#I queued this for as close to midnight as I could.

[dokries]

moonrise

pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff/comfort, established relationship

word count: 564

warnings: the moon is talked about like it’s a sentient being cause i’m sentimental, a forehead kiss, can be read as existential in a way but it doesn’t have to be, Big Promises, there is so much implied in their words that even i can’t figure it out

author note: happy birthday to me :) (this is queued!) to me these still seem like midnight ramblings from a month ago but i hope you enjoy reading nonetheless! this goes hand in hand with sunset but they’re not directly connected, just written with the same things in mind and the same late times

masterlist

he stares at you, unsure of what your pensive look means as he says your name, his voice a gentle reminder of him being by your side. 

“you alright?” joshua asks, concern etched into the way his tone shifts to a whisper at the end, blending into the air around you, the window open in his room to let the two of you see the sky clearly.

you turn towards him, and he’s entranced by the way the moonlight shifts on your skin, creating shadows and plateaus on your face he never noticed before.

“the moon is so beautiful,” you say instead, his previous question left to swirl into the breeze that was now picking up.

joshua smiles, shaking his head, and you know it’s him silently agreeing with you.

“it knows so much more than we could ever seek to understand, doesn’t it?” you ask, and his eyebrows furrow at the thought before he nods.

“it’s seen all the emotions that exist in our languages and those left unsaid—rage, resentment, regret…” joshua holds your hand in his as he continues quietly. “love, compassion, and comfort. it knows all these personally, all while never experiencing them itself.”

you hum in agreement, and the two of you go back to staring up at the subject of your musing. 

“i wonder if it ever judges us—if we’re hated for our foolishness and mistakes that it’s seen us repeat for millennia.” 

you let the silent question hang in the air. am i too foolish to be with you?

joshua turns to you once more, squeezing your hand in response before speaking. “eventually, i think it may be proud to see our achievements, the way we continue to love despite our circumstances.” 

no, you never could be.

his shoulder brushes against yours and you sigh, warmth seeping into your arms at first before slowly reaching your neck and your head, and finally manifesting in your temple once he places his lips on your forehead. 

joshua pulls away too quickly, and the sun does not take over the moon as you thought it would while he was pressed against you. 

he smiles softly, bringing his arms around to wrap you in his grasp. maybe the sun has come out, the light on your eyelids too bright to be false as you close them.

you both sigh in unison as he places a hand over the back of your head, shielding the two of you from the breeze. he lets go after a moment to close the window, even though he doesn’t want to move from your side, and leaves flutter in with the scent of jasmine as he sits down beside you once more. 

joshua tries for a wide grin and when you chuckle softly, he knows that it’s alright to hold your hands and whisper as he looks into your eyes. “my love for you will stay with the moon for the next lives we live, even if they are apart.”

you smile softly, your touch holding a thousand promises left unspoken. “our lives will not be without each other, and the moon will stay with us for the moments we are unable to be together.”

joshua’s eyes slide back to the calm surroundings outside the comfort of your company and his shoulders slump down against you, desperately hoping that the moon will keep your foolish wish alive. 

[kookienooki]

Melodies of Seduction | Ch. 5

❀ summary: With platinum albums and millions of adoring fans, Yeon-jin thought she knew exactly where her music career was headed. But when her manager drops an unexpected bombshell—BTS' golden maknae Jungkook wants to collaborate on an R&B album—her carefully planned world spins into beautiful chaos.

Between late-night recording sessions, stolen glances across the studio, and harmonies that seem to sync with more than just their voices, Yeon-jin finds herself composing a different kind of song altogether. One that could either launch her to new heights of stardom or leave her heart in free fall.

The question is: in an industry where every move is scrutinized and romance is taboo, can two of K-pop's brightest stars risk it all for a love that wasn't part of the production plan?

❀ pairing : idol!Jungkook x idol!oc

❀ genre: idol AU, romance, angst, fluff, eventual smut, im not sure what else

❀ rating: 18+

❀ word count: 2,228

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Chapter 5: Breaking Point

Yeon-jin found herself unconsciously smoothing the sleeve of her cream cashmere sweater, a nervous habit she thought she'd outgrown years ago. The preview session had been scheduled for 9 AM sharp, but she'd arrived an hour early, needing the quiet to center herself before what she knew would be a pivotal moment in her career.

Eight weeks of recording had produced six nearly complete songs, each one a carefully crafted fusion of their distinct styles. The studio had become a second home, filled with takeout containers from late-night sessions, scattered musical notations, and the lingering energy of breakthrough moments. They'd pushed themselves beyond their comfort zones, experimenting with harmonies that dove deeper than either of them had dared before.

Jungkook arrived at 8:30, dressed in a simple black buttondown and fitted slacks that somehow made him look both professional and rebellious. His hair was slightly disheveled, telling her he'd probably been up all night tweaking arrangements. Their eyes met across the room, and a small smile passed between them – the kind of wordless communication they'd developed over their intense collaboration.

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked as he slipped into the chair beside her, the scent of his cologne – something woody and expensive – mixing with the coffee he set down.

"Maybe an hour." He ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. "I couldn't stop thinking about the bridge in 'Best Part' I made some adjustments to the vocal arrangement around three AM."

"Show me," she said, already reaching for her tablet. Their shoulders touched as they leaned over the device together, his finger tracing the new harmony line he'd added. The change was subtle but brilliant, adding an emotional depth that had been just out of reach before.

"It's perfect," she breathed, and his answering smile made her heart skip in a way she wasn't ready to examine too closely.

The room began to fill with executives and producers, each carrying identical leather portfolios and expressions of careful neutrality. Yeon-jin recognized most of them – she'd been in the industry long enough to know all the major players. There was Kim Sung-ho, head of A&R, whose approval could make or break careers. Beside him, Park Min-jung, marketing director, already typing rapidly on her phone. In the corner, Lee Jae-wook, BigHit's senior producer, who'd been instrumental in shaping K-pop's sound for the past decade.

Na Ra slipped in just before nine, taking her usual position slightly behind Yeon-jin's chair. Her manager's presence was reassuring – they'd weathered countless meetings like this together over the years. But something felt different today. The stakes were higher, the tension more palpable.

"Shall we begin?" Kim Sung-ho's voice cut through the quiet murmur of conversation. He nodded to the sound engineer, who began queuing up their tracks.

The first notes of "Midnight in Seoul" filled the room, the haunting piano intro Yeon-jin had composed giving way to Jungkook's rich baritone. They'd recorded this one first, when they were still finding their collaborative rhythm. His voice wrapped around the Korean verses while she provided ethereal harmonies, until the chorus brought them together in a blend that still gave her chills.

She watched the executives' faces carefully, years of experience helping her read the subtle signs. The slight tightening around Sung-ho's eyes. The way Min-jung's fingers stilled on her phone. The almost imperceptible shake of Jae-wook's head.

The final notes faded, leaving the room in heavy silence. Yeon-jin could hear her own heartbeat, too loud in her ears. She'd been in this industry for fifteen years, had faced countless criticism and feedback sessions, but something about this moment felt different. Perhaps because she'd never cared quite this much before.

"It's very... artistic," Kim Sung-ho said finally, his tone carefully diplomatic. The word 'artistic' hung in the air like an accusation. "But we need to think about commercial appeal. The market expectations for a project of this scale—"

"The market doesn't know what it wants until we show them," Jungkook interrupted, his usually respectful demeanor showing cracks. There was a collective intake of breath around the table – interrupting a senior executive was practically unheard of. "This is exactly the kind of music we should be making."

"Jungkook-ssi," Park Min-jung began, her marketing director's smile firmly in place, "your position as a global artist carries certain responsibilities. We need to consider—"

"What about artistic responsibility?" Yeon-jin found herself speaking up, surprising everyone, including herself. The words seemed to come from somewhere deep inside, where she'd buried years of compromise and careful compliance. "We're not just making products. We're creating something meaningful."

