#also i just. cut off the first syllable of what we have to call the conductor to make it uh

[minihotdog]

Schoolboy Crush

Part 2 / Part 1

Pairing: Ghost x fem!reader

Summary: Ghost finally puts the moves on

a/n: ahhhhhh idk what I'm doing. maybe part 3 if I have a vision and I'd want it to be more his POV unlike this one.

C/W: Risk of being caught, Some NSFW actions, Ghost kinda being creepy-ish but also an ass?edging? idk I just work here

Word Count: 14k

The gathering was in full swing, the flat buzzing with talk of the up coming game. Price, like the dad he was, was out grilling hamburgers and sharing a beer with Gaz. Soap was helping you organize the various foods and deserts on the small round dining table until he heard Price call out something along the lines of “You Manchester lot” and ran out to defend his football team from the two giggling men.

You didn’t see Ghost when you entered the flat, assuming he was out on the balcony. The thought of him made your hands start to clam up and you wanted to relax before greeting the menacing man. He was confident, on the off chance he spoke, sometimes would even come off cocky.

At times, his presence was too overbearing. His deadly gaze paired with his sheer size, it made you feel a mix of fear and need. You’d see him walking around the compound with his muscles stretching the material of his T-shirts as everyone scrambled to get out of his way. And to make it worse, when he would speak, his voice would leave your panties sticking to you while you hung on to every word.

“Hello, pet.”

You jump, clutching your chest. Ghost chuckles at your reaction, standing only a foot away from you.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, love.” 

His deep, gravelly voice sends a shiver down your spine. You lift your head to meet his gaze, pulling your long sleeves over your hands in an act of nervousness, which he finds adorable. You’d only seen him with his face completely covered but there he stood bare-faced. You’d imagined what he looked like a million times. 

He was blond, his typical military cut overgrown, touching his ears, the top now curling over one of his eyebrows. The bridge of his nose carried a scar from one side to the other, along with a light scar running down through his eyebrow just below his eye.

“Ghost-” You sigh in relief only for it to disappear once you realize that the two of you were alone together for the first time. He was a handsome man but the natural intimidation he carried didn’t help with the way your heart pounded when he was nearby.

“Simon.” He corrects “We aren't at work.”

“Right, sorry…”

He was giddy on the inside. His callsign was essentially his one and only name from how often he’d heard it. But he needed to hear his name fall from your lips. And it fell so sweetly.

You glance around trying to think of something to break the tension. 

“Simon, would you like some pie?” You mentally kick yourself, realizing that the food hadn’t even been served yet.

Ghost on the other hand didn’t care. He hadn’t heard his name spoken with such a honeyed tone since he was a small child. It stirred something inside of him, leading him to wonder what the two syllables would taste like coming from your pink lips as he tormented your small body with the brutal pace of his hips against the backs of your thighs. He’d bruise your waist with the death grip he’d have on you to keep you from squirming away from him.

He watches you bite your bottom lip nervously when he takes a second too long to respond. He steps closer to you, ignoring the question. You instinctively step backward, hitting the table behind you. The smell of his rich cologne clouds your senses and you try to discreetly press your thighs together to quell the fire rising inside of you. 

There you stood trapped between a table and the brick wall of a man in front of you. His hand grazes your exposed thigh, slightly lifting your skirt. Your eyes trail down to his lips, his smugness displayed in a smirk. He raises your chin with his left hand and your eyes dart up to his. His deep blue eyes, usually dark and hidden under his brow, were now clouded with hunger, leaving you feeling as if he was a predator finally having caught his prey.

“Don’t try and run from me, pet.”

He growls lowly, and you feel the vibrations when his chest lightly bumps into yours. He places his large hand on your thigh, gently squeezing the plump flesh before moving under your skirt.  His touch sets you ablaze. Your hands grip onto his biceps when cups your womanhood and his thumb grazes your clit. Your breath catches in your throat. The corner of his eyes crinkles slightly when you glance at the door. The voices of his teammates still bleeding through the slight crack.

His hand leaves your chin and tangles itself in your hair. He passes over the bundle of nerves a couple more times until your hips, against your will, twitch into his hand. He coos at you condescendingly, “Oh you poor thing, you want me to play with that sweet little pussy of yours?” You whimper at him and his jaw tightens at the lovely sound. He nuzzles your neck with his nose before leaving wet kisses along your jaw.

His thumb begins leaving circles on your clit and your grip on him tightens. His hot breath rolls over you and he nips your skin.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet.” His words cause you to clench around nothing. Your soft whimpers leave him salivating. He firmly grasps a handful of your curls and forces your ear to his lips.

“What would everyone think if they caught you with my hand up your skirt playing with your little pussy, huh?”

“S-Simon,” You breathe out.

“I think it’s time I show everyone who you belong to.” His growl makes you feel even smaller in his hold.

He releases the grip on your hair and pulls the collar of your shirt just enough to expose your shoulder. His thumb swipes your clit in an up-and-down motion. You moan softly feeling his tongue drag from your jaw to the newly exposed skin. Without warning he sinks his teeth into your shoulder forcing a yelp to leave your lips. Your body stiffens at the pain. He shooshes you, soothing the now red skin with his tongue.

He pulls your collar back to its place and rests his forehead against yours. His fingers push your panties to the side and his middle finger runs up your slit. 

You try and push him back when the voices outside become clearer but he doesn’t budge. He plunges his middle finger inside you. Your eyes shut and you bite down on your lip to keep quiet like he told you. 

“Tight little thing you are,” He nearly moans. “Bet you’d be a mess with only two of my fingers in you.” You attempt to stifle your moans with his lips when he starts sliding his finger in and out of you but he pulls back. 

“Tsk, tsk. So needy.” He teases you, curling his finger. Him tapping that precious spot has you digging your nails into his tattooed skin and your head falling onto his shoulder. His scent paired with his actions almost send you over the edge. He gives you a few more pumps before his hand abandons your needy cunt and he pulls you against him by your waist. Your breaths ragged, face heated from his antics.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you, pet.” He chuckles to himself, pulling away from you as he sucks your essence off his digit. You shutter at the vulgar sight.

Soap's voice becomes clearer and you scramble to fix your skirt and attempt to revitalize your ravaged curls before the balcony door swings open. Ghost leans against the counter already beer in hand, popping the cap off with his teeth.

“Game’s aboot tae start and I’m already ragin’!” Laughter emerges from behind the door. Soap stops in his tracks when he sees you in your disheveled state. He knows better than to say anything, but a suspicious look replaces his scowl. “Ye gonna join us?”

“In a moment,” You force a smile and he saunters off to the couch facing away from the kitchen. Ghost sips his beer unfazed by the intrusion. He leaves you behind not giving you a second look. You stand there bewildered, wondering if you imagined the events that just took place. 

Soap elbowed the man now sitting next to him, shooting him a look. 

Before you had arrived Ghost had asked him what he should do. It had been a long time since he tried to court a woman and his days of having flings were long gone as he felt more disconnected from what he’d consider “normal people”.

“Ah don’ know wha’ ye should do. Just don’ shag her in ma house.” The Scot said with a goofy smile. “At long last, LT is gonna bag some. Ah cannae believe it!”

“Fuckin’ hell...”

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #25] January

warnings: we get jaykay in his student era!!! poor baby is STRESSED!! very wholesome!! b makes him pasta, very lovely <33 until very suddenly it's not!! fingering, mentions of the erotic accordion, lots of teasing. a personal fave!!

wc: 12.5k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

It's a pleasant surprise to see Kim Taehyung with his clothes on. 

His cheeks are still a little warm when he strolls into the art cafe, well aware that it was his other cheeks you'd been confronted with when you'd seen him last.

Hands in pockets, he plays it off. Is cool and casual, in that suave way artists so often are.

"If you're looking for Danbi, we only live together. Don't work together. Think you'll find her at Memorial Park with half a dozen dogs, maybe" you tease.

He rolls his eyes, and continues forward to the main desk. When he reaches it, he leans an elbow down and looks quite at home. Dressed in a pair of dark slacks and cream button-up, he's a business-casual Capricorn's wet dream. It's entirely understandable why Danbi couldn't resist. You're surprised it's taken her this long, if anything.

"If it was Danbi I was after, it'd be Danbi I was with," he assures you, smile ever-present. He's charming; not like a sleazebag, but like a Disney prince. Always says the right thing. "And anyways, I know she's there. Just been there, myself."

You smile, pleased for your best friend.

It makes sense. She's been with him every night since New Year's. Your apartment has actually been a little lonely.

A week on since you were greeted with his bare arse, you're curious as to why Taehyung would be gracing you with his presence. It wouldn't be entirely out of character, but you are also aware that the last time he was here, it was to pitch his art show.

You remind him of this - not that he needs it, as he passes a business card over to you, embossed with a since hangul syllable: 류.

"Ryu?" You ask. "As in the gallery?"

He nods. "Ryu Gallery."

It's mid-size, a little out of town, but well-respected. Was one of the many galleries that simply didn't get back to Tae - but you have an acquaintance who works there. A friend of Seokjin's, actually. Involved in the finance side of the company. Had invited him along because you figured that there was no harm in asking. Didn't really expect him to show up.

Pulling his phone from his front pocket, Taehyung says nothing as he loads up his call history. At the top, there's a red number - one missed call - and a small play button next to what you assume is a voicemail. He presses down on it, and lets it play out.

"Hello, this is Park Shinwon from Ryu Gallery. I was passed your information by one of our colleagues, and was wondering if you had availability for a call regarding your work? We have an opening at the end of the month and are looking for a local artist to fill the space. If you think this could be a good fit for you, please call me back at the earlie-"

Taehyung cuts the voicemail short. You've heard all the important stuff.

There's a smile on your face; one that brewed gently as the memo played out. He'd done it. The write-ups and reviews had been fantastic, and Namjoon had helped get Taehyung a decent spot in the arts & culture section of the local paper, but this is the first solid indication that the show had been prosperous.

"Holy shit," you beam, clapping your hands together in tiny little pats of joy.

"Right?!" He beams right back. Phone locked and back in his pocket, Taehyung's never looked prouder of himself. You don't know him like you know Jimin or Jeongguk, but you know him well enough to understand how huge this is for him. "I can't even begin to thank yo-"

"No!" You laugh, reaching across the counter to squeeze his arm. "Don't you dare. It was your hard work, Tae. You did this! Congratulations!"

