“Huh?” you responded, unsure of what he was asking. He chuckled again.
“What do you want to do when we leave school?” he asked, repeating your question. You felt your blush deepen. How come you kept embarrassing yourself in front of him?
“I want to take over my parent’s shop,” you said. Remus’s eyes lit up with curiosity.
“Oh, that’s cool! What kind of shop is it?” he inquired.
“It’s a bookshop,” you explained, “it’s in Diagon Alley.”
“Wait is it Flourish and Blotts?” he asked excitedly. You nodded shyly.
“Yeah. It’s been passed down through my family for a few generations,” you explained.
“That’s so cool,” he said earnestly, sending you a smile. You felt yourself grow warm. Remus seemed to have an effect on you and you weren’t sure if you liked it.
“Yeah, it is,” you said softly, “my brothers aren’t interested in taking over so it’s up to me.” You shrugged slightly. Remus’s smile dropped slightly at your words.
“So are you being forced to take over?” he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows as you continued to walk down the hallway.
“No not forced. It’s just that it’s what I’m supposed to do,” you answered. Remus was silent for a moment.
“But is it what you want to do?” he asked after a beat. You frowned. No one had ever questioned your potential career path before. They usually just accepted it when you said you were going to take over the family business.
“I think so,” you answered, “though I’ve never really thought about before. I’ve just always known that I was going to do it.” Remus nodded.
“Well, you shouldn’t feel obligated. You should do whatever you feel like doing, not just what people expect of you,” he said wisely. You walked in silence for a moment as you processed what he said. You were surprised that he spoke so candidly with you and you were shocked that he seemed to be able to read you so well after barely an hour together. As both of you traveled further down the hallways you were lost in deep thought, mulling over his words.
Suddenly, footsteps could be heard from a classroom to your right. Remus lightly grabbed your arm, sending sparks through your body from his touch, and nodded to the classroom. You both walked towards the room and opened the door. You cast a quick lumos to see into the darkened room. Two third years sat at a desk, looking up at you like deer caught in the headlights. It was very clear what they had been doing; their clothes were rumpled at their hands were still clutching each other. Remus cleared his throat.
“Come on now, off to bed,” he said, “Ten points from Ravenclaw.” The two third years stood up, guilty expressions lining their faces. They shuffled out quietly, holding hands as they went. You and Remus waited for them to be out of sight before bursting out laughing.
“Oh my Godric!” you exclaimed, gasping for air.
“Their faces!” Remus wheezed. You were suddenly struck by how beautiful his laugh was. It was a deep rumbling laugh, one that caused warmth to spread through your body simply from hearing it. It was the kind of laugh that made jokes sound funnier and moments seem happier. And in the bright light emitting from your wand, he looked nearly as beautiful as his laugh sounded. His hair was mussed and out of place, his eyes crinkled as he laughed. The scars that ran down his cheeks added ruggedness to his features that juxtaposed the softness of his eyes and his demeanor. You had never really noticed his beauty before. It was the quiet kind of beautiful that snuck up on you when you were least expecting it. In all honesty, you had never paid him much mind before. His prankster friends were the exact type of people you tried to avoid, so in the process, you had seemingly avoided him.
After a moment your laughs began to dissolve, causing a comfortable silence to fall. The two of you looked at each other, smiles still wide across your faces.
“A healer,” you said after a beat. Remus furrowed his eyebrows.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“If I could be what I wanted,” you explained, “I would be a healer.” Remus’s grin only grew.
“Then you should be one,” he said. You shrugged.
“Someone has to take over the shop,” you said with a wave of your hand.
“Doesn’t mean it has to be you,” he said. You just crossed your arms across your chest.
“I don’t know who else could do it,” you admitted, “I’ve been groomed for it my whole life.”
“Pass it off to some cousin,” he said cheekily, causing you to smile.
“Possibly,” was all you responded with.
As your years at Hogwarts continued you didn’t see Remus very much. You were in different houses and ran in separate social circles. But that didn’t stop you from staring at him across the great hall or doodling your name with his in the margins of your potions notes. And you always kept his words in the back of your head. They were the silent motivation to follow your dreams and live the life that you actually wanted. You still saw Remus when you attended your prefect duties and occasionally on rounds. You spent every second with him trying to memorize his features and gauge how he felt about you. But you only seemed to ever remain acquaintances. And when you were appointed the job as the Hufflepuff headgirl, you were sorely disappointed when Remus didn’t make headboy. And the day that you told your parents that you didn’t want to take over the shop and that you wanted to pursue a career in healing, you wished that you could run to him and thank him.
When you left Hogwarts you continued to work to become what you wanted. Soon, you got a job at St. Mungos. The life that you had built for yourself three years out of school was everything you could’ve hoped for. You had a small but cozy flat in London and a cat and the job of your dreams. But it still felt as if something was missing.
St. Mungos was slow tonight. Barely anyone had come in. You had fixed a broken bone for a child who had fallen off of their broom and had confirmed to a smiling woman that she was pregnant.
Shortly after nine, you were called into a room to heal a large wound. You opened the door as you read the chart. The man had a large gash in his abdomen. It was truly nothing serious but it would require several spells and ointment to relieve the pain.
“Hello! I’m (Y/n) (L/n) and I’ll be helping you tonight,” you said, still looking down at the chart.
“(Y/n)?” a shocked voice said. You looked up and met eyes with the man you hadn’t been able to get out of your mind since you had graduated.
“Remus?” you said breathily. He smiled warmly at you and nodded.
“You did it!” he exclaimed, “You became a healer!” You smiled at his excited tone.
“Would it be weird to say that I owe it to you?” you asked with a small smile. He just shook his head.
“You don’t owe anything to me you did it all on your own,” he said, his warm eyes looking into yours. You looked back down at the chart in an attempt to hide your blush.
“It’s good to see you, Remus,” you said softly. He moved slightly, as if in an attempt to get up, but winced in pain and clutched his side. You snapped back into focus, remembering suddenly why you were there and went to work.
The cut was easily fixed, though you couldn’t help but wonder how he got it. When you asked he just waved you off and mumbled out an excuse about falling. And as you worked, you tried to ignore how your hands burned as they grazed across his bare stomach. After a short while, he was all patched up.