The room fell silent. She could feel Na Ra's shock radiating from behind her. Yeon-jin had never directly challenged company decisions like this. She'd always been the professional one, the reliable one, the one who understood the business side of music.

"Perhaps we should take a short break," Lee Jae-wook suggested, his tone making it clear this wasn't really a suggestion. The room quickly emptied, leaving Yeon-jin and Jungkook alone with their producers and Na Ra.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Through the windows, Seoul's skyline shimmered in the late morning sun, the city carrying on its usual rhythm while their artistic world threatened to implode.

"They want us to change everything," one of their producers, Min-ho, said quietly. He'd been with them through every session, understanding their vision from the start. "Make it more... accessible."

"You mean make it generic," Jungkook responded, his frustration evident in every word. "Strip away everything that makes it unique."

Yeon-jin stood, needing to move, to think. The executives' suggestions ran through her mind: "More commercial." "Less experimental." "Simplify the harmonies." "Add more English lyrics." "Make it trending-friendly." Each requirement felt like a betrayal of what they'd created.

She caught Jungkook watching her, his dark eyes intense. They'd spent countless hours together over the past two months, learning each other's musical instincts, building something that transcended their individual styles. The thought of compromising that vision made her physically ill.

When the executives returned, their requirements were laid out in careful, corporate language. They wanted substantial changes to at least four of the six tracks. "Best Part" would need to be completely reworked, its complex harmonies simplified, its lyrics made more "accessible" to a global audience.

Yeon-jin watched Jungkook's jaw clench during the meeting, noting how his hands gripped the armrests of his chair. She could feel the tension radiating from him, the careful control he was maintaining. His reputation for professionalism was legendary, but she could see the cracks forming.

The meeting ended with polite bows and careful promises to "consider all feedback." As soon as the last executive left, Jungkook was on his feet, energy crackling around him like electricity before a storm.

"Studio," he said simply, and Yeon-jin nodded, following him to the elevator. Na Ra trailed behind them, her heels clicking against the marble floors, her silence speaking volumes about her concern.

The familiar space of Yeon-jin's studio should have been calming, but today it felt charged with potential energy. Afternoon sun streamed through the windows, catching the dust motes in the air and casting Jungkook's shadow long across the floor as he paced. The walls, covered in acoustic panels and carefully chosen artwork, had witnessed countless creative breakthroughs. Now they seemed to hold their breath, waiting.

"This isn't why I wanted to work with you," he said finally, stopping at the window. The city sprawled below them, a maze of buildings and dreams and compromises. "I wanted to make something real. Something that honored both our musical journeys."

She caught his hand as he passed her again, stopping his restless movement. The contact was bold and unexpected. His skin was warm against hers, and she felt him freeze at the touch. During their time working together, they'd maintained a careful physical distance, despite the emotional intimacy of their music.

"Then let's make something real," she said, surprising herself with the conviction in her voice.

He turned to face her, their hands still connected. "They won't support it."

"Since when has that stopped either of us?" She smiled, remembering all the times she'd pushed boundaries in her career, all the small rebellions that had led to her biggest breakthroughs. "You were the one who told me to trust the music."

His expression softened, and he squeezed her hand gently before letting go. "You remember that?"

"I remember everything about these sessions." The admission slipped out before she could stop it, hanging in the air between them. The late-night conversations about music and life. The way he brought her favorite coffee without being asked. The moment their voices first blended perfectly in harmony, creating something greater than either of them alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The studio felt smaller somehow, more intimate. Outside, Seoul continued its endless rhythm, but in here, time seemed to pause. The air between them felt charged with possibility and something else – something they'd both been carefully avoiding acknowledging.

"We could release it independently," Jungkook said suddenly, energy returning to his voice.

"That would be career suicide," Na Ra's voice cut through the moment. Neither of them had heard her enter. She stood in the doorway, her expression a mixture of concern and resignation. "The companies would never allow it."

"They might," Yeon-jin said slowly, an idea forming. She moved to her computer, pulling up their rough mix of "Best Part." The track that most perfectly blended their styles, their voices dancing between Korean and English.

As the music filled the studio, she remembered recording this one. It had been late, most of the building empty. They'd ordered chicken and beer. Something about the night had felt magical – every take better than the last, their creative energy feeding off each other until they'd created something extraordinary.

"We leak it," she said, turning to face them. "Just this one song. No announcement, no promotion. Let the music speak for itself."

"That's extremely risky," Na Ra warned, but Yeon-jin could see the consideration in her manager's eyes. After all these years, Na Ra knew when her artist was right about music. She'd been there through every triumph and setback, understanding that sometimes the biggest risks led to the greatest rewards.

"Everything worth doing is risky," Jungkook said, moving to stand beside Yeon-jin. The warmth of his presence steadied her, as it had so many times during their recording sessions. "But if anyone can pull this off, it's us."

They worked through the night, perfecting every detail of "Best Part." The familiar routine of studio work took on new meaning, each decision weighted with the knowledge of what they were about to do. They adjusted levels, tweaked effects, refined every harmony until it shone.

Yeon-jin found herself watching Jungkook as he recorded one final harmony line, his face illuminated by the soft studio lights. He'd shed his formal clothes hours ago, now wearing just a black t-shirt and jeans, looking younger and somehow more himself. His dedication to perfection matched her own, each of them pushing the other to be better.

Na Ra ordered food around midnight, then again at 3 AM, keeping them fueled as they worked. She made calls, prepared statements, laid groundwork for damage control. Her efficiency was both impressive and slightly terrifying – a reminder of just how much was at stake.

As dawn broke over Seoul, casting the studio in soft pink light, they had something that was entirely, uniquely theirs. No compromises, no commercial considerations—just pure artistic truth. The final mix of "Best Part" played through the speakers, their voices weaving together in perfect harmony, tradition and innovation becoming one.

The song told their story without telling it – the unexpected connection, the creative spark, the way two distinct paths could converge to create something new.

"Once we do this, there's no going back," Yeon-jin said as they listened to the final mix one last time. The morning light caught the silver in her hair – she'd stopped dyeing it completely black a few years ago, another small act of defiance against industry standards.

Jungkook took her hand again, this time with purpose. His fingers were slightly callused from guitar playing, warm against her skin. "I don't want to go back. Forward is the only way."

Na Ra watched them from the doorway, her expression unreadable. She'd seen Yeon-jin through countless career decisions, but nothing quite like this. "I'll start preparing damage control. You two just... be ready for what comes next."

The city was waking up outside, the first hints of morning traffic beginning to build. Soon, the business of music would resume – contracts and expectations, markets and trends.

The sun rose fully over Seoul, marking the beginning of a new day and a new chapter in both their careers. Their song played one final time through the studio speakers, a declaration of artistic independence and something more – something neither of them was quite ready to name, but both could feel in the spaces between the notes.

They had created something beautiful, something true. Now it was time to share it with the world, consequences be damned.

Na Ra's heels clicked against the floor as she returned, phone in hand. "If we're really doing this, the file needs to be ready in an hour. The morning news cycle is about to begin."

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。✯¸.•'*¨'*•✿(◕‿◕)✿ •*'¨*'•.¸✯❀。• *₊°。 ❀° ❀

A/N: sorry it took so long to post this chapter, I've been so busy it was hard to find a good time to edit but I'm back and will be uploading chapter 6 tomorrow. I'm also in the process of writing a new book so look out for that one as well!

taglist: @jkxlvrr

[energievie]

WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY

Thank you, darlings 🤗😍 @mybrainismelted @kiennilove @suzy-queued

---

This week we are going to talk about Holiday Traditions!

Name: Evie

Where in the world are you? Bucharest, Romania

What holiday do you and/or your family celebrate at this time of year? Gonna go with New Year's too, mainly because Christmas is severely overrated 😅 🫣

Does your family get together to celebrate? Nah, Christmas is for family, New Year's Eve is for friends 😜

Are there any traditional foods for the holiday? It's called "salată (de) boeuf" (beef salad, although it's usually made with chicken or cold cuts or no meat at all). People make way too much of it and end up eating at least until 3rd January 😅 Oh, and decorating it is an entire thing and art!