A little bashful in the way he looks down, it's clear that he's not used to such high praise. It's something he'll have to get used to, you think. This is just the start for him. He's destined for greats, you're sure of it - but then again, you have unwavering faith in everyone you care about. You'll manifest for them; will their dreams into reality. You're not sure if it works, but it's nice to think it does.

"Did you call back? What did you say?" You enthuse, before a couple comes to the counter with their finished artwork. Gritting your teeth, you cast Taehyung an apologetic smile. "Ah, just give me a moment."

He nods, and tells you to carry on. He knows he's interrupted you at work and feels bad for it. He could have just waited until he came around that evening (Danbi had already asked if he would), but was too nervous about the call.

When you return from packing up the canvases and ringing through the bill, he admits to it.

"Haven't actually called them yet," he grits his teeth together, eyes apologetic. "Didn't know what to say. It's kinda why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"You can say no," he prefaces, "but like... I don't know the first fucking thing about the suit side of the art world. Don't know how to negotiate, don't even know if that is something I need to be doing. I'm a fish out of water. and you're the only person I know - and trust - who seems to have any clue what they're doing."

It's really sweet that he thinks you have any idea at all. You just wing it a solid seventy percent of the time. You have connections, and you have a functioning brain. That's about it.

Still, you'll let him think that you have your wits about you.

"So..." you encourage, trying to coax a proper question out of him. You know what he's asking, but really think that all of Jeongguk's ragtag bunch of friends could do with learning how to ask for what they want. Maybe not Yoongi. He seems to have shit figured out.

"So..." Taehyung imitates, a friendly grin on his face. He's pretty. Really isn't hard to see why Danbi likes him. She's always gone for the artsy types. Likes to be a muse. "I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? Sort of like an agent, but not quite, 'cause I'm poor as fuck and definitely can't afford it."

"Agents work on commission," you tell him. "Or at least some of them do, so it doesn't matter that you're poor now."

"Well, I might never be rich," he warns you.

Taehyung believes in his work. Loves his work. Is yet to have success that reflects this. Other people don't seem to feel as strongly about it, which leaves him with lingering doubt as to whether or not he actually has something , or if it's all a bit of a vanity project. He hopes it's not. Knows that Rome wasn't built in a day, mind you.

It takes dedication. A hard grind. He's got grit and determination, but the doors he's knocked at have been double-bolted. Thinks that maybe you could give him a key.

"I doubt that very much," you say regarding his doubts. 

Of all the work showcased at the last show, it was his pieces that people kept coming back to. His pieces tagged in the art cafe's Instagram by customers. His pieces that sold; that got people interested. You had even had a girl in the cafe on a date a few weeks ago, who painted a replica of one of Tae's prints, which had been hanging on the wall beside her.

He's got talent.

But he knows that's not enough.

"Still, I didn't even realise agents were paid that way. I've no idea what on earth I'm doing, Disco Ball. Not really."

You take a moment to consider the proposition, but you aren't sure why. It's a no-brainer. Of course you'll help him out. You've contacts, thanks to your job, and acquaintances with money to spend thanks to Seokjin. You'll be an invaluable resource for him - and he'd much rather have a friend leading him through this unchartered territory than someone who only cares about numbers and finances.

"I'll make you a deal," you offer. "I'll help you, free of charge, but on one condition."

"Go on..."

You beam; smile so sweet that Taehyung knows your compromise is probably unconventional.

"I get a Kim Taehyung original."

"It won't be worth anything," he laughs. "It's a rotten deal."

"Not yet, maybe, but it will be," you tell him.

Much like Jeongguk's dreams, you believe in Taehyung's, too. Have no doubt he will achieve success. He's a Capricorn. Is just what they do.

"Alright," he agrees. Holds out his hand for you to shake. "I'll give you a free commission. You can redeem it at any time. Anything, any size, doesn't matter. It's yours."

He makes a mental note to revise this deal as you shake his hand. Doesn't think it's entirely fair on you. Thinks that he's benefitting far more from this than you will - but good, original artworks within your budget are hard to come by. You know your future self will thank you for this.

You tell Taehyung to arrange a meeting with the consultant at Ryu Gallery. 

"I'll go with you as a representative; will ask the right questions, stuff like that. The key here is to not sell yourself short or undervalue your work. If you sell a million-dollar piece for a hundred bucks, it'll set a precedent. People will take advantage. It'll be detrimental."

He nods, eager to learn. Willing to listen. Wants to succeed, and will do all he can to make sure it happens.

Departing only after you force him to call Ryu Gallery back and set a date in the calendar for next week, Taehyung is beyond appreciative. Both Danbi and Jeongguk had told him to reach out to you again, but he'd felt a little guilty, almost as if he was taking advantage of how charitable you are.

You don't really see it that way. Figure that if the roles were reversed, he'd do the same for you.

"Oh, just quickly!" Taehyung pipes up just as he reaches the door of the cafe. "The piece up in Jeongguk's living room - the black and gold one." Your face heats up. "Who's the artist?"

"Not sure," you shrug with an inconspicuous purse of your lips. "Why?"

"Jeongguk just said he got it from here," Taehyung explains, your cheeks only getting rosier and rosier. "I really like it so just wondered if it was part of a bigger collection."

"I can check," you say, knowing that there is absolutely no way you're ever gonna produce another one of those. Now that Tae's asking questions about it, you know Jeongguk needs to squirrel it away. The last thing you want is the truth coming out.

"Amazing," he beams.

You smile right back, but let it fade into a groan as he heads down the stairs, the realisation that he's seen the imprint of your tits leaving you mortified.

It's only fair though, you suppose. You have seen his arse, after all. Maybe you are more well acquainted than you realise.

The lives that you and Jeongguk had lived separately for many moons have somehow converged, meeting a diving point of intervention; as if you were meant to live your lives exactly as you have, just for moments like these.

This is only amplified when you arrive at Jeongguk's place after your shift finishes.

On New Year's day, after the creation of his sticky note shrine, origami birds watching proudly, you'd reached an agreement with Jeongguk: each and every one of the sticky notes have to be done by the end of the year.

"What about the birds?" Jeongguk had asked, not wanting to sacrifice them.

You both know the birds hold far more weight. The sticky notes are fun; a chance to experiment freely with somebody who is on the same page as you. The birds are all about preparing yourself to turn the page, so you can meet someone willing to start a new book with you.

Curled up in his bed, while Jeongguk had been sitting on his bedroom floor putting together a display box for a new 'sculpture' (because he refuses, still, to let you call them action figures) that he'd been gifted for Christmas, you had contemplated his question.

"The birds fall naturally," you'd hummed. "They drop when the universe needs them to. The sticky notes are deliberate. We're making the active choice to do them."

Cross-legged, Jeongguk reached over to get a small screwdriver from his bedside table. Your gaze had been up on the birds, but drifted down to him.

"So we'll make the active choice to do the sticky notes, and then just do the birds when they fall?" Jeongguk had clarified, not looking at you as he threaded a small screw into its hole.

"Yeah," you'd smiled. "Like, I come round once a week, and we get a sticky note done. Something like that."

Looking up at you now, Jeongguk had tilted his head in contemplation, pursing his lips before finally nodding. "Shall we say Sundays?"

With a slight sense of trepidation, but the awareness of this being good for you both, you had nodded. "Sundays. Trial it for the month of January. See how it goes."

And so now you're at Jeongguk's place for the first time since New Year's with a clear agenda - and yet all you really want to do is hang out with him. Innocently. Platonically.

"Oh thank God," Jimin breathes out with an overdramatic sigh of relief when he opens the door for you. Shoes on, jacket slung over his shoulders, he's been waiting on your arrival. "Jeongguk- '' he calls back into the darkness. None of the living area lamps are on, the city lights illuminating their apartment instead. "The babysitter is here! I'll be gone till morning. Don't be any trouble."

You roll your eyes, flicking his arm as you step past him into the apartment.

He's heading out for a family event down in Busan. Jeongguk had been intending on going to the city with him, but simply has too much school work to do.

Finals are coming up. He's stressed to the absolute high heavens.

"I will warn you," Jimin says quietly while you take off your shoes. "He's in a foul mood. Has been for, like, three days now. Think it's his time of the month."

"Still baffles me how you're able to pull," you mutter, knowing that any explanations on the intricacies of the menstrual cycle would be wasted on him - only for Jimin to remind you that he pulled you . "Was a moment of weakness," you assure him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say DB," he grins. "Look after him alright? Make sure he eats his veggies and brushes his teeth before bed."

Jimin departs faster than the winter wind that's howling against their windows. You don't even have a chance to question why he's treating Jeongguk like such a child - but as you walk into his bedroom, you sort of see why.

His bed's unmade, and he hasn't showered since, like, Thursday, maybe. Papers are scattered all over his desk, and there's a collection of takeout boxes by his door. The birds that were on his desk are now perched up on the shelf, laying in the middle of his chessboard. Beside them, a pot of your misplaced glitter sparkles in the dim light.

Quite unlike himself, Jeongguk's jaw looks sharper but his cheeks are bloated. You can tell he hasn't been eating nor drinking enough. Has a can of Monster on his desk, but you both know it's not enough to sustain him.

He really does look like a university student now, more than he ever has done before. Glasses on, hair tied in a tiny bun by the nape of his neck, teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip, the stress is evident in his sloped posture.

"Don't look at the mess," he mumbles, embarrassed that you have to see his room in this state, but also too preoccupied to really care.

You meander to his bed and sit down, one leg crossed beneath the other. Smile. "Too late."

"Sorry," he offers, but you shake your head - not that he's looking at you.

"S'fine," you hum. "If tonight is bad for you, we can always resched-"

"No," he says rather sharply, finally turning to look at you. His eyes are all wide and wanting, hating the idea of you leaving so soon, but they're also tired . He needs rest. "No, sorry." He puts down his pen, and turns in his chair a little. "I'm probably gonna be shitty company, but I'd like you to stay."

And so you nod. Of course you'll stay.

"Your hair looks sweet like this," you muse a little mindlessly as you come to stand by him, letting your index finger twirl in the curl that sticks out from the small bun.

His hair is always silky smooth, and you're envious of how well-nourished it is. A little curly, he definitely visits the salon every once in a while. You find it all very endearing, imagining him with a little salon cape around his shoulders, protectors over his ears, curlers in his hair.