“There you go,” you said as you finished rubbing on the final ointment. “It will probably leave a scar but it will heal.” Remus nodded, used to the idea of scars adorning his body.
“You’re great at this you know,” he said with a cute smile on his face.
“Oh stop,” you said with a blush, playfully waving him off.
“No, I’m serious. You were made for this,” he said, cocking his head. His eyes seemed to study you for a moment and you felt self conscious under his gaze. You began packing up your equipment but felt his eyes on you as you walked about the room.
“You’re all set to leave if you’d like,” you said finally, saddened that he would be leaving, afraid that you’d never cross paths again. Instead of making a move to leave, however, Remus simply asked you a question.
“Would you like to go out for dinner with me?” he asked, still seated on the examination table. You froze, unsure of what to say.
“Huh?” you let out after a moment. Remus smiled before pushing off the table and making his way across the room to you and grabbing your hand.
“You don’t have to say yes but I’ve been wanting to ask you that since we first went on rounds together,” he confessed, “but I was too nervous to say anything back then but I can’t bear the thought of leaving here and never seeing you again.” Your jaw went slack at his confession but you quickly caught yourself and smiled.
“Of course I’d love to go to dinner with you,” you said softly. Remus’s smile only grew.
“Perfect,” he murmured before bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it gently. You nearly melted.
“I get off in thirty if you’re free tonight,” you said nervously.
“Darling for you, I’ll always be free.”
#remus#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#young!remus lupin#young!remus x reader#young!remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x oc#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin/reader#remus lupin/you#maruaders fic#marauders x reader#hp marauders#marauders headcanon#marauders era#marauders fic#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fic#hogwarts
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Get Through It
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word count: 3.2K
Requested by anon: Hi, could I request a natasha romanoff x fem reader where reader is from the red room and was trained to become a 2.0 version of the black widow and is well known for how successful and deadly she is. She is Natasha's long term girlfriend and informant inside the red room, which is unknown to the red room, the other avengers and SHIELD (maybe asides from Clint or Fury) until she breaks in the Avengers tower, with the avengers perceiving her as a threat until natasha tackles her, confusing them.
“I don’t want you to go back,” Natasha’s voice is quiet, not wanting to break the bubble you’ve formed in the few minutes you’re able to spend together.
“I know love. Just a few more weeks and we should be able to take them down for good, then I’ll be able to leave. I’ll be with you,” you promise and she nods, tightening her grip on your waist as you pull her impossibly closer to you.
“Just five more minutes.” You smile at Natasha’s words.
“Five more minutes,” you agree.
You’d met Natasha at a young age. You were brought into the Red Room a few years after her, she even trained you for a while before she broke out. Not long after she left she showed back up on one of your missions. She told you about the people she worked for now and how they needed your help. You immediately agreed. You’d do almost anything to end the program that ruined your life, you wanted out. Unfortunately for you, the plan involved leaving you there to be a mole for an unspecified amount of time. Neither you nor Natasha liked it, wanting you to be safe, wanting to be together, but you made it work. She’d come find you when they sent you on missions, and you’d steal a few moments together wherever you could. She helped you cope with the people you had to kill in order to maintain your cover, collateral damage, Fury had called them. It made you sick, but it was the only way to survive. If the instructors of the red room even vaguely suspected you disobeying their orders they’d kill you as soon as look at you.
Natasha didn’t know exactly what was happening inside the red room anymore, all she knew was that they had upped security since she left and things had gotten a lot worse. Fury wouldn’t let her in on the briefings he had with you, he said it was a conflict of interest and you refused to talk about what you were going through. When Natasha left the instructors had been furious. She was their greatest accomplishment and they knew it was only a matter of time before she returned with an army to take them down. So training was doubled and punishments were tripled. Everyone’s life became a living hell. Well, more of one. They were determined to be ready and you, having been the only one trained by her, got the brunt of the attention. They decided you’d be the new project and while Natasha didn’t know exactly what was wrong, she knows it’s bad, and it breaks her heart.
xxxxx
“Y/l/n, stand,” you’re startled out of your slumber and you’re on your feet in seconds, standing at attention. You know not to speak as you wait for instructions, if they decided to wake you up before everyone else then they weren’t happy, and you’re not about to piss them off.
“You will be training the new recruits today. They are sloppy and undisciplined, we expect you to fix that,” you’re told and you clench your jaw, not letting the words you want to say slip out. Not snapping that the new recruits are all below seven years of age, of course they’re all undisciplined. Of course they’re sloppy, they were brought here against their will to become killing machines. You know the nightmare they’re living through. You’ve been there before, and it’s because of that experience that you know anything you say won’t be taken against you. The children will receive the punishment. So you hold your tongue.
“Yes ma’am,” your voice is firm, hiding the pain and anger with an ease that only comes from years of experience.
“Training starts at 0500. Get ready,” they say before leaving your room. You look down at your watch, you have half an hour.
xxxxx
“Again.” your voice is firm, your face emotionless. You’re watching the young girls spar and pretending it doesn’t break your heart. You don’t remember much about your life before you came here, the instructors made sure of that, but you know these girls do. They remember the parents they were ripped away from, the normal lives they had, and even if they were bad, they were nothing compared to this. The sound of sniffling catches your attention. You look to your left, seeing a small girl trying to hide her tears. You kneel down in front of her and she stiffens, “hey, you can’t cry.”
“I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean too,” her voice is shaking and there are more tears welling up in her eyes. She looks to the floor in an attempt to hide them and you find yourself fighting tears as well.
“I’m not mad,” you promise and she looks up, a sliver of hope in her eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Jackie,” she whispers and you nod.
“It’s going to be okay, Jackie.” You feel eyes on you and you look around, seeing everyone staring at the interaction and you wave them over. “Everyone come here, and be quiet.”
