#a very elaborate journey into my feelings

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

I am conflicted! Torn between good and bad!

I love stop motion animation and this is gonna have stop motion.

Tim Burton tends to do a good job directing, and he’s made movies I like.

That being said, attributing a films quality exclusively to the director is a move that I don’t really like. Film is a collaborative art, and it requires a lot of skilled individuals to work.

And Burton has directed some not good movies before as well.

It looks good from the trailers. I’m intrigued.

But…

I’m worried that the new film is going to dominate the fandom space once it’s released

I’m worried it’ll mess with the way the audience thinks of the character. That it’ll change how the musical is watched after the new film is released.

I absolutely love the musical version, and think the cartoon is pretty good.

The original film is confusing, a bit messy, but generally funny and pretty cool. It has neat effects.

Considering how recent the WGA strike was, I’m a little concerned the overall story may have problems.

There’s also this weird issue I have.

I’m really prideful over my own creative work. About two years ago, I started writing up a pitch and ideas for a reboot of the Beetlejuice tv series. This would be more in line with the musicals canon. Episodes would be animated adult comedy, but with musical numbers added.

Even though I never ended up finishing the episode screenplay, I still love my creation with all my heart.

( the reason I haven’t released some of it on Tumblr or Ao3 yet is because it’s stuff I want to use professionally. I’m in film courses at university.)

There’s so much worldbuilding. Lots of original characters, some obscure ones, and many we know and love. More original characters than would be acceptable for fanfic, but for a tv spin off would be required.

I kinda dampened down on it with school getting busy at times, and building controversial scandals on the media company that is most likely to be associated with the work.

I’ve kinda gotten distracted with other fandoms in the meantime too.

The point is, I put a lot of time into imagining my own canon for this story. Pages and pages of lore. Like 10% of a screenplay.

So it’s sorta weird to be thrust into something that goes against my canon.

Also, the release of the new movie might murder my dream of the Beetlejuice tv show adaptation of the musical. People are gonna want to see Astrid, and will be disappointed when it’s a different version of Beetlejuice at its core.

That being said, my ideas are still good. Parts of my OCs can be recycled into new projects. The basic premise of an episode can be stretched and formed into a film. Parts of it are too tied up in the lore of Beetlejuice, most parts are almost entirely original.

So in total, I am excited for the movie, but I also feel a strange amount of sadness in the death of a dream.

Thoughts on the upcoming Beetlejuice Movie sequel?

Hi! I'm a bit of a Beetlejuice the Musical first kinda person (not for any reason in terms of not liking the movie, just that I watched it a little younger than I maybe should have and the stop-motion animation really scared me 🥲)

I do need to rewatch the original movie as I've not seen it for ages, I think the trailers for the sequel are looking promising, and apparently Burton has said he's really focussed on practical effects for the movie? (IDK if that's true I haven't seen sources but it'd be cool if so)

How are u feeling about it?

[paradiseprincesss]

the boy is mine | jonathan crane

masterlist

yeah so i wrote this in literally record timing because the music video to the boy is mine is so jonathan crane and his girl coded. i'd like to think i'm keeping u guys fed with all my fics i hope u like !!!

summary: you’re set on doing anything to make that boy yours, and the plan you curated is absolutely purrrfect.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), bondage/tying up, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, stalking, obsessive behaviour, therapist/patient relationship at one point lol

“perfect.” you whisper to yourself as you poured the last drop of the glittery, pink liquid into the small vile, swirling it around as you popped a cork into the top.

you smiled proudly as you sat on the kitchen floor of your apartment, holding up the vile to get a good look at it under the moonlight. it was fool proof — he’d for sure be yours after you forced him to drink this.

some would say you were a little unhinged, but you preferred the term creative. you were a little obsessed with your old therapist, doctor jonathan crane. you started seeing him when you stumbled across his pictures online, and you knew you had to have him. you booked your first session with him roughly nine months ago, and he was there for you every step of the way.

you didn’t actually need therapy (well…), but you still booked sessions with him because he was yours. it was meant to be. you couldn't unsee it. during your first ever session with him, you made sure to put on your cutest, most feminine and dainty mini dress, paired with some matching high heels. you even did your hair and makeup with precision. jonathan didn’t show it on his face, but when you sat there in that leather chair across from him for the first time, his heart started to beat a million miles a minute.

you were jaw-dropping. he couldn’t believe someone could actually possess such beauty, and though he tried to stay professional, it was proving to be quite difficult. every time you spoke, every time you smiled at him, every time you did absolutely anything — he would become more and more infatuated with you.

“i just wish he didn’t leave me, you know?” you say softly, feigning innocence, “it’s been so hard without a man to take care of me.”

jonathan clenched his jaw silently, he couldn’t believe that a man would be stupid enough to break-up with someone like you. be professional, he reminded himself.

“understandably so,” he said clinically, “i can only imagine how difficult it would be to have a relationship like that end so abruptly.”

“it was so difficult,” you say, your eyes watering, “but, i think i’m slowly starting to move on.”

of course, such "ex-boyfriend" did not exist. this was all part of your elaborate act to make him think you were an innocent, naive girl who was heartbroken and needed someone to save her. that someone being him, of course.

he was made for somebody like you.

you only had seven sessions between the two of you before jonathan abruptly reassigned you to his colleague, doctor webber. she wasn’t anything like doctor crane — she didn’t understand you the way that he did.

good things come to those who wait, but patience wasn’t your thing.

“i’m sorry,” jonathan doctor crane said to you, “as much as i want to continue to be there for you and your journey of growth, i believe that my colleague would be better suited to your…needs.”

“what are you talking about, doctor crane?” you asked, trying to to hide the desperation in your voice.

“i have another patient i must attend to,” he says flatly, informing you that your session had come to an end, “but i wish you all the best.”

and with that, he sent you to see doctor webber. of course, you were heartbroken. how could your soulmate do that to you? but jonathan wasn’t doing it because he didn’t want to see you — it was quite the opposite, actually. he knew that feeling this way about his patient was so very wrong, and if he continued to see you, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.

really, he did this for you.

as you placed your little love concoction on the kitchen counter, you turned on your tv. jonathan was supposed to be doing a segment with the mayor of gotham tonight about the crime rates in the city, and what him and his team at arkham asylum were doing to solve the issue. as his face appeared on tv, you sighed to yourself. he was so handsome in his suit and tie — and those sexy little glasses?

meow.

the chilly gust of wind made you shiver for a moment, but your latex bodysuit kept you warm enough — well, not really. with your little cat ear headband, you toss your hair over your shoulders as you quietly make your way into the silent home. your black pumps were surprisingly silent against the wood floors, and you crept into the living room where a woman sat on the couch watching tv.

you went undetected as she completely missed your presence. stealthily, you creep behind her until suddenly, you yanked her by her hair. she screamed loudly, and your hand immediately went up to her mouth to clasp down on it; you were getting really good at this.

“don’t scream,” you whisper, “i just came here to tell you to stay away from my man.”

slowly, you remove your hand and she looks back at you with sheer terror, “wh-who’s your man?” she asked with fear laced in her voice.

you hated this bitch — she was one of jonathans patients. there was nothing going on between them, you knew that (plus you would’ve murdered her if there was!), but you had spent the last few weeks…"cleaning up the streets."

these ratty bitches had to go; any woman who was his patient or in his life at all had to go. you even dressed the part with your sexy little cat costume and all. you know what they say — in the eternal game of cat and mouse, there are no winners, only survivors.

“doctor jonathan crane,” you said dreamily, but your tone turned sinister within seconds, “and if you ever go see him again, i will find you, trust me. i've already found you once, and you don't want me to come prowling back around.”

the woman nodded frantically, and you went on your merry way. this was the last one, you were certain. you’d even made a list of all the women to threaten so that you could make sure they would stay away from your man. finally, you made your way home and started to wind down from all the break-ins you’d been making recently. it was hard work chasing down all these…mice.

jonathan noticed that his belongings were going missing here and there over the last few months, and he knew something strange was going on. he wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but something was off.

first, little things such as his favourite pen (yes, he has a favourite pen) went missing. then, a few patient files would seemingly disappear along with some sticky notes he had stuck on his desk the day prior. he didn’t think too much of it until one of his credit cards went missing from his wallet — but there weren't any fraudulent charges made.

he even continued to monitor his bank account and freeze his card, but no charges were ever made on it regardless. the last straw was when his spare house key went missing. even for a man as smart as jonathan, he could not figure out who was doing this for the life of him.

you were still attending your regular sessions with doctor webber, but you deliberately booked your appointments on days you knew jonathan was working. you knew you’d run into him either on your way in or way out, and you also knew he wasn’t that booked up anymore since most of his clientele went…missing.

as you said your farewell to doctor webber, you noticed jonathan walking out of his office. he noticed you immediately, giving you a soft smile as you turned to close the door to doctor webbers office. he said your name softly, causing you to almost choke on your own words as you clutched his house keys behind your back.

“doctor crane,” you say softly, “hey.”

“just jonathan is fine,” he said, but he internally scolded himself for saying that, “how have you been?”

“great,” you say sweetly, “doctor webber is…great.”

“that’s wonderful to hear,” he says, “it was nice seeing you again. take care.”

you two parted ways, and once jonathan was back at his apartment — he was to refrain himself from calling you. god, you looked so good today. with those little dresses of yours and good grief, those sexy, little heels you always paired them with. he grabbed himself a glass of whiskey, neat, and took a swig as he thought about you.

why did you have to be on his mind so much, and dear god, why did you have to be so fucking beautiful?

with a frustrated sigh, he looked at his front door, thinking about his keys that suddenly went missing just a week prior. was he overthinking things? was he just imagining it? did he lose his own keys and forget?

he was a psychiatrist for gods sake, why was he driving himself crazy over this? with so many questions and no answers, he made his way to his bathroom as he flicked his kitchen lights off.

the cold water ran from the bathroom sink as he splashed it on his face after removing his glasses, and he looked at himself in the mirror to get a grip. his pale, icy, blue eyes bore into his own reflection, and-

what was that?

he turned around swiftly, turning the tap off, watching as something, no — someone’s perfectly manicured hand ghosted over the edge of his bathroom doorframe.

he couldn’t see anything — the kitchen light was turned off, and the only thing turned on was his dim bathroom light. the master of fear himself felt a little fearful in this moment as he watched the dainty, feminine hand retract and move back into the shadows and he could've sworn he saw...cat ears?

jonathan had to blink a few times to make sure that he hadn’t spilled a vile of his own fear toxin somewhere and that he wasn’t just hallucinating off of it.

hesitantly, he pushed open his bathroom door only to be met with the darkness of his kitchen. his breath hitched as he flicked on the kitchen lights, but he was met with an empty, quiet space. his eyes quickly darted to the front door, but it was locked shut.

but if the door was locked shut, what did he just see? who did he just see? was the scarecrow himself starting to succumb to silly, little, irrational fears? before his mind could start to wander anymore, he heard a familiar sound.

a certain, distinct, and awfully familiar sound of high heels clicking against the wood flooring — and it was coming right from his bedroom. jonathan went over to his bedroom, swinging the door open unsure of what he might see, only to be met with a sight that made him feel weak in the knees.

you were propped up on his bed, in a latex body suit and high heels, along with cat ears to complete your rather sexy costume. you batted your eyelashes at him innocently, and bit your lip as you showed him the rope in your hands.

“how did you…” he whispered, watching you bite your lip as he trailed off.

“doctor,” you purred, “let’s get intertwined.”

“what the fuck…” he whispered once more, watching you as if in a mesmerized trance.

jonathan couldn’t lie — as much as he should have been terrified and calling the cops, he was awfully turned on right now. jesus christ, that latex cat costume that left absolutely nothing to the imagination? yeah, he was hard the moment he saw you.

“i know it’s simply meant to be.” you say softly, and as if his mind could not control his body, he was making his way over to you on his bed.

“um, what-“

“shh,” you hush him, suddenly grabbing him as you swiftly tie a knot around his wrists, “you don’t need to speak, baby boy.”

in mere seconds you had the scarecrow tied up on his own bed, restrained as you looked down at him. jonathan sat there looking up at you — yes, you were hot but you were clearly also insane.

to be fair, so was he.

he didn't bother trying to get himself out of the ropes. he knew that if he tried to struggle you'd most definitely do something not so pleasant to him. also, if he was being honest — this was hot. like, really hot.

"i just need you to do me a favour, baby boy," you giggle, your high heels clicking against the wood flooring once more, "drink this for me, and know that if you refuse, you won't live to see another day."

you held up a vile of pink, shimmery liquid. jonathan looked at you with a raised brow, and hesitantly nodded.

"...i'll drink it if you answer some questions that i have." he says, trying to bargain with you.

"fine," you shrug, "but make it quick."

"alright, first of all, how did you get in here?" he asked.

"easy, i crawled in through your window. next." you say in an awfully innocent voice.

"are you the one that's been taking my stuff?" he asks, and you nod.

"of course, i needed your stuff for my collection." you say whimsically, biting your lip at the thought of your homemade jonathan crane shrine.

in your apartment, you had a wall dedicated to him. it had cut outs of him, printed pictures, his belongings, his address, photos of him when he was younger — the list just goes on. all just regular, boring, stalker stuff, really.

"no more questions," you huff, "drink up, baby boy."

"what is it?" he asked, to which you rolled your eyes.

"an at-home love potion. i'm going to untie you for this — and if you even attempt to run, i will slice your heart in two." you say with an adorable smile.

jonathan doesn't offer a response, but rather opts out for a simple nod. you slowly untie his wrists, handing him the pink, glittery liquid in the vile. you watch him in awe as he closes his eyes and takes it like a shot, smiling to yourself as you realize that he's finally going to be all yours.

this little concoction that you had whipped up was the real deal — you'd even tested it on other men to see if it did what it was intended to do. it worked on them, bringing these men to their knees for you, but it's not like you really had any trouble doing that without a love potion, anyway.

after jonathan drinks it all, he looks back at you blankly. unbeknownst to you, when you were popping the cork off of the potion, he sneakily grabbed a vile of his fear toxin that was stashed by the foot of his bed — just in case you tried to actually murder him.

his plan was to immediately throw the vile at you and watch you succumb to your fears, but if he was being honest, he wanted to see what this shitty little "love potion" could do. he was a man of science, after all.

"i don't feel anything," he said after a moment, "looks like your potion didn't work after all-"

you cut him off with a small giggle, "you don't feel any different?"

"no."

"i've tested it, i know it works," you giggled, "that means if you don't feel any different from before, then you must already love me-"

suddenly, he lunged at you, making you scramble as you tried to fight back. however, he was much stronger than you, making it physically impossible to overpower him. after struggling for a good minute, he had you tied down on the bed like you had him just moments before.

"you're sick in the head," he says, but you could've sworn you saw him smirking, "you're real fucking twisted, you know that? i could call the cops and have you arrested right now."

"do it," you teased, "i dare you to, baby boy."

jonathan suddenly grabbed you by the neck, "what was that?"

you had you refrain from smiling as he choked you softly, feeling yourself get wet from just a second of his touch. you knew exactly what he wanted now.

"sorry," you corrected, "i dare you, sir."

"there we go." he says as he lets go of your throat.

he rummages through his bedside drawer and pulls out some of his own rope, causing your mind to spin at the idea of what he was going to do to you. you didn't run when he untied your wrists initially, but he took a few moments to tie both your wrists up to his bedposts, essentially tying you up so you couldn't move your hands at all.

"oh," you say with a teasing voice, "i see where this is going."

he smirks at you, admiring how sexy you look all tied up in his bed, with your costume and all. he takes his phone out and shamelessly takes a picture with the flash on, and you could feel that you were leaking your arousal down his bedsheets by now.

it seemed that your love potion didn't work on him because, well, he was already obsessed with you.

of course he was — but jonathan was known for his good work ethic. he only gave you up as a patient because it was only a matter of time before he would give in and most likely fuck you on the couch in his office. he just didn't know it was mutual at the time. if he did, well — that's a story for another day.

"maybe i should punish you," he smirks, making his way over to you on the bed, "you've been so disobedient."

"m'sorry, sir," you whimper, "you just make me crazy."