"Needs a wash," he simply states, not wanting to dwell on the compliment that makes his tummy feel all funny. He's not really used to such delicate compliments.

Jiyeong would always comment on his physical strength, manliness, shit like that. Hardly surprising, given that she works at the gym. It's not just her though - Hayun's favourite part of him was always his upper arms.

He's no idea what you like about him. What attracts you to him - 'cause as much as you both like to pretend you're a bit repulsed by one another, there's obviously gotta be some sort of mutual attraction. The sex is too good.

Unless, he considers, it's all just chemical. Hormonal shit he doesn't understand, but knows plays an important role in chemistry. Maybe you aren't physically attracted to him at all.

"Wish my hair looked that good when it needs a wash," you sigh.

"I've never seen it look bad," he says, not thinking much of it.

"Well, I'd hope not," you smile. "I do know how to shower."

"I've got some things just to finish up - shit ," he curses as he realises just how much of a mess his room is. "I'm sorry. Been at work today, haven't you? Can grab a shower if you like, or something while I do this."

'This' is test revision. Coursework never really stresses him out, even if he does leave it until the last minute. He has more control over the variables. Exams make him nervous, and if there's one feeling Jeongguk hates, it's nervousness. Figures if he studies and studies and studies, then he'll feel prepared, and the nerves will ease. It never works. Only ever makes it worse.

"You sure?" you ask, though if you're being honest, a shower right now would be ideal. You got paint all over you at work, and while most of it washed off in the sink, you still feel a little less than fresh. "Or is this some backhanded way of telling me my hair looks shit?"

"Oh, 100%. You look awful. But also, yes. I'm sure," he smiles, soft eyes patient as he tries to push the pressure of his studies to the back of his mind. He hasn't seen you all week. Has missed you. Is glad you're here. Kinda hates that he's telling you to leave him, already, even if it's only for twenty minutes or so.

"Gonna join?" You ask, not really thinking much of it. Just a habit, now.

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Will get one later."

There are two distinct halves to Jeongguk's fear of rejection. The obvious, most notable half is the part of him that hates the feeling of being rejected, which prevents him from asking for what he wants. 

Far less discussed is the part of him that feels like he always has to say yes, because he doesn't ever want to make other people feel bad.

Just like he never fears rejection from you, he doesn't fear your reaction to his rejection, either. There's a stable foundation to your friendship. It's good for him.

So used to transactional relationships with the girls he's slept with - on their part, not his - he doesn't really realise that this - what you two have - is normal. It's how it should be.

And so when you smile, and say 'okay', Jeongguk almost expects you to start fighting with him.

It's been a few days since he spoke with Jiyeong ( where it was firmly established that she ended it with him, and that he was the problem, not her) but lingering patterns of behaviour still plague his mind. Feelings of failure still reside in the part of his brain that deals with desire.

You believe him when he says he won't join. Don't try and tempt. Tonight isn't about that - though you do glance over to the myriad of sticky notes on his bedroom wall before you grab his towel. Pay no notice to the fact there's a new one. Just as fluffy - exactly the same, you think - it's still wrapped in a sleek bow with the tag on it.

Maybe he's gotten annoyed with how often you use it. Maybe you're just such a permanent fixture that two seems like a good idea. You don't ask about it.

Instead, you also grab one of his shirts - the one with his hand prints on it. Paint markers have been taken to the shirts since, now outlining where his bones would be. The skeleton hands make you laugh - but they also get you thinking about that shower with him.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you leave Jeongguk to get on with his studies.

As you start the shower up and relieve your hair from the claw clip it's up in, you aren't too concerned with him joining. You genuinely do want to shower. Leave the door open just in case, but don't wait for him like you did the last time you were in the same position.

It turns out showers are far quicker when you're solo. You leave it without the feel of his hands on your body, but the scent of his strawberry shower gel still stains your skin. Feels like you're perpetually covered in him, in a roundabout way.

Scrunching your hair with his towel as you head back into his room, your clothes are still in a pile on his bathroom floor. You're just in the shirt now, bra foregone, underwear on to maintain some kind of decency.

You don't really greet him, instead heading to the window to take in the view. You're always envious of the skyline. It makes you consider moving closer to the inner city - but you're quite comfortable in your low-rise with Danbi. Plus, you can always just come and hang out here if you find yourself missing it.

Jeongguk says nothing as he comes to stand in behind you; personal space void of any meaning between the pair of you. Chin resting on your head, he drapes his arms over your shoulders.

You whisper a small greeting, and he whispers one back, but neither of you make conversation. Instead, you just watch the traffic roll on by. 

His eyes are down by the traffic lights, watching as a small crowd forms, a red light preventing them from crossing even though the road is clear. Yours are a little higher up, on the motel that is hidden between two skyscrapers. The curtains are mostly all drawn; save for one, where a couple stands in a position hauntingly similar to yours and Jeongguk's. They're smiling. Joking about something. Enjoying one another company - until the person standing in Jeongguk's position draws the curtain shut to keep the world at bay.

Maybe they're friends, too, you hypothesize - but friends don't book in love motels together, and if they do? Well, they certainly don't look like that together.

It's not like it's a new concept to you. You understand the conventions of couples; just think that maybe the line between romantic and platonic is far finer than you previously believed. Reckon that you and Jeongguk have a clear sense of it.

Turning in your spot, you wanna get a read on his face; see if you can gauge what he's thinking, what he's feeling. He doesn't move back as you turn. Stays in position. Doesn't mind the closeness.

Just an inch or so away from you, the proximity forces you to tilt your chin upwards in order to catch his gaze. His own chin is tipped to his chest, looking down at you in the gentlest of ways.

Storm clouds of mascara rest faintly beneath your lash line, and the occasional rivulet of water trails from your hair and down your skin like spring rain. Your typically tempestuous attitude is nowhere to be seen; docile in the calm of Jeongguk's mellow summer air.

Silent as the pads of his fingers stroke down the side of your neck, you're well aware of the fact you're not really breathing. Are too consumed by trepidation. Fearful and yet hopeful of what's to come. His firmly pouted lips part slowly - but he doesn't lean down.

Instead, his fingertips hook beneath the chain around your neck, and slowly begin to twist it back into position. The clasp had fallen to the front, excess chain tangling around the charm.

Jeongguk holds the dainty silver bird where it should be, between your collarbones, his touch feathery as he preens you.

Cautious and yet entirely confident, he doesn't mean to steal your breath - but it's only fair. You took his first.

His lip purse. Fold in on themselves. Lip ring does the thing. Adam's apple bobs as he swallows back a feeling he doesn't quite know what to make of.

And then he simply nods. Steps a little further back. Smiles. "There. Much better."

A discreet smile ghosts your lips as he turns away from you to get back to his work. Revision always gets him in this weird of constant contempt; stressed at the world around him even when he needn't be. Gets him antsy. Agitated.

His stress manifests in hunched shoulders and restless legs which jitter beneath his desk.

He tries to ignore the twinge of guilt in his chest as you leave the room without a word. Knows that he must be terrible company. Wonders why he can't just express himself normally.

Contrarily, you worry that Jeongguk just wants to be alone, and that your presence is overbearing. He could have cancelled plans if he wanted to. You wouldn't have minded. Sure, you've missed hanging out with him, but it's not the end of the world. Is probably good to have a little bit of a breather from one another every now and again.

Fixated on the fact you feel like a bother, you set about making yourself useful. He looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in a good while, and the boys keep their fridge remarkably well-stocked for a couple of bachelors with a penchant for nightlife.

Jeongguk listens out for you, still doing his work. Can hear you rummaging about in the fridge, and wonders what on earth you could be doing. Figured that the pair of you would just order in, or something like that.

Truthfully, you'd thought the same - but they've got a stockpile of tomatoes, and chicken that needs using. Without Danbi at home much this week, you've overindulged in take-out and snack foods a few too many times. You need a good meal just as much as he does. 

Glancing over to the hob, you check the pasta in the glass jar next to Jeongguk's chopping board. They're out of spaghetti, save for maybe ten strands, but thankfully have a full jar of rigatoni.

You know you can thank Jimin for the decanted pasta. The more you learn about him, the more you understand why his bedroom is so bare despite his job. He calls it 'intuitive interior design' - making life easy for himself through deliberate choices. It's why his bedroom is so streamlined. Less clutter means he can reset his brain more easily.

The living space is where the colour of the apartment is - Tae's paintings, photobooth strips, feather boas stolen from Dionysus - but the kitchen is laid out in a way that makes things easy for both of the boys.

You set about getting the things you might need, not really caring to ask Jeongguk's permission. Whatever you use, you'll happily buy again in the morning, but also highly doubt he'll ask you to. At least this way, he won't have to waste perfectly good ingredients on account of them rotting away in the bottom of the fridge.

You're chopping the tomatoes by the time Jeongguk comes to stand in his doorway. 

Leaning against the frame, a hand in his pocket, a soft smile on his lips, he's a little confused. Just watches as domestication becomes you; stars forming on your cheeks when the low glare of the overhead lights hits you just right. Hair still a little damp, it's up with a claw clip, small strands framing your face. You've the speaker on quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Some song he doesn't know by an artist he doesn't recognise plays. All he knows is that he likes it. Likes how comfortable this feels.

Jeongguk has missed you. Has been working to the point of exhaustion, but unable to sleep whenever he goes to bed. Looking at you now, he tries to stifle a yawn. Is glad you haven't noticed his presence, 'cause he knows the face he just pulled wasn't pretty.

But he thinks you are.

The fact he feels like he could sleep now? A curse, he decides. Doesn't wanna sleep. Wants to spend all evening catching up with you.

You're using the side of the knife to gather the chopped tomatoes together, and scooping them into a bowl, when you finally notice him.

"Hey," you say, a smile present as always. Such a simple word, but such a comforting one, too.

"Hey," he smiles back. "Watcha doin', B?"

"Baking a cake," you joke as you begin to peel some garlic from a bulb.

"Mhmm? Tomato cake," he says, pushing off the doorframe with his shoulder and making his way to the kitchen island. He stands opposite you, resting his elbows on the counter, chin in his hands. "My favourite."

The way your eyes sparkle under the warm lights that hang down from the ceiling has Jeongguk thinking of the stars again. His are all starry too, but you think that's just normal for him.