Do you typically decorate for your holiday? No, but the Christmas tree stays up until at least mid-January.

Tell me about your favourite holiday memory: Oh, there are tons! I think my favourite was 8 or 9 years ago. We were around 15 people at a friend's house at the seaside, though I think more people came throughout the night? The house was huge and different things were happening in each room and there was also different music in each of them? Like, a couple of people were playing on a PlayStation in one room, others were playing a drinking game in another, etc, etc. One of the best New Year's Eve parties!

What is the significance of the holiday you are celebrating? Closing a chapter and starting a new one. I was a lot more excited about it as a teen because it was a chance to party all night with parents' approval 😅 It's still fun, but I'm not as phsyched, mainly because it takes me a lot more to make up for a night of lost sleep.

If there was one thing you could change about this holiday, what would it be? Those stupid, small firecrackers that you light up and then just throw on the ground. Apart from being illegal over here, they're also dangerous and completely pointless.

Anything else you want to tell me about your holiday? Tradition says you have to eat fish and grapes (for good luck), wear red (for luck in love) and have money on you at midnight (so the next year is prosperous).

---

Tagging @sisitrip @sgtmickeyslaughter @look-i-love-u @too-schoolforcool @michellemisfit @deathclassic @jrooc @callivich @sickness-health-all-that-shit @lupeloto @doshiart @wehangout @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @sleepyfacetoughguy @atthedugouts @creepkinginc @catgrassplantdad @crossmydna @spacerockwriting @lingy910y @deedala @firendeavor @heymrspatel @thepupperino @blue-disco-lights @francesrose3 @transmurderbug @darlingian @vintagelacerosette @celestialmickey @palepinkgoat @stocious @spookygingerr @burninface @gallawitchxx and ANYONE else who'd like to play 😎

[sillymonkeywriting]

UHM THIS IS MY FIRST EVER REQ SO I HOPE I'M DOING THIS RIGHT. I loved your Shinji writing sm. I would love it if you could write [g/n] reader making a midnight snack with Shinji. No more stresses of school or tartarus for now just happily munching on stuff together before it's time to hit the sack. And maybe he tucks you in bc you nagged him THANKS MATE 👍

Hi!!! Thank you so much, I am honored to be your first request!!!! ( ´ ▽ ` ) I hope you like it...!!!

anmitsu (shinjiro x GN reader)

It was a warm June night.

All of your dormmates were fast asleep in their rooms, with all the gentleness of a baby who tuckered itself out from crying. An era of peace rested with you and your teammates… By some miracle, you are all happy and healthy.

Yes, everyone was snoozing away - Aside from Shinjiro and yourself. At this time of night, Midnight, you enjoyed time alone together.

Shinji sat upright on one of the lounge area’s couches, while you laid your head on his lap. Your eyes were on the TV, and his eyes were on you, his hand petting your head as you watched the cooking show he put on intently.

“Are… Are you sure you’re fine with watching this?”

He spoke quietly, with a slightly dry throat causing his voice to come out hoarse. Naturally, you looked up at him and reassured him that you liked watching this show with him.

“Hm,” He smiled, caressing your cheek with the backside of his hand. It felt like a feather tickling you.

Both of you looked at the screen now - The dish from earlier had finished being prepared, and they moved onto the next. Now they had begun to prepare a bowl of Anmitsu, a traditional dessert from the Meiji Era. Some example photos popped up on the screen, it looked so refreshing… Your stomach loudly growled.Shinji turned his attention back to you, and you hid your face with your hands, embarrassed that your emotions portrayed themselves so easily. He snickered at you, petting you again, offering reassurance.

“Hungry?” He asked you simply, since he already knew the answer.

“Anmitsu,” you repeated. “I’ve never had it…”

“ ‘S That so…”

A moment of silence passed. He scratched his cheek, eyes wandering to the front door as he thought.

“You wanna try it?”

You looked at him in happy disbelief, sitting up a little. You excitedly asked if he knew how to make it.

“Course I do,” he said, looking back at the screen to watch as they prepared it on the television. “Not like it’s hard. And, we have a couple of the ingredients here. Hm…”

He lightly tapped your shoulder, queuing you to let him stand up. After stretching a little, he looked back at you and gave you another small, yet warm smile. He grabbed his wallet off of the coffee table, and began to walk towards the entrance.

“Wait, are you going to the store? Let me go with you,” you said, suddenly feeling a bit guilty.

“No, you stay here,” He told you while slipping his shoes on. “I’m not gonna let you walk around at this hour. I won’t take long, promise.”

You weren’t feeling particularly stubborn tonight, so you decided to let him go. Not before telling him to be safe, though. He smiled, and you felt like you had ascended to heaven, seeing him smile so much in one night. When the door closed, indicating his departure, you turned your head back to the TV. About 20 minutes passed, and just as you were about to nod off, the front door opened again. You stumbled up from the couch to greet him, smiling with a sleepy face. He chuckled at your expression, reaching out to ruffle your hair.

“Sorry… That took a little longer than I thought. I had to stop by another store on the way home.”

You shook your head, telling him that it was okay. He thanked you, and took off his shoes again, heading for the kitchen. You followed him giddily, shaking away your drowsiness.

He wasted no time in preparing everything in the kitchen he would be using to prepare the Anmitsu. Curiously, he only brought out one serving bowl… You guessed that maybe he didn’t want any, and your heart hurt as you realized he was doing all of this just for you. You tugged his shirt, asking him if there was anything you could do to help.

“Hmm… You can stir the water and agar-agar powder while I prepare the fruit.. Just gimme a sec to get it going.”

You watched him with admiration as he filled a pot with water, mixing the ingredients together. You knew that he didn’t want you to do anything. He was probably just letting you stir so that you wouldn’t feel bad. Eventually you were in front of the pot, stirring as Shinjiro got out the store-bought dango. He stepped in between you and the pot before you knew it, telling you that you did a good job before pouring the hot mixture into a baking dish. He stuck that into the fridge, urging you to take a seat for a moment.

You did as you were told again, wishing to soak up his kindness like a sponge.

He brought out the cutting board, and turned to face you. “What kinda fruit do you want in it? We have a couple fruits in the fridge right now.”

You told him your preferences and he nodded, retrieving your selection.

The rest happened in a flash, he cut the agar-agar jelly into cubes, sliding them into the bowl he set out earlier. Next came the red-bean paste, the dango, the fruit, the Kuromitsu syrup, and finally a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Shinjo brought the bowl over, gently setting it in front of you. Your eyes sparkled with amazement, and he handed you your spoon, with a surprising amount of smugness, small as it was.

You thanked him for the food, and dug in. It was just as delicious as you imagined… He watched you eat it with a warm expression.

“Here Shinji,” you said, “Please have some.”

He hesitated, but after you gave him puppy eyes, he opened his mouth for you. You gave him the best spoonful you could manage, and fed him.

His cheeks warmed as he accepted.

“Isn’t it yummy,” you inquired.

He got a little more embarrassed at your praise, but he nodded.

As you finished the bowl, you gave him more spoonfuls, and he bashfully accepted all of them. Once you got to your last bite, you began to feel sleepy again, hazily setting your spoon down…You thanked him again, reaching out to hold one of his hands.

“I think it’s time to go to bed,” he got up from his chair, moving closer to you to help you out of yours. You agreed, rubbing your eyes as you stood up, holding onto him. You felt a little sad to be parting ways, even if you were both just going back to your rooms. You pleaded with him, asking if he would sleep with you in your bed.

“Huh?” he choked, looking surprised at you. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

You grumbled, and he sighed with restraint. As the two of you ascended upstairs, you spoke up again with another request.

“Can you at least tuck me in?”