The girls half dozen all gather around you, sitting in a circle and looking every bit the young children they are. You glance behind you, ensuring the doors are closed before you turn back. “You all need to listen very carefully. I know you don’t want to be here, I don’t either. But I’m here to help you get through. I want to help you, but you can’t tell anyone, alright? I know you’re scared but you have to hide it, or you’re gonna get in a lot of trouble. It’s scary but you can get through this. I know you can.”
“I want to go home,” Jackie says and you sigh.
“I know. I do too, but it’s gonna be okay. You hide your emotions from them, but you’re allowed to feel them. Whenever you feel scared or alone, you lean on each other, or you come find me. You’ll get through this together.”
“How did you do it?” another girl asks and you smile softly.
“I had someone to help me through,” you say simply, memories of you and Nat working together to get through everything. As you look at the girls here you promise them silently, you’re gonna shut this down. You’ll get them all home, even if it’s the last thing you do. You hear footsteps coming and your heart stops.
“Everybody up!” Your voice is firm again and they all snap back into attention, knowing it’s time to work. “Again.”
“Y/l/n,” a voice comes from the doorway and you make your way over, “you’re done here for the day. You have a mission.”
“Yes ma’am.” you know not to spare the girls another glance, but you can tell they’re watching you go. You hope you’ll be back soon.
“There is an individual out there who poses a threat to everything we do here, more than anyone in the past. This mission requires a firm hand, that’s why you have been chosen. You will find your target and you will take her out, before she destroys everything,” the instructor says as you walk. When you enter the briefing room you see the photos of your target, and you feel sick.
xxxxx
“Intruder alert! An unidentified individual is in the elevator, approaching the common room.” Friday’s voice announces throughout the tower and everyone snaps into action, the movie they had been watching instantly forgotten as they prepare for a fight. Tony’s suit assembles around him and Clint grabs one of the many bows he has stashed around the tower. Steve’s shield appears out of nowhere and Natasha grabs a knife out of her boot and they all wait for the elevator doors to open with bated breath.
When the doors open there are three very different reactions from the people in the room. Natasha drops her knife and practically jumps into the intruder's arms, Clint lowers his bow and rolls his eyes fondly, while everyone else tenses up even more.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Russia. Did they send you on a mission here?” Natasha rapid fires questions, and the grin on your face only grows.
“I’m out. All the instructors from the red room are with Fury, on the way to the raft. All the girls are going to headquarters for interrogation,” you say proudly and Natasha steps out of your arms, taking both your hands in hers and trying to hide the tears in her eyes.
“It worked?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, and you nod.
“It worked.” With that she’s crashing her lips into yours, only pulling away when someone loudly clears their throat.
“Not to break up whatever this is but…what is this?” Tony asks and you try to stifle a laugh at the fear on the faces of Earth’s mightiest heroes.
“Agent y/l/n, nice to meet you,” you say simply and they all continue to stare.
“Uh, yeah. We’re gonna need a bit more than that because we all know who you are. We want to know what you’re doing here and why you’re so...friendly with Romanoff,” Steve says and you don’t hold back the laughter now.
“I’m y/n, I work with shield. I’ve been undercover in Russia the last few years taking down the training facility Natasha and I got our start in. I earned the reputation you all clearly have heard of, but I’m working on changing that, same as Nat. I would’ve left sooner but Fury ordered me to stay there,” you explain and he furrows his brow.
“The most prolific assassin of our time appears in our living room and says she’s on our side. You understand that we can’t believe that, right?” Bruce says and you shrug, attempting to remain calm about the situation.
“I mean, it’s obvious I’m not a stranger. You really think I’d still be standing here if Nat thought I was a threat? Seriously, have any of you met her? She’s the second best assassin in Russia,” you tease her and she rolls her eyes. “Anyway, you can call Fury if you want. He’ll back me up.”
“Why don’t you call him?” Steve is still skeptical and you let out a slow breath. This interrogation is getting really annoying.
“I’ve lived within an underground school training as an assassin for the last sixteen years of my life, three of which I spent undercover trying to take them down from the inside. Do you really think I’m dumb enough to have something as tracable as a cell phone?” your voice is calm but you’re anything but. Natasha takes your hand, trying to pull you out of the glaring match you’re engaged in.
“Alright. Sounds good, see you then,” you all catch the end of Clint’s phone call as he steps back into the room. None of you had even seen him leave. “Fury’s on his way. He had to stop at the raft but he should be here in the next few hours. It’s nice to see you again y/l/n. You okay?”
“You too Barton, and yeah. Just a few scrapes and bruises, nothing some time won’t fix. How is…everything” you trail off, unsure if the people around you know about his family.
“Laura’s good, the kids too. Don’t worry about them. They all found out a few weeks ago,” he explains and you nod.
“Now that I’m out I’d love to meet them sometime, put some faces to all the stories,” you suggest and Clint smiles, nodding in agreement.
“Okay, enough questions. I’m sure you’re exhausted, I’ll take you up to my room. You can rest there until Fury arrives,” Natasha pulls you away from the group and down a few hallways, effectively ending the conversation. She enters what you assume is her room and you smile softly as you take it in. It’s pretty simple, almost no decorations and it’s perfectly organized. You know where that habit came from, and you think about how tidiness has been beaten into your brain as you remove your shoes and carefully set them next to a pair of hers by the end of the bed. When you turn to her you see several emotions crossing her face.
“I know you must have questions,” you say quietly, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“I mean yeah, I have questions. You show up here out of nowhere? We weren’t supposed to take them down for weeks, what changed? I was supposed to help, I was as much part of this as you were. I should have been there,” her voice is shaking, a mix of fear and anger making its way through and you sigh.
“I know you wanted to be in on it. I wanted you to be there, you deserved that closure, but my next mission-” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. You grit your teeth as you try and push your last meeting with your instructors out of your head. “We couldn’t wait anymore.”
“I understand you wanted to leave, I was trying to convince Fury to move up the date as well. I just don’t get what made you feel the need to keep me out of it!” Natasha yells and you’re on your feet in a second.
“You were my next mission!” A heavy silence falls over the room. You’re practically shaking, tears of anger gathering in your eyes as Natasha stares in silence. “That’s why I couldn’t wait.”
“I don’t…” Natasha trails off. You can see the confusion on her face and you step forward, gently taking her hand, but avoiding her eyes. You may be angry, but not at her.