"Good," you say. "I'm making you your very own tomato cake. You have to eat it all ."

"I will."

"You better."

"Every last crumb," he nods - and even though tomato cake sounds absolutely repulsive to him, his stomach rumbles. Makes you laugh.

"When did you last eat?" you ask as you turn to the hob to fetch some spices off the rack.

Jeongguk mumbles. Says he doesn't really remember. Your eyes are sympathetic, frown present when you face him again.

"Gotta look after yourself," you tell him.

"I know. I will. I am - it's just, this exam, Byeol... I'm bricking it."

You had figured as much, but it's nice to have him confirm it instead of letting your assumptions take the lead.

"S'why I chose a coursework exclusive degree," you tease, trying to lighten his mood. "Was heaven."

"I'm so glad we didn't know each other back then," he laughs. "Would have resented you so badly."

You grimace, and give him a look he doesn't understand.

"You're BEM boy," you explain, shortening his Business and Events Management course name to the acronym that it's more commonly known by on campus. And then you shudder. "We wouldn't have been friends."

"Oh, bullshit," he protests. He knows boys on the full-time BEM course have a reputation amongst the alumni. Fuckboys . He's part-time, though. Doesn't run with those crowds. Is a good few years older than most of them, now.

"Nope," you argue back, still pottering about the kitchen, adding more ingredients to the saucepan. "If you'd have been in uni at the same time as me, I'd have avoided you like the plague."

"Would have been your loss."

Doesn't wanna blow his own trumpet, but knows that he looked damn good at 21. Considers it his peak. Forgets 23, and the amount of girls falling at his feet (was too busy at the time, face down by Hayun's feet instead). Simply doesn't realise how good he looks now, at 25.

Maybe 18-year-old Jeongguk was a little awkward, granted, but everyone is at that age. Whenever he used to visit his friends on campus for nights out, the girls they knew would always want to go out with them.

It's actually how he met Hayun. Was 19, and Taehyung had just done a project with her and Nabi for some extra credit. She came on a night out, and he got so nervous around her that he decided to black out just so he didn't have to feel the nerves. He'd woken up the next morning face down in a kebab box on the floor of Nabi and Hayun's dorm.

He resigned himself to the friend zone, and for a while, it had worked. For years, in fact. Convinced himself that they really were just friends. Best friends. Had offered to shag her after she'd spent a solid twenty minutes complaining about the fact she hadn't had sex for long she may as well have been a born-again virgin. Was just joking - but when she called his bluff, Jeongguk folded.

Maybe it wouldn't have been your loss at all. 

Maybe you'd have never become friends, like you are now. 

Maybe you both had to live through your traumas to be able to find one another.

You just scoff, unaware of memory lane taking Jeongguk down an unfavourable path. " Sure . My first uni hook-up was with a guy doing BEM. Trust me. I would have avoided you."

"Oh?" Jeongguk questions. "Do I know him?"

Shaking your head, you turn to place the pan on the stovetop, and let it heat up. "Doubt it. Was a final year when I was a fresher, so would have been gone way before you started."

Jeongguk's brows furrow, now. "When you were a fresher? A final year?"

Humming confirmation, you carry on with your cooking.

"He was supervising the fresher's bar crawl," you explain. Can't even remember his name, now. Can barely remember anything about that night. "Was leading my team. I lost against him in a drinking game. Really couldn't handle my drink back then. Anyways, I ended up in some off-campus house with the most vom-inducing hickies known to man."

"So you were drunk?"

It sounds a little accusatory. He doesn't mean to. It's just that he deals with creeps taking advantage of drunk girls all the time. Hates it. Hates thinking it happened to you.

"Yeah?"

"And he wasn't?"

"He was less so. Was still drinking, but yeah, it wasn't my best decision."

The way you shrug it off frustrates Jeongguk. His lips purse a little, and the dimples reserved for moments of contemplation deepen in his cheeks.

"You know what it's like when you're eighteen," you continue, facing away from him, unaware of his obvious contempt. "First taste of freedom and all that. Think you're invincible. And like, I made worse choices that year," you add, as if that's supposed to soften the blow of what you've just told him.

His tummy feels all twisted; as if his body is trying to manifest the concept of time travel just so he can go back and apply for university when everyone else did. Wants to have been your friend right from the start. Wants to erase the reality of creeps taking advantage of you.

"Still a kid at eighteen," he says. Strange, how he doesn't afford his past self the same kindness. "It's so young."

You shrug, turning back around to retrieve the extra vegetables for the sauce. "Easy to think that, looking back. Thought I had the world figured out, at the time. The older I get the more naive I realise I was."

Funny, how years and years later, you feel more clueless than you ever did back then. Relationships were black and white; you either loved someone, or you didn't.

Now, the concept of love you once knew isn't one that you're entirely sure you believe in. Not in the same way you did.

"Anyways, you should shower," you say, moving the conversation along. No point dwelling on pasts that make no difference, now. "You look like shit."

He reaches over to one of the spare tomatoes and throws it in your direction. Smiles when you try to swat it away, only for it to hit your neck regardless.

"Charming as always, Byeol," he says a little dryly, but with his smile still wide.

"Well, you do," you assure him, face straight, eyes earnest.

"Show up at my place, use my hot water, start rummaging around in my fridge-" he says with a tsk .

" You invited me," you scoff right back. " Told me to shower, and I'm cooking for you . Christ alive. You really are unbearable today."

The grin on Jeongguk's face is so pretty, eyes so sparkly, that you think you want to kiss him again. Silly little thought in your silly little head. Silly, and improper, and dangerous. Disastrous, in fact.

"And," you add on, because you know you need this conversation to end. "You stink. So go and get a shower, you horrible boy."

Feeling somewhat challenged, Jeongguk lifts his arm above his head and nestles his nose right into his pit. Inhales, as if he's smelling freshly baked pie. Smiles. "Ahhhh. Delicious."

You gag.

"You wanna smell?" he offers, leaning a little further on the counter, face sweet as he encourages you. The look of repulsion on your face is exactly what he was after. "Yeah?"

"Keep that pit away from me," you warn, holding up the knife you had used to chop the tomatoes.

Despite the threat, Jeongguk edges around the kitchen island. "Yeah? Wanna smell?"

"Stay the fuck away!"

"Wait, I didn't hear you. You said come closer?"

"Gguk!"

For all your protests, the knife is back down on the counter. You tossed it down so you could run from him, but you're not really trying all that hard.

You'll pretend like you are. Wriggle from his grip when he catches you. Try and hide your laugh as he tries to quite literally smother you. Will pinch his nipple through his shirt as a form of defence. Will gag, and whine, and pretend like this is the worst experience of your life.

But in the comedown of Jeongguk's chase, you both giggling, caught in an embrace that is far too close, sauce simmering away without a care, you'll notice the stars in his eyes again. Count the constellations. Forget how to breathe, as if you really are in space without any oxygen.

"You smell like a sweaty ballsack," you tell him with absolute certainty.

Yet your grip on his shirt doesn't ease.

"You look like a sweaty ballsack," he counters. Swallows.

Neither of you pull away. Apparently, you're both partial to a sweaty ballsack. Who'd have thought?

On a fundamental, human level, you're aware that Jeongguk doesn't smell great. He is sweaty and definitely has worn that shirt for like, three days in a row, but... you like it. Oh it's disgusting . Really fucking horrid. Rancid, even.

"Shower," he just says, softly, as if he's reminding himself of what he needs to do.

You nod. "Shower."

But your hands are still holding the sides of his shirt, and his eyes can't seem to focus on yours because they keep dropping to your lips, and then his breathing is all over the place and so is yours and - fuck .

Loosening your grip, you pat the front of his chest. He doesn't move. Just closes his eyes. Nods.

"I need to check the sauce," you whisper. "Go. Shower."

And so he does as he's told. You keep yourself busy tinkering about until you hear the shower start up - at which point, you rest your palms on the counter and let your head hang between your shoulders. Sigh deeper than Marianas Trench. Shake your head. "Stupid."

You're unaware, but he's doing the exact same thing by the bathroom sink.

It had been fine. It had been fun. Why did I have to linger like that? Why did I have to make things weird? Why am I always making things so awkward?

He tosses his clothes down on the pile by the door, his on top of yours, and instantly feels a little bit better when the water hits his skin. Tries not to dwell on it, 'cause if he pretends moments like those don't happen, he won't have to deal with them. Will gaslight himself into thinking it never happened.

You're on the couch by the time he's done with his shower, legs curled up, pasta cooked and waiting in a covered saucepan for him.

"Not eating?" he asks as he notices there's no evidence of you having pasta on the coffee table.

Glancing over to him, you're reminded of post-shower Jeongguk and why the concept of it is so dangerous for you. Towel wrapped around his waist, water trailing down his abs... Yeah. You lose your mind a little. Think that any sane human would also lose theirs.

"I, uh-" you pause. Swallow. "Um. Sorry. Eat?"

"Yeah," he smirks, a little bemused. Figures you were lost in the show you're watching. Still in his shirt, your hair is pretty much dry, now, slight waves framing your face while the rest of it is still pinned back in a claw clip. You really do need to decide what you're doing with the colour. The bleach is growing out far faster than you thought it would, but you can't commit yourself to getting rid of it. Jeongguk likes the slightly messy nature of it all. Thinks it suits you. "No pasta?"

"Oh," you enthuse when you realise what he was asking. "Was just waiting for you."

He apologises. Says you should have started without him. Says he wouldn't have minded it, and thanks you again for cooking. "Smells amazing."

Quick to throw on some clean clothes, Jeongguk shoos you out of the way when he gets back to the kitchen and finds you about to plate up. Insists he does it. You've done all the hard work. He's happy to wash up, but he wants to at least contribute now.

Jeongguk takes a single bite of the pasta before he stands up, retrieves the saucepan and a heat mat, then sets it down on the coffee table.

"You okay there?" you laugh, a little puzzled by him.

When he turns to look at you, as if you've betrayed him. "You never told me you could cook, B."

He had been expecting a regular, run-of-the-mill tomato pasta - nothing wrong with that, he would have enjoyed it - but this? Oh, this is as close to heaven as humans get through food. It's rich and spicy, but also a little sweet and tangy when it needs to be. The rigatoni is cooked just right. Just how he likes it.

"You can't?" You laugh, digging into your own bowl. Admittedly, it is banging. Your favourite comfort recipe, you're quietly overjoyed that he likes it.