"i know," he cooed condescendingly, "but i think i can fix that, darling."

"you can?"

"i most definitely can," he says lowly, "it might take a few sessions to cure you, but i have a method i think might work on you. i'm gonna fuck you 'till you can't think anymore, no more thoughts after that. sound good?"

you nodded frantically, "mhm, yes. please, fuck yes."

he smirked at you, his hands reaching towards the top of your bodysuit. slowly, he reached his hands behind and unzipped it, slipping it off of you slowly.

"i like the cat costume," he chuckles lowly, "the ears are a cute touch."

you blushed, biting your lip as he slipped you right out of your latex bodysuit. obviously, you wore nothing underneath — not even panties. jonathan groaned at the sight because seriously, no panties? with your wrists tied up and unable to touch him, you were getting pent up real fast.

"i wanna touch you," you whined, "please."

he smirked, "if only you didn't break into my apartment like a stray."

before you could even formulate a proper response, he was crawling between your legs, spreading them out as he got onto his stomach. without warning, he licked a fat stripe up your already soaking cunt, latching his mouth onto your pussy. your back arched at the feeling, and he continued to lap you up.

"f-fuck, jon," you breathed, "feels s-so good."

"i know." he said cooly against your core, lapping up your arousal continuously as you moaned over and over again.

it was sinful how skilled he was with his tongue — it hadn't even been a full five minutes and you were already on the brink of creaming all over his face. he didn't give you any mercy as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, and your wrists were burning against the rope as you tugged on them.

god, the things you would do to run your hands through his soft, dark, and now tousled hair.

"nnnghh," you whimper, "i'm, ah- gon' cum!"

the coil in your stomach snapped as your release hit you like a freight train, making you scream his name as he made you cum. you were left a panting mess, and he finally released the grip he had on your thighs. after wiping his pink, plump lips along with his chin which glistened with your wetness, he smiled softly at you.

"taste s'good," he commented, "you look so pretty like this, darling. tied up and helpless."

"n-need you," you whisper, "baby, please."

this time, he didn't correct you and demand you call him "sir." maybe it was the heat of the moment or maybe it was the realization that he had finally met a woman who was as unhinged as he was. deep down, he was really loving the idea.

he started to undo his belt, making sure to keep his eyes locked on yours, teasing you as he undid his belt at a painfully slow pace. finally, after what felt like an eternity (it maybe thirty seconds at most), his cock sprung out of his pants, hitting his stomach lightly. it was long, veiny, and thick. how was that supposed to fit inside of you? surely it would split you open.

"cat got your tongue?" he teased as he unbuttoned his white button-down, stroking his cock a few times as your hips bucked into nothing.

"uh-huh." you whispered in awe, biting your lip at the thought of how his size was going to stretch you beyond your limits.

with a low chuckle, he lined his thick cock up with your begging hole, pushing in slowly as you felt him stretch your cunt out fully. he was so big and so long, the feeling of him just halfway inside of you was enough to have you pulling against the ropes again. the way the rope was digging into your wrists was degrading but undeniably hot. it was like a silent reminder of how little control you actually had over this whole situation.

"s-so full!" you squeaked, but he kept pushing himself into your tight, warm hole.

"s'okay, you can take it. and if you can't, i'll make you take it." he groaned, finally bottoming out in you.

you were stuffed to the brim with his cock and slowly, he started to thrust his length in and out of you. desperately, you let out a feverish moan. your breaths were short but heavy, and you were a fucked out, cockdrunk mess for him as he picked up his pace.

"you're so fucking tight, my god," he moaned, "i should've fucked you sooner."

"make me cum," you plead desperately, "f-fuck, yes, feels so good, jonathan!"

"yeah? you wanna cum?" he cooed as he continued to fuck your sopping pussy, "you wanna cum on this cock?"

"fuck, yes." you pleaded.

his cock was pressed snugly up against your cervix, so deep that you could feel him in your stomach. he continued to stretch your little hole out, ruthlessly pounding his thick cock into you more and more as you started to see stars. your walls started to flutter around him, letting him know that you were close without having to say a word.

"close already, darling?" he asked, "are you gonna cum for me again, hm?"

"y-yes!" you moaned, "ohmygod- i'm gonna-"

your words started to melt together at one point as you got lost in the pleasure of your high. soon enough, your soaking cunt was tightening up around his fat cock, and a clear liquid poured out from you.

of course — you were so turned on by the way he was screwing you that you'd squirted all over his bedsheets.

"oh, darling," he moaned, "that was so fucking sexy, jesus."

"j-jonathan, baby," you begged, "i-i can't-"

"you can, i promise," he groaned, "i'm close."

"p-please." you started to beg incoherently, the overstimulation making your head spin as your cunt fluttered around his cock again.

he continued to ram your tight pussy until his thrusts started to become sloppier and sloppier, and you could tell that he was close to the edge.

"cum i-inside," you begged him, "i need to be filled, fuck-"

"okay, okay," he panted as his he gave you a few more deep, harsh thrusts, 'm'gonna fill you up, darling."

you nodded, your head spinning as he finally came inside with a low groan, painting your walls white as he stuffed you with his warm seed. he stilled, staying inside of your warm hole for just a little longer to ensure you got every last bit of his cum, before pulling out his semi-hard cock.

he bit his lip as he watched his cum drip out of you (the sight of him biting his lip almost made you cum again), and he reached over to untie your wrists as you slumped down against the pillows. he laughed softly, pulling you into him as you instinctively cuddled into his arms.

he pulled the cat ear headband off your head, which you forgot you still had on, and tossed them to the side.

"i guess i'm going to have a hard time getting rid of you, huh? stalker." he joked, sighing as he took in all the details of your pretty face.

"you won't be able to get rid of me," you say softly, "i'm obsessed with you."

"good, i don't want you around anyone but me." he says, playing with your hair gently.

"i know," you giggle, "but stupid love potion was useless. i should've known you were already in love with me."

the both of you laughed softly, snuggled up in his bed as he told you all about what he did on the side for work — and all about his plans to fear gas gotham city.

jonathan trusted you with this because he knew there wasn't a line in existence that you wouldn't cross for him.

@ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a @xanaxiii

@seaamonster @nocturnest @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones @oceanstem

@futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt @ll4n4

@ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @aprilsfrog05 @wiseyouthinfluencer

@minedofmoria @strangeobsessed

[dark-corner-cunning]

Honoring the Spirits of Home: Creating Sacred Spaces for the Unseen

Welcome back, Seekers! Within my local coven, we are journeying through the mysteries of Spirit until Winter Solstice. Today, I introduced the art of crafting Spirit Houses, and I thought it would be fitting to share a bit of that here. I like to keep these crafty posts simple and open-ended, leaving space for the practitioner to add their own touch. The best magick often arises from just diving in and letting your intuition guide the way. May this inspire you to connect, create, and explore! 🌙✨

As witches, we work with spirits every day, whether we realize it or not. Our homes, like ourselves, are steeped in the spirit world, alive with layers of unseen inhabitants that have their own roles, wisdom, and stories to tell. For many of us, it’s a quiet understanding that a witch’s home should be haunted—not in the fearful sense, but filled with life that pulses in harmony with our craft. From ancestral guides and house spirits, to the land’s ancient beings, these entities weave themselves into the very fabric of our spaces, enriching them with energy and presence.

Regardless of whether a home is newly built or weathered by decades, each dwelling becomes imbued with spirit. There’s an existing ecosystem of energies that connect to the land itself, the history of the area, and the layers of life that once lived or passed through. These spirits, sometimes subtle, sometimes profound, thrive within the space we call home, coexisting with us and enhancing our magick. But it is up to us to nurture a balanced and harmonious relationship with them.

Why Connect with the Spirits of Your Home?

Developing a deep, reciprocal relationship with the spirits of your home doesn’t just benefit your craft; it offers blessings for everyone under your roof. When these spirits feel acknowledged and respected, they offer protection, lend strength to your magickal workings, and create an atmosphere of peace and nourishment. A home can truly feel like a sanctuary when the spirits that dwell within it are in harmony with those who reside there in the flesh. This connection turns your space into an anchor—a place of personal power, healing, and resilience.

Building Friendships with Spirit

Nurturing relationships with spirits requires time, care, and a commitment to reciprocity. Just as with human friendships, there is a cycle of giving and receiving. Spirits respond to sincere attention and intention, as well as the gifts and gestures we offer them. One meaningful way to foster this connection is by creating a spirit house or a dedicated space where spirits can feel welcomed and honored.

A spirit house is both a physical symbol and a spiritual anchor. It becomes a place where offerings can be left, and it serves as a gateway for interaction with the spirit world in a respectful and clear manner. It’s a way of saying, “You are welcome here, I honor your presence, and I seek your guidance and protection.”

Creating Your Spirit House

Designing a spirit house is a creative, personal process. It need not be elaborate; sometimes, the simplest gestures carry the deepest respect. You may choose a small altar, a shelf, or even a discreet box placed in a peaceful corner of your home. Consider using natural materials—wood, clay, or stone—as they tend to resonate well with spirits of place. Personalize it with items like stones from your land, soil, dried herbs, or even water from a local stream. Each addition builds a bridge between your energy and the spirits you invite into your home.

When crafting your spirit house, remember that offerings and gifts can strengthen this relationship over time. Spirits, like friends, appreciate time, energy, love, and tokens of appreciation. Remember, spirits are aware of intention as much as they are of the physical offering, so approach this creative expression with reverence and sincerity.

For my spirit house, I’ve chosen to weave in unsea, or “old man’s beard,” gathered lovingly from my mother tree, a sacred link to the ancient and wise energies of the land. I've placed birds within the space, their forms standing as messengers and symbols of spirit, guiding and connecting with the unseen. Mushrooms, too, find their place here, embodying my bond with the natural world—grounded yet reaching into hidden realms. They carry the magick of spiritual growth, reminding me of the mystery and connection to realms beyond. Each piece breathes life into the space, deepening my relationship with the spirits I honor… and I placed a bell at the entrance, placed with the hope of hearing it softly chime as the spirits pass through.

[bamfkeeper]

Missions Suck.

RQ: 'Since you’re open to requests, I have some ideas that you’ll hopefully enjoy writing, this being the first. The idea is that Kurt is gone on a mission, of which is taking longer than expected, and as such the bamfs and yourself miss him a lot and are anxious without him. So, you and the bamfs organize a little surprise for Kurt when he returns, and of course, a lot of mischievous bamf antics too, along with a tidal wave of them crashing down in Kurt when he returns lol. Just fluffy bamf stuff, along with some romantic kisses and such to Kurt since the reader missed him. Also, take your time with writing anything; burnout is awful so take all the time you need with whatever you write 💙' - @hulkingharbor

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader

Warnings: None <3 .. WC: 3.1k

A/N: I tried to write more detail than my usual works, so I hope that shows ;; I love any scenario with the bamfs, I was really happy to write this one <3

It had been several days since Kurt and the team embarked on a significant mission, leaving you behind at the mansion with the mischievous bamfs. The waiting seemed interminable, each hour stretching into eternity as you anxiously anticipated their return. Initially, you had anticipated a lengthy mission, given that their destination was clear across the country. However, you had reasoned that the team's advanced jet would facilitate a relatively swift journey. Despite this logical assumption, their absence extended far beyond your expectations, each passing day amplifying your concern and restlessness.

As time wore on, you couldn't help but notice a parallel between your own growing unease and the increasingly erratic behavior of the bamfs. These impish creatures, usually a source of playful chaos, seemed to be mirroring your mounting anxiety. With each day that ticked by without word from Kurt and the team, the bamfs' antics escalated in both frequency and audacity. Their usual pranks and mischief-making took on a new intensity, as if they too were feeling the strain of the prolonged separation from their teleporting brethren.

You found yourself constantly torn between amusement at the bamfs' increasingly elaborate hijinks and genuine worry about the state of disarray they were leaving the mansion in. It was clear that their escalating troublemaking was a direct result of their own anxiety and boredom in Kurt's absence. As you attempted to maintain order and keep the bamfs in check, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something must have gone awry with the mission to cause such an extended delay.

Those mischievous little blue creatures hadn't intended to create additional work for you, but their overwhelming anxieties were proving difficult to manage. Their deep attachment to Kurt had left them feeling lost and restless, causing their typically playful behavior to escalate into something more chaotic. Even for someone as patient and understanding as you, their antics were beginning to push the boundaries of what you could handle.

Bamfs, by their very nature, were creatures of boundless energy and enthusiasm. Their penchant for play and their constant scampering about were endearing traits, but they also came with considerable drawbacks. Wherever the blue imps went, a trail of disarray and mess inevitably followed in their wake. You had gone to great lengths to alleviate their stress and channel their energies in more constructive ways.

Your efforts were nurturing, as that was all you could think to do - you'd introduced a wide array of activities designed to engage their curious minds and active bodies. From art projects that allowed them to express their creativity through painting, to an assortment of toys meant to captivate their attention, and even challenging puzzles to stimulate their intellect. However, the bamfs' short attention spans and seemingly insatiable need for novelty meant that these diversions were often short-lived.

They would either master the tasks too quickly, their natural aptitude for mischief allowing them to breeze through what you had hoped would occupy them for hours, or they would simply lose interest, their restless spirits already seeking the next source of excitement.

Kurt's continued absence was palpable, and its effects were evident in the demeanor of the bamfs. These small creatures were not only still visibly anxious but also profoundly sad. Their usually vibrant yellow eyes had taken on a somber appearance, wide and glossy with unshed tears. The depth of their distress was such that some of them appeared too melancholy even to find solace in sleep. As you gently guided them towards their resting places, their movements were slow and labored, a stark contrast to their usual energetic behavior. Their tails, typically held high and swaying with life, now dragged listlessly behind them, creating a poignant visual representation of their emotional state. Observing their profound sadness, you felt a deep ache in your heart. The sight of these usually cheerful creatures so utterly dejected hurt your heart terribly.

"It's going to be okay... I know you miss him terribly. He'll be back soon, I promise you that. Kurt wouldn't leave you little rascals behind for long," you hummed softly, your voice gentle and soothing as you tried to comfort them. You spoke in a calm, reassuring tone, hoping your words would help ease their distress. Deep down, you knew that mere words couldn't fully alleviate their sadness, and you could see the lingering sorrow etched on their faces. It was clear that your attempts at consolation weren't having the desired effect.

A wave of empathy washed over you as you witnessed their dejected state. Your heart ached seeing them so forlorn and melancholy. Unable to stand their sadness any longer, you reached out and gently petted one of them, your touch conveying the comfort that words couldn't. "It's alright, little ones... I know, I know. It's sad when Kurt goes away, isn't it? I understand how much you want to be with him right now. But you have to remember, they said the mission was far too dangerous for you to join. Kurt cares about your safety above all else."

As anticipated, the bamfs reacted unfavorably to the news. These diminutive creatures had a well-known tendency to respond negatively when faced with any form of denial or refusal. Their sensitivity to disappointment was particularly evident in this instance. Consequently, you experienced a pang of guilt when you observed some of them beginning to weep, clearly longing for Kurt's presence. The sound of their tiny, mournful cries intensified your feelings of remorse, prompting you to take immediate action to console them. "There, there... it's alright... everything will be okay," you murmured in a soothing tone, your voice barely above a whisper. You delicately stroked their small heads with a tender touch, your fingers moving in slow, comforting circles. While comforting them, you carefully tucked them into the soft, warm blankets, ensuring they were snugly enveloped in the cozy fabric.

Finally, the bamfs had already settled in, their small forms nestled comfortably on the bed. With a heavy sigh, you lowered yourself onto the mattress beside them, feeling the soft give of the bedding beneath you. As you lay there, your eyes gradually drifted closed, and you felt yourself slowly slipping into slumber, surrounded by the comforting presence of the bamfs.

The absence of Kurt was hard on all of you, a void that seemed to hang in the air around you all. You couldn't help but dwell on the fact that this particular mission he was on carried more risk than usual, a thought that gnawed at the edges of your mind and left you feeling uneasy. So many thoughts ran across your mind, so many things that could go wrong. You tried to ignore them. Despite your own worries, you made a conscious effort to maintain a calm demeanor for the sake of the bamfs. You didn't want to burden them with the full extent of your concerns, so you carefully downplayed the situation, offering reassuring words and gentle smiles whenever they looked to you for comfort.