“They’ve never forgiven you for leaving. I was called into a briefing a few days ago. When I walked into the room and they had pictures of you on the board, from missions, here in New York, from the times you met me on my missions. They’ve been trailing you for months. It’s a miracle they hadn’t seen us together. They knew they’d never get you back. They’ve been trying for years and so it was decided if you wouldn’t come willingly we’d take you out. I’d take you out,” you clarify with a shaky breath. “You’re too big of a threat and they knew I was the only one who could…That’s why it had to be now. That’s why you couldn’t be there.”
“Y/n,” Natsha tries but you shake your head, releasing her hand and stepping away.
“I’m tired. Can we talk about this later?” you ask with your back to Natasha and she sighs. She knows she won’t be hearing anything about this anytime soon. Not from you at least, but she nods.
“Of course, get some rest.”
xxxxx
“Now that this is all cleared up, you’re free to go. I think you have earned a vacation,” Fury finishes and you laugh.
“What, you mean all of your agents don’t spend sixteen years on assignment?” you tease and he smirks a bit, it’s the closest you’ve ever seen to a smile. “Thank you sir. I’d like to follow up with the girls if that’s all right, especially the younger ones. I promised I’d get them home.”
“You’re welcome to. Several of them have been asking about you. Other than that you’re free to go. You’ll be contacted with any further questions,” he says before walking out the door followed by the team, leaving you and Natasha alone in the conference room.
You relax into your chair and let out a sigh of relief, “we did it.”
“You did it,” Natasha corrects. “I knew you would. Now, I think it’s time to properly introduce you to the team. Ya know, now that they know you’re not here to kill them.”
Natasha offers a hand and you let her pull you up following her into the kitchen where the team is now gathered.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Steve is the first to speak up.
“I understand. I would have reacted the same way, you were trying to protect yourselves. I was trying to do the same,” you explain and everyone feels the tension begin to release. As you settle into conversation you hear a voice coming from the hallway.
“Miss Romanoff!” the unknown voice yells and you instinctively step between Natasha and the threat. A teenage boy comes running into the room, a backpack on his shoulders and a sheet of paper in his hand. A girl around the same age follows him in, much calmer and you stare, they don’t seem like a threat, but you aren’t taking any risks.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Natasha whispers to you, taking your hand before speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “This is Peter and Wanda, they’re on the team.”
You spin to face her, a look of anger across your face, but she recognizes the pain in your eyes. “They’re kids.”
“Oh god. Another person to make fun of my age? I swear I can keep up, I’m not that young!” At Peter’s complaints you turn back around, looking the two up and down for a moment.
“You’re here willingly?” You ask and Peter’s head tilts to the side, resembling that of a confused puppy.
“Well, yeah. I was gonna show Miss Romanoff my chemistry test, she helped me study for it. I got an A,” he says and the girl behind him, Wanda you remember, steps forward.
“She means on the team,” Wanda looks at you intently, like she knows more than she should and it’s unsettling.
“Wanda, get out of her head,” Steve’s words startle you but he just keeps going. “This is y/n, she trained with Nat.”
“Their training facility had child soldiers, similar to hydra. That is why she was afraid we were here against our will,” Wanda says and you notice her accent, “I was raised in Sokovia. I was brought into Hydra at ten. I came here after.”
“So you just-”
“Know everything you’re thinking? Yes,” she cuts you off and you sigh.
“That’s gonna get annoying. On that note, I have to get to headquarters,” you say and Natasha speaks up.
“Do you have to go now?” she asks and you nod.
“The younger girls...I promised I’d get them home. I promised to be there when they were scared, and I know this is the scariest thing yet,” you tell her and Tony speaks up.
“Surely they’ll be okay for a bit longer. They have to understand that you’ve done enough for them. They may only be teenagers but-”
“They’re seven,” you cut him off, “some even younger. I won’t leave them alone.” The room falls silent as they all stare.
“When you say you’ve been there for sixteen years…” Bruce trails off and you nod.
“I was brought in when I was seven, same as most of the girls there.”
“What kind of sick organization is this?” Tony sounds angry and you smile sadly.
“Why do you think we fought so hard to take it down? Now if you’ll excuse me, I really need to go. Nat, we could use some help if you’re willing?” you ask and she smiles.
“Like I’m letting you go without me.” You smile at her words, taking her hand gently. “Now come on, we’ve got work to do.”
tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @5aftermidnight @im-salt-but-not-salty @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff reader insert#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha reader insert#natasha x you#natasha x y/n#natasha x reader#avengers x y/n#avengers x reader#avengers reader insert#marvel imagine#avengers imagine#marvel#avengers
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Hermione has more complimentary traits with Harry than she does with Ron. Hermione is logical and thinks through her decisions while Harry is ruled by his emotions and follows his instincts. She's enthusiastic/cheerful he is more introverted and bitter. She motivates him to do better, and he reminds her that there are more important things than books and cleverness. Ron's humour gets on Hermione's nerves and her cleverness does the same to him. Their differences tear them instead of balancing.
HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HahahahahahHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh that’s a good one, oh thank you dude, oh I haven’t laughed this hard in... in like 24 hours, I saw a pretty great meme yesterday, but oh thank you that was hilarious.
...
... wait you were serious?
...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHONHONHONHONHONHONHAHAHAHHONHONSNORTHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEH HAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAH HAHAHAH HAHAHAH HAAHAHAHAHAAAAAA AAAAAH HAAAWWW... oh my god, oh my god... seriously you could build a whole ass circus out of that.
Alright! Now that the hilarity’s over...
Hermione has more complimentary traits with Harry than she does with Ron.
Prove it.
Hermione is logical and thinks through her decisions
... and sometimes she also makes very illogical decisions and acts very rash, see how she sets Snape on fire in first year which could have hurt everyone around, how she forgot she’s a witch, see how the Polyjuice plan was total bullshit and relied 100% on luck, see how she acted completely thoughtless to Ron in POA, see how she was completely harebrained at the end of OOTP due to pressure, her very thought-out reaction to Ron and Lavender being together, and such...