He studied you, sighing again, but with a softness this time. “Alright, alright… Do you know how hard it is to say no to you…?”

While in your room, he helped you into bed, pulling back your blankets, and letting them fall gently back over you once you laid down. He smoothed your comforter out, and switched off the lights.

“Goodnight,” he said, and then attempted to exit.

You whined, and he turned around, shyly approaching you again. You asked him where your kiss was. He sighed his deepest sigh of the night, and leaned down, his lips ever so lightly brushing your cheek.

You finally told him goodnight, and fell asleep before you could memorize the cute face he was making.

[crisismothwalks]

Nightime bug photos :D pt 2

Okay I am back from the woods. I tripped in a gopher hole and hurt my ankle and also walked through elbow high stinging nettles in shorts but it was so worth it. I have lots of photos so I'll be queuing up a lot of posts to get them all out. I'm writing this at midnight so pardon any mistakes.

obligatory 'I had a phone camera, a headlamp, and shaky hands' so don't judge

Photo time! [nefarious beast edition] (more under cut cuz long)

this was a BIG moth. it was also up in a tree and I had to climb to get this photo. it flew away before I could get closer. it's some kind of sphinx moth, guessing a waved sphinx as I've seen one around before and it looked similar.

photos of it from the ground. I was so close to getting a good photo but it got antsy when I shone light at it. it does not enjoy being perceived.

snagged a photo of this fella while in the tree so it was worth it :)

bonus blurry one of these 2 friends in the same tree :D

this guy was also in a tree but it was not a climbable tree. I'm pretty sure it was a katydid but it looked like it was laying eggs? it had it's abdomen curled to the tree as helpfully illustrated above.

Alright this is my 6th time making this post (but much faster on computer!) and I've decided I'm gonna theme each post from my walk so this one is dedicated to the blurry high in the tree fellas hence the nefarious beast edition. I think the nefarious moth did not want to be perceived but I'm confident the post will work this time.

[honeypiecastiel]

Queued for midnight in my timezone to celebrate the fifth while I either am asleep or crying over the confession scene.

It’s a funny thing to Dean Winchester. 

His life had been defined by momentous occasions. His mother dying, his father going crazy, a demon deal, going to hell, being rescued, the first apocalypse and so on and so forth. Each year of his life having been defined by extremely life-altering occurrences. And it wasn’t just one thing happening, it was multiple. A never-ending crescendo of heartbreak and fighting and wishing he could stop and then getting up any way. 

The definition of his life, of himself, for so long was to be a soldier and fight in a war. Without it, who would he be? Would he even be Dean Winchester?

Yet here he is, laying in bed, in the dark. It’s not a shitty motel room either, it’s a godforsaken room in his house. His dog is snoring in the dog bed at the foot of the bed peacefully and there’s a warm body laying next to him. 

Dean didn’t believe in happy endings, how could he? After everything he’d been through. He didn’t think giving himself the ability to hope for a future could even be something that came on his radar. And for a long time that future never came, it ended in the dark dungeon one fateful November 5th three years ago today. 

He turns on his side and smiles, running his hand down Cas’ side. Cas gives a tired hum, opening his eyes slowly to meet Dean’s. “What’s wrong?” 

Dean looks over at the clock, it’s midnight, November 5th, he leans in close pressing a soft kiss to Cas’ lips. He pulls back and see Cas smiling softly but with confusion written all over his face. 

“It’s the third anniversary of you telling me you loved me,” he breathes out. 

The first year had been hell, clawing through every lore he could find and screaming himself hoarse begging anything to hear him. The second year after getting Cas back was a night wrapped in nightmares and them fighting about how the confession was neccessary to save Dean and Dean screaming about how he didn’t want to be saved if it meant losing Cas. 

This year though? This year shows a long stretch of future ahead of them. Dean thinks about growing old with Cas, spending his life with him. For this first time in his life Dean allows himself to want, to dream, to hope. It’s a new feeling and he welcomes it. Dean Winchester is still Dean Winchester even without the fighting. This version of him gets to instead have dreams that become reality. 

“Hmm,” Cas hums, nuzzling into Dean’s chest and closing his eyes. “I do love you, then, now, and always.” 

Dean smiles, kissing the top of his head. “I love you, too Cas, always.” 

[usmsgutterson]

Doomsday- N.L x fem! reader

Okay, this was requested by an anon and nonnie, I’m sorry this took me a bit! I loved writing this one out--doomsday by lizzy mcalpine is one of my favorite songs by lizzy so thank you for sending this in, it was a blast to write!

Fic type- this is angst with allusions to a happy ending (more a potential one that looms in the distance--the song radiates vibes of ominance and that came through in the ending lol)

Warnings- Nikolai and how he’s described is a little ooc and this fic was written two hours ahead of the time it was queued for, so it has been proofread, just not as best as I could’ve done so. 

You were sure of one thing and one thing only as you hastily packed a bag in your room at the Little Palace.

Loving Nikolai Lantsov had killed your spirit. You needed to get away from him, go as far and as fast as you could. It was better to do it in the light and breezy Ravkan air of September rather than to bother with it, see if you could wait it out until June when leaving Ravka would be made a bit more of an inconvenience due to how hot and humid it would get, and it would get that way very quickly. 

So, you were leaving then. You were sick of it. Years, you had spent loving him only to find that the show he’d put on for others was just that. A show. 

Confidence warped itself into arrogance--though you had to wonder, had it been such all along?--and charm warped itself into something less...well, charming. 

There was good within him somewhere--he was a Lantsov by name but not by blood. Not really. There had to be--but if it still existed within him, his goodness was something you could not find. 

So off you went, packing a bag as the sun set over the walls of the Little Palace. You allowed yourself to enjoy the sunset from your gorgeous view one last time, thanked the saints that Tamar had come up with a worthwhile excuse for when Nikolai had noticed you not in bed when the night was to fall. 

Visiting family, she had said. You’d left on a trip to see your family after one of your relatives had fallen ill. That gave you a month before Nikolai had started pondering on when you would return home, not knowing that you had left your wedding ring in the top drawer of your dresser along with a note asking that he choose not to seek you out because you wouldn’t like being found. 

You waited until midnight, and then you hoisted the bag over your shoulder and left the room you’d been staying in for the five months previous, as you and Nikolai tried to work things out but found no viable solutions, no therapy that worked the miracles you had hoped for. 

You closed the door behind you as silently as you could manage, moved breezily through the hallways with footsteps so quiet that even you couldn’t hear them as you moved, rushing but a bit cautionary so as to avoid seeming suspicious.

You ordered a carriage to take you down to the harbor, told the driver that you were rushing back home to visit an ill relative so that the lie was solidified by another of Nikolais ever so gossipy staff, and tried to focus your breathing into calmness as you sat in the carriage alone. 

When you arrived at the harbor, you thanked the driver. “I shouldn’t be gone more than a month,” you’d said, solidifing another piece of the puzzle. “Thank you for dropping me off.” 

And then you scanned the harbor, found dozens of people boarding dozens of late night boats, and chose to buy a ticket and board the one heading for Novyi Zem. 

A quiet life in Cofton awaited, a whole new horizon gleaming in the distance. Part of you felt hopeful, another part relieved to finally be away from the person you had loved once upon a time, the man who was not all that he made himself seem to be. 

[etoiline]

This one makes me feel old, friends.

I was not super excited about the Hobbit or the LotR books growing up, mainly because the library copies didn't have blurbs to entice me, or fun covers to make me look (and we're talking the 80s/90s here, so no real way to look up summaries or get recommendations from friends--the friends I had were not readers like me).

So it wasn't until they started releasing info about the movies during my junior year of college (specifically that first promotional picture of Legolas, played by Orlando Bloom, oh my god did I have a crush on him) that I was like, maybe I should give these books a try. The campus bookstore had an omnibus edition of the Lord of the Rings, and I spent pretty much the entire school year working my way through it.