As you drifted off to sleep, your subconscious mind continued to process the day's events and your lingering anxieties. Your slumber was punctuated by brief moments of restlessness, your dreams tinged with vague unease. Despite these occasional disturbances, you managed to make it through the night.

The subsequent days were filled with the same worry. Despite your best efforts to maintain a calm demeanor for the sake of the bamfs, they possessed an innate ability to perceive your growing anxiety regarding Kurt's return. Those little things had keen intuition, which allowed them to sense your inner turmoil, even as you attempted to mask it. In Kurt's absence, the bamfs looked to you for guidance, support, and reassurance. Their bright yellow eyes, brimming with innocence and need, gazed upon you with an intensity that both touched and burdened your heart.

As the weight of responsibility settled heavily upon your shoulders, you found yourself giving a deep, weary sigh. Slowly, you sat up from the comfort of the couch, your movements betraying the emotional exhaustion you felt. Turning to face the expectant bamfs, you addressed them with a voice tinged with regret and frustration. "I'm sorry, little ones... I still haven't received any word from him," you muttered, your tone conveying the disappointment and concern that had become all too familiar in recent days.

Even as you spoke those words, a part of you knew, with a mixture of resignation and hope, that you likely wouldn't hear from Kurt until the moment he stepped through the door, returning home once again.

You were leisurely preparing a meal for yourself in the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate as you chopped vegetables and stirred pots on the stove. Your mind had drifted into a zoned out, almost meditative state, focused solely on the rhythmic motions of cooking to distract from the anxieties you had felt the past few days. Suddenly, the sharp vibration of your phone on the counter jolted you back to full awareness, breaking through your culinary reverie. With a slight start, you reached out and grasped the device, your fingers wrapping around its familiar shape. As you lifted it to eye level, the screen illuminated, revealing a notification that made your heart beat faster. Your eyes quickly scanned the message preview, and a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you saw that it was from Kurt.

'On the way back, liebe...should be back by tonight. xo <3'

You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief and joy wash over you. The news you had been impatiently waiting for had finally arrived – he was okay, and he would be returning home soon! Your heart swelled with excitement and anticipation. Unable to contain your enthusiasm, you found yourself instinctively beginning to tidy up the house, eager to create a welcoming atmosphere for his arrival.

As you bustled about, your gaze fell upon the bamfs, those adorable little creatures currently engrossed in whatever was playing on the television. A warm smile spread across your face as you decided to share the wonderful news with them. "Kurt's coming home tonight," you announced, your voice brimming with happiness and barely contained excitement. You paused for a moment, an idea forming in your mind. "So... why don't we work together to make this place a bit neater to welcome him? I'm sure he'd appreciate coming back to a tidy home, don't you think?"

The bamfs, upon hearing the news of Kurt's imminent return, all simultaneously broke into the biggest, most infectious grins you had ever seen. Their eyes lit up with excitement, and without a moment's hesitation, they leapt to their feet, their previous TV-induced stupor completely forgotten. It was clear that they were not only ready but eager to help, their enthusiasm matching your own. The prospect of preparing a warm welcome for Kurt had energized them.

They were all pitching in, diligently sweeping floors, wiping surfaces, and tidying up various corners of the house. To an outsider, the home might have appeared to be in a state of disarray, but you understood that there was a method to the apparent madness. The organized chaos was actually a well-oiled system in motion, each participant playing their part in the grand scheme of cleaning.

As a thoughtful gesture, you decided to bake a special German treat for Kurt to enjoy upon his return, one of his favorites. The bamfs were eager to assist in any way they could, though their help often bordered on playful interference. They showed particular interest in the baking process, their eyes widening with excitement at the sight of the mixing bowl filled with tempting batter.

As you mixed the bowl, the bamfs began squabbling over who would get the coveted privilege of licking the mixer attachments. Their enthusiasm quickly escalated, and before long, two of them were engaged in a spirited tussle on the kitchen counter. Gentle nips and acrobatic tumbles came from the pair of brawling bamfs, it was an amusing spectacle that you couldn't help but find endearing, despite the potential mess.

"Hey, hey! That's quite enough of that..." you intervened, carefully separating the two squabbling bamfs. With a patient smile, you addressed them, "You can both have some. There's plenty to go around. Now, let's sit down and behave ourselves, shall we? We just cleaned up after all." You handed them each a spoon laden with leftover batter, hoping it would satisfy their sweet tooth and curb their exuberance.

As you watched them eagerly lick their spoons, you couldn't help but let out a small sigh. The love you felt for these energetic imps was undeniable, but you had to admit that their hyperactive nature was starting to wear on you. The thought of Kurt returning home and lending a hand in managing the lively bunch brought a sense of relief.

That evening seemed to stretch on endlessly, the minutes ticking by at an agonizingly slow pace. You found yourself gathered on the couch with the blue babies, anxiously awaiting any sign of his return. The tv played something you only half paid attention to, your mind more focused on Kurt coming home than anything else. The air was thick with anticipation, and every small noise made you perk up in hope. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a familiar BAMF - a sound that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. In an instant, a cloud of dark, sulfurous smoke materialized in the room, dissipating to reveal that cheeky German standing before you.

Kurt Wagner, in all his blue-furred glory, had returned at last.

He looked utterly exhausted, his posture slightly slumped and his golden eyes a bit dimmer than usual, but otherwise, he appeared to be okay, no injuries that you could see. A wave of relief washed over you, and your heart swelled with joy at the sight of him. Without a moment's hesitation, you sat up quickly, your voice filled with excitement and relief as you exclaimed, "Kurt!"

The reaction from the bamfs was instantaneous and overwhelming. Like a tidal wave of blue fur and enthusiasm, they surged forward en masse, their tiny forms blurring together in their haste. With surprising speed and coordination, they converged on Kurt, tackling him with such force that he stumbled backward, barely managing to keep his footing. In seconds, he was completely engulfed by the swarm of miniature teleporters, each one vying for the best position to snuggle as close as possible.

They climbed over each other, chirping and cooing in delight, their little hands grasping at his costume and fur. It was a heartwarming yet slightly comical sight - the tall, lean figure of Nightcrawler almost completely obscured by a writhing mass of adoring bamfs, all competing fiercely for his attention and affection. You could see his tail wagging up from the pile, which made you laugh lightly, that was all you could see of your darling boyfriend.

"Okay, okay, my turn! I missed him too!" You exclaimed with a mixture of excitement and impatience, slowly but determinedly wiggling your way into the welcoming pile of bodies until you finally found him. As your eyes met his, a warm smile spread across his face, his sharp fangs peeking out endearingly from beneath his upper lip.

"Liebe...oh, how I've missed you..." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. In one swift motion, he enveloped you in his strong arms, pulling you close against his chest in a tight, all-encompassing embrace. You felt him bury his face in your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize your scent all over again. The weariness in his movements was extremely noticeable; you could sense how utterly exhausted he was, yet there was an unmistakable joy radiating from him at finally being home.

You pulled back just enough to kiss him, your lips meeting his gently, lovingly, tenderly. The softness of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you both savored the precious moment of reconnection. Time seemed to stand still as you basked in the warmth of each other's embrace, your hearts beating in perfect synchronization. As the seconds ticked by, the initial gentleness of your kiss gradually transformed into something more intense and passionate. You felt a growing urgency in his touch, a desperate need to be closer to you after your time apart. His hands gripping your hips with increased fervor, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepened, his tongue seeking entrance, which you gladly granted.

As your tongues danced and explored, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of passion and desire. Just as you were losing yourself completely in the moment, a small, unexpected chirp pierced through the haze of your passion. One of the bamfs had inadvertently interrupted your intimate moment. The sudden sound startled you both, effectively breaking the spell that had enveloped you. Reluctantly, he pulled back, his eyes still clouded with desire but now tinged with a hint of embarrassment at getting a bit too carried away.

"Ach...apologies, liebling...I...I just missed you so much..." he murmured, his accent thicker than usual, betraying the depth of his emotions. His golden eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of love, longing, and a touch of sheepishness at his loss of control. Despite the interruption, the air between you still crackled with unresolved tension, a testament to the strength of your connection and the depth of your feelings for each other.

"It's alright, my love," you whispered soothingly, gently squeezing his hand. "You've had such a long and tiring journey. How about we get you to bed for a little while? All the bamfs and I are absolutely thrilled to have the chance to cuddle up with you again..." Your voice was filled with warmth and affection as you spoke. You leaned in and gave him a tender, lingering kiss on the cheek, then carefully helped him to his feet. Kurt didn't hesitate to agree, gratitude evident in his weary smile. The dark circles under his eyes were a clear testament to his exhaustion, hinting at the many sleepless nights he must have endured during his time away.

"Ja, okay..." he replied with a soft smile, his golden eyes twinkling with affection. Kurt eagerly followed you to bed, his tail swaying gently behind him as he walked. He was looking forward to getting some well-deserved rest after a long mission, he’d give you all the details later. The thought of being surrounded by the love of his life - you - and his beloved bamfs filled him with a warm, comforting feeling. As he settled into bed, he could already feel the stress of the day melting away, you curled beside him and the bamfs all around. He couldn’t be any more comfortable as sleep quickly took him.

"Sleep well..." you gave him a sweet, soft kiss on the forehead, letting him nuzzle into your chest and sleep.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Image: Nightcrawler (2014) #2

[museenkuss]

“How I transformed my body in 90 days” type video but I’m becoming a Renaissance Woman. Vlog footage of me reading the classics for hours on end, writing vocabulary lists, drawing in my sketch book to epic music. On day 15 I talk about how I’m slowly adjusting to my elaborate home cooked meals and how I struggle with the genealogy of the Borgias. There are montages of me educating myself on history, astrology, astronomy and dressing well, I take horseback riding lessons and go to museums. Erasmus, Machiavelli and Lucretius are stacked on my bedside table.

There’s a segment where I say “it’s day 53 and I’m really struggling… I can’t even write a sonnet. I don’t see any improvement in myself. Is this even worth it?!” The stakes are rising. I’m shown ripping up pages of rhymes in calligraphy. I swear as I rush around the kitchen, trying to prepare my oysters. I sit at my desk and sigh, head in hands, my desk covered in stacks of notes, huge volumes on art history and printed out articles. The dramatic moment comes when I for the nth time try to walk and gesture with sprezzatura while balancing books on my head for better posture. I fall. The books topple to the floor. I’ve reached rock bottom.

Black screen. Voice over: “It was really hard. I felt like Dante, in the dark forest, having lost my way. And then, I realised what I needed: I had to go on a grand tour.”

Music swells again, there’s a montage of me packing and travelling in busses and trains. Landscape rushes past. I read Goethe’s Italienische Reise on the journey. Finally, there are snippets of me in Munich, in Vienna. I take a selfie in front of Parmigianino’s self portrait in a convex mirror, showing off my own elegantly contorted hand. I’m in Florence, breathing heavily with excitement as I walk along the outside walls of the Galleria degli Uffizi. “Oh my god, there he is—“ I film the Petrarch statue, the phone visibly shaking. “I can’t believe I get to meet him…” I whisper with awe. Cut. I’m blowing a kiss at the right Grace in Botticelli’s Spring (I have a crush on her). I’m in the Loggia di Psiche in Rome, I’m kneeling on a bridge in Venice to touch it, “Tintoretto walked on these very stones..”, I’m filming the ceiling of the Camera Degli Sposi in Mantua. I’m in the streets of Grasse showing off a bottle of Fragonard perfume I bought, I’m teary eyed in front of the Concerto Campestre in the Louvre. Cut.

I’m back home. “It’s now day…79. Those were the most unrealistic two weeks of my life. And the most expensive. But now I’m back on track. I feel like I can really do this.” With newfound vigour I get back to my battered Reclam German/Latin edition of Ovid’s Metamorphosis. Day 81, 85, 89. Emotional/hopeful music. I show a Shakespeare sonnet written in beautiful calligraphy. I’m in the museum sketching the composition of an annunciation and taking notes on a Venus by Cranach. I practice a speech I’ve written following Cicero’s rules on rhetoric. I’m back on horseback. I present a cake of some sort.

DAY 90. I’m at my desk. “Wow, what a journey. Now let’s see the transformation I underwent in those 90 days.” I show side by side footage of me from day 1 and day 90. I look the same, except day 90 me is wearing all black, Castiglione style, and has better posture. Back to the desk. “I changed so much. I learned so much about myself and my limits. I’m still not fluent in Latin or Italian. But what I learned is that beauty is everywhere, especially in the struggle, and it’s worth cherishing. And now, I’m back and stronger and more curious than ever. If you haven’t followed me on tumblr @Museenkuss at this point, what are you doing? Click the follow button and give this post a like because NOW, the fun really begins. A renaissance woman never stops learning.” From under the desk, I grab two books and put them on my desk. The Tale of Genji and Sei Shōnagon’s pillow book. “It’s time to expand my horizon.” Black screen.

[frozenmoonshine]

How TR boys show affection/love?

Long time no write, but my hyperfixation is very alive and kicking, as always! And since the weather is getting chillier as we're approaching the full blown autumn, it's the perfect time for some cozy, fluffy thoughts! 🍂🍁☕️🧦

TW: none, just some slight exaggeration for comedic purposes; Reader's gender is not specified

MIKEY - bites.

You can't convince me this adorable, emo menace to society isn't a total menace in every other aspect as well! He likes you means he wants you. He also wants dorayaki because he likes it. Dorayaki is something he chews on. ........... You can see what I'm getting at. He'll just randomly start munching on any bit of your skin he can get access to. And if he gets carried away, he can bite for real! It's just Mikey logic, don't question it, there's no use. But, fair be fair, he also protecc!

DRAKEN - acts of service.

He's the type to reflexively take off his jacket and cover you when you're cold, or go get you a bottle of water when you're out in the hot weather and he noticed you struggling with the heat. He'll always carry your bags and stuff, and doesn't allow you to refuse. You need an errand done - he's already on it. And the best part is that he never thinks twice about doing any of that, it's simply his second nature.

BAJI - surprisingly... also acts of service.

CLUMSY acts of service, but acts of service nonetheless! He'll cook for you (as in, more than just instant yakisoba - an actual meal). He'll bring you a cat when you're feeling down to cheer you up. He'll teach you to fight if you need to blow some steam off. (And he'll happily spar with you, but beware - he has ulterior motives in that sparring session, iykwim 😏) Still, the biggest sign of his affection is if he lets you touch his hair!

MITSUYA - support.

I was tempted to say 'words of affirmation', but on the second thought, just support in every shape and form that you might need. He's your shoulder to cry on when you need to, someone who believes in you when you doubt yourself, and someone you can always rely on no matter if you're going through a petty drama or your world actually just fell apart. He's always there by your side, through thick and thin!

KAZUTORA - trust.

They say that jealousy is the sign of love, but it's the exact opposite in Kazu's case! If you really mean something to him, he won't experience the least bit of jealousy, even if he saw you sitting butt-naked in another man's lap! He'll also be fully comfortable being himself around you, and feel safe to share his past, traumas, mistakes, and his healing journey, without fear of being judged or abandoned. He will just know in his heart that you are his person no matter what!

KOKO - self-sacrifice & physical touch.

I think this is pretty much canon, but allow me to elaborate nonetheless.

Hajime is passionate. When he falls in love, he falls head over heels and worships the ground his s/o walks on! His devotion can sometimes border on obsession, and there is nothing he wouldn't be willing to do for his love! And I mean - nothing - literally no limits! He'd kill or die in a heartbeat for the one he loves, no questions asked! And, since he burns so fervently in love, he cannot help the urge to constantly shower the object of his affection in kisses, to hold them tight and just feel their skin, warmth, scent... Sidenote: he doesn't hug, he embraces!

[robolvrr]

medical malpractice. ‿⁠✷｡

pharma x human! gn reader.

warnings: medical play. sharp objects. temporary blindness/sensory play.

nsfw under the cut. this is a bit darker but this is pharma we are talking about here. not enough of this rat on my feed.