He shakes his head to say no. Has always enjoyed cooking. Knows he'll have to make you his signature pork belly one day. If you end up staying tonight (which he's hoping you will, even if he is awful company at the moment), he'll cook breakfast.

"I can - I just... fuck me, Byeol," he almost moans. "This shit is good."

Jeongguk's always had a good stroke game, but when it comes to stroking your ego? Yeah, he ain't bad at that, either.

He also isn't bad at turning himself into a literal human hoover. It's a miracle he doesn't choke, or get heartburn. He's already nearly polished off the leftovers from the pan before you've even made it halfway through your bowl (of which he had filled to the brim, because portion control with a body like his doesn't apparently matter).

Pasta eaten - or in Jeongguk's case, absolutely demolished - he allows himself the luxury of switching off for the first time all week. Other than a quick gym session here and there, or coffee with Hayun towards the start of the week, he hasn't taken a moment to relax at all.

You're rabbiting on about something inconsequential, just letting him exist. You know it's been a hard week. The television plays in the background, big light turned off, your feet in his lap. He stokes a little mindlessly over your ankle, self-soothing for him and just as comforting for you. He's meant to be listening, but zoned a little while ago.

Initially, he was thinking about the weird moment between you both in the kitchen earlier, but tried to get it out of his head.

Ends up thinking about the BEM twat you mentioned earlier, instead. Thinks you've got horrible taste in men - or at least, in hookups. He knows both he and Jimin could be classified in that category, but he disregards that. Or at least, he disregards himself .

At least he makes you orgasm. If he asks, will probably be horrified by the amount of times you've gone without one during intercourse. It's not always, but often. Never with him though, which is nice.

Scares you a little bit. The idea of the best sex of your life being with someone who isn't romantically involved with you just doesn't sit right. What if you fall in love and Jeongguk is still the best you've ever had? Will you be comparing? It's a variable you're yet to test out. One that worries you.

But all Jeongguk can think about is the fact that you're his friend. And he cares about you. And he thinks you deserve to feel good. And knows he can do that. And that he wants to do that. And so, quite suddenly, Jeongguk interrupts you.

"Can I get you off?"

You almost choke on your own spit. Had been explaining a new discovery of ancient mammals using tools for hunting and cooking. Not the most enticing topic of conversation, to say the least.

"Sorry?" You laugh, taken aback by the sudden request.

He looks away. Looks at his hands. Looks back at you. Wishes he wouldn't let the impulsive thoughts win, sometimes.

But then, because apparently he's a fucking idiot with no self-control, he asks again. "Can I get you off?"

The answer is always, unabashedly, yes . You've been caught off guard though. Panic. Ask, "Why?"

He shrugs. Looks at his hands again, eyes wide, brows furrowed. Wants to pour boiling water in his ear to melt his brain. Would probably work better if it was mush, he thinks. A reply to your question sits on the tip of your tongue, but there are too many variations for him to choose from - Because you deserve it. Because I'm horny. Because I want to. - so he just says: "fun."

And, like, he's not wrong. It is fun. You just thought it would be the last thing on his mind, given how stressed and sleepy he's been.

"I mean, do you want to?" you laugh, a little hot beneath the shirts of his that you're wearing by the mere suggestion of it.

He shrugs. Thinks it's a stupid question. Nods. "Get your minge out."

The horror plastered all over your face wouldn't be out of place in a Hitchcock film.

"Get my minge out?!" You hiss, your repulsion only second to shock.

"Yeah," he smirks. Is deliberately being vulgar because it's funny, and he needs this to be anything but romantic. Will lose his fucking head if he starts thinking about stars and constellations and shit like that again - but fuck . Even after a shower, you're covered in glitter! He can never fuckin' win. Is in a constant state of war with his own head. How can he ever expect to win against the milky way in human form? You'll eclipse him one day, and he'll enjoy every second of it.

"It's almost like you don't want me to get wet," you tell him, as if you didn't feel a slight twinge in your stomach when he smirked. Wasn't your fault. His lip ring did the thing. You're only human. Was bound to happen.

"I think you're already wet," he says all rather plainly.

"That's beyond the point."

It's a satisfying answer. One that makes him feel all smug. Gets his cock a little twitchy.

"Look, I'm stressed, B," he admits. "There's so much going on in my head that I can't think straight. Getting you off is, like, a stress reliever."

You furrow your brows. "Surely getting yourself off is a stress reliever?"

"I can do that at the same time, if you want?" He says, cheeky in the way he raises his eyebrows and toys with his lip ring.

"You are such a boy."

"So is that a no?"

That's the thing about you and Jeongguk; you'll never reject him.

In fact, it's probably quite futile for his whole fear of rejection thing. That'll be a thought to battle with later, though.

"It's an 'ask nicely' ."

Jeongguk gently squeezes your ankle, before getting to his feet and piling the pasta bowls into a neat stack. "Let me just wash up, alright?"

You watch him as he walks away not even waiting for a response. He does it often; wants your approval of things he's already determined to do. It's sweet, in a way. Could be frustrating, given the right circumstances, but it hasn't been so far. You just kinda keep your gaze on him, confused at how a man so reserved and cautious in one moment can be so reckless and charming in the next.

"Byeol?" He hums, flicking on the tap and reaching for the dish soap.

"Hmm?" You hum right back.

"Go wait in my room."

It takes you a second or so to follow his commands. Earns a minuscule plea from him. "Please, B."

You can't refuse him. Not really. Never have been able to.

His room is still a mess. Glitter-tarnished pillows clue you into the fact that he hasn't washed his sheets since new years - but then you remember the fact he definitely changed the bottom sheet. Colour floods to your cheeks, memories of that night crashing to the forefront of your mind.

You try to forget about it. Forget the kisses. Forget the way it sounds when Jeongguk calls you ' baby '.

This? Now? Nothing more than a stress reliever. ' Fun '.

You neaten up his bed, and tuck the takeout boxes out of sight. Turn on his cosmic mood lamp, but leave the curtains open. You preen yourself in his mirror. Realise there's something missing, so retrieve the little pot of glitter from his shelf.

The remains of the day's glitter are all over your skin, but the shower had cleansed your eyes of it. Makes you feel naked. You hate it - so quickly stipple a little in your inner corners and beneath your lash line.

It's funny. When you take off the shirt of his that you're wearing, and toss it over the back of his chair a moment later, you don't feel naked. Feel perfectly yourself. A glitter girlie through and through.

Jeongguk stops in his tracks as soon as he reaches his door frame. You're standing on the other side of his bed, a coy smile on your lips

"Fuck."

His eyes are all over you, tongue wetting his bottom lip before his teeth press down on it. Something about your body really gets him. It's likely the memories - knowing how your skin tastes, how soft your tits are and how hard your nipples can get, the pressure of your lips on his neck - that gets him even stiffer in his sweats.

He really underestimated the consequences of telling you to get your minge out. Should have thought about that.

"You're gonna kill me one day," he mutters as you get onto the bed with almost feline elegance. He walks a little closer. Meets you by the corner of his mattress. Doesn't object as you palm him through his sweats. Sighs into your touch. "God."

Perfectly poised to suck his dick, you both know that you could. He wants it. Wants it so badly he can't even begin to articulate a request.

But it's not about him. Not even when your lips press pretty kisses against the outline of his cock.

He's making you cum. He has to. Will die if he doesn't.

"On your back," he husks. "Spread your legs for me."

There's a pout on your lips, but you do as he says. When your back hits his sheets, your tits pillow on your chest, perfectly round and desperately in need of his lips around your nipples. Legs open for him, one of your hands dips to your pussy while the other cups one of your boobs. Middle and forefinger spreading your wet lips for him, you feign a little innocence.

"This what you want?"

All he can do is nod, eyes transfixed on just how good you look. Wetness seeps from you, covering you in the most glorious sheen. You're always so wet for him. So ready. So willing.

You massage yourself a little for him. Toy with your clit. Whine probably more than you really need to.

Standing at the end of his bed, cock furiously hard in the strained material of his sweats, Jeongguk wraps his hands around your ankles. Yanks you further down his bed. Gets you all giggly.

He doesn't loosen his grip straight away. Instead, he lifts your legs. Rests your heels on his shoulders. Reaches down to squeeze your boobs. Grunts. "Fuckin' tits, man."

You're grinning, still. "What of them?"

He shakes his head. Grins, too. "Fuckin' corrupted me."

"You want them in your mouth again, don't you?" You tease - but are quickly put back in your place when Jeongguk sinks a finger into your hot cunt. "Fuck."

"Keep playing with yourself," he says, before getting all shy. He's about to admit how much he likes your tits. Again . As if you don't already know. Cringes. Tilts his head to the side, nose nestling against your foot. Smiles. Looks back at you with shame and sin all over his starry features. Sinks a second finger into you. "Yeah, I wanna suck them. So fuckin' bad."

His fingers are slow as they work their way into you. In. Out. Push. Pull. It's heaven. Slow. Deep. Just like Jeongguk's eyes and the way they study the pleasure on your face. He's taking his time.

You draw dainty little circles on your clit, not wanting to take the focus away from the feeling of his fingers. The combination is lethal; the furrowing of Jeongguk's brows a trigger that could set you off at any given moment.

Something about his work ethic really gets you. He puts his all into the things he does. Wants to be the best. Endeavours to always get top marks. The way he's cramming for his exam? Yeah. It's hot. His determination? His drive? So incredibly sexy. It comes as no surprise that he's got similar prowess for making you come undone. He reads your body. Understands that the tight closing of your eyes is pleasure, not pain. Knows that the flexing of your calves against his chest, the pointing of your toes by his ears, means he's stroking at the right spot; curling his fingers just right.

His spare hand strokes up your leg. Grips your ankle, his thumb lacing itself beneath your anklet. Your head pushes back into his sheets, spine arching for him.

"Yeah?" he encourages as he continues stroking up against your front wall. "Does it feel good?"

Eyes still closed, you nod. Whimper.

A little more pressure on your clit would make you come. You aren't doing it 'cause you want this feeling to last, but you're already so close. He knows exactly how to get you on edge. Finds your weak points and exploits them for his own pleasure; the satisfaction of giving you an orgasm.

"Good," he husks, pressing his lips against the side of your foot, just cause he needs to do something with them. Fucks his fingers into a little deeper. Slower. Is dulcet as he says, "wanna fuck you so bad."