Harry is ruled by his emotions and follows his instincts
You realize you just described Ron too, pal? Ron’s role in the Trio is the Heart. Harry’s the Body, since everything revolves around him, Hermione’s the Brain, Ron is the Heart. That’s how they work.
She's enthusiastic/cheerful
......... cheerful?
Hermione?
Cheerful?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA(...)HAWHAWHAWHONHONHONHONHONHAHAHAHAHA(...)HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAhahahaha... haaaa...
Hermione may be enthusiastic about knowledge, but she’s not cheerful. She’s not the one who makes the jokes, she’s not the one who has a snarky comment on everything, she’s not the one who makes Harry laugh, she’s not the one who laughs at Harry’s jokes. That’s Ron’s job.
RON is the cheerful one. Sorry pal, better reread the books.
he is more introverted and bitter
Pro tip: this can also describe Hermione to a degree. Though Hermione isn’t exactly an introvert, she’s more of a socially awkward extrovert. She’s not reading quietly in a corner and demurely asking “oh please don’t talk to me, I just want to read :(” she’s more like “I READ THAT BOOK ABOUT [social injustice] AND IT’S CLEAR TO ME NOW THAT [social injustice] IS UNACCEPTABLE, DO YOU HAVE A MOMENT TO TALK ABOUT [social injustice], I’M GONNA RAISE FUNDS TO PROMOTE AWARENESS AND EDUCATE PEOPLE ON THIS SUBJECT WILL YOU JOIN ME, WHY WON’T YOU JOIN ME, COME BACK WE’RE NOT FINISHED WITH THIS-”
... or, I could also... show you.
From your own dear and esteemed “Harmony Bible” that is Order of the Phoenix. *snort* “Harmony Bible”... oh my god, the delusion, the delusion...
“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —”
“That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.”
“I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!”
1. Example of Hermione not appreciating Harry’s humour
2. Example of Harry not liking Hermione’s “pushing him to do better”
Oooh, surprise! It’s not just Ron and Hermione that do the silent treatment to each other, Harry does it too! What a turn of events!
Hermione nodded, apparently still lost in thought. Then, quite abruptly, she said, “But you shouldn’t have seen this at all, Harry.”
“What?” he said, taken aback.
“You’re supposed to be learning how to close your mind to this sort of thing,” said Hermione, suddenly stern.
“I know I am,” said Harry. “But —”
“Well, I think we should just try and forget what you saw,” said Hermione firmly. “And you ought to put in a bit more effort on your Occlumency from now on.”
Harry was so angry with her that he did not talk to her for the rest of the day, which proved to be another bad one.
Ah, lying, avoiding the subject, refusing to consider her opinion... how harmonious. *gigglesnort*
“But why haven’t you got Occlumency lessons anymore?” said Hermione, frowning.
“I’ve told you,” Harry muttered. “Snape reckons I can carry on by myself now I’ve got the basics...”
“So you’ve stopped having funny dreams?” said Hermione skeptically.
“Pretty much,” said Harry, not looking at her.
“Well, I don’t think Snape should stop until you’re absolutely sure you can control them!” said Hermione indignantly. “Harry, I think you should go back to him and ask —”
“No,” said Harry forcefully. “Just drop it, Hermione, okay?”
Hmmm, funny how Harry acts more like a teenager trying to sneak out of bed on Mama Ron and Hermione’s watch rather than as “Hermione’s perfect flawless soulmate uwu”!
He had ended up saying to them truthfully that Sirius wanted Harry to resume Occlumency lessons. He had been regretting this ever since; Hermione would not let the subject drop and kept reverting to it when Harry least expected it.
“You can’t tell me you’ve stopped having funny dreams,” Hermione said now, “because Ron told me last night you were muttering in your sleep again...”
Harry threw Ron a furious look. Ron had the grace to look ashamed of himself.
Yes, she toooootally brings out “the best” of him... the best of all he’s learned at the Dursleys, which is avoidance, lying, deceiving... ha ha ha ha ha... oh, you guys, you’re so desperate, it’s almost cute. But then I remember that you keep bashing Ron and I stop feeling merciful.
“You are trying to block your mind, aren’t you?” said Hermione, looking beadily at Harry. “You are keeping going with your Occlumency?”
“Of course I am,” said Harry, trying to sound as though this ques-tion was insulting, but not quite meeting her eye. The truth was that he was so intensely curious about what was hidden in that room full of dusty orbs that he was quite keen for the dreams to continue.
Oh yes, he’s totally motivated to do better. He’s so motivated in fact he’s going to completely ignore her. And guess how that first date ends? With Sirius’ death. What a harmonious pairing.
“But Harry, you’ve just said it,” said Hermione fiercely. “Dumbledore wanted you to learn to shut these things out of your mind, if you’d done Occlumency properly you’d never have seen this —”
“IF YOU THINK I’M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN’T SEEN —”
“Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learn-ing to close your mind!”
“WELL, I EXPECT HE’D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I’D JUST —”
And and and!! Hohohoho I’m not done!! Let me show you, I have SO MUCH to show you!!
As early as Goblet of Fire... Ah, and don’t say that this is “evil Ron’s evil influence of evilness :(” because Ron literally is harder-working than Harry in possibly every way because Ron doesn’t have the luxury of being the protagonist to promote him to, say, youngest Seeker in a century. Yeah, Ron’s not a Mary Sue like that. But I digress.
"It's Christmas, Hermione," said Harry lazily; he was rereading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.
Hermione looked severely over at him too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes!"
"Like what?" Harry said as he watched Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.
"That egg!" Hermione hissed.
"Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth," Harry said.
He had put the golden egg upstairs in his trunk and hadn't opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There were still two and a half months to go until he needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.
"I just thought you'd want to take advantage of the common room being quiet," she said. "Really get to work on that egg."
"Oh I - I reckon I've got a pretty good idea what it's about now," Harry lied.
"Have you really?" said Hermione, looking impressed. "Well done!"
Harry’s insides gave a guilty squirm, but he ignored them. He still had five weeks to work out that egg clue, after all, and that was ages... whereas if he went into Hogsmeade, he might run into Hagrid, and get a chance to persuade him to come back.