"are you sure ratchet isn't available?"

the cooling bulbs shine bright in your eyes and you itch the sleeves of your uniform, gaze wavering between the flawlessly polished floors and an elaborate monitor with a screen that easily dwarfed you lengthwise.

the fucker doesn't speak for an uncomfortable five seconds. you are convinced he purposefully does this just to have the pleasure of your wariness wither.

"yes, my dear. he has far more pressing matters than a simple organic check-up. i do apologize if my cycles of experience in this profession is.. lacking for your standards."

his back is all you see when your face twists, mouth slack as you struggle to seek a response.

sarcasm must be a species thing. almost every cybertronian on this ship seems to have a snippy remark.

"it's not that."

you don't know how to describe it. pharma is sardonic and precise. the crew members don't seem to have too negative of an opinion as his performance precedes his mannerisms.

when he first laid optics on you, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that itched.

he did not share the warmth of his companions. granted, it was not as if you were adored by all mechs — plenty still had their reservations of allowing such an easily harmed creature aboard on a personal journey that they could not even hope to relate to.

however, unlike the other medics, you felt trapped under his leer. vivisected no matter the layers of insulation and nylon hiding flesh that blazed under unrelenting attention.

he never strayed far from your thoughts after that introduction. you can hear his croon at night and see those genuine, icy stares when you close your eyelids to toss and turn to sleep.

he's dangerous.

no one shows to share your beliefs. you don't speak of them out of fear of alienation. he triggers your survival instincts so strongly it starts to make you angry, because he hadn't done anything to warrant the disapproval.

he's a voyeur to your discomfort. sooner or later, you learn his subtle language and realize he's pleased.

you make efforts to avoid him. it's easy, given your skills don't overlap with his duties. you're just an engineer and more than half of the technology they possess is outside your education. you forget about his stalking frame and find members that treat you nice, treat you gentle.

this very situation is nightmarish.

"distracted, little dove?"

a yelp leaves your lips. his helm is eerily close and his smug smile remains firm on his dermas. you're so alarmed you don't notice the velcro round a forearm until he clasps the straps, tight.

the iv bag is clear. you breathe shakily.

"please keep in mind i do have your best interests in consideration."

"... just get on with it, doctor."

he hums, doesn't react to the bite. his digits graze your elbow. when did he yank up your sleeve? goosebumps freckle up your skin and he pinches.

consideration. the gravity of that word sinks in the pit of your gut. too easy to miscontrue.

"i understand your.. unease. alone, far from home, far from your own kind. under the scrutiny of what you cannot predict."

the medical stretcher slowly creaks back. the rusty pop of cogs startled you. a giant light nearly hides his calm demeanor, just the shadow of himself and a halo of sterile white behind him.

the electricity sparkling in your veins runs blood hot. faint beeping climbs in measure — you assume the thumping pattern of your heartbeat is what that is.

suddenly, your mouth is coaxed open.

metal - tool and him - slide across your tongue in a practiced sweep. it clinks against your canines and molars, scraping inner cheek until you feel just shy of pink, sticky sinew shredding.

a swab is after. it isn't rough but far from tender. this is no lollipop ending appointment and you become faintly aware of a chemical stench starting to waft around your vicinity.

"healthy. teeth all accounted for. funny, how these bones work. brainstorm had spoken to me about ah, what is it called for you. cavities. fascinating, your inner workings aren't close in nature and yet it can poison you, just by chance. find that small, plump heart and send it right into failure."

this conversation tinges dreadful again. you make a protesting noise that careens into a groan before he shushes you, sifting through equipment. having him in your mouth has your jaw throb sore.

"yes, yes, i know, keep it quick. while we are on the subject of brainstorm however i want to be frank. he has assisted me in creating a method to better examine your parts. you're just so.. fragile. small. i would hate to hurt you."

".. and what exactly does that entail?", you whisper dubiously, twitching at the thought of anything from brainstorm being near you in a ten mile radius.

he laughs.

"well", you blink and he is still difficult to see with all the lights and proximity, something wet and slimy dropping in both of your eyes. you squirm with a gasp and go to rub out of nature. he stops you.

"it's difficult to explain on your terms. but it's dropped into your eyes. microscopic cameras are effortlessly mixed with the solvent. it'll adapt to the shape. almost like a thin casing. it connects to my screen aaaand.."

you can't see. confusion driving the monitor to grow louder and louder.

"you put fucking cameras in my eyes? wh— what?! i can't fucking see! does ratchet know-"

"ratchet is not here. i suggest you find your bearings before you scare yourself to death, dear."

he sounds unapologetic. you fully drift to panic and think about the crawling sensation around sclera, unsure where your imagination and reality separate.

pharma sounds distant. this very room is almost closing in and your senses heighten in natural hopes to extend your survival.

his voice is charming and thick with something you can't identify. whispers hot in your ear. a cut has been made.

"excellent, little one."

this is torture.

one by one, the pain of an incision you can't even detect when it was sliced sutured with practical movements. unwoven, stitched again. you start to huff.

thumb catches moisture. you hear a rumble and it isn't the ship engines, it's him.

"just what else can the human body do?"

your throat closes up.

"how much could you take, hm? i simply want to know. there is no... allure of a broken body. perhaps in a dream. perhaps in my fantasies."

in and out, you fade. body trembling, hair sweaty on your forehead. he is an issue you cannot solve.

"perhaps, perhaps."

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

"how did the examination go?"

ratchet doesn't pull from his work. the gruffness and bitter edge you have learned to navigate and know his inquiry is made out of concern, not forced.

"i... fine, i think. i can't remember."

ratchet keeps working, though his pace has slowed.

"... mm."

[justporo]

Laid Out Traps

Astarion has many masterful ways with which he keeps seducing you - traps laid out masterfully for you to fall into. And you are eager to let yourself get dragged under. But this time you're pulling him down with you.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Well actually I wanted to write something else today, but here we are. Thoughts about how Astarion would continuously work on seducing you, making sure he's always on your mind didn't leave my mind. So enjoy some... not quite smut, but something sensual? Anyways, here goes.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: light smut, lots of tension, blood Wordcount: 3,1k ~~~

You were walking through some forestry bits during another day of crossing this godsdamned Mountain Pass. It had barely been half a day but you were already exhausted. The journey just didn't seem to ever get any easier. Hopefully there would a break soon and you'd find some peace to calm your body and sort out your mind a little. Your thoughts had been running rampant for a while now and you were thankful for a moment away from the others when you could just let go a little.

Astarion - and therefore the reason why your mind was so scrambled - walked behind you. And he was also part of the reason why you felt so exhausted. Not only because the two of you had made it a frequent habit now to steal away when the others had gone to rest. But also because no matter how often you had found your way into the vampire’s arms, your thoughts never seemed to stray far from the pale elf. The hunger and need for the other never really sated.

It very much wasn't the kind of thing where the anticipation and the buildup had held all the magic. It hadn’t been merely a fling where the urge was overcome and then matters were dealt with for good.

No, much rather the more often you sought his embrace the more tightly wrapped his hold on your mind was. And you were beginning to feel that it might not even stop with his claim over your body and mind. At some point you would have confess to yourself that the sassy vampire, whose eyes sometimes were universes away with sorrow, had firmly snuck his way into your heart.

And Astarion took every opportunity to seduce you, to lure you in. Wrapping his strings tighter around you.

You were well aware of it.

He'd laid himself out as bait from the very beginning. You had known. At least you had very quickly been sure that he wasn't just after a body to lose himself in. Therefore, his ways were way too elaborate.

And also there were those moments when you were with him when it seemed he wanted to be anywhere but. But his focus always snapped back. Especially when you were trying to address these moments of absence.

Then he'd usually double his efforts, desperately trying to make you forget whatever thoughts had just sprung to your mind.

And unfortunately, he was masterful at that.

A master at deceiving you, luring you in and then keeping you trapped, being an addiction. It would probably not end well for you. Most vices didn't.

But you just couldn't stay away - neither from the way he held you but also from just… him.

A break was announced at some ruins you'd come across. Everyone seemed relieved. You set down your backpack and stretched when you felt a light touch at your back.

You turned to see Astarion who was lightly touching your shoulder. He gave you a knowing smile while his hand was quickly wandering down your arm with his fingertips finding some bare skin as quickly as possible at your wrist. The vampire's red eyes with a barely noticeable lifted eyebrow were an open question - or a promise rather.

His fingers in the meantime had moved to ever so lightly loop around your wrist. Not holding your hand of course, but it felt pretty intimate nonetheless. His lips were slightly parted, the tip of his tongue running over them absent-mindedly.

Your eyes immediately darted to them, then back to his gaze. Astarion's eyes were sparkling now in the midday sunlight and his mouth grew into his signature smirk.

This was exactly how he did it, how he caught you time and again: he made a game out of it, an adventure. Touching you when the others weren’t paying attention, letting his hand linger just long enough for you to feel a little heated, saying something playful that completely caught you off guard, sharing a stolen glance which always was a promise for more, for later.

Once he’d left you a little note in his narrow elegant handwriting with a line of poetry the two of you had once talked about. You still had it neatly tucked away under your armour - close to your heart. Sometimes you took it out to just look at it. Asking yourself how it could be if he always left you notes like that. You were hopelessly lost.

He had a thousand little ways of keeping you on your toes - or on your knees, much more -  and you were so prone to comply.

You were enjoying it, the way he turned it into this back and forth as if you were forbidden lovers: trying to hide away your attraction while finding as many moments to get lost in each other. It made it all the more titillating and intense.

You were absolutely sure the others knew anyway even if it was merely talked about in innuendos. But this didn’t stop Astarion from playing his little games with you. And you really didn’t want him to stop.

And so you also followed your lover this time, coyly throwing a glance over your shoulder to check if one of the other’s might be noticing. Then you let yourself be led around the ruins until you were around a corner of a former building. There was nothing much there but some underbrush and smaller blocks of former buildings.

Astarion had let his hand wander further until it had covered yours completely. And immediately when you had rounded the corner the vampire lifted your hand while he turned to you and with a few rash steps made you walk back until he had you up against the remainder of the wall.

He pressed your joint hands up against the stones next to your head while a predatory but auspicious grin had crept onto Astarion’s face. The vampire lowered his head as his gaze darkened and he took you in - lips, eyes, the hammering pulse at your throat.

His hips were pressing into yours, immobilising you against the stone wall, and the fingers of your joint hands were now laced - his thumb softly caressing yours lovingly despite the pressure he applied to trap you there with him.

The moment he’d pushed you against the wall, your former storming thoughts had been silenced and almost disappeared completely. Now you could only focus on the sensation of his closeness. Your lips were parted in anticipation already, your heart racing, a pleasant kind of tension was forming in your lower stomach.

You too took him in for a long moment, trying to burn this into your mind: the way he looked at you with his unique red eyes - almost from under his eyebrows -, soft lips curled into a cocky smile, the tips of his fangs noticeable, some of his silky white curls falling in his face, the curve of his high cheekbones that became even more noticeable when he slightly turned his head.

Astarion lifted his other hand to your face. He cupped your cheek for a moment, then let the back of his hand lightly stroke down your face. The gesture almost seemed too innocent in contrast to him having you pinned against a wall. Your eyes just widened more at him.

Then finally, his long fingers settled under your chin, his thumb placed on your chin, forcing you softly to tilt your head back while he moved in closer still.

“Shouldn’t you be careful who you follow into the woods?”, he whispered teasingly in a low voice.

His thumb was on your bottom lip of your already open mouth now, stroking over it as you let out a gasp. He was so incredibly close now too. Your hot breath must have moved over his cool skin. There were no thoughts in your head, only the feeling of the vampire being so impossibly and deliciously near - if only he moved like an inch or two closer.

“I wouldn’t want you to get trapped”, Astarion whispered again, drawing out the last word. His thumb tugged your bottom lip down now with quite some pressure before he let it slip back. Another gasp - almost a moan - left your throat.

“Maybe I am already trapped”, you managed to whisper in response. You earned a low chuckle and saw how the vampire’s eyes lit up and his grin grew broader - pronounced canines now fully on display. Your throat was dry, all of your hairs felt like they were standing on end in anticipation and your heart felt like it might give out any second. He slowly closed in on you, pupils dilating even more the closer he came - a hunter closing in on his prey.

And then he finally bridged the remaining gap, pressing his open lips to yours.

You immediately rewarded him with a deep moan. Your free hand was desperately trying to find hold on his armour to pull him even closer while your other was still firmly held in place.

Astarion’s tongue almost immediately slipped into your mouth, searching for dominance you willingly gave him when you welcomed his eager open mouthed kiss.

It wasn’t tender this. It was a powerplay - but it was full of burning hot passion. Fires were set ablaze in your lower body and the earlier tension was now making your whole body hum, sing for being graced with his attention.

The vampire moved so one of his legs pressed firmly between yours, almost forcing you up onto your tiptoes. Being even more immobilised, you were held at his mercy: indeed stuck in his trap - and you liked the place you were in.

The kiss was all tongues and teeth. Heads moving around while your mouths never left each other. Breathy groans and gasps were exchanged while his hand at your chin moved to your throat, fingertips pressing lightly onto your thrumming pulse before they wandered up again to outline your jaw, slightly applying pressure. With that he made your head tilt back even further.

Astarion eagerly claimed your mouth as his while pressing his body against you and you against the stone wall that pleasantly twinged at your back. If he wanted you right here and now there wouldn’t be a moment of hesitation. The water wasn’t even up to your neck anymore, you had well gone under and were happy to let go completely.

But after long moments Astarion withdrew from you. Instantly, you almost slumped down against the wall. Partly because of Astarion not holding you up anymore but mostly because he’d devoured almost everything of you with just a kiss. Knees were wobbly as you tried to catch your breath. Your eyes fell on Astarion who had taken a few steps back and was looking at you. His crimson eyes were wide with arousal, his breath a little ragged too. But he was still very much in control - the chase was only paused, not ended.

“Tonight then?”, he simply asked with an eyebrow jumping up.

This godsdamned bastard - turning you almost into a puddle with some kissing and now this audacity. He’d returned to his familiar stance, not one fucking hair out of place, breath already returning to normal. As much as you enjoyed this all, this game, the teasing, the nightly rewards. The asymmetry was all of a sudden making you mad.

Astarion cocked his head and blinked at you several times, with a sassy expression on his face still awaiting your response. He knew exactly what he’d done to you - smug arsehole.

A thought formed in your mind. You immediately jumped to the execution before you could second guess yourself.

You cocked your head just as he was still doing. Then you started to saunter over to him. Your gaze was locked onto his as you tried to not let your intention show on your face.

For once, just once, did you want to be the one leaving him flustered and in desperate need for more.

Astarion’s smug facial expression shook slightly the closer you came. For a moment you thought you even saw a slither of fear and worry run over his face. But this surely must’ve been an illusion, right?

His eyes became wide and round. Probably unbeknownst to him, but yet another thing that made you fall for his trap harder. Whenever the vulnerable person beneath all the sultry jokes and the perfect mask showed you wanted nothing more but to keep him safe.

But this wasn’t your focus now.

You shortly stopped before him, staring into his open eyes. Then you stepped closer even until you were almost touching him and you could take in his smell again. He gasped silently, all while his gaze never left yours.

And then your hands shot up, grabbing his face, pulling him to you once more in a kiss. You made him do the same thing he’d done with you: with your body pushing him back step by step. Then when Astarion’s boot heel hit a low stone of the ruins, you gave him a little push, so he landed with his butt on the stone.

You immediately followed, pressing your legs to his shins and knees so he wouldn’t have a way to get up - trapping him.

Heat was coursing through your body as you looked down on him now.

Astarion was breathing heavily now through his open mouth. He held your gaze - his expression surprised but not scared. If anything it was dominated by hunger now, demanding to be fed.

And so you did: sitting down on his lap, straddling him with both your thighs firmly pressing around his hips, ripping a low groan from him. Immediately you ground against him, already feeling his hardening arousal.

You grabbed his face with both hands and without hesitation pressed your mouth to his once more. This time you were in charge, your tongue playing with his and exploring his mouth.

Meanwhile Astarion’s hands both moved to cup your behind, squeezing your butt with splayed fingers, earning him your moan.