It was okay, but it was a bit of a slog, and while I appreciated the artistry in the dribs and drabs of info we got about the movie I wasn't all that excited to see it. The premiere date of Fellowship of the Ring was the day after the last exam of the fall semester of my senior year (for some reason they always scheduled the math class exams in the final exam slot of the final day, and let me tell you that was brutal), and when I got back to my dorm, furiously trying to get myself ready to move out for winter break, my roommate came in, said they had an extra ticket to the midnight premiere for FotR, and would I want to go?

I'd never been to a midnight premiere before, and I was so busy getting ready to leave the dorm for four weeks (I only had a few hours to get out before the dorms closed for break), but I liked my roommate, and the book was okay, and there were gonna be some handsome people in the movie, so I plucked up my courage and said yes.

I was able to find my roomie in line when I got there (oh the days before online ticket reservations), and I've never had so much fun queuing. Folks were dressed up, all sorts of Middle-Earth philosophizing going on, and when we got into the theater there was a roaming Gandalf and a Ringwraith going up and down the aisles.

And then the movie! Wow. I saw FotR five times in theater and once on a friend of a friend of a friend's ahoy-made DVD. Of course, you remember how I basically ran out of the dorm before that midnight premiere? Well, I left a lot of stuff there, because I didn't think I'd need it over break, and one of the things I left was my omnibus copy of LotR.

After that midnight premiere, I went to the bookstore (in the days when you could still walk into any of a half dozen bookstores nearby), and bought the trilogy, with the movie covers, and read them all again over the break. Because now I had faces to go with the characters, and scenery to imagine, and action sequences to compare, and it was much easier to read these lore-heavy books when armed with that information.

Needless to say, I went to the midnight premieres of The Two Towers and Return of the King as well.

[sailorsplatoon]

Can we have a one shot of Gibbous and Kaito having their first kiss at New Years? (Gibbous pulls Kaito in for a surprising kiss).

Sure thing!

———

Kaito lay sprawled out on the couch, the bucket he had been sick in just hours earlier now pushed to the side. The couch squeaked as Gibbous sat down next to him, gently placing a hand on Kaito’s shoulder.

“You feeling any better?” Gibbous asked. 

“Yeah. I think it’s all out now. That salad did a number on me though,” Kaito groaned.

Gibbous laughed a little as he rubbed Kaito’s back. “Yeah, maybe try not to catch food poisoning twice in the new year?”

“No promises,” Kaito teased. “Ooh look, it’s almost midnight. Quick, turn on Anarchy Splatcast!”

Gibbous lunged for the remote and turned on the TV as fast as he could, queuing up Anarcy Splatcast, where Deep Cut was hosting a New Years Celebration.

“The countdown is already starting! How are we so late?” Gibbous hugged Kaito as the countdown showed onscreen.

“10.” 

“9.” 

“8.” 

“7.” 

“6.” 

“5.”

“4.” 

“3.”

“2.” 

“1.”

“Happy New Ye—“ Kaito was cut off as Gibbous pulled him in fast and pressed their lips together. Kaito’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then he closed them and leaned into the kiss. 

When Gibbous eventually pulled away, he muttered, “You taste like vomit.”

Kaito let out a breathy chuckle in response. “Duh. Not that it wasn’t amazing, but why did you do that?”

“Because I love you.” Gibbous squeezed Kaito a little, smiling.

“I love you too,” Kaito blubbered.

“Are you crying?”

“No. Shut up.”

“Happy New Year, Kaito.” “Happy New Year, Gibbous.”

———

I enjoyed writing this!

I definitely didn’t base this off of my New Years

I didn’t get kissed, but I did get food poisoning

[slurpem]

(this is just an old story/trip report I had never wrote down and felt like typing up here)

a few years ago I went to visit a couple (former) online friends of mine. they were living in tennessee at the time, but instead of staying at their place we all rented a cabin in the woods through airbnb. they were stocked up on various drugs obtained thru dnms and we planned to do them over the week at the cabin. after a couple nights of mostly smoking weed we decided to break out the mdma. we dosed early in the evening and for a while everything was great. my friends were pretty experienced at rolling and we had bought powerades earlier in the day to help w the body load. we just took turns queuing music while talking and dancing. it felt really perfect like mdma often seems to, I even remember telling my friends wholeheartedly how grateful I was for the experience of being there.

a couple hours into the roll my friends decided to dose again w the molly they had remaining. I was feeling perfectly content with everything already and was hesitant to take more, but my one friend kept insisting that a higher dose would somehow elevate the experience to a whole different level that he was intent on sharing with me I guess. I eventually accepted his insistence that it would all be fine and worth it, and so I took another half dose or so.

things were still fine for a bit after that, we continued to listen to music and all smoked a round of bowls together. but at one point I got tired of dancing and decided to lay down on the floor. this really repetitive edm song came on which was pretty much just a single melody playing on repeat with minor variations in the sound design of the synth. after what had probably only been about a minute, it felt like i had been stuck in a loop listening to the same thing forever. hearing the melody over and over was making me sick, like genuinely nauseous, and i just wanted it to stop. at this point I also realized that my heart was pounding, I found it hard to breath, and my limbs felt weak. not only that but the whole cabin and everything in it suddenly had a demonic quality.

I struggled to stand and though I found it hard to talk through the drug induced panic attack, I managed to stutter out that I wasn't feeling well and needed to go lay down. my room had been on the second floor at the top of a spiral staircase that would have been an ordeal to climb in my state, so my friends told me I could go lay down in their room on the first floor and that theyd take mine for the night.

after hobbling into the room, closing the door, turning off the lights, and collapsing in the bed, I started experiencing strange things. I thought I heard a group of people outside my door in the main space. in reality it was just my two friends but it sounded more like 8-10 people were out there walking around and talking. I imagined my friends had worriedly called 9/11 for me and that they were now chatting with cops and paramedics on what to do with me. besides regular conversations, I heard a lot of radio chatter/walkie talkie type voices. at that point I saw this red laser line slowly scan the room I was in from one end to the other. it was accompanied by a frequency so high pitched it was almost imperceptible. I was fully convinced they were using some kind of cutting edge technology to monitor me. I braced myself for them to enter and kept waiting in the bed there for probably over an hour, my whole body tense as fuck. by then it was deep into the night, probably well past midnight. I started to wonder if the people outside my door were real at all or if I was just hallucinating. after a long while I was able to mostly calm down. and though I didn't dare leave the bed to check outside the room, I decided I should just sleep, I would find out what really happened in the morning. but before I drifted off I saw the door creak open a bit, and saw only darkness out in the main area of the cabin. then I saw this hand, darker than the darkness of the house, with long spindly fingers. it creeped out from the pitch black night and grabbed the door to shut it again. it was obviously scary but it also seemed to be a part of my mind opening the bedroom door to show me that there really was just nothing but the night outside the room.

the next morning I told my two friends what had happened and they said they had heard other people in the cabin as well when they were falling asleep. for a couple months after rolling I would sporadically see things sort of radiate/glow, or move in subtle waves as if I was tripping, even though I was sober each time. a few months later I fell into a full blown episode of psychosis. and even though I've since recovered from that, and the horror of all its impressions has faded with time, I sometimes still feel like there's something very dark trying to follow me and attach itself to me.

so moral of the story is be careful with drugs XD

also dont trust druggies insisting you take something

[unhingedwomandiaries]

Right, so there I am at work today, avoiding actual work like a pro, when my brain decides to go "Oi, remember that book you forgot to add to your Literal list when you ditched Goodreads?" Living and Dying on the Internet, yeah? So I pop over there to sort it, only to find some proper sanctimonious cow's left a review that screams "I've read the back cover and decided to be offended." Why this got right up my nose, I couldn't tell you, but it proper did.

Maybe because it reminded me of this whole mess back in 2009. I'm twenty-something and dating this half-Irish bloke I'll call 'x' (lowercase intended, trust me). One day, like the absolute muppet I was, I cycle SIX BLOODY MILES on my day off to bring him a homemade lunch at work. Already sounds pathetic, doesn't it? Gets better.