"Do it," you whine. "Fuck me. Please."

You can hear the tiny little nose breath he does as a soft smirk graces his lips. Can feel them against your foot as he shakes his head and whispers, "no."

You whine. Pout. "Gguk-"

But then he builds speed. Is so fast you can barely breathe let alone speak. Makes your entire body shake.

"That's it," he keens. "Keep rubbing your clit. You're gonna cum for me."

"Gguk."

"You're gonna cum."

Thing is, it's not a command. It's an observation. He can feel you getting tighter; feel the familiar clamp of your hot muscles against his long fingers. Knows that this is what precedes heaven on earth.

All you can do is nod. "Gonna cum."

Your hips roll up into his touch, desperate to be as full of him as you can be. As you press down on your clit, the way Jeongguk shallows his finger to directly hit your g-spot has you mewling. His fingers are fast as he repeatedly motions them upwards, the knot in your stomach growing tight and tighter and tighter - until, gradually, eventually, but all very suddenly, the rope snaps entirely.

Your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, throbbing walls tightening around Jeongguk's fingers, your spare hand grabbing at his wrist to both stop him and keep him in place. It's too much and not enough all at the same time. You continue applying pressure to your clit as writhe in his sheets.

Jeongguk watches on, jaw slack, eyes hungry. He could watch this all day; how the creases between your brows don't ease, not even when your lips curl into a smile. How your chest heaves, and your legs jolt. God. He wishes you were a part of his exam. He'd pass with flying colours.

"You good?" He asks a little too fondly, smiling down at you.

Laughing to yourself a little, you cover your eyes with your forearm. Nod. "Good."

But you're also not done.

There's a plethora of sticky notes on his wall, and you're pretty sure Jeongguk hasn't had a release in a fair few days. He needs this more than you.

And so when you tell him to pick a sticky note, he doesn't waste time. Goes for one at waist level - figures you probably put it up, not him.

Turning back to face you, the sticky note affixed to his index finger as he reads it, his brows furrow. Face contorts. Head tilts to the side.

"What the fuck is an erotic accordion?"

—

"I don't ever wanna see you in that position again," Jeongguk shudders, decidedly not finding anything erotic about being positioned like a fucking accordion.

The mechanics of it all just do not do it for him. It's not even so much the awkwardness of you, but himself. Didn't like seeing himself in that position. Has never been so aware of his own legs during a shag. Weirded him out.

You snort. "Please - I think it was the least sexually attracted to you I've ever been."

Jeongguk toys with his lip ring, tattooed arm folded across his chest, sheets pooling just beneath his belly button. Back against his headrest, all of his pillows are on the floor. They'd just gotten in the way earlier.

You're on your back, legs up against his headrest, both mirroring and subverting his position. On top of the sheets, you're wearing one of his shirts to cover your modesty.

"So you admit it," he teases with a raise of his eyebrows as you look over towards him. Wish there were still pillows on his bed so you could hit him with one. "You do think I'm hot."

"Not when you're positioned like that," you tease right back.

It's all in good humour. Neither of you are taking any offence. The whole point of these sticky notes is to find out what you do and don't like - the erotic accordion? Yeah. You'll file that one under 'not again'.

Although the more Jeongguk thinks about it, the more open he is to it.

"Felt pretty good, though."

The position, which had been one of your sticky notes, involved him laying on his back with his knees to his chest. The thought of it now makes you giggle. He looked quite cute, all things considered. Submissive. Shy.

He's got that pensive face of his on, looking straight ahead at his desk. There's an assignment open on his dual screens, and he does need to get back to it soon, but he's making the most of a short break with you. 

His lips ring does the thing as he nibbles down on his bottom lip.

You move your leg a little to tap his head with your foot, getting his attention.

"Mhm?" he hums, eyes still unfocused.

"Did it really feel good?"

He nods. Looks at you now. Smirks, but tries to hide it. Shrugs his broad shoulders, collar bones catching on the light of his monitors. Dark outside, they're the only thing lighting up the room now that his lamp is turned off.

"Can't get that deep," he simply states. "There's, like, a lot going on around the tip. It's the most sensitive part, isn't it? So yeah."

You've always been a deep penetration girlie, but even you have to admit the shallowness of his cock pushing into only just your entrance before pulling out again felt really nice. Completely different to what you're used to - especially from him.

Glancing down his chest to where his hand rests over his crotch, you assess the situation. The sheets cover him, but you know he's a little hard beneath them.

You adjust slightly. Press your thighs together, heels against his wall.

With a hearty sign, you feign a little boredom. "Fine. I'll fuck you again."

"Sorry?" He almost giggles. Teeth on show, nose a little scrunched, he doesn't understand you, sometimes. Enjoys it, though. Likes how you aren't taking the sticky notes seriously.

It alleviates him of the pressure that would come with doing these things with anyone else, he thinks.

He knows that's the whole point of them - try these things with you, so that he doesn't have to fear rejection of asking for them with anyone else - but he's surprised at how well it seems to work.

Then again, he's not yet put any of them into practice.

Unaware of his complex thoughts, yours are far more simple: you're still horny.

The accordion really isn't all that erotic. You didn't finish. Didn't care for reciprocation, 'cause Jeongguk's got a wall full of sticky notes, and it's only just gone midnight. You know you'll be coming undone at least once more tonight - if Jeongguk's track record is anything to go by, it'll be plenty more.

Tapping his head with your foot again, you smile as his hand wraps around your ankle.

"Stop," he mumbles, nose resting on the top of your foot, lips pressing against the side of it.

You bite down on your bottom lip, a little flustered from heavenly his chocolatey eyes appear. He keeps his grip on your ankle and pulls it over his lap, encouraging your body to twist. Dragging you to straddle him, reverse cowgirl style, Jeongguk isn't shy about the fact he's hard again.

"You're so easy," you simper, slinking down like a cat, back a little arched, arms straight out ahead of you. His hands push his shirt up, and grips the soft flesh of your hips, pulling you a little further up his lap. You automatically find yourself grinding a little against him. Force of habit.

"Me?" He murmurs, gripping your ass now. He's a little rough with it. Fingers strong. You half think he's gonna spank you - but then he sinks his middle finger straight into your cunt. Still wet and wanting after the sex, Jeongguk enjoys teasing you. Likes keeping you keen. It's fun. He pulls the entire length of his finger out from you. Licks it clean. Keeps his hushed groan quiet. Fingers you again. Pulls out, again. The sound of him intruding and leaving is so satisfying. He does it again. Again, again. You're a little whimpery. "I'm the easy one?"

"Mhmm," you whine as he pushes into you again, still a single, long finger. He holds it there this time. "So easy."

The way you're positioned right now has him wanting to act on his ass-guy impulses. You kind of knew it would. He got you into this position far too easily for it not to have been something he's perfected over the years.

"Can I?" He husks, not wanting to ask the full question, hoping you'll understand.

You do. You know exactly what he wants. Wanna give him the green light without hesitation - but you're supposed to be helping one another.

"Ask properly," you say, voice contorted with the anticipation of pleasure. "Ask for what you want, Jeongguk."

"Mhh," he groans. The hand that isn't currently occupied with your pussy squeezes the soft mound of your ass. "I hate it when you make me do this."

It's almost like he's forgotten how often he makes you directly ask for things.

Your hips roll for him, Jeongguk's fingers still inside. Can't help but moan. "Gotta do it, Gguk. Gotta open yourself up for rejection."

He knows you won't say no. Knows rejection isn't on the table here, and yet he sort of worries about it, still. This is something he wants. Something he's expressed desire in; exclusively his.

Jeongguk lowers his head. Presses a kiss to where his hand was once squeezing your ass. Rests his forehead there. Groans.

"You know I want it," you husk, encouraging him. "All you gotta do is ask. Use your big boy words."

He just whines again. Is deliberately dramatic when he says, "Don't say shit like that, Byeol. I'll cum in my pants."

With a soft laugh, you turn back to look at him. Your faces are both partially obscured by the positioning of your body, but your eyes are able to meet. He's pouting. Eyes wide. Looks as if he's telling gospel truths.

"You're not gonna cum in your pants," you tell him, knowing he's a big fat liar. He's probably not even ready to go again, yet.

"No," he admits. "But I might die.

Rolling your eyes, you grin as you regain your former position. "So you want your dying words to be that of a coward, huh?"

He sighs. Knows you're right. Fucks his finger into you even deeper, stroking at your walls. Gets you a little whiney .

"Wanna eat your ass, " he gruffs, spreading your cheeks a little with his spare hand. You're on display for him, the tight muscle he's dying to get his tongue on just waiting there patiently; pristine. "Let me. Please ."

And then, quite unexpectedly, you free yourself from his grip. Pull away.

Turn to face him, and smile with a grin Jeongguk knows is trouble.

"No."

Lips hanging ajar, Jeongguk looks like he's just been hit in the chest with a paintball gun. He almost wants to question it - No? What do you mean no? - but he knows exactly what no means. Respects it. And yet he feels a little cheated.

"B..." is all he says, because, like, what the fuck? You'd practically been edging him. Forced him to ask .

"Gguk..." you tease back, obviously finding this far more amusing than he is.

His face is a picture, confusion contorting his features, silence speaking for him. It's the reaction you expected, but it makes you feel a lot more guilty than you had anticipated. It's not that you're trying to be a dick. You really did want him to do it.

But Jeongguk is also yet to face any form of rejection. The girls he's spoken to have been interested in him. Not once has he faced any sizable consequence to his questions or actions, and even though you know that asking to eat your ass isn't exactly the top of his issues, you have to reject him. Have to get him used to the feeling. Have to let him get comfortable with it.

He doesn't really know what to do. Purses his lips. Nods. Is obviously disappointed, but trying his best not to let it show.

You feel guilty. Come a little closer. Straddle his lap again, and guide his chin so that his gaze is directly on yours.

He resists at first. Is embarrassed. Feels all horrible inside. It's even worse that his cock is still hard. The entire thing is a bit mortifying. Doesn't wanna look at you, 'cause he feels stupid. Must have misread the situation. Idiot.

But he hadn't misread it all.

You hadn't planned on doing that. Just kind of had an impulsive thought - what if I do reject him? - and let it win.

"That was mean," he whispers so quietly that you almost don't hear it.