One of your hands went to the back of Astarion’s head, gripping some of his curls so you could pull back his head some more and shift your weight on his lap. You were leading this, you had him pinned - and you were keen to draw out the moment.

Your other hand caressed his face, fingers spreading, then wandering over one of his pointy ears, softly tugging, caressing and teasing - rewarding you with what could only be called a pleading whimper.

You rolled your hips again while your lips were still eagerly moving on his, not letting up, not giving Astarion a moment where he might take charge again.

Again, you were ready to just go all the way. Strip down bare here and now and just give into the carnal need that threatened to consume you both - but where would be the fun in that? And also you had been taught by a master.

Your last coup was to drag your tongue slowly along Astarion’s teeth. Feeling the sting of the vampire’s sharp fang as you drew your tongue along it.

A coppery taste flooded you for a moment; you’d drawn blood. Good, just as you had intended.

Of course Astarion had also immediately tasted your blood. His grip on you immediately intensified. A low growl rumbled in his chest when your taste hit him.

Your eyes that had been closed for the passionate kiss, flew open when you heard the vampire’s sharp intake of breath. His eyes were open too now and you saw how the black of pupils almost drowned out the red of his irises.

You gasped as you were eye to eye with the predator. Shortly asking yourself if it had been a good idea to wander willingly into his arms - his trap, as he had said before - and offer yourself up so eagerly.

Because this was also when the tides turned again.

One of Astarion’s arms looped around you while his other hand went up to grab your face. He pulled you even closer as he shifted his weight. Your hands slipped from their grip in his curls and went to simply cup his face as the vampire leaned you back.

He held your face in his firm grip as he groaned and deepened the kiss even more, eagerly trying to taste you fully. His tongue ran over yours as he was claiming your mouth once more.

He was leaning forward so much now as he eagerly sucked up every last delicious drop of you that you were arching your back, leaning back into nothing but thin air on his lap. Held in place only by his arm firmly looped around your waist and his hand pressing your face to his.

But soon every last drop of you for that moment had been abundantly tasted and devoured. One carnal desire - if not filled - at least postponed to a later time. Leaving one other still.

The kiss had slowed a bit again. But you still felt Astarion’s and your own arousal pretty evidently. The one tasted pleasure had fueled the other. But you had always only planned to tease him. To give the vampire a taste of his own medicine.

You arched your back once more to press your body against his harder one last time. Meanwhile you dragged his bottom lip between your lips just for a short moment, making the vampire groan and squeeze you against him harder, one of his hands on your butt again.

But then - at the height of your eager teasing - you withdrew. Startling Astarion so much with how you just swiftly got up from his lap that he simply let you go.

His eyes were still wide and he was obviously still feeling the rush of tasting your blood and from the kiss. His chest was lifting time and again as he was obviously desperate to regain composure. Besides surprise, admiration snuck into his gaze and into the smile he offered you now while he leisurely leaned one of his arms on his knees. His white curls were now thoroughly dishevelled as you noticed with satisfaction.

You were very much pleased with yourself, especially since resisting the urge had been no easy feat and you could still feel the need to grab and feel Astarion right this instant. But for once you had turned the tables - having the hunter end up in the prey’s claws just this time.

“Tonight then”, you answered Astarion’s previous question with a smirk. And then you turned and left your catch struggle. To return to it at a later time - and finish the job.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

[honeytonedhottie]

how to successfully rebrand⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧁

this post is a collaboration with my FAVORITE @prettieinpink. in this post we'll elaborate on rebranding urself and implementing change in a way that is not only efficient but not that difficult to do ✨

FLIP THE SCRIPT ;

write down who u wanna become. what ur goals are, what ur style is like, ur schedule, achievements, relationships etc. however instead of writing it like "it'll happen one day" write it as though it happened already.

on the flip side i want u to write down what u think hinders you or blocks u from making the rebrand that u want so desperately. ur weakness. then flip them and find solutions on how to deal with it entirely, or diminish it significantly.

EXPAND ON UR BEAUTY ;

learn how to do makeup that is suited for ur own features. learn which clothes and colors compliment and flatter you the best. when u try and use a cookie-cutter approach to beauty as a way to fit a standard, you won't feel/look ur best.

thats why its important to know your own self the very best. no one knows ur beauty and body like you do so only you know best how to make ur beauty bloom.

DEVELOP UR OWN STYLE ;

u dont have to follow along with every single trend that u see in the fashion industry. although its fun at times or the particular trend can inspire u to create more outfits, its important to have a sense of individuality when u dress.

i recommend creating a pinterest board and filling it up with clothes that u love and clothes that align with ur style. find a fashion inspiration or multiple if u dont know where to start. when u go shopping, reference this board and look for clothes that r similar to the clothes in ur pinterest board.

REFRESH BUTTON ;

block the numbers of people that keep u trapped in a version of urself that u no longer associate with. get comfy with the block button girlies!! you can control who sticks around you and you're directly responsible for protecting ur peace.

delete photos of people who are no longer in ur life (like, they hurt u or walked out of ur life/vice versa) change up ur environment and what ur staring at every single day. unfollow people on social media who dont inspire you/who make u feel bad about urself and where u are on ur rebranding journey.

ADAPT ;

remember that list that we made earlier? lets learn to adapt habits can cultivate that and make this rebrand thrive. identify nonsense in ur life and learn how to get comfortable with cutting it off.

EXECUTE ;

now its time to put everything that we've covered into a action with a few easy and simple steps.

do ur SWOT analysis (strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats)

create solutions to what u classify as ur weakness

commit to yourself and your rebrand

[golden-earcuffs]

I just want to reflect how much the Loki show ruined Loki as a character for me and how much disheartened I was with it.

I had always wanted a spinoff on him, which explored him more. And the Loki show did anything but that.

Do you guys remember how Loki was in Infinity War for like 5 minutes, yet Tom Hiddleston was at almost every media interaction the cast had? The same thing happened in the show as well. They used him to market the show, then sidelined him in his own show. I think that was unacceptable, because they used Loki as a bait to promote a character that I held no emotions for.

Sylvie.

The argument that one does not like Sylvie because they “hate a strong female character/a character with complex arcs” is so pathetic. I don’t think I would’ve liked Sylvie even if she had the most elaborate arc in the MCU (which she doesn’t) because it just wasn’t meant to be about her.

I wanted to see Loki’s story, his journey, and if you take this moment to interject with the statement that “she’s Loki too, just different”, then I say that I wanted to see our Loki, the one who was broken when he found out that he was the monster parents told their children about at night, the one who had plethora of iconic dialogues while fighting the avengers, who was killed only for us to realize that he wasn’t.

Everytime I said that we needed a Loki spinoff before it was announced was not because I wanted new characters, it was because I wanted to see more of the character that was already there, very much beloved by the fans. I wanted them to explore his character in a deeper sense and maybe dip a little into mythology as well.

I think Loki was one of those characters that neither needed a love interest nor was ready for one. I don’t ship him with either Sylvie or Mobius, because it feels like neither of them genuinely like Loki for who he is.

Loki had far more compelling things they could have explored like his jotun heritage, his trauma from the time with Thanos and his magic that is the only memory he has of Frigga instead of his love life.

The whole show felt like it was written by someone who wasn’t the least bit interested in Loki and barely looked into him before creating his female counterpart.

It feels like a disrespect for the fans who were connected to Loki on an emotional level.

Why am I saying this now, after like 2 years since the show came out?

I don’t know, after hearing the news about season 2 releasing in October, I just feel so upset. Tired. I hate this show much because it made Loki so irrelevant to me. A sidepiece in his own show. He went around in ugly costumes and all the regal vibes I had from him just disappeared.

I still remember a time when Loki was on the top of my favorite characters, and I loved him so much. I still do, but I’m not sure if I’ll watch the 2nd season and my 13 y/o self would hate me for this.

I’ve gotten detached from his character and I hate myself for it because Loki was someone whom I adored more than anything else in the fandom world.

Loki is that one character who is loved by the fanon but absolutely despised by the canon.

[aliceintheworld]

PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: Angst 🥺 conversation about suicide, depression, uncertainty about oneself, Misuk being the best character of all 🫶 Namjoon finally makes an appearance (he appears a little, but then a little more, I promise) Jungkook being an idiot – forgive him, for he doesn't know what he's doing.

A/N: I'm back!! First, I wanted to thank you all for the affection I've been receiving. Thank you so much for the messages and interactions! If you want to send non-anonymous messages, I even prefer it, because I can follow you 🥰 Pure Attraction is a not very elaborate story, I know, but it has become an important part of my life, so I thank you for reading all these chapters, you don't know how much this means. Without further ado, here is the chapter.

P.S.: Later, still today, I will post the next chapter 🤌

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 10

The journey back home has never felt so long. Minutes pass, yet it feels as if the clock's hands are stuck. I try to take a deep breath, but I can't. My head is filled with memories, occasions when I could have done something different. I was so foolish, so stupid. Filled with regret, I can't even look at myself in the reflection of the window. I remember my father, my mother, and I wonder what they would say if they knew I made a mistake with no way to turn back. My eyes fill with tears, almost instantly, for the fourth time today alone. Mrs. Jeon remains silent, looking through the coffee table of her house.

She sighs and gaze at her own hands before locking eyes with me, as if she understands me in some way. But I don’t know if anyone could comprehend what I’m going through at this moment. I feel... used. As if, even with my consent, Jungkook took advantage of me, of my innocence and of my inexperience. At the same time, I can't place all the blame on him. I made a mistake, I should have been more cautious and I let him inside of my life.

"Are you okay?" Misuk asks, almost in a whisper. I try to shake my head and force a smile, but I can't. She sways her hair and clicks her tongue nervously. "I can't believe Jungkook did this to you, dear. He’s my son, but I don’t agree with any of this."

"He’s not the only one to blame," I deny; I barely recognize my own voice, weak and trembling.

The last time I saw myself this way was when, during a difficult year, I didn't want to visit my father's grave, and my mother opposed it. The anguish is different, but equally overwhelming.

"Can you explain how you two got so… close?" she questions. "I mean, it hasn’t been long since he came to Busan. Did you have many opportunities to talk?"

"A few." I shrug. That doesn’t matter now. I’m angry and don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to lock myself in my room and pretend everything was a terrible nightmare. "Sorry, I don't even know where to begin. I feel awful."

"You can talk to me."

"You’re his mother."

"I am." She smiles, placing a hand on mine, gently caressing my skin. I immediately feel a maternal love and care I haven’t experince in years. My crying intensifies as I realize that the person I need right now isn’t with me—my mother. Even if she were here, she wouldn’t help. She would judge me, make me feel bad about my mistakes, just as she has done in the past, and I don't need this right now. "Y/N, I’m Jungkook’s mother, but I understand what you’re going through. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?" I frown, confused. Her dark eyes fill with tears, just like mine.

"When I was around your age, I fell in love with a man. He was two years older, and so handsome. He seemed like a dream, someone so different from me, yet so similar—almost like he was a part of me." She tells me looking ahead, as if she could see the memories playing out before her. "He is Jungkook’s father. He was my first love."

"What do you mean?" I whisper. "Mr. Jeon isn’t Jungkook’s father?"

"He isn’t." She shakes her head. "That’s why I say I understand you. It was the first time I fell in love with someone. It was also the first time my trust was broken. When he found out I was pregnant, he left. I was alone, working a part-time job I didn’t even like, that paid poorly and had no support. Those were the worst years of my life."

"Misuk, I don’t know what to say," I respond, with a knot in my throat. She had never shared this while we talked about the past. But I understand her, in a way. It must be hard to relive those memories, and even harder to confide them to someone.

"You don’t have to say anything. I, after all this time, have moved on. The fear of being abandoned, however, still hasn’t healed, even with twenty-six years gone by." She smiles again, but I know she’s more hurt than she wants to show. "Dear, I care about you. I love you like a daughter, even. You’ve been with me during these days, and we’ve grown so close. I see parts of myself in you. The way my mother treated me, the absence of my father. It’s all so similar. That’s why I say I understand you."

"It all happened so… suddenly." I comment to myself, looking down. The shame of crying, and the shame of what I did, prevent me from looking her in the eyes. "I know I should have been more careful, but I was so happy... I don't get it."

"Jungkook, being more experienced than you, should have talked to you, asked what your expectations were, and told you what his intentions were. If he didn’t want something serious, a commitment, he should have warned you." She argues, not letting me continue. It’s as if she wants to lift the guilt I’m feeling, and I'm really thankful for that.

"Yes, but I was so naive. I was a fool to think he could like me the same way I like him." I groan, covering my face as more tears come. My chest hurts just remembering him. His kisses, his touches. He was so gentle with me, treating me like no one else ever had. He listened to me, and that was enough for me.

"Did you... did you have sex?" Misuk asks, running her hand along my back in a comforting gesture that soothes my pain, at least a little.

"I-I... Misuk..."

"It’s okay. You can trust me. You can open up and tell me." She smiles, without judgment. I just shake my head embarrassed, exposed, somewhat humiliated.

"We did it last night. It was very sudden." I try to explain, even if I don’t have many words to do it.

"Was it your first time? Is that why Eunji thinks you slept at my house? She said that yesterday, and I didn’t understand."

"Yes, but that night was the first time I slept at his apartament and we hadn’t done... you know."

"You hadn’t had sex, just other things." She concludes with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

My cheeks burn, even when I try not to. It’s very difficult to talk about this kind of subject, even with Misuk, because I never had anyone to talk to when I was a teenager. My view of sex always came from books, whether educational or romantic.

"That’s it." I confirm, shaking my head.

"Are you in love?" Mrs. Jeon asks me when a silence falls between us.

I take a moment, reflecting about the question as if it were the most difficult one of my life. What does it mean to be in love? Is it feeling a flutter in your chest every time you see the person? Is it having a wild rush of energy that courses through your body uncontrollably? Is it standing still and feeling your heart race a thousand miles an hour? Is it missing that person and wanting to hear from them every day? If that’s the case, then yes, I’m in love. The realization of this fact hurts me even more. It makes me feel weaker. How could I be so foolish? How could I think someone would be interested in me when no one else had?

A flood of memories overwhelms me. If I had known I’d feel this pain, I would have never gotten close to Jungkook. I would have shut my window the first time I saw him, and never opened up again.

"It’s okay." She reassures me, hugging me. I hug her back, trying to purge the feeling of rejection that’s almost lodged in my chest.

"He just turned his back on me. He didn’t even see me when I left. It’s as if he got what he wanted and then I wasn’t worth the effort anymore." I vent, hurt, too wounded to stop the words pouring out.

"Jungkook is a fool." She shakes her head, pressing her lips together. "At the same time, he’s stuck in this messed-up relationship. I’ve told him millions of times that they’re not good for each other. I told him that true love doesn’t hurt, doesn’t deceive, but he’s stubborn like no one else."

"Does he really talk to his ex?" I ask, hoping it’s not as I imagine. That maybe they talk, but not as much as I’ve put in my head.

"The last time we talked about this was two days ago. He told me Namjoon called him, and they had a conversation for twenty minutes. He’s very deluded." She shakes her head, angry. Two days ago we were texting. I know we had no commitment and hadn’t established anything, but to me it’s worse to know he didn’t respect this moment. That it didn’t mean anything to him. While I melted over our messages and smiled like a fool for his attention, he was with his ex, doing the same with someone else.

"Did Namjoon really cheat on Jungkook? Why does he still try? Why does he still talk to him?"

"Namjoon was his first boyfriend. They were together for almost five years, and at one point, they practically lived together. When Jungkook was alone in Seoul, working in a tattoo studio, he met Namjoon and fell in love almost at first sight. He was very shy, introverted, with few friends in the new city. I think that helped them form a strong connection." Misuk explains. She seems to know a lot about the situation, as if she followed everything in detail, even from a distance.

"Have you ever met him... I mean, have you met Namjoon?" I ask, hesitant. My heart races for some reason. My hands feel cold with anxiety.

"Yes." She nods, sighing. "He’s a great guy, I can’t deny that. He works at a book publishing company, very intelligent and kind. I think that’s why Jungkook fell for him. At the same time, Namjoon is someone who wants more. He wants to achieve other things, and when the relationship got in the way of his goals, he didn’t think twice before stepping on everything they built together. Jungkook was devastated."