So I rock up to find him, and his mate goes "Oh, he's by his car." Now, when someone says that, you don't exactly expect to find your boyfriend shagging the department manager in the back of his hideous yellow Buick Regal, do you? But there they were, going at it like rabbits on Red Bull. And she's ginger! Because of course she is! I proper dropped that lunch like it was on fire and legged it to my bike. Meanwhile, x is chasing after me with his tackle hanging out, begging to drive me home. Romance isn't dead, ladies and gentlemen!

Back at mine, this absolute weapon starts banging on about how SAD he is that his mate's got a baby and he hasn't. Rich, considering when I crashed said mate's girlfriend's BMW while trying to be helpful with baby-related grocery runs, he couldn't even be bothered to pick up the hospital phone. Too busy playing God of War - that game I queued until midnight to buy him on his birthday, while my lovingly crafted scrapbook ended up in the bin. Should've seen that red flag waving, shouldn't I? Proper massive, that one. Like a communist parade.

When I pointed out that maybe fatherhood wasn't his calling (understatement of the century), he calls me "too mature and stuck up" - because obviously that's the worst thing you can be - and dumps ME! Then, because the universe was clearly having a laugh, I got sacked the next day. No explanation, just "Off you pop!"

But wait! The circus isn't over! Few weeks later, his mom rings MY mom saying he's topped himself. Except he hadn't, had he? Just faked his own death like you do. As you do. Totally normal behavior.

My mom, bless her newly unemployed heart, decides retail therapy via Europe is the answer. Drags me to Shakespeare & Co where I find this poem by @nerimon. Family's all "You should reach out!" Like some sort of cosmic joke, he actually sends me his music CD later. Turns out to be a proper decent mate through all the relationship car crashes that followed.

Years later, the internet explodes with accusations about x being a sexual abuser. His mates are all "Pick a side!" like we're choosing teams for rounders. My mom, suddenly channeling wisdom, goes "Don't believe everything you read online." So I kept my gob shut, didn't I? Lost those friends faster than a tenner in a washing machine.

Read his book after all that kicked off and felt like the world's worst friend. Guilt's a proper bastard like that. Looking back, his exes were textbook narcissists - sweet as pie in public, proper nasty pieces of work behind closed doors.

These days, I've mostly moved on. Hope he's alright and all that. But bloody hell, the drama of it all. Makes me wonder if I should write my own book. Could call it "How Not to Date: A Comprehensive Guide to Spotting Yellow Buick Red Flags."

And here I am getting wound up about some random review on Literal. Perspective, innit?

[i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships]

IT IS LOGAN SANDERS’ FUCKING BIRTHDAY BITCHES!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BESTEST BOYO!!!!!!

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

The Eras | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This is a short, silly little thing about the Ticketmaster fiasco the other day. If you were in that queue all day, I feel your pain. Seven hours of queuing for Houston. I know this fic is niche but I simply do not care <3 also, lemme know if you got tickets! And what you plan to wear to the show!

What’s your favorite track from Midnights?

Warnings: Ticketmaster 

“Any luck?” Bucky asked on the other end of the phone.

“Nope… still two thousand plus people ahead of me.” You poked at your sad lunch salad with your plastic fork, eyes glued to your laptop. “At least my boss is trying to get tickets too, that way I won’t get in trouble for getting nothing done today.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh, “I love that for you. And your boss. Is there-”

“It’s PAUSED?” you nearly threw your lunch across the room. “The queue is PAUSED!”

Bucky wasn’t accustomed to this new way of doing things. If he wanted to go to a show back in his day, he simply bought tickets at the venue. But this was a whole new beast. You had a plan, a strategy. The group text with Wanda and Nat fired constantly in the days leading up to the presale, turning your phone into a war room.

“What? Why is it paused?”

“It says it ‘should be back up and running shortly’,” you sighed, “and that to keep my place in line, I can’t refresh or close my browser.” The disappointed groan that pushed its way out of your throat broke Bucky’s heart. He heard you clicking and typing on the other end of the line, no doubt conferring with the group text.

“This kind of seems like a disaster…” He didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were, but he hated when you were upset. You’d looked forward to this- gotten your presale code, received boosts. And yet, you sat in a paused queue with no end in sight.

“Oh, it is. Ticketmaster is the worst.” You gave a harsh stab with your plastic fork and speared a piece of romaine, punctuating your sentence. “It’s owned by this company Live Nation- it’s basically a monopoly.”

“But you’re guaranteed tickets, right?” he asked, sounding almost on edge. “Cause you got the code thingy? That’s how this works, right? The code ensures that you get the tickets?”

“Nope. That’s just to get into the presale, but they don’t require a code to get in the queue, so… I’m not sure there’s even a point to those codes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the inefficient and deeply flawed system. “Oh. That’s… really annoying. And confusing. They should explain the rules better.”

You gave him a laugh, “yeah, well, all they care about is making money.”

Bucky could practically see you- sitting at your desk, shoulders slumped, lunch half eaten, computer stuck in a paused queue.  “I’m sorry, doll.”

You made a few more stabs at your wilted lettuce before giving it up all together. “And apparently ticket prices are nuts. Like, floor seats are selling for over a thousand dollars. My friend got seats in section C for the Dallas show, and he paid a thousand and twenty-eight dollars for each of them.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah…” you let out a sigh. “I’m so disappointed. I mean, I saw on Twitter that even nosebleeds are in the two-fifty range now. I know there’s way worse things in the world, but I was really looking forward to this- I’ve been saving for such a long time. I thought I was gonna get to see her in person, you know?” Bucky could hear the frown in your voice. “But between the queue and the prices, I just don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

“You never know, doll,” Bucky did his best to lighten the mood. “Don’t give up. Just keep the queue open on your computer and try to focus on other things, okay?”

You agreed to his terms and the two of you hung up, leaving you alone with your Ticketmaster nightmare.

That evening, Bucky waited by the door for you to come home. He stood so close, in fact, that you almost hit him with it. “Hey, baby! How was your day?” He was nearly vibrating with a strange energy you’d never seen from him before.

“It was terrible…” you sighed. “I was in the queue for seven hours. And when I finally got to the presale, tickets were unfathomably expensive. Even if I could afford them, every seat I picked disappeared. I got constant error notices and never even got one single ticket into my cart. It sucked.”

Bucky gave you a tight squeeze, so tight you could hardly breathe. “That’s terrible, doll. I’m so sorry you didn’t get tickets…” He released you suddenly, allowing your chest to expand. “But I’m actually glad you didn’t buy any.”

His words came as a surprise. He was always supportive, no matter how silly your venture. He knew how badly you wanted to go to the concert- why he celebrated your defeat was unknown.

“Oh. That’s…. ouch, Buck. I know I’m kind of annoying about how much I love her music, but-”

“No, no- I’m happy you didn’t get any,” he said, “because I got them for you.”

His words didn’t register. You stared at him, mouth agape, as the gears in your mind spun into overdrive. “I don’t… what? How?”

“He might be an ass, but Tony’s good for some stuff,” Bucky laughed. “I asked him to help me- and he said no. We both know he hates my guts. But when I said it was for you, he immediately agreed.”

“You asked Tony?” Bucky didn’t speak to Tony. Ever. Not since Siberia. But he’d broken his sworn vow against Tony. Just for you.

Bucky retrieved his laptop from the kitchen table, “I signed up last week just in case you didn’t get verified. But you did… and then I got a text late last night with a presale code. So, I thought I’d hop on the presale too just in case you couldn’t get tickets.” He turned the computer your way and showed you the screen, “according to this, my account is still stuck in the queue…”

You eyed the screen and saw the long line you stared at all day, “but if you’re still in the queue, how did you-”

Bucky scoffed, “Ticketmaster is no match for Stark tech, sweetheart. Tony found a way around the queue, grabbed three floor seats, and got outta there. Used some of that Iron Man money for good.” He shut the computer and tucked it under his arm, “and now, there are three floor seats linked to your account. You got the VIP package, preferred parking- all the bells and whistles.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Oh, and Stark told me to tell you…” he opened his computer once again and found an email from Tony. “And I quote: You’re too good for this idiot, but at least he’s resourceful. Have a great time at the show, kid.”