... but you know what makes Harry change his mind about lying about the egg? Or rather, who?
So you may argue that oh là là, Harry feels guilty for lying to his great soulmate Hermoanie and waah isn’t it so romantic...
Even though Harry can and does acknowledge that Hermione means well… it’s not enough for him. He will lie, avoid her, and go behind her back, like a child would with their parent, and even though he may feel guilty about it, it’s not enough to deter him.
Hagrid's miserable face broke into a wide, watery smile.
"Tha's my boy. . . you show 'em, Harry, you show 'em. Beat 'em all."
Lying to Hagrid wasn't quite like lying to anyone else. Harry went back to the castle later that afternoon with Ron and Hermione, unable to banish the image of the happy expression on Hagrid's whiskery face as he had imagined Harry winning the tournament. The incomprehensible egg weighed more heavily than ever on Harrys conscience that evening, and by the time he had got into bed, he had made up his mind - it was time to shelve his pride and see if Cedric's hint was worth anything.
And of course Half-Blood Prince, and if you try to tell me “buuutt hermoanie was ooc :((((” you can put a cactus up your rear you coward.
Welp. Not Ron, not Hermione. Hagrid.
Welcome to the world, Ha... Hagry? Harrid? Oh whatever. Here you go, Hagrid brings the best out of Harry, Harry feels more guilt at the thought of lying to Hagrid than anyone else. OTP.
She’s certainly not encouraging Harry to try new stuff. How is that supposed to help him improve? How is that supposed to make him do better?
“How are you doing that?” demanded Hermione, who was redfaced and whose hair was growing bushier and bushier in the fumes from her cauldron; her potion was still resolutely purple.
“Add a clockwise stir—”
“No, no, the book says counterclockwise!” she snapped.
Harry shrugged and continued what he was doing.
For or the rest of the week’s Potions lessons Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince’s instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage’s, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn was raving about Harry’s abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented. Neither Ron nor Hermione was delighted by this. Although Harry had offered to share his book with both of them, Ron had more difficulty deciphering the handwriting than Harry did, and could not keep asking Harry to read aloud or it might look suspicious. Hermione, meanwhile, was resolutely plowing on with what she called the “official” instructions, but becoming increasingly bad-tempered as they yielded poorer results than the Prince’s.
In fact
(dyslexic!Ron dyslexic!Ron dyslexic!Ron)
Well isn’t that fun? Harry is being the “best” at something... and Hermione doesn’t like it.
Incredibly, and to Hermione’s increasing resentment, Harry’s best subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Prince.
she seems
The only person who did not find these charms amusing was Hermione, who maintained a rigidly disapproving expression throughout and refused to talk at all if Harry had used the Muffliato spell on anyone in the vicinity.
to hate
Hermione's expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class. She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this irritating sight than anything else, Harry bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a few pages with unnecessary force.
that Harry is doing great.
(Oh look. Harry is irritated at the mere sight of Hermione. Well that’s definitely a hint they should marry!!! /s)
“Are you telling me,” said Hermione, “that you're going to go back—?”
“And get the book? Yeah, I am,” said Harry forcefully. "Listen, without the Prince I'd never have won the Felix Felicis. I'd never have known how to save Ron from poisoning, I'd never have—”
“—got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don't deserve,” said Hermione nastily.
And then let’s remember Hermione still nattering about Occlumency through Deathly Hallows, or how she breaks Harry’s wand and Harry is “desiring nothing more than to get away from her”, and all that... ah but of course you won’t ever see that in all your “Harmony” analyses, because there’s no way to spin that positively... ha ha ha...
Accomplishing his mission from Dumbledore? Saving Ron’s life? Nah, Hermione is more concerned with one thing: having her top spot back.
*slow clap* Friend. Of. The. Year. Why does anyone like this character again? Selfish brat.
he reminds her that there are more important things than books and cleverness
You have again stolen Ron’s qualities to pretend they’re Harry’s/Hermione’s.
And here they come... the receipts... all the receipts...
This happens right during the Firebolt fight. It’s still Ron who cares for Hermione, even though he’s angry with her, while Harry is like “oh ok but gotta finish Snape’s essay tho”. Priorities.
“How’s she doing it?” Ron muttered to Harry one evening as Harry sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape. Harry looked up. Hermione was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.
“Doing what?”
“Getting to all her classes!” Ron said. “I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday’s lesson, but Hermione can’t’ve been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she’s never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she’s never missed one of them either!”
Harry didn’t have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione’s impossible schedule at the moment; he really needed to get on with Snape’s essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Wood. - Prisoner of Azkaban
It’s Ron who understands that Hermione is driving herself mad. Ron, not Harry. Bye, can’t hear you over the canon facts.
“I don’t believe it!” Hermione wailed. “Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Malfoy, I was thinking about him and I lost track of things!”
“You know what, Hermione?” said Ron, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermione had been using as a pillow. “I reckon you’re cracking up. You’re trying to do too much.”
“No, I’m not!” said Hermione, brushing her hair out of her eyes and staring hopelessly around for her bag. “I just made a mistake, that’s all! I’d better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry... I’ll see you in Divination!” - Prisoner of Azkaban
Later on...
Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.
"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops - sorry, 'Arry -" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!"
"Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."
And she refused to eat another bite.
[…]
"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"
But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up. - Goblet of Fire, chapter 12
Dinner was a subdued affair that night. Harry and Ron did not talk much, but ate with gusto, having studied hard all day. Hermione, on the other hand, kept putting down her knife and fork and diving under the table for her bag, from which she would seize a book to check some fact or figure. Ron was just telling her that she ought to eat a decent meal or she would not sleep that night, when her fork slid from her limp fingers and landed with a loud tinkle on her plate. - Order of the Phoenix, chapter 31
Hmm, now it looks to me that Harry is mostly oblivious to Hermione and it’s Ron who’s taking care of her. But hey, “hArMoAnY” I guess!
Ron's humour gets on Hermione's nerves
Fake news, it’s actually Harry’s humour that Hermione doesn’t like.