You nod, noses nudging against his. "It was."

"Say sorry," he pouts.

When you smile, a small giggle is held back. "I'm sorry. Should I kiss you?" you offer. He pulls you a little further up his lap. Makes you think a kiss is coming. "To say sorry?"

Closer, closer, closer. His nose nudges up against yours. He pauses. "No."

It's direct. To the point. Gets you in your chest a little. Rejection . Funny little thing.

"I wasn't trying to be a dick. There is a sticky note with it on, Koo," you begin to explain. Jeongguk hates how loopy that name makes his tummy feel. "It's gonna happen. I want it to happen."

Yet you didn't let it. He doesn't get it. Doesn't understand. It's a rare instance of your communication going awry.

"You made me ask," he mumbles, pouting. "And then you..."

You stay silent. Wait for him to figure it out. It takes only a second or so. You know he's cracked it when his thumbs begin to stroke against your skin like it normally does.

"And then I rejected you," you nod. Feel incredibly guilty about it now.

Living through rejection in times of vulnerability is important for him. He needs to process that it's okay; that rejection isn't automatic doom and gloom. That he can put himself out and not fear rejection - not because it will never happen, but because he can recognise that life goes on after it.

And it does. For now, though, he's still a little embarrassed.

"I hate that you did that," he says candidly, voice quiet, nose nestled against yours. Wants to stay close. Wants the comfort that comes with it. Eyes shut, his confidence feels shot to shit.

On a normal day, he'd probably not be so concerned about it all - however his emotions are running high. It's just the stress, but it's impacting all of his interactions.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I know," he whispers right back. He genuinely does believe you are - but also believes you shouldn't have to apologise for saying no. "It's okay. 'No' is okay. You can say sorry for being a meanie, but that's all. Can't say sorry for saying 'no' , okay?"

Oh, you've never wanted to kiss him more. Give him the biggest, sweetest smooch for just being so inexorably endearing.

But you just nod. He'd said 'no' to kisses earlier.

Life goes on. Jeongguk knows this. Repeats it like an oath.

Life goes on. Life goes on. Life goes on.

"Two choices," he says. Pulls away a little. Wants to look in your starry eyes, and forget what just happened. "Choice one - we call it a night and get some sleep."

"Or?" you encourage, still feeling a little awful about the whole rejection thing.

"Or, choice two - you go and pick a sticky note, this time. We do whatever it says."

If there's one thing for certain, it's that you love a good redemption arc. Think this is a no-brainer. You hop off his lap without a second thought and pluck one off the wall at random.

Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip as he watches you. His head is all over the place, but he knows one definite truth: you make things feel okay .

Embarrassment? It's null and void, with you. Sure, he feels it in the moment, but it always just simmers away. Disappears.

"So?" he asks, as you scan over the words of the note.

It's Jeongguk's handwriting. Is deserved, you think.

You turn it around for him to read, getting back into position on his lap. He welcomes you back, Holds your waist as you intrude on his personal space more - but is it really intruding if he's opening the door for you? Welcoming you in?

"Ah," he grins a little awkwardly. " That ."

" That ," you echo with a small giggle.

"You wanna do it?" he asks, a little cautiously this time.

You're so proud. 

He opened himself for rejection again . He can do it.

With a nod, and every muscle in your body willing your lips not to kiss him, you say, "yeah. I do."

Jeongguk grins even brighter, now. Has stars in his smile. Thoughts of twenty minutes prior don't bother him anymore.

"Alright," he sighs a little, as if he isn't secretly really keen for what's yet to come. "Let's get it."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[taissaswifelowkey]

Yellowjackets calling/texting you 🗣️‼️

a/n: i hesitated between choosing a modern or sticking to the original timeline ngl 💀 love love love doing these sm but i love that people read it even more youre all the best 😎🔥 italics: text messages

warnings: none, self-indulgent obviously 🙄 proofread bc i forget to do it most of the time

1996 timeline

📚 okay so taissa prefers seeing you in person but that wouldn’t stop her from sending you a message, meaning replying to your texts. like you would text her the most random thing ever like “im gnawing on this apple” (ifykyk) she would also send reminders telling you to drink water or that your assignment is due this week. uses “ok” and elipses or periods but her messages still mean well :((

I passed my oral exam!!

Congrats. I’m proud of you.

Can you pick me up later on after class?

Ok.

Don’t forget we have practice tomorrow…

I am going to live tomorrow?

🛹 LOTSSS AND LOTSSS of random text messages with van!! she would page you every ten minutes, every two hours. and so would you tbh.

i don’t understand this assignment

what assignment lol

also sends you letters! you sent her a letter back and everyone is just like “???? can’t you call or text each other???”

they don’t know understand how classic you two are and like to be :(

🕷️ i feel like nat would sneak off to a payphone to call you or just sneak off to your place. like taissa, she prefers to see you in person. it was mostly bc you kinda told her off for calling you at a random pay phone at god knows what time where anything could happen.

“i was perfectly fine and safe kevyn was waiting for me in his car.”

“oh so it was kevyn’s idea to drive you to a payphone at one in the morning?”

you’ll definitely make it a point to remind kevyn not to entertain her ideas anymore.

🦉 misty would call you. she LOVESSS the sound of your voice. talk to her about anything but ask her about her a day and she would def twirl her hair ngl 💀💀 the simplest of questions about her makes her stop to think every two minutes and you’re on the other line wondering if the connection got cut or something.

“what about your day? anything interesting happened in english period?”

“well…my day, you mean? as in…my day?”

she would have to be careful just bc of the phone bill. is the type of person to say “you hang up first 😜😜😜” and you did it once UNINTENTIONALLY.

🎀 jackie would text or call you but sometimes she would forget to answer you though. she mentally answers them. your logs is basically just you texting her, and her replying like two three business days.

Hey, let me know what I should get for lunch!!

Chicken dumplings please <33

? I asked you that a WEEK ago.

I know but can you still get it pls

and if she doesn’t answer your text messages she would just do it in person. though most of the time you’d forget what it was about. you two are seriously forgetful but catch up once you’re with each other. lottie is just better at talking than texting. if anything, i feel like it’s also bc she’s lowkey stressed

🧸 jackie would call, text, email, kick her feet and twirl her hair. would still text you right after calling you. would either feel bad or kinda grumpy if you take your time though.

I miss you

We literally just got off the phone

Wow, SORRY for MISSING my GIRLFRIEND.

Besides we got off the phone 30 mins ago. What were you doing then???

I was showering????

would send you so many “ily” texts, would spam your inbox with heart emojis.

🪵 answer shauna’s texts on time or she’ll be grumpy. definitely said “without me?” when you told her you were going to sleep. an avid “lol” user

Hi lol

Hiii <33

You left your sweater at my place lol

Okay, I’ll get it tomorrow. Whats with the lol though?

Idk lol

like misty, when you call, she loves the sound of your voice. her brain is focused on every syllables and consonants, and the way you would accentuate certain words. definitely twirled her hair and caught herself in the mirror while doing so and got the ick.

[wundrousarts]

Do you think Hawthorne has some sort of connection to Morrigans's wundrous song? I'm not going off on a lot except that the song talks about a son of the morning and that Hawthorne feels like the definition of sunshine. And the fact that Morrigan is an eventide kid and she has something with darkness. (??)

Idk what the song could mean, but maybe it's like a foreshadowing to their dynamic, maybe they'll become enemies or opposites or like kids with a destiny because so far it feels like they're far too buddy buddy. Hawthorne is Morrigan's first friend. And he's her best friend. Like. Help.

Also the song talks about the son of the morning being liked, or well someone who has something good ahead of him, and that reminds me of Hawthorne's promising career in dragon riding. He has a lot ahead of him, and in that snippet of Holliday Wu with Hawthorne she said 'the kids are gonna love him', and I feel like Hawthorne is gonna be super popular and well-liked. (Like maybe that's what the song means with 'up with the sun where the winds are warming', he climbs the social ladder.) Meanwhile Morrigan seems to become more and more unpopular because she's a wundersmith. Like it doesn't matter who Morrigan is, it just matters that she's a wundersmith. And soon she'll go down to where the pale things bite or something. As in she'll be an outcast. Or worse.

But if that's the case, then what could it mean??? What will it lead to?

Can we then connect the two wundrous songs of Morrigan's and Squall's? If Morrigans's song is foreshadowing then what if Squall's song is a warning? Or another foreshadowing? A foreshadowing to what then? Is it a prophecy? Are both prophecies??

Help.

🫠

Oooh this is a great question. I don't think that Morrigan and Hawthorne will find themselves not being friends at any point, because I feel like they've already gone through a lot together and have had each other's backs, so I can't see that ending at any point.

I do love any opportunity to discuss the Nocturne songs though!!

I'm hiding my ramblings on this below the cut, because as a true "spaghetti theorist", I am truly just throwing everything and anything at the wall:

One thing I wonder is if the Morningtide nursery rhyme is derived from Little Crowling, or if both songs are derived from a third same source, or if perhaps they are two songs that existed at the same time. Why does Squall seem to recognize Morrigan's song, and Mog recognize Squall's song?! It haunts me. I wish Wundersmith was adapted so maybe we could hear both songs (because hopefully Little Crowling will be in the movie...?). Maybe as Mog trains with Squall we might learn more!

On Discord awhile ago, I said

they’re not like 1:1 but like “o daughter of night” and “with button black eyes” have the same # of syllables (and are possibly depicting the same thing/idea), and “swoops down into the meadow where the rabbits all hide” and “deep down below where the pale things bite” are similar ideas and maybe even an inversion a bit

and I really think there's something there. Maybe it's playing with who/what is "good" vs "evil"? IDK.

In one of the Garrett interviews (which are my favorite Nevermoor/Jessica Townsend interviews everrrr), there's this bit:

ASTRID: Jessica, back to Ezra Squall. When a Wundersmith calls Wunder they sing something. They sing a tune that means something to them, and we know that Ezra Squall's tune involves the words ‘little crowling, little crowling’. Look, Morrigan Crow. Crow Manor. My question here is obvious. What can you tell me? JESSICA: Actually, I can't tell you anything… but that should give you your answer. ASTRID: Look, I had to try. JESSICA: I can tell you that's a really good intelligent question and it's a good observation. Don't worry, there will be satisfaction there. All I can tell you is that there will be satisfaction.