You launched yourself into Bucky’s arms, almost sending his laptop clattering to the floor. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh my god, Buck. You’re amazing- you’re the best!”

Bucky, always humble, did his best to duck your praises. “Well, Tony’s the one who got ‘em. I just called him and-”

“But it was your idea! And you entered for the presale just in case- you sat in the queue all day!”

Bucky’s cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “I just wanted you to see your girl. I know Taylor’s you’re favorite.”

“No, you’re my favorite,” you said, dropping a deep kiss to his lips. “Oh- I have to call Wanda! And Nat! And- wait, you didn’t ask Tony to get a ticket for you?”

Bucky shook his head, “Doll, this is your thing with your friends. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep an eye on me all night; I want you to give all your attention to Taylor-” He laughed his own words, “as though I have to tell you to give her your attention.”

He dotted kisses all over your face and chuckled as you thanked him time and time again. “You’re more than welcome. All I ever want is for you to be happy, sweetheart. Go call your friends and let ‘em know.”

You rifled through your bag and found your phone, an unstoppable smile plastered across your face all the while. But before you could run off to tell Nat and Wanda the good news, you took Bucky’s face in your hands.

“Just so you know, Buck, this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I mean, getting the tickets is amazing. But signing up for the code just in case, sitting in the queue for me- you’re so sweet.” He blushed once again, still not used to your praise. “And obviously, it helps that you were able to get me floor seats, but I’d be just as appreciative if I came home to no tickets. Cause floor seats or no floor seats, you’re all I want.”

“Well I guess you’re lucky then,” he laughed, “cause you got me and floor seats.”

“Truly, what else could a girl want?” you asked.

“Backstage passes?”

“Yeah, you know I was incredibly grateful and touched that you did this for me-” you joked. “But no backstage passes? Lame.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you and swatted you on the ass, banishing you to go call your friends.

He’d done a lot of bad in his life. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he’d hurt people. But knowing that he’d done something so meaningful for you eased his mind.

All he wanted for the rest of his days was to see you smile like that. He didn’t care if he had to team up with Tony every week and get you exorbitantly priced concert tickets- he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.

————————————-

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll  @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions​ @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky

[astrxlis-archive]

note – i queued this to 11:30pm my time; it’s my birthday today (oct 8), and xingqiu’s is tomorrow, and i’ve had this idea for a while now. this is mostly self-indulgent because my birthday is a sensitive topic for me. take this in whatever light you wish - i just wanted something soft. i don't care if this doesn't show in the tags. sections in italics are memories. not proof-read.

word count – 1.2k

october nights are always cold in qingce village. the countryside is humid thanks to the nearby bodies of water and waterfalls; the plantation soil is wet, adding to the cold feeling, and the wind is chilly, seeping into your bones.

you cradle your coat closer to your body, shivering as a breeze messes with your hair and clothes. what an unfortunate time to not have a pyro vision, you think, adjusting yourself better on the roof of the village’s community center building.

it was nearing midnight, if the moon’s position in the sky was anything to go by. had you been in liyue harbor, you’d probably be in the same spot as usual; this year, however, you’d been hired by granny ruoxin to keep a lookout for the unusual increase of treasure hoarder activity in the area, and to protect the village if necessary.

maybe you should’ve brought a xiao lantern with you, if only for sentimental value.

when you moved to liyue harbor two years ago, you had, against all odds, struck a weird sort of friendship with the heir of the feiyun commerce guild. your line of work mostly involved odd jobs here and there, fighting for whoever paid you enough mora, and xingqiu had jumped on the opportunity to test his skills against you. being a little older and more experienced than him proved to be an advantage at first, but he’s a fast learner, and soon your matches were ending in draws more often than not.

you also shared a love for books and writing, bonding over plot holes and novel ideas; it didn’t take long for you to be included in his poetry battles against hu tao, quietly sitting beside chongyun as he acted as judge.

finding out you shared close birthdays was a pleasant surprise.

on your first birthday in the city, you bought yourself a treat near sunset and walked up all the way to bubu’s pharmacy so you could sit on the railing and watch the city lights and dwindling movement below. xingqiu had startled you not long after, jokingly asking if there were any special occasions for the treat, ending up with you sheepishly admitting it was your birthday. he looked at you, momentarily stunned, then smiled devilishly, a glint in his amber eyes.

“meet me in the valley of mt. tianheng near midnight - the one that overlooks the harbor.”

he’d been waiting for you with two xiao lanterns. the both of you sat quietly next to each other by the edge of the valley, feet dangling in the air as you lit one of the lanterns and lifted it up, slowly watching it drift away into the night sky.

“happy birthday.”

“thank you.” you smiled, then nodded at the second lantern that sat between you. “what’s this one for?”

“oh, my birthday is on the ninth.”

you hum, gaze tiredly drifting back to your floating lantern, now a mere dot against the starry canvas.

“maybe you should lit it, then. i’m pretty sure it’s past midnight.”

xingqiu laughed quietly beside you, and pretty soon his own lantern was floating away in a similar path yours had taken. you had turned your head to take in the boy beside you; an unexpected friend.

“happy birthday, xingqiu.”

on your second birthday in liyue harbor, xinqiu ran into you as you were walking past the feiyun commerce guild at noon.

“same place, same time?” he’d asked, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he sounded hopeful. you were late to complete your own commision, and xu had been looking at the both of you funny, so all you could do was smile and nod before running off.

in addition to the xiao lanterns, the boy had also brought a small blanket. it had been a chilly day, with an even colder, but the stars were shining brightly, and you sat pressed together, sharing warmth beneath the blanket that hung on both your shoulders.

following last year’s steps, you lit one of the lanterns first, watching it drift away lazily, and then xingqiu lit the remaining one. the silence was comfortable; simply enjoying each others’ presence.

after a while, you had elbowed him softly on the ribs, humor in your voice.

“seventeen, huh?”

he groaned.

“yes, my liege.”

“ew, don’t call me that.” you complained, earning a little laugh from him. “is there anything you wanna do today?”

“i hope i can spend some time with my friends.”

you grew quiet at that. then, gently, intertwined your hand with his and squeezed.

“happy birthday, xingqiu.”

you had broken the news to him two weeks before your birthday.

“sorry – i didn’t want to break our tradition so suddenly, but i can’t–”

xingqiu had called your name, effectively silencing your apology. he smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder, grip comforting and familiar.

“it’s alright, my liege. we can always do a symbolic lantern release later.” he removed his hand, holding both of them behind his back. “when do you leave?”

“tomorrow.”

he nodded.

“well then. shall we spar?”

distant movement catches your eyes and you latch onto it like a hawk. the moon can only provide so much light, and you watch as a figure comes closer and closer by the bridges – only one? is it bait? you can’t tell, but you prepare yourself for a fight nonetheless, ready to jump off the roof in a heartbeat.

what you hadn’t prepared for was xingqiu.

he’s in his usual attire, a backpack slung on one shoulder, with two unlit xiao lanterns in hand. he waves once he’s close enough and tells you to stay where you are, and you’re too stunned to do anything other than nod, still processing the fact that xingqiu came all the way from liyue harbor – just to release lanterns?

next thing you know, he’s sitting next to you, decidedly amused.

“good evening, my liege. beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“please tell me you didn’t walk all the way here from the harbor.”

“perhaps.”

you groan, pressing your face into your hands.

“fucking hell, xingqiu.”

he laughs, scooting closer until your sides are pressed together, and then wraps an arm around you. his cold skin against your barely warm one makes you look up.