Really, just read this essay, written by someone who actually read the books without cherry-picking them, it should show you how blatanly wrong you are.
her cleverness does the same to him.
*deep breath*
WHY YOU ALWAYS LYIIIIIIN, WHY THE FUCK YOU LYIIIIIIN, OH MY GOD STOP FUCKIN LYING
Again, a comprehensive list of BOOK QUOTES because I’ve dedicated too much time to proving you wrong: https://www.quora.com/How-many-times-has-Ron-Weasley-supported-Hermione-and-told-her-how-amazing-and-talented-she-is/answer/Issy-Dodds
Anyway Anon...
Your ‘Harmony’ is built on a pile of lies, blatant Ron Weasley erasure and a creepy fetishistic obsession with making a teenage girl look like she’s the ideal life partner for a guy who blatantly does NOT want her to be his life partner. Yall have issues.
#vivi answers#ask#anti harmony#harry potter#hermione granger#ron weasley#not just the clown but the whole circus#hp meta
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 07 part two
(Masterpost)
Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
Lantern Lighting
Now we have the famous lantern scene, where everybody gets to express their character and have dates, ranging from disastrous to delightful, with the objects of their affection.
Wei Wuxian continues to be ridiculously good at drawing.
We’ve all seen Lan Wangji’s lovely first smile in the show a million times, so...let’s look at it again!
This scene is important not just because of the smile, but because there’s a distinct shift in the way they talk about their growing relationship. In the pond, it was “come visit me” and “never!” “I want to be your friend” “No need.” Basically Lan Wangji firmly saying no to Wei Wuxian’s offers of friendship.
This time, Wei Wuxian says “let’s do this together” and Lan Wangji says “I’m used to being alone,” which is not actually a No, just an explanation. And WWX says, you can change that. And then Lan Wangji DOES change it, sharing the lantern and the promise with Wei Wuxian.
Whoever painted this flower is even better than Wei Wuxian at plein air painting.
(more after the cut!)
Everybody’s wishes
Nie Huasang makes a practical wish. Wen Qing prays for her brother and Jiang Cheng notices how she’s like Yanli. Jiang Cheng isn’t very intense about Wen Qing, which could be a sign of his shyness but could also be a sign of his gayness or aceness. After all, later in life he’s an apparently wealthy clan leader who is hot as fuck, and needs an heir, since his nephew is a Jin. But he’s still not married, 16 years after breaking up with and uh, helping to kill and cremate, the girl he liked in summer school.
The Promise We Made Together
Wei Wuxian makes an ultra-idealistic wish/promise while Lan Wangji watches and falls the rest of the way in love with him, and silently makes the same pledge inside his head. Later they will each refer to this as a promise they made together, which is a really super high level of face-reading by Wei Wuxian, to understand that he really is speaking for both of them here. While making this promise, Lan Wangji brings out his Yin Iron Magic Bag and waves it around in front of everyone, but nobody notices.
Let’s take a moment to consider *why* this moment is so powerful for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is a boy whose emotions are always on the boil. He’s 100% upset all the time, at this age, and he keeps it clamped down all the time. His cultivation level is probably as high as it is partly because of all the work he does in emotion regulation. (note: if you haven’t read all the meta at @howpeacefulislwj , go read it; it’s awesome and hilarious)
Wei Wuxian doesn’t GAF about emotion regulation; he just expresses what he feels, all the damn time.
He is openly bored, lusty, playful, hungry, whiny. He straight up tells Lan Wangji “you’re boring and you have a stick up your ass” as part of saying he wants to be friends; no deference and also no falseness.
And he can see right through Lan Wangji’s reserve, barging into his loneliness and isolation without any regard for all of his wards. Wards are made to be broken.
(Unrelated note: Young Lan Wangji's rare moments of contentment seem to come from looking at something beautiful--the moon, falling petals, these lanterns, his mirror.)
But Wei Wuxian is also good. Lan Wangji desperately wants to be good. And here’s Wei Wuxian embodying this awful, amazing, tempting alternative path, in which all the interesting things in life get explored thoroughly, all the sweetness and beauty gets consumed unreservedly, all the pain and ugliness gets confronted and endured without hesitation.
In this moment, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji “you can change,” and then offers up this prayer/promise that is just pure chivarly, speaking straight to Lan Wangji’s heart. Very simply, I want to spend my life doing right. Not 3500 rules; just one.
This infuriating boy, who breaks rules and who flirts indiscriminately and who pushes and pushes and pushes, reveals himself in this moment to be a hero at the beginning of his journey, and Lan Wangji sees it, and his heart goes right over the cliff.
The Girls’ Room
The girl cultivators all rush over to Yanli to get in her business about her betrothal, inspiring Jin Zixuan to act like a jerk to her and get even further onto Wei Wuxian’s bad side.
Talk Shit, Get Hit
Yanli’s wish was that Wei Wuxian would grow up and be good. He promptly launches his own personal Sunshot campaign, punching her fiancee so hard that the sun falls out of the sky and the previously well-lit scene transitions to full night.
So, in English, “don’t mention it again” is really mild, akin to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wei Wuxian’s reaction makes it seem like Jin Zixuan said something really shitty, like “don’t you dare mention that woman to me!” So I’m assuming something is being lost in translation.
Lan Wangji tries to calm him down. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s sexy arm muscle and basically holds it until the Jiangs exit the scene.
Nie Huaisang has placed himself between the opposing factions, which is unusually direct of him. In the future he’ll stick to being an unindicted co-conspirator when Wei Wuxian starts trouble.
Ants in my Pants
Lan Wangji thinks kneeling can make Wei Wuxian cry, which is adorable of him.
He really relishes this opportunity to be a pedantic tool to his new boyfriend that annoying boy he hardly ever touches, and it really doesn’t work out for him, poor lamb.
Jiang Fengmian stops by to show exactly how deep his affection for Wei Wuxian runs, and to give him whiplash from constantly changing parental expectations. In a couple of hours he’ll be laughing over WWX & JC’s hijinks.
Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to fantasize about bad things happening to the other boy in the fight, which is in no way foreshadowing of anything.