"How long ago was that?"

"About three months." She says; her body suddenly tenses. "That’s when I tried to take my own life."

"Mrs. Jeon... Jungkook told me what happened." I say, not really knowing if it’s right to tell her the truth. But it’s the first time she’s opened up about the subject, and I don’t think it’s fair, especially now that she told me so much about her past, to hide this from her. Her eyes widen, and then she smiles awkwardly.

"He really is an idiot. He must have told you to keep an eye on me." She says, shaking her head as if recalling her son’s actions, however she doesn't seen to hold any resentment towards him, regarding this. "He’s always been very careful. Always very protective. Jungkook has his flaws, but I think I understand why you fell for him. He’s stubborn but takes care of those he loves. I feel guilty for, even unknowingly, adding this weight to his shoulders. I’ve been feeling better now."

"Are you really okay?" I ask, somewhat uncertain.

"I am. I’m taking my medication, going to therapy, and visiting support groups once a week. Sometimes when I feel bad, I seek comfort. I know that ending my life isn’t an option. I don’t want to leave my son alone." She states. I search her eyes for any hint of untruth, anything that tells me she’s not okay, but I find nothing. I’m glad to know that, at least she, is evolving and improving. "But you know what’s making me feel better, Y/N?"

"What?" I ask, eager to know the answer. Whatever it is, I need an urgent dose of what is making her feel better.

"You." She smiles; more tears appear in her eyes, this time from happiness. "You’ve made my days better. I want you to know you can count on me. For everything." She confesses. Her voice deepens as I break down again.

"Thank you so much." I say sincerely. I have a friend. I have someone I can count on, and that brings me such a great relief that it feels like I could die.

"It’s okay. No more crying Y/N." She gets up from the couch, smiling. She raises her arms and wipes her face with her shirt. "Dear, tell me. Did you use protection? Did you take precautions?"

"No." I flush at the confession, feeling like a child who has no idea of the consequences of her actions. "He went out to buy a morning-after pill, but you arrived and..."

"It’s fine. Don’t worry." She holds her hands up, as if all of this doesn’t matter. "You don’t need to explain. I know that in the heat of the moment, you don’t think about anything. That’s why I had Jungkook when I was twenty." She laughs, making me feel even more embarrassed. "I’ll buy you a pill. Don’t worry; everything will be fine."

"Mrs. Jeon, you don’t have to. I'm going to do it."

"I don’t want to be a grandma so young, Y/N." She jokes, making me laugh too. "And it’s not a problem at all. I want to see you well, and that’s what matters."

"Thank you." I express my gratitude. Not just for the pill, but for everything. Even though it hurts, being here with her alleviates, at least a little, the torment I’m feeling.

"You don’t need to thank me. Everything will be okay." She assures me, and I accept it. I pray to God that all of this I’m feeling will soon come to an end.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" I hear a voice behind me. I don’t look right away, afraid to fall.

Since the library shelves are very high, I usually use a mobile ladder to organize the books, so before I make sure who it is, I carefully step down the rungs. When I finally reach the ground, I regret coming down. It’s Hayun, Jungkook’s friend. Not because of her, of course, as I enjoyed meeting her, but because of him, who has kept me awake for the past three days.

"Are you okay? It’s been a while since we last saw each other." She smiles. She approaches and kisses my cheek suddenly. She seems to genuinely like me, and I’m grateful for that. Her outgoing personality couldn’t be better right now. My energy, ever since that argument happened, has been dwindling.

"I’m okay." I say, putting on my best smile. "And you? How have you been?"

"Busier every day. With the move and everything."

"You’re moving?" I ask, curious.

"Yes, didn’t Jungkook tell you?" She asks, and just the mention of his name makes my chest ache. The crying and tears have passed, but I’m far from normal with everything that happened. He hasn’t sent me any messages, and I can’t stop thinking that somehow, I was just a conquest for him. A night of sex that is already forgotten.

"No, he didn’t tell me. We haven’t... talked."

"Seriously? He’s been talking a lot about you." I raise an eyebrow, startled.

"What do you mean? What has he said?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can control myself. Hayun laughs, as if she notices my sudden interest.

"He says random things. That you like to read, or that you’re in college and you cook well. Random stuff like that." She comments, approaching one of the shelves to take a look at a book. "Anyway, I’m moving soon. Me and the guys, we’re all going to Seoul."

"With Jungkook?" I bite my lower lip, intrigued.

"Yeah, I’m from Seoul and wanted to go anyway, but we’ve been talking about everyone moving there for years. We were just waiting for Bora and Taehyung to finish college." She closes the book and puts it back, shrugging. I nod in agreement. Good for them. It feels like I’ll be the only one stuck here, stagnant for the rest of my life. I feel bad. I should make a list of topics I can’t discuss without feeling like a fraud. Damn it.

"That’s great... Hayun, I have to go now. I’m working. But it was nice to see you again." I say sincerely. It’s like seeing her again makes me a little closer to Jungkook. I don’t want to think about him, yet simultaneously, I can’t get enough of him. I’m going to go crazy.

"It was nice to see you too, really." She says, smiling. "I don’t want to bother you or anything, but before you go... I wanted to ask, are you going to the party tonight?"

"What party?" I frown, confused.

"The celebration. The studio opened, and we’re having a party at Yoongi’s house. It’ll be the last one before we move to Seoul. What do you think?" She grabs my arm, full of excitement. I shake my head immediately, flustered. Jungkook probably hasn’t told his friends what happened between us, and I don’t know if I should be sad or happy about that.

"I can’t, really." I respond, trying my best expression.

"Come on! Let’s go, Y/N, it’ll be fun. It’s for Jungkook. It’s important to him."

"It’s precisely because of him I’m not going." I whisper to her, softly. Hayun stops smiling and glares at me intently.

"Did something happen? You can tell me. Did the idiot do something to you?"

"He didn’t do anything." I half-lie, half-try to hide. Him sleeping with me while still talking to his ex isn’t exactly a huge thing. We hadn’t established anything serious yet. Though, in my head, he is wrong in any case.

"If he didn’t do anything, you should go. He’s really happy about the studio. He worked for about four years to save the money he needed."

"Hayun..." I sigh, embarrassed. "Actually, something did happen. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go. It’s to avoid ruining his night that I’m saying no." I finish, somewhat nervously. My body trembles with sadness and bitterness.

"Hey, you can count on me. I won’t tell the idiot anything you say. I’m a jerk, but not a bad friend." She rolls her eyes, clapping her hands together. I chuckle helplessly. She’s funny. I had forgotten this little detail.

"Alright, but I’ll be brief. I really need to get to work." I say. Hayun nods silently in agreement. "Jungkook and I did have a thing."

"I knew it!" She exclaims, in the middle of the hallway. Since it’s a library, her loud voice echoes throughout the place, drawing the attention of the few customers to us. I laugh in despair, covering my mouth with my hand. "Sorry, I spoke too loud. But I knew it! the way he talks about you... he likes you."

"I don’t think he likes me that much." I whisper, losing my smile. "He doesn’t want commitment, and that’s why we drifted apart. He still seems to care a lot about his ex."

"Namjoon." Hayun grunts his name without enthusiasm, rolling her eyes. Her once cheerful face, suddenly tightens. "I know. I liked him until I found out what he did to Jungkook. No one has spoken to him since."

"Yeah. Well. That’s why I think it’s better not to go. I want this to be a good moment for him, anyway. I don’t want to cause any discomfort." I vent, gathering my hands that get sweaty, every time I think about this topic. I have to swallow hard to avoid more tears and appearing like a fool in front of his friend.

"I still think you should go. You won’t ruin anyone’s night; I’m sure of that. And it's Yoongi’s house, it’s not like you can’t go." The brunette argues.

"Even so, the party is for him."

"Y/N, Jungkook won’t be in Busan for long. Don’t you think it’s better for you to talk, whether to end whatever it is you have, so you can both move on without resentment?" She suggests, making me think.

I shake my head for the tenth time in this conversation. I don’t know if it would be a good idea. It’s the first time I’ve ever had feelings for someone, and I don’t know if to end what I feel, I should talk to him. My romantic experiences are based on books, and in books, the heroines are never rejected. Just imagining even for a second, if I go to this party Jungkook will show discomfort or indifference, makes me panic. A strong shiver runs through my whole body with the thought.

"I don’t know if it’s a good idea." I reply, shrugging. Hayun sighs, tapping her boot on the wooden floor.

"Okay. Let’s do this: you’ll go. Stay for five minutes. If you see it’s better not to force things and forget all of this, I’ll take you home myself." She says, putting her hands together as if in prayer.

"You’re quite persistent, huh." I murmur, laughing. I roll my eyes, reflecting. Should I talk to him? Should I give myself a chance to hear him out and maybe understand his side? Even if we don’t end up together, and I end up sad, wouldn’t it be better to finish whatever it is we had, so I can move on?

For the past three days, all I could think about was him. There hasn’t been a single hour where I could relax, read, or watch something like I always did. I sigh, groaning. Then I nod my head, still unsure. My mother is still out of town, and that gives me a little more freedom than usual. Hayun lets out a high-pitched scream and bounces around, hugging me. It’s as if with my decision alone, I’ve made her day happier.

"You’re going to love it! Yoongi’s parties are always so much fun." She assures me with a confidence I don’t have. I went to a party once, and I remember hating everything. Both the music and the people.

"I hope so." I laugh, not very sure about what I’m doing. I want to give up on this idea because it makes no sense, and at the same time, I want to show that I’m brave. That I can face my fears. I don’t want to run away of everything forever.

I can do this!

I can’t do this. I can’t do this!

I look at my outfit and feel like going back outside, running after the taxi I took to get here. My long dress, made of thick fabric, has nothing to do with what these people wear. It’s as if I live on another planet, literally. The music is upbeat, playing from two speakers in the middle of the room. It’s good, considering the bizarre things I’ve heard out there. The lights are all purple, giving the place a sensual and enigmatic look. There are many people, and none of them I know. On one hand, I thank God for not running into Jungkook. On the other, I wish he’d appear before me out of nowhere, just so I could put an end to all of this, once and for all.

But what would I say? You’re a bastard, Jungkook. You didn’t promise me anything, but actions speak louder than words. Your actions didn’t show me you still loved your ex. I could say all of that, but how would it help me? Being honest with myself, I came because I felt afraid that, that morning, three days ago, would be the last time I would see him. The last time I could look into his eyes and feel his presence. I am truly in love, and I don’t want to hold onto another regret in my life.

I look side to side, trying to find Hayun, but in the middle of so many people, it’s hard to recognize anyone. I walk through the room, bumping into a few women. They don’t mind, though. I don’t know the environment very well, but the further I get from the crowd, the more I can enter the open backyard, which has a huge pool. Hayun sent me the address an hour ago; maybe if I called her, I could find her more easily. When I take my phone out of my small bag, determined to complete the call, I spot a red-haired figure that catches my attention. Yoongi. It must be him. I walk slowly towards his group of friends, feeling apprehensive, afraid of accidentally colliding into Jungkook.

"Y/N! Over here!" I confirm my suspicions when Hayun waves her arms in the air, as she recognizes me despite the low light. I smile faintly, walking closer to everyone. They all seem unbelievably beautiful, well-dressed, with an air of excitement that I don’t possess. "You made it! I thought you got lost."

"I took a taxi. It’s just far from where I live." I apologize, shrugging.

"Don’t worry. I haven’t had anything to drink. If you need anything, I’ll take you home, okay?" She smiles, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head. Hayun looks prettier when she does that. "Guys, look who’s here. Y/N!"

I shake my head, greeting them. They seem happy to see me, which relieves 50% of my worries. My stiff and tense shoulders, from imagining scenarios where none of them wanted to see me. I’m relieved to realize that this isn’t happening in reality.

"Y/N, how are you?" Bora kisses my cheek, just like the other girls. Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung nod, sipping something from their cups.

"I’m good." I smile, feeling awkward. I look around for Jungkook, but he’s nowhere in sight. At least not as far as I can see. "It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other."

"Right? What have you been up to, Y/N?" Yoori, Taehyung’s girlfriend, asks. I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t have much to say.

"I’ve been working a lot." I say, honestly. Partly because it’s true, and partly because I don’t know how far I can tell. Do Yoongi, Jimin or Taehyung know that I was with Jungkook? I’m so paranoid about this I can hardly look them in their eyes.

"She works at the Dongseo University bookstore. When I went to pick up some books, I found her there." Hayun circles her arm around my shoulder, smiling. I nod in agreement. "Y/N, Jungkook is around here; he went to get something to drink." She whispers the last part in my ear, trying to keep everyone else from hearing, and with all this noise, it’s not too hard.

My breath catches when I think I might run into him at any moment. My heart beats like it’s going to burst out of my chest, and my legs feel like jelly from so much nervousness. When I think of a mantra to calm me down and finally face things like a normal person, head held high, I see him coming toward his friends, not really seeing them. It’s as if he’s so lost in thought that he can’t see anyone a foot in front of him. Hayun beside me suddenly gasps. She mutters something near me, and I only feel her tense body, because she is pressed against mine. Everyone looks at Jungkook with expressions of discomfort that I can't quite understand.

"Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t know." She says, shaking her head. I frown, confused. What’s happening?

"What’s wrong? Is everything okay?" I ask, anxious, feeling all kinds of emotions at once.

"That guy next to Jungkook." She says, discreetly pointing to a very handsome man, just a few inches taller than him. "That guy is..."

"Namjoon? What’s he doing here?" Jimin questions, crossing his arms over his chest, interrupting his friend. My eyes widen as they approach. My whole body pulls back, and I want to disappear. To be swallowed by the earth and never inhabit this world again. But it’s too late. Jungkook is already here. And his dark, big eyes grow wider when they see me.

"Y/N?" He asks, confused.

Fuck.

"J-Jungkook. Hi." I nod my head. The fear of making any move and embarrassing myself in front of everyone, is overwhelming. The fear that he might just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist, is even greater. I swallow hard, frozen in place. I can’t even greet him properly.

Jungkook doesn’t move either. He stares at me in a static way, and everyone in the group seems to notice. Even Namjoon, his ex-boyfriend. He’s handsome. With his black hair, lean strong body, and a masculine perfume that exudes confidence. My insecurities about myself intensifies. If I had known he would be here, I would have never come. I was a fool to think this would be a good closure. Jungkook hasn’t wanted to talk to me for the past three days. Why would he want to talk to me now? The urge to cry returns, and I’m tired of this situation.

"I didn’t know you’d come, Namjoon." Hayun says beside me, still with her arms around my shoulders. I lower my head, embarrassed.

"I decided at the last minute. I had to come to support Jungkook." He smiles, and he’s even more attractive when he does, forming charming dimples on his cheeks.

"Wonderful." Yoongi grins, but I have the feeling it’s not very sincere. His dark eyes show feelings far from happiness. "I hope you came to stay for a short time. I don’t want certain people in my house."

"Yoongi!" Jungkook scolds his friend, and my throat tightens. Is he defending his ex-boyfriend? Doesn’t he realize the gravity of what Namjoon did? He cheated on him!

"Don’t worry." He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes it with an intimacy that makes me extremely uncomfortable. "I came just to see you; I won’t stay long, anyway."

"He was kidding." Jungkook clarifies to him, his voice somewhat hoarse. Then he lowers his head and looks at me again. His eyes are so intense that I have to take a deep breath, struggling to breathe normally. "Actually, I need to talk to Y/N."

"What?" I ask, surprised. My body tenses up again, stiff. Hayun lets out a small smile that everyone notices, and shakes her hair, almost as if the whole situation were a movie, and she’s the spectator.

"I told you it would be a good idea for you to come." She says, and her voice is so loud that it’s as if she wants everyone to hear, especially Namjoon, who bites his lips and watches me. His gaze is enigmatic. I can’t tell if he feels anger or discomfort. Or neither.

"Hayun, please..." I whisper. "And Jungkook, I was actually leaving."

"You weren’t." Hayun argues, furrowing her brow. "You just got here, and you’re staying. You’re welcome here."

"I don’t know..."