“i’m joking. i ran into the traveler earlier today, and they had a commission nearby, so they brought me along through a teleport waypoint. they’ll be waiting for me.”

“oh.” he squeezes your shoulder and moves to rummage through his backpack, revealing the same blanket from last time. “good. but you didn’t have to come all this way, you know?”

he drapes the blanket over both your shoulders, offering a small reprieve from the cold air.

“i know. i wanted to.”

with a sigh, you put your hand in front of him.

“hand me a lantern.”

“gladly!”

you light it up, with xingqiu’s attentive gaze on your movements, but you hesitate before releasing it. you look at the lantern in your hands, then at the boy beside you, amber eyes soft in the muted light.

“let’s release them together.”

“ah– sure. let me–”

he scrambles to light up his own, and you both count down from three before releasing them into the night sky of qingce village; the stars are brighter, and it’s easier to lose sight of them once the float far enough, yellow lights flickering amisdt white.

the silence is peaceful, and you rest your head against xingqiu’s, his arm around the small of your back underneath the blanket, both of you with knees drawn up against your chests. you touch one of his knees with the tip of your fingers.

“happy birthday.”

the fondness in his voice is unmistakable.

“happy birthday.”

[scary-grace]

ooooh, for the unusual fic-specific asks, can we have a little bit of Thranduil's perspective from seeking a friend please? or ditto from show a little faith? I'm dying to know what he thinks of it all :D :D :D

I've actually been writing all of show a little faith in Thranduil's perspective as a side project (Bilbo's version of the original band AU was such fun that I couldn't resist midnight-sunning the Barduil band AU as well.) Here's an excerpt from their first meeting! (I had to add a cut because it got super long.)

“If it’s any help, it seems like you’ve got a lot going for you,” the stranger said, and Thranduil looked at him, surprised. “I bet things will turn around somehow.”

Maybe. Maybe they would, if selling every last one of Thranduil’s worldly possessions turned out to be enough to pay the forfeit. If he could hold onto the rights to his music, there would be hope, but all of that remained to be seen, and Thranduil could not imagine getting that lucky. “It is unlikely. I have been bested without hope for salvation.”

The stranger nodded as though he understood this, then said the opposite. “Well, I’m going to hope for the best.”

“Why?” Thranduil asked, baffled. “We do not know each other, and it will not help.”

“It’s not going to hurt, either,” the stranger said. “It doesn’t cost me anything to hope for the best for you.”

He was kind. Not only was he handsome, he was kind, and in spite of the fact that it was the second-worst night of his life, too, he still took the time to try to make Thranduil feel better. Thranduil could not stop looking at him, and it must have made the stranger uncomfortable, because he looked away. “Also, I’d say we do know each other, at least a little. Believe it or not, I’m not in the habit of telling everybody I meet about my divorce.”

“No?”

“Usually it takes about five years for me to open up about my tragic backstory,” the stranger said, and Thranduil found himself laughing yet again.  “You bought me a drink. That gets you the inside scoop.”

"Then I am very lucky, it seems,” Thranduil said. That was treading too close to the line. If the conversation was to continue, Thranduil would have to get certain things out of his system, and luckily, he had several languages to choose from. He fell into German almost naturally and said exactly what he thought. “I like you too much for having met you half an hour ago. If you possess any downsides other than the fact that you are uninterested in men, please share them at once, so I do not exit this encounter with feelings for you. My life is complicated enough already.”

He glanced at the stranger then, to see whether he was frustrated yet, but the stranger looked unconcerned. “I like the sound of your voice,” Thranduil continued. “And your eyes.  I concur with your assessment. We do know each other – somewhat.”

“I’ll take somewhat,” the stranger said. He smiled, almost tentatively, and Thranduil could not help but smile back.

The stranger’s phone rang while Thranduil was still trying to think of something else to say, some question to ask the stranger out of hundreds queuing at the forefront of his mind. The sharp sound punctured the mood, and reality rushed back in – reality, where both of them were having the second-worst night of their lives, and both of them had other things to do.  The stranger was more responsible than Thranduil was. He silenced the call, set his phone down on the bar, and stood up.

“I should go,” he said, and panic seized Thranduil by the throat. “Thanks for the conversation. And the drink.”

“Wait.” The word spilled out of Thranduil’s mouth before the stranger made a move for the door,  and the stranger looked at him. Thranduil could think of nothing but ensuring that this would not be their last conversation, that he could find the stranger again – or that the stranger could find him.  That was the key. Thranduil found a napkin on the counter and a pen in his coat, and scrawled his name and number on the former with the latter.

He held it out to the stranger, who took it, bewildered. “Call,” Thranduil instructed, all too aware of how desperate he sounded. “Or do not. But – call.”             

“Thanks,” the stranger said. Then his phone began to ring again, and he vanished out the door, as though he had never been there in the first place.

[livingforcoopsandoknutzy]

here's day 1 of o'knutzy week! (this is queued for midnight my time so if it's early for you that's why)

@oknutzyweek

day 1 -> win or lose

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

It was quiet when the boys got inside. It always was after a big loss.

The boys were all disappointed. They were supposed to have the game in the bag but they were all distracted. It had been a rough week for everyone and no one had their head in the game. Leo had gotten to start this game but after two missed goals they traded him in for Winter who had given him a sympathetic pat on the back as they switched out.

It wasn't often Leo got to start so the disappointment and guilt he felt at having failed so epically weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Logan and Finn could tell. They knew exactly how he felt. They all had bad days when they didn't play their best and they all understood the guilt at having let the team down.

They also knew how much worse it was for Leo because he put a lot more pressure on himself due to his need to prove himself as the youngest member of the team.

They put their bags away before sitting on the couch in silence. "I'm gonna make some food." Leo said in a soft voice, getting up. Logan made a move to grab his hand but he shook his head and walked out of the room so Logan frowned and dropped his hand limply.

Finn put an arm around Logan and pulled him close. "It's okay. It's just a rough night, you know how it is." Logan leaned up and kissed Finn's cheek before settling into his side.

"I know, I just wish I could make it better." It was always hard when Leo was upset because he didn't want anyone to comfort him. He didn't think he deserved it.

He would come to you when he was ready, but if he wasn't there was absolutely nothing you could do without him getting mad or closing off. It was the only time he'd ever lashed out at his boys. It made him feel trapped.

So Finn and Logan just had to let him come to them. They turned on their comfort movie, Meet the Robinson's, and sat in silence.

It was only about 15 minutes later when Leo walked in. His eyes were red and the boys could immediately tell he was holding back tears.

"Oh, sweetheart. Come here." Logan said, scooting out from under Finn's arm so Leo could sit in the middle.

As soon as the words were out the tears started flowing freely down his face and he collapsed into the space they'd made. Finn rubbed his back and let Leo rest his head on his shoulder. Logan ran his hand through Leo's hair comfortingly.

"This was just one bad day, sweetheart." Logan mumbled softly as the movie played quietly in the background. "You can't blame yourself for messing up. It's human."

Leo shook his head and sniffed. His eyes were an even deeper blue with the tears pooled in them.

"I let too many get past me. I was so stupidly distracted. It was supposed to be an easy game and I let them score twice. I let the team down."

Finn hushed him gently and kissed the top of his head. "Everyone single one of us messed up tonight, love." He said gently. "You missing two blocks was not what caused us to lose the game. You didn't disappoint anyone because we all love you and we all know that you did your best today. That doesn't mean you did the best you ever have but you did the best you could today and we all appreciate that."

Leo sniffled again but his eyes were beginning to dry.

"Do you blame anyone else on the team for losing?" Leo made a sound of protest. "Of course not."

Logan hummed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Then why would you think we blame you?"

Leo frowned at that and they fell quiet. Their attention drifting back to the TV.

Logan felt Leo grab his hand and squeeze. "Thank y'all." He said quietly, his eyes never leaving thr TV.

Finn pressed a kiss to his temple and Logan raised their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of Leo's hand.

"Always."