Douche Dads Conference
We now convene this meeting of the douchebag council. Jiang Cheng is also invited even though he’s a prick, not a douche. <--important distinction
This is our first time meeting Clan Leader Jin Guangshan. He's actually the most sensible and best parent in this scene, but his smug self-satisfaction hints at his true nature. This actor, Shen Xiaohai, has been active in cdramas for a long while now. I wonder what he looked like 15 years ago?
...Holy mother of god.
Jiang Fengmian is the worst dad and the worst husband here. His clan believes in letting children do what they want - uhh YOUR child wants to marry Jin Zixuan. “I wrote a letter to her mother, who arranged this marriage.” Uhhh she arranged for her sickly, low-cultivation-level, sweet and vulnerable child to marry the heir of a rich and powerful clan, with a powerful mother-in-law who’s looking forward to loving and protecting her. Basically she’s guaranteed her daughter’s safety and comfort, and even potential happiness, since her husband may learn to appreciate her (and in fact, does, thanks to soup and repeated beatings from WWX).
Mom worked hard and probably spent a fair amount of social capital to achieve this. And you’re going to toss that aside because the boy thinks he’s too good for her? What the everloving fuck, how are you a clan leader in the first place?
You can see that Jiang Cheng understands all of this and what a terrible choice his father is making here.
So do the other adults in the room.
Jin Guangshen: our wives are going to kill us
Lan Qiren: I'm looking at a couple of dead men
Jiang Fengmian pointedly won’t listen to Jiang Cheng or let him speak, showing that all his talk about being free is actually bullshit, that only applies to other people’s children.
Jiang Chang vaults off of the deck to tell Wei Wuxian about it. Hottt
Sorry Sis
Wei Wuxian goes to Jiang Yanli to sorta-apologize and sorta ask to be let off the hook for fucking up her engagement, which he absolutely did. He knows it, which is presumably why he bows to her in paperman form while hiding outside.
At no time has Jiang Yanli indicated to anyone that she doesn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan, as far as I can see, or said she wanted to be defended from insults with punching. Look how good SHE is at defending a person from insults, for comparison.
Yin Iron Blah Blah Blah
The senior Lans meet with Jiang Fengmian to talk about the Yawn Yin Iron. Yawn.
Jiang Fengmian addresses Lan Xichen as Lan Gongzi, which is adorable, since he is a big boy to everyone else. His family calls him Xichen and other people call him Zewu-Jun.
Farewell and Fuck You
The three Jiang kids come to say goodbye.
Lan Quiren says goodbye with a heap of criticism for Wei Wuxian and the horse he rode in on, and Jiang Fengmian basically says, yep, that’s what he’s like, all right.
Good thing Wei Ying gets so much verbal abuse at home he doesn’t take it very hard when he finds it in the field.
Wangji doesn’t say goodbye properly, which will be a recurring theme for the two of them.
I don’t know if this is because he has a problem with goodbyes, or is just being a jerk, or because he’s so bad at lying he doesn’t dare talk to Wei Wuxian lest he reveal his travel plans.
Indulgent Dad Continues to be the Worst
Jiang Cheng complains at Wei Wuxian for wanting to say goodbye to Lan Wangji, and WWX says he likes him because he is equal to WWX in fighting, whereas JC sucks. JC hits him tries to hit him--gosh, he DOES suck, comparatively.
Yanli, who has been keeping these boys in line all summer, sighs deeply at her Dad’s tolerance for their hijinks. OP has five brothers and this sibling-hijinks behavior is 100% accurate, except for the part where it is happening at someone else’s house in front of the hosts.
WWX pretending to be Lan Qiren where Lan Wangji can see him doing it, in front of Lan Qiren’s colleague and supposed friend, and just earning a laugh from the patriarch? Good lord. Dad Jiang tolerating this is shocking, particularly in the in-show culture where corporal punishment is as common as tea.
We’ve tried Nothing, and we’re all out of ideas!
Uggghh why are you like this?
Here in the real world, OP uses “positive discipline” with her child, and encourages other parents to consider it, particularly if your child is neuroatypical or asynchronous. That said, JF should be punishing the crap out of both boys for this behavior every time it happens, or should quit being a clan leader. He’s relying on Jiang Yanli to keep them in line while he gets to just be amused by them. And he’s letting Lan Qiren discipline Wei Wuxian instead of doing it himself. He suuuuuuucks.
Lan Wangji watches all of this. Lan Xichen reminds Lan Wangji that without Wei Wuxian, he’s completely fucking miserable. Lan Wangji still doesn’t plan to bring him along on his trip, though.
Time to return to our lives of crushing loneliness
Rabbits
At this same moment when Lan Wangji is staring down the barrel of future loneliness, Wei Wuxian is already deciding to leave the (forbidden) rabbits in Cloud Recesses “In case Lan Zhan gets lonely.” This small decision by Wei Wuxian - breaking the rules of Cloud Recesses for the millionth time - is kinder than he knows. Because what is the job of these rabbits? Let’s have a desaturated flashback.
Lan Zhan spent 3 years in the ice cave. The rabbits kept Lan Yi company in the ice cave. So...did the rabbits sneak in to keep Lan Wangji company in the ice cave as well? I’m going to say yes. By ep 43 they are following him to the gate of Cloud Recesses so they are very attached to him. Well done, Wei Ying.
Where my bitches at? Seriously, our warren needs bitches
(Is Watership Down still a thing people read? If not, just go ahead and assume all of OP’s rabbit jokes are about Watership Down because OP ain’t going to stop making them)
While Wei Wuxian annoys the bunny he has a flashback to the scene that happened 4 minutes earlier. The Untamed editors assume the viewership has the attention span of a goldfish, and I personally appreciate that they understand me so well.
Wei Wuxian figures out that Lan Wangji is going on the road alone, and tells the bunny immediately. The bunny is very concerned.
Writing Prompt: What do next-generation cultivators Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wish for at lantern-lighting time?
#fytheuntamed#the untamed#wangxian#the untamed gifs#cdrama#chen qing ling#restless rewatch the untamed#canary3d-original#my gifs#the untamed spoilers
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