"Please, Y/N, I wanted to talk to you. Stay a little longer." Jungkook whispers, biting his rosy lips. His face looks sad, but I can’t believe it’s because of me. If he liked me, even a little, he wouldn’t be standing next to his ex with almost an intimate proximity. I can’t understand him. Not at all.

"Okay." I agree, uncomfortable with everyone watching us, as if we’re animals in a zoo. I don’t want to imagine what they’re thinking.

"Namjoon, I’ll talk to Y/N. I’ll be back soon." He smiles faintly, looking at the dark-haired man. Namjoon just nods and gaze at me one more time.

"Okay. No problem. I’ll stay here with your friends." He says, and I catch a glimpse of Jimin sighing as he takes a large gulp of his drink.

We move away from the group in silence. His hand approaches the end of my back, but he doesn’t touch me. My brain feels like it’s going to fry. There’s so much I want to say, and at the same time, so much that isn’t worth saying. I feel so bad. The way he said he would return to his ex is one of those reasons. Why does he stay in this relationship? Doesn’t he realize he would be happier if he just distanced himself from Namjoon? But that’s my opinion, and he clearly doesn’t think that way. We approach a tree, further away from the party, in the backyard. I lean my back against it, fearing I won’t have strength in my legs. I can’t even look him in the eyes. I don’t have the courage for that. We stand in silence for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

"Are you okay?" He asks me quietly. If he weren’t so close and we weren’t so far from the music, I wouldn’t be able to hear him.

"I am." I respond, trying to form a smile that isn’t real. "And you?"

"Yeah." He smiles too; he tosses his hair back, closes his eyes and sighs, watching me. "You look very beautiful."

"Thank you." I say, feeling awkward. I don’t feel beautiful; I feel terrible.

"Y/N, I don’t know what to say." He says, placing his hand on the trunk of the tree, behind me. His scent invades my nose whether I like it or not. I have to use all my self-control not to respond to any of his movements. "I haven’t been well since that morning. I don’t feel good."

"You don’t feel good." I repeat his words, finding it amusing. He doesn’t feel good? Seriously?

"You may not believe it, but I had to hold myself back from calling you."

"You could have called." I shrug, speaking. My voice sounds ironic, but I can’t be any different. I’m angry. So angry and sad. It’s as if all the bad feelings are inside my chest right now.

"I could, but I shouldn’t. I wanted to take some time to think, and you needed that too." He argues, furrowing his brow. "I want you to know that Namjoon is here, but I didn’t know he would come. It was a surprise to me too."

"You must have been thrilled." I respond with a not-so-happy smile. Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and tightens his jaw, irritated.

"I wasn’t thrilled. I’m not happy, if that’s what you're saying."

"Jungkook... I get it. You want to be with him. I may be inexperienced, but I can read the situation. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. There’s nothing to explain. I just came because I wanted to say I’m happy for you. To congratulate you. Just that."

"You didn’t come just for that." He says in denial. "I can see it in your eyes."

"You know me so well, don’t you?" I respond ironically, trying to hide the extent to which I’m affected. I want to leave. I shouldn’t have come to this party. I shouldn’t be here with him.

"Y/N, please..."

"Jungkook, what are you doing here with me?" I lose my patience, finally reaching my limit. I push away from the tree, my stomach churning. "Why aren’t you with him? With Namjoon? I’m not important to you, so why are you pretending like I am?!"

"I already told you to stop acting like you know me better than I know myself." He grunts, his face reddening with anger.

"It doesn’t matter what you say. I’ve already told you: actions speak louder than words, and you’ve proven that to me since that morning. You didn’t call me for three days simply because you didn’t want to!"

"Y/N..."

"You don’t want to be with me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to be. I already understand where your limits are; just... just don’t pretend to like me if you don’t care about me!" I finish, trembling. My eyes fill with tears, and I feel so vulnerable, anxious. Jungkook has always brought out the best in me, and now I don’t even recognize myself.

"I care about you." He moves closer, furrowing his brows. His dark eyes grow bright. If it weren’t for the lack of light, I could swear he’s about to cry too. He gets even closer and touches my cheek with his hand, gently caressing my skin, sending chills down my spine. I want to pull away from him, but I can’t. "Y/N, I really like you. I didn’t call because I needed some time."

"Stop..." I plead, in a whisper. Both for his words and for his touches. I wrap my hand around his wrist, but I don’t halt him from continuing. I don’t move, half weak, half uncertain, afraid he’ll stop and nervous he’ll keep going.

"I missed you." Jungkook says softly in my ear. His body almost fully pressed against mine. His breath hits my neck; his strong chest touching my breasts. And I don’t know if it’s his heart or mine, racing a thousand miles an hour, so fast and strong.

"Jungkook, stop." I beg, but I can’t pull away myself. He takes his face away from my neck and looks at me once more. His pupils dilate, and they go straight to my mouth. A shiver runs through my entire body as he moistens his lips with his tongue, with a desire so exposed that I can’t mistake it for anything else. And I let him come closer, so damn slowly, as if we’re in slow motion. When I finally close my eyes, surrendered, hypnotized, I hear someone calling him.

"Jungkook?"

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments

@joonwater @ane102 @ttipa @kookienooki

[yuurei20]

Lilia Facts Part 2: Lilia's Past (pt2)

During Lilia's dream Sebek explains to a baffled Grim that Lilia was once “famed for his peerless might.”

Enemies refer to Lilia as “the Dragon's Hand,” recognizing him by his small build and massive magearm.

Baul expresses annoyance that Lilia, their esteemed General of the Right, has been assigned a diplomacy task that should be the work of nobles.

Lilia explains that the fae are simply outnumbered by humans and their “nobles are a useless lot. They'd swoon where they stood at the first whiff of iron,” which is why Maleanor selected him for the job.

As Lilia beats back the invaders he is recognized as “the strongest guy in Briarland” by the inhabitants of Briarland, with a child giving him a good-luck charm.

Someone asks him to punish the enemies who took away their family and fields and Lilia responds, “I wield my magearm for Lady Maleficia, the one who took me in...as well as Lady Maleanor. I can't wield it just to make you feel better. Don't go burdening me with your troubles.”

Lilia says that he will be crushing the invaders regardless, and the Briarland citizen offers him nuts and berries in thanks.

Lilia also receives a magearm from a grateful smithfairy and is thanked by multiple other inhabitants for his efforts to protect them.

Lilia seems impatient with Baul’s refusal to eat the meals cooked by Sebek and the others, commenting, “it's always like this with the people that have "honorable" upbringings...pride doesn't fill an empty stomach, you know.”

At one point on their journey Lilia magically acquires a fruit that Sebek had been wary of attempting, as they were very close to an enemy stronghold and the rustling of leaves would give them away.

Lilia explains, “I've only ever missed once,” but when asked what he was aiming for at the time, he deflects the question.

Lilia says he doesn't own enough things to leave much clutter but he knows that once Maleanor’s egg hatches he is going to be stuck babysitting: “I've never liked kids, really. They're obnoxious and selfish, they cry at the drop of a hat…and what's more, they're so weak."

Sebek asks about the possibility of Lilia having a family of his own and Lilia responds, “I'm never gonna have a proper household. If my history's anything to go by…” but does not elaborate.

[tragedybunny]

hehehe~ perhaps a cute fic with reader and Astarion and he talks about all the parties he used to go to before he was turned- and he dances with you 😳

Anon - So this took on a life of it's own, it reminded me of some of my Tav's backstory, so I worked in some elements of it. I hope it's still good. 🥺

Rhythm Like a Heartbeat - Astarion x F!Reader

Astarion and Reader share a dance that reveals more than they planned.

Wyll was teaching Karlach to dance, of all things you'd seen on this journey, this was somehow amongst the most surprising. The Blade and the "Devil" he should've slayed, moving together along with the melody from an enchanted music box someone had picked up along the way. The two of them seemed to be growing closer, and you couldn't be happier for them. You took a long drink from a pilfered wine bottle while you watched, you were all blowing off a little steam, which was well needed. Digging around for Kethric's weakness was a daunting task and the clock inside of all of you was still ticking. "Not rethinking your choices I hope." 

You'd been so lost in thought you hadn't heard Astarion come up behind you. Or he'd intentionally snuck up on you. When he wanted to go unheard or unseen, you usually didn't have a chance of not getting ambushed. Mostly he seemed to enjoy the little jump you made when surprised. Tonight you didn't disappoint, exuding a high-pitched noise along with jumping. "Astarion," you scold, "honestly! And no, of course not, just impressed by Wyll's form." 

"Really," he scoffed, not hiding his jealous streak very well at all, "he looks like a gangly teenage boy at his first gala. Clearly, you haven't had much experience in the ballroom." Part of you wanted to laugh a little, the insult was obviously ridiculous, but you knew his jealousy came from fear that he barely held on to you and could still lose you. Maybe sometime you should use the tadpole to show him just how impossible that would be. If only the thought of it didn’t fill you with revulsion. 

“I didn’t know you were such an expert, love,” you know he feels comfortable with the playful banter, and you hope it pulls him away from that place of insecurity. 

A sharp laugh answers you, “I’ll have you know I had plenty of experience, both in life and unlife.” You shoot him a look, he rarely speaks of life before Cazador, you’re not even sure how much he remembers of it. “What? I had an important job, I knew important people. Or are you just trying to get me to teach you?” An outstretched arm beckons you to join him. For a second you freeze, knowing you’re risking exposing everything you’ve held back. But hells, if you say no, he’ll take it the wrong way entirely. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be a quick study.” 

Taking his arm, you let him lead you a distance from the tent, glad Wyll and Karlach are still the center of attention, and gracefully dip your knee as he bows. Gently, one hand takes yours, the other held properly tucked behind his back. The rhythm is an easy one, but you let him take the lead. Soft steps, elaborate turns around one another, your eyes locked with his. Gods, his eyes are breathtaking when he’s looking at you, when his guard is down, soft and shining with light. Tonight, they seem full of mirth, but you’ve seen them overflowing with his sorrow and tears as well. They’ve distracted you and you forget, he’s supposed to be teaching you, your form is too good. 

Step away, one spin, back to back, face each other, palms touching. Skin like ice presses against yours, heating up with the exertion and the emotions humming through your every nerve. One night he asked if it bothered you, lying next to the chill of the grave. You only hugged him tighter and told him not to be ridiculous because you couldn’t find the right words at the time to explain that it was part of who he was and you loved all of him, even the pieces that might not seem loveable. Thinking of it that way now though, you should tell him. 

Another turn, facing away from one another again, a chance to catch your breath. It’s madness how he still affects you, even after you’d confessed to one another, you’re still swooning nervously. He’s right when he calls you “silly girl” teasingly. The finale, one more elaborate twirl, you’re no longer even thinking of the dance, muscle memory taking over. His hand catches yours and you step close to him, closer than the propriety of a noble’s dance floor would’ve ever allowed. Cheekily, he leans forward, stealing a quick kiss. “It would seem you have more talents than you’ve let on.” 

“I…”, you really don’t want to lie to him. The silence stretches far too long. “It would seem so.” 

“Hmm,” you feel him studying you, and you realize his eyes are guarded again, his posture rigid. “So tell me one thing,” you nod, terrified you’re about to shatter that fragile bond you’ve built. Lies by omission are still lies. “Which noble house are you a runaway from?” His voice is cold and hard, the Astarion you met on the beach that fateful day. How fast he can change wounds you, just like that, he’s ready to be done with you. But it’s your fault, you know how years of horror have left him with walls he’s too quick to bring up. “Or do you want to keep lying to me?” 

You shake your head. “I wish I could say.” 

“And here I thought we really had something, but clearly,” he gestures wildly, unable to contain his rising temper. 

Stinging tears begin to prick your eyes. “No, no, I wish I could say,” you emphasize, praying he’ll understand. 

Suddenly, he stills, hand coming to your cheek, eyes wide. “Is this a warlock thing?” A thumb brushes away the tear that escaped and you hear agonized regret in his voice. “Oh darling, I’m sorry, don’t cry.” Arms pull you into his chest. “Please, I didn’t realize, it’s fine.” 

“I wanted to tell you,” you sniffle into his shirt.

“Hush love, you can tell me what you’re able to, when you’re ready. Although I must insist you consider us even for any prior deception of mine. Even ones you haven’t realized yet.” He laughs that awkward, nervous laugh that happens when he’s upset, but he’s trying so you let yourself giggle a bit. “There’s my girl. Now how about we dance again and no holding back? I need to know if I can actually keep up with you.” 

The music box is still playing but you’re no longer aware of anyone else in the camp. There’s only the two of you, softly and slowly moving together. Gone are the thoughts of the elaborate courtly show, you move by instinct, bodies responding to one another as you press close together. Then you still, let yourself be wrapped in his arms, your lips brushing the hollow of his throat. “I can at least tell you that you’re the best dance partner I’ve ever had.” 

“Never doubted it my sweet,” you feel him kiss the crown of your head before resting his cheek against it.

[yourdakg]

Donation Found!

Remember Ryder? The SoCal pretty boy who was depressed that his life was a vapid, superficial, and party focused existence? He contacted Turnaround Technologies to ask, nay plead for a new body and a new life. See his Donation Request Form.

If only it were that simple. Turnaround Technologies utilizes some of the most advanced science on the market. When a body is fully adjusted, it's a slow and sometimes torturous process! If it was as simple as switching brains, that would be one thing. But the subjects have to physically transform into one another, and then brainwaves are overwritten. Chemistry, genetics, biology, and psychology are all involved in this elaborate process.

So Ryder had to come up with the $325,000 fee. Luckily, he had money saved and he was able to sell off the red Mustang convertible and his yellow Yamaha Sport Bike to meet the target. The final straw was giving up the deed to his WeHo apartment. Don't tell him, but his donor bought the items! Isn't that funny? He covered the rest with personal loans! Well, a little bit of debt won't hurt.

Let's remind you of where Ryder is starting his journey:

And now let's the see information plate for his donor. I think he'll be very pleased! After this, he'll never have to worry about being surrounded by vapid, beautiful people and fending off pesky pool party invites! Yes, this is the ideal swap partner for Ryder.

Meet Dr. Pervus Fondler. And wouldn't you know it? Dr. Fondler was a doctor in Ryder's hometown! They actually know each other. The good doctor cares very deeply for Ryder and was pained when he heard about his current circumstances. He decided that his job as a physician meant he had to step up and give the ultimate sacrifice! You know what they say: First Do No Harm.

Donor Statement: While I am nervous about the process, I am confident that I will give Ryder a new future, one where he won't have to worry about all that vanity and his gym obsession. True freedom for the boy!

Thank you, doctor, for going the extra mile for your patients. Turnaround Technologies will prepare the Exchange Chambers. Both subjects will be stripped down and cleansed before being placed in metallic, moisture wicking bikinis while our technicians prepare for the process:

Now that Ryder is dressed and the drugs are injected into his system, it's time to introduce him to his generous benefactor. I hope he has a positive reaction to the kind of man he will become. Let's check in!

Patient Statement: No! Holy shit! No, not Pervus the Perv! You can't put me in that. Don't force me into that body! I'd be going from a perfect ten to a zero. Please! No... LET GO. Please, oh my God. No, I thought it would be another buff guy like me. I change my mind, I changed my mi--**UMPH HRRMPH**

It's not clear why Ryder objected so strongly to his partner. Maybe it was the shock of knowing who the doctor was from earlier in his life. At any rate, he paid the fee and signed the paperwork so there is, quite literally, no going back. Swaps of this nature are once in a lifetime and, of course, quite permanent.

Subject had to be forcibly gagged and sedated.

Add another $125,000 for the service. Ryder sure is going to pay a lot of money for his new life!

When he came to in the chamber, Ryder was pounding on the door. I think he was crying. His oversize genitalia were mashed against the glass in his silver pouch. It was quite the sight. When the whirr of the machine began and the paralyzing blue light hit, his eyes went crossed. He fell backwards and pumped his hips in the air. Well, the erection is to be expected. I've heard the process somewhat erotic, though painful.

It takes a couple days and the exchange unstable during that time, but I am happy to report the following:

Donor Report: I feel good. Very good. I'm probably going to move to SoCal, sort of take over Ryder's apartment. I'll probably start using his name now too. Don't wanna confuse people. I don't even have my old, perverted urges. I hope he's comfortable with the mental traits foisted on him. Oh... he wants to take picture of me? Ha, okay. I'll flex for $100. Recipient Report: What do you mean I can't go back *whimper* why do I feel so strange. I'm already out of breath. Give it back! What do you mean a name change is included in the package *sob* MY NAME IS PERVUS NOW??!?! Oh. I have to take his medical practice in my shithole hometown? Oh God! I just... oh goodness, seeing it from this angle it's such a fine body. So tight and firm! At least flex for me, my boy? A little. So I can snap a few pics and... use them later. Eehehe. Oh God, what have I become?

[crssvjb]

Moments -Sebastian Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x Senna!reader

Summary: Moments of your relationship with the pilot Sebastian.

Warnings: Mentions of Ayrton Senna here (not many). A little long.

The Encounter - 2008

The year was 2008, and the Formula 1 tracks were both a place of excitement and nostalgia for you. As the daughter of Ayrton Senna, the racing legend, the world of F1 has always been part of her life. Now, as a mechanical engineering student, you landed an internship at Toro Rosso, an opportunity that blended your passion for engineering with deep memories of your father.

One afternoon, in the Toro Rosso pits, while analyzing the car's data, the voice of Sebastian Vettel, a young German driver, interrupted his thoughts. – "These numbers always seem very complicated." – He said with a relaxed smile.

You turned around, surprised to see the pilot next to you. – "Well, to me, they tell fascinating stories." – You replied, smiling. The connection has been made. Sebastian, curious and respectful, began to ask questions about his father and the time when Senna dominated the tracks.

– "Ayrton Senna is a legend. What is most incredible about him that people don't know?"

You smiled, appreciating the sincerity of the question. – "In addition to his incredible driving skills, my father was driven by an intense passion for competition, but also by a deep respect for other competitors. He sought excellence, not just for himself, but to elevate the entire sport."

Sebastian, his eyes shining with interest, replied: – "It's incredible how he influenced Formula 1 and all of us. I'd love to hear more about him."

Between conversations about cars, racing and engines, you got closer and became friends. Sebastian, being a promising driver at the time, showed genuine interest in his passion for mechanical engineering. The bond between you grew, even when he left for the Red Bull team the following year.

The Invitation - 2009

In 2009, Red Bull Racing became the new stage for the emotions of Formula 1. Sebastian Vettel, now the team's driver, was conquering the world with his skill on the track. Still, you remained a constant part of his life, the connection growing with each run.

The day after the exciting race in Singapore, Sebastian invites you to a quiet dinner. The atmosphere is cozy, an elegant restaurant in the city. As you browse the menus, Sebastian smiles, looking straight into your eyes.

– “These moments on the track have been even better with you around.” - He says. – "And I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with me. Not as teammates, but as... something more."

Sebastian holds his hand, demonstrating the sincerity of his words. – "I really wish this was something beyond the track. What do you think?"

The sincerity in Sebastian's words is moving. You smile, feeling a rush of emotion. – "I would love to, Sebastian. It would be a pleasure."

The Instructor - 2010

The year was 2010 and the Formula 1 season was about to start. Red Bull's Sebastian Vettel had a bigger challenge ahead of him. And you? Well, you were about to embark on the journey of a lifetime. Red Bull Racing decided that you would be Sebastian's instructor for the season.

The days leading up to the start of the season were intense. You and Sebastian spent hours on the simulators, discussing strategies, adjusting technical details and analyzing each curve of the circuit. It was a perfect elaboration, where the pilot and the engineer shared ideas and experiences.

On a rainy afternoon at the Red Bull office, Sebastian looks at you with a smile. – "You really know what you're doing. It's amazing how everything makes more sense when explained by you."

You laugh, sharing your knowledge with passion. – "It's all about understanding the nuances, the details that can make a difference. And when you drive, these details become even more crucial."

The season begins and the races bring challenges and triumphs. In a memorable race, Sebastian achieves another podium at home. The atmosphere in the pits is electric, and after the team celebrates, they turn to you.

– “This is for us, for our partnership.” – says Sebastian, and before you know it, your lips meet in a passionate kiss, revealing to the world the connection that developed behind the scenes.

The news about you two spreads quickly through the media, but you face everything head on. At a press conference, Sebastian smiles for the cameras. – “Finding someone who shares the passion for the sport and understands the madness that is Formula 1 is rare. And I’m grateful to have her by my side.”

The coming months will be one of continued celebration. Wins on the track create a unique dynamic. The world championship is an achievement for both of them, and on the podium, after the last race of the season, Sebastian surprises everyone again by holding the trophy, looking at himself and saying: “This victory is ours.

Commitments - 2012

After an intense and exciting race, you and Sebastian return to the hotel tired, but radiant from the victories achieved on the track. The atmosphere is relaxed and intimate when you find yourself in the hotel suite, with the city lit up in the distance.

Already dressed casually, you snuggle into bed, sharing laughs and memories of the day. The city lights mix with the twinkle of the stars, creating a magical scene.

Sebastian, looking at you tenderly, comments: – "You know, today was a special day. Not just for the races, but for being together. I have something for you." – He gets up and takes something from the table next to the bed.

Upon returning, Sebastian holds a small box. His eyes light up as he opens the box, revealing the dazzling ring. – “From the moment we met on the slopes, my life changed, darling. It’s not just about running for me, it’s about the journey we’re building together.”

He looked into her eyes tenderly. – "I don't just want the races, I want all the twists and turns of life by your side. So, Y/N, will you agree to be mine forever?"

The moment for Y/N is as if she were participating in a romantic movie. Your romantic movie. The city lights, the few stars in the sky and Sebastian's request create an unforgettable scene.

You, excited, respond with a smile lighting up your face. – "Yes, Sebastian. I accept with all my heart."

He gently places the ring on your finger, a tangible symbol of your commitment. The cold ring is bright and contrasts with the warm exchange of glances between you. An enveloping hug follows, as if it were a seal that transcends words. The racing heart is the echo of the emotion shared in that intimate moment. Amid the silence of the hotel suite, the kiss that follows is soft but full of meaning.

Weddings and Achievements - 2013

In 2013, on July 13th, the wedding of Sebastian Vettel and S/N Senna was a great spectacle. The lush garden was adorned with a profusion of flowers, while the mountains in the background provided a picturesque backdrop. The golden early afternoon sun cast a magical light on the ceremony, where Sebastian anxiously awaited the arrival of his bride.

The bride, radiant in her wedding dress, walked towards the altar. Sebastian looked at her in awe, and when she finally reached his side, he whispered, "You look amazing." The words were soft, but they carried with them all the depth of the love they had built since that first conversation.

The ceremony was filled with personal vows, each word echoing the unique journey that brought them here. When it was time for the vows, Sebastian held Y/N's hands gently.

– "Y/N, since the moment you came into my life, everything has changed. You are not only my partner, but my light at all times. I promise to be your constant support, to love you on good days and bad, always ."

With tears in her eyes, Y/N replied: – “Sebastian, you are my passion and my calm. I promise to support your dreams, laugh with you in the joys and face the challenges together. ."

The kiss after the vows wasn't just a symbolic gesture; it was the confirmation of an eternal promise. Under the warm applause of the guests, the celebration continued in an atmosphere of joy and happiness.

The reception was a festival of colors, twinkling lights and carefully planned details. The party continued with dancing, laughter and unforgettable moments. Each reflected the couple's unique personality and the love that permeated their union.

In the privacy of Sebastian's three-time world champion's room, the trophies and photos that told the story of his victorious career were proof of his achievements not only on the track, but now also in his personal life. The wedding photo occupied a prominent place, symbolizing the harmony between professional and personal victories.

Life continued with travel, intimate moments and the making of memories that would become fundamental pillars of the journey together.

At the end of 2013 the Brazilian Grand Prix arrived and emotions were running high. Sebastian, determined and focused, aimed for his fourth world championship. The Interlagos tracks witnessed a spectacular performance, culminating in the victory of Sebastian Vettel, who became four-time world champion.

In the pits, the team celebrated and Y/N was there, proud and excited. Y/N, with a smile lighting up her face, approached him. – "You deserve it, love." – She said, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Thus, under the vibrant colors of Brazil, the couple celebrated not just a victory on the tracks, but the victory of a love that withstood all the curves and straights of life. Sebastian Vettel's fourth championship marked not only racing glory, but also the consolidation of an extraordinary journey, where love and success were intertwined in a unique and unforgettable narrative.

Family and New Challenges - 2015-2022

The years that followed marked an extraordinary journey for Sebastian Vettel and S/N Senna-Vettel, a path full of challenges. In 2015, Sebastian embraced Scuderia Ferrari, diving into a chapter full of promises and achievements.

The space dedicated to Sebastian achievements, where his shiny trophies are kept, but now also for children's laughter and colorful toys. Elias, the firstborn, was born in January 2016, filling the house with the sweet melody of a baby's cry and transforming the world bedroom into a haven of joy and life.

Antonella's arrival in May 2019 further expanded the Vettel family's horizons. The days were filled with laughter, games and the innocent wonder of children discovering the world. The pantry room, where all the trophies are kept, now decorated with drawings and children's toys, has become a microcosm of family love.

At the end of the 2021 season, where Sebastian was at the Aston Martin team, he decided to retire and had Y/N's full support.

On a calm day, Sebastian and Y/N found a moment for a serious conversation about the future, sitting in the world room. Looking at the trophies that told the story of his victories, Sebastian began, "I think it's time for a change, Y/N. I've decided to retire at the end of this season."

Y/N looked at him surprised and, at the same time, understanding. – "Sebastian, this is serious. Are you sure this is the right time?"

Sebastian held her hand tenderly. – "Yes, I'm sure. I want to be more present for you, for Elias and Antonella. Every time I get home it seems like they grow another 5 centimeters. Life is more than tracks and races."

Y/N, despite her surprise, smiled, feeling the warmth of her decision. – "I understand. We will be by your side no matter what."

The last Grand Prix - 2022

The final Grand Prix of the 2022 season was a bittersweet spectacle. In the Aston Martin pits, the atmosphere was charged with emotion as the Vettel family gathered to support Sebastian in his final race. Watching the race, Y/N got emotional.

Six-year-old Elias watched beside her, with a mixture of curiosity and understanding beyond his years. 3-year-old Antonella was excited, fascinated by the colorful cars on the screen.

When the race ended and Sebastian crossed the finish line for the last time, Y/N was emotional and proud. As they approached the pits, he affectionately joked: – “You are sadder than me, because I am retiring”.

Y/N laughed, wiping away a furtive tear. – “It’s hard not to get emotional, Sebastian. There were so many achievements, so many laps together.”

Sebastian hugged her, looking at Elias and Antonella. – "You saw daddy run, didn't you?"

Elias, his eyes shining, nodded. – “It was incredible, daddy!”

Antonella, in her enthusiastic way, exclaimed: – “I want to run too!”

Sebastian laughed, taking her in his arms. – "Who knows, little one. Life is full of surprises."

⎊𝙘𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙫𝙟𝙗 - ²⁰²⁴

[transbutchblues]

could you please elaborate on your feelings on the gods' characterization in the wisdom saga? Not forcing you tho!

sure! keep in mind that i love EPIC and that even if i complain about things here, i totally respect the choices that Jorge makes. it’s his musical and i admire all the work put in the songs.

disclaimer : most of the time i try to dissociate EPIC from the Odyssey in my mind, because thinking of EPIC as an adaptation tends to make me upset due to how different it is. but it’s also amazing on its own! there are creative liberties that i deeply love (like having Odysseus know about Scylla but not telling anyone, and changing the context of the mutiny), others that i don’t like that much but that i can get behind, and others that i really dislike. i understand why everything is done the way it’s done, but i still have opinions.

before talking about the Wisdom Saga i’d like to explain how i felt about the gods in the other sagas. as a classics student and a hellenic polytheist i tend to dislike most modern portrayals of the gods, mostly because they’re usually flat and lack nuance. up until this saga, i had never been disappointed by any choice done regarding the gods in EPIC. they were all so interesting.

i loved Zeus in Thunder Bringer. it’s one of my favorite songs, and i found that Zeus was beautifully portrayed. he’s the villain, sure, he offers an awful choice (for the second time), but the situation was created by Odysseus and his men. i loved the lyrics and their double meaning.

this all fell apart in God Games, for me. it just didn’t feel like the same Zeus anymore. and as much as i try to dissociate EPIC from Homer’s epics, i love the Iliad and the Odyssey too much not to point out that Zeus would never be like that. in the Odyssey, Zeus immediately agrees with Athena on the fact that Odysseus must be freed from Calypso’s island. Poseidon is the only god who really wants to stop Odysseus, Zeus doesn’t exactly care about him. he knows Odysseus’ fate and he won’t go against it. besides, Athena is Zeus’ favorite daughter in Homer’s works. he loves her. he doesn’t like it when she defies her, that’s very clear in the Iliad, he even threatens her when she does that, but he loves her dearly and he gives her nearly everything she asks for. he would simply not strike her down like that. and Zeus has no reason to go against his own word. if he sets a challenge, he respects the terms. he’s a fair god, he’s a ruler, he’s all about divine justice. i don’t mind changes, but i dislike these ones.

and Athena… Athena was always the deity i felt the less sure about in EPIC. don’t get me wrong, i love her in the previous songs. but i never knew where exactly her character arc would bring her and i felt uneasy. now i know i was right to feel this way.

there had to be an explanation to the fact that Athena hadn’t helped Odysseus during the years he was imprisoned by Calypso. i understand why in EPIC, this explanation is that Odysseus and Athena fought and fell apart. in fact, i love My Goodbye. i think the way Odysseus is portrayed in the Cyclops Saga makes him way more of an asshole than he is in the Odyssey (and that’s alright by me!), because he’s stupid and hubristic and he refuses to listen to Athena. in the Odyssey, Athena never abandons Odysseus, she helps him during his entire journey. but if he had talked to her like he does in EPIC, she probably would have left him! i find their fight interesting, how cold Athena can be, how betrayed they both feel.

but! here comes the Wisdom Saga. and i love Athena in Little Wolf. i like her in God Games too. maybe even in Love in Paradise. but i can’t get over We’ll Be Fine, it just doesn’t sound right to me. i like Telemachus. but i hate that this is how Athena suddenly decides to go back to Odysseus. "i could sleep at night", really? why would she feel guilty about leaving a hero who refused to listen to her? i enjoyed how cold she was in My Goodbye, it was an interesting choice, and i would have liked for her to remain this way. or to change more slowly. the loneliness aspect could have been great if it had been explored more in depth (which i know wouldn’t have been possible since she doesn’t have enough songs to allow for slow character development). this just felt rushed and strange.

i would have liked for Athena not to reach out until Odysseus does. the moment where he cries out her name at the end of Love in Paradise is heart-wrenching, i love it. that’s when i would have loved for her to suddenly hear him and go back to him, instead of already being there. that would have been a moment where she could have decided to help him despite what he said and did, because she still cares about him and she sees him being so desperate. that could have been a moment where she feels guilty or lonely.

i know it’s done that way so that Telemachus saves Odysseus’ life by giving advice to Athena. it’s fine, it’s a nice idea. i understand why people like it, and i’m glad they do. it just feels off to me.

regarding the other gods: firstly, Calypso is great and i love her! now, on the other ones: i think instead of all this weird Zeus portrayal in God Games, it would have been nice to mention Poseidon. if there had to be a reason for Zeus not to want to release Odysseus, it could have been something to do with his brother. Apollo’s appearance felt unnecessary, his argument was weak, i’m still glad he was there but i didn’t love his portrayal. my opinion for Hephaestus is similar (though i liked his portrayal better, he just felt unnecessary), with another thought: i’m already starting to see more art of him and i really wish people would depict him as disabled, because not everybody does. i liked Aphrodite’s and Ares’ part, and Hera’s was fun. i don’t necessarily like the overall vibes of God Games but that’s just a matter of my music tastes, there are multiple songs in EPIC that i don’t really listen to because of that while still enjoying their role in the storyline.

obviously most people disagree with me, and i’m glad everyone seems to love that saga. some parts were just really not for me, namely, We’ll Be Fine, the beginning of Love in Paradise, and the end of God Games.