I hope we learn more about Nocturne songs at some point, because I wonder if Little Crowling has been Squall’s song the whole time, or if it’s a new thing? He calls Mog “little crowling” a few times, so yes there’s definitely a connection there.

You sent this question at a great time because I had asked a question about Nocturne songs during the Q&A and she answered it after you sent this. I asked if there was any reason the Nocturne songs sound similar, or if I was reaching, and (in short) she said:

This is a really good question. I think they probably sound similar because they're both intended to be nursery rhymes. I wrote them as to be nursery rhymes in this world, in Nevermoor. I think you should think about the fact that they both chose nursery rhymes as their songs to call Wunder.

I have many thoughts, but at the same time, it’s so hard to theorize when there’s no info to go off of. I hope we learn more of the verses of Little Crowling at some point— I don’t care if the last verse is too grim to end up in a book!

Some ideas:

— Do Wundersmiths write their own songs? Is this perhaps how Nocturne is mastered?

— Maybe choosing nursery rhymes to summon Wunder could indicate something about their personal relationships with gathering and using Wunder?

—— Are they above Wunder, or below it? Not sure if that's the right wording, but just trying to think about what the dynamic between Wunder and Wundersmith for both Squall and Mog could be.

——— While writing this point I misremembered for a moment and wrote "Summoner and Smith", for which the full phrase is, "Summoned Wunder shows itself to summoner and smith." Are "summoner and smith" both the same person or entity (such as a Wundersmith), as "once it's summoned, any old Wundersmith can see it," or are there people out there that can be a summoner but not a smith, etc.? IDK.

— Maybe Little Crowling is a song encouraging Mog to be evil? We don’t know how long Squall has been keeping tabs on Mog.

— Lots of discussion lately about that one dream and if it could relate to Mog’s mom:

—— Maybe she was singing a song and then Squall sung Little Crowling afterwards

—— Maybe Mog’s mom was singing a happier version of Little Crowling, or it’s a song that Squall twisted.

——— Unrelated: everyone thinks that Mog’s mom must have been nice and caring… imagine if she wasn’t really that kind, LOL

—— I think it would be interesting if Mog’s mom was singing Little Crowling (or a variation of it) because of a reference to a rabbit… perhaps inspired by a certain toy rabbit passed down from mother to daughter? And again the obvious “crowling” and a baby (Morrigan) Crow… 🤔🧐🤨

— Perhaps Little Crowling is an older (anti-?) Wundersmith song. Squall was part of the last generation of Wundersmiths so maybe when he was young people were getting tired of them and the system they are a part of.

—— The “button black eyes” just makes me 🤔 because so far the only two Wundersmiths we know notably have black eyes…

— Also back to rabbits having to stay with their mother to be safe from the crowling… y’know who doesn’t have a mother?? Both Mog and Squall!!

Anyways. I really just took a sliver of your ask and ran with it, lol. We don’t know much about Nocturne songs, especially these particular ones, and I hope we learn more soon. Perhaps by training with Squall, Mog might be able to learn more? More verses and more history and information? I certainly hope so!!

I also have to take a moment to shoutout u/AlexWigg on Reddit, who made these renditions of Morningtide's Child and Little Crowling that I really enjoy.

[lu-undy]

If your asks are still open, what would you think about Splniper comforting Spy after he wakes up from a nightmare by cuddling him and making him hot cocoa?

Here it is, I hope this checks out!

It is reasonable to imagine Spy having trouble sleeping. After all that he has done, all the lives he ended - directly or indirectly -, all the secrets and hearts that he stole, after all the deceptions and lies, it is fair to say that the man had a lot to feel remorse and regret for.

So the nightmares were frequent, the sleep babbling - one could hardly call it talking given the lack of more than a noise or syllable per few words - was incessant sometimes and of course, the clenching of his jaw and his limbs was exhausting.

On the other hand, Mundy could sleep anywhere in any, possibly uncomfortable position imaginable. But sharing his nights with Spy had shown him a side of the man that very few knew about him.

At first, the nights were peaceful. But as Spy grew comfortable with his lover, Mundy gradually got exposed to more and more of these episodes of nightly restlessness.

The first time it was only a babble. It woke the Aussie up and he had smiled about it, thinking this was in fact priceless ammunition for his little teasing games with the spy. But the smile soon disappeared when he saw the frown on Spy's sleeping face and the sweat dripping from his brow.

Sniper did not know how to react, much less how to ask Spy for guidance on this. But one day, before he managed to gather the courage, Spy himself opened up about this.

"I would understand if you preferred sleeping on your own."

The sentence had been the opener to a conversation that caught Sniper so off guard, he nearly spat his coffee out.

“What? No, why're you sayin' that?"

"I know my sleep is at the other end of peaceful and I can only imagine how painful it is to share a bed with me. I also know that after a nightmare that forced me to wake up last night, you pretended to be sleeping but you saw and heard everything. No need to make this more awkward than it needs to be." Spy puffed out some smoke, sat on his end of the sofa. He was staring at the cigarette between his fingers, which Sniper now knew was a habit he had to not look whoever he was addressing in the eye.

"Spook, I-"

"No need." Spy cut him and raised a flat hand. "No need to elaborate. You can go back to your van and meet with me for breakfast here or whenever you feel like it."

“No, you idiot." That's when Spy's eyes flashed to his lover who was sat at the other end of the couch. "I don't care that you wake me up at night. But now that we're talkin' about it, I've always wanted to ask you a few things about it."

Spy waved his hand in an inviting motion, for Sniper to ask away. "You didn't used to have these… uh…”

"Episodes." Spy filled in.

"Yeah, those episodes, you didn't use to have them when we first started seein' each other. So I'm thinking that it's somethin' I do or say that makes this happen. And whatever it is, it’s really gettin’ on your nerves.”

Spy shook his head, sighing.

“Spook, please. Just tell me what it is and I’ll stop doin’ it.”

Spy chortled.

“Don’t give yourself any credit, Bushman.”

“What’s that mean?” Sniper asked.

“It means that you are not the cause of any of this. It started way before I knew you.”

“How come it didn’t happen at the beginnin’ then?”

“That is because I hardly slept at the beginning, precisely to avoid this issue. But after weeks of being sleep deprived, I couldn’t fight it anymore and I now sleep at night.” Spy took a drag of his cigarette. He was speaking coldly, which he usually did, but Sniper could tell that this was a bit colder than usual which meant that Spy was trying to hide his emotions.

The Aussie let the silence hang for a second before he found the right way to respond.

“I just wanna know how to help you.” He answered and put his now empty coffee mug on the coffee table in front of him. “I don’t want to go away from you just because you have trouble sleepin’, that’s stupid.”

Spy did not say anything.

“So d’you know what I can do to help you when you have these nightmares and things like that?” Sniper asked.

“Non.” Spy answered. “As far as I know, nothing helps.”

“Have you tried tablets to help you sleep? Maybe that can work?”

“I am not sick.” Spy replied. “This is not an illness. It is the result of my life choices.” He stood up and left the sofa. Sniper understood that it was not personal, it was not against him. It was against himself. Spy hated having a problem that a gun or a knife could not fix.

Mundy made a decision as his eyes followed Lucien going to his bathroom and locking the door, and the decision was the following: he would try different things and see what would work best, if anything did.

He started going to Medic for medical advice.

“So when did this start?”

“Can’t remember a night where I could sleep right to be honest.” Mundy lied. Obviously he slept like a log but he would never compromise his lover’s reputation and tell anyone that Spy had a problem.

“Interesting. And why come to me now? If this is something you have dealt with all your life, what pushed you to seek help now?” Medic asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“If you can patch gunshot wounds and broken bones within seconds with that medigun of yours then I reckon you can probably help with this too, eh?”

Medic smirked.

“But,” Sniper added. “I don’t wanna take tablets or stuff like that. I want you to tell me how I can fix it and go back to sleeping like I was when I was a kid.”

“Even more interesting.” Medic nodded to himself. “I can give you a few methods, but I can guarantee they won’t be as efficient as taking some prescription medicine.”

“That’s fine.”

“The other thing you should know is that you will need someone to do those things to you when those fits happen. I trust this is not an issue?”

Sniper slightly blushed. Of course Medic knew that he was spending his nights in Spy’s room, but this was the first time he heard it from him. He nodded.

“Yeah. Well, thanks, Doc’.” Sniper stood up and left.

The second person Sniper went to was Engie.

“So, where’s Spy? Usually you two come together on Friday nights?” The Texan asked.

It was true. To escape the ruckus of the Friday evening team celebrations, Sniper and Spy usually hid away in Engie’s garage. The beer tasted better when consumed in a quieter environment.

“D’you know what to do when someone has night terrors?” Sniper asked bluntly.

“You have night terrors?”

“Yeah.” Sniper lied. “I can’t sleep properly, I talk in my sleep. Sometimes I wake up in a sweat, and my whole body is tense.”

“Well, you’d better ask sawbones for these things. Can’t fix it with a contraption, I’m afraid.”

“So you don’t know?” Sniper asked and deep down, he was hiding a smile. He had learnt from Spy that if you wanted anything from Engie, it had to challenge his intellect; or if that failed, question it.

“From what I know, it really depends on what provokes the night terrors. I just know that for some people, it’s trauma; no easy fix for that.”

“What’s the hard fix then?” Sniper asked.

“Again, I don’t know much but here’s what I know…”

— Later —

Spy was reading in bed, his night lamp was on. It was past midnight and sleep started to fall on him gently but he could hear Sniper still in the shower. Ah, nevermind, the water just stopped.

The Frenchman distantly heard the bathroom door open. He switched his light off and put his book away before sliding down in his bed to lie down. He shut his eyes and waited to hear Sniper leave his suite.

Instead, the mattress lowered down. Spy rolled to see what was happening.

“What are you doing here?” He asked the tall, lanky man who was slipping in bed next to him.

“What does it look like? Fryin’ eggs?”

“I thought we agreed that you would sleep in your van?”

“Nah, you agreed on that on your own, I didn’t.” Mundy scooted closer to his lover and held him close.

“Mundy, you don’t have to-”

“Good night, luv’.” Mundy cut him and Lucien felt a kiss on his temple.

The Frenchman sighed and held Mundy’s hand in his.

That sense of peace vanished a few hours in the night, and Lucien started to babble and spasm. Mundy woke up and waited to see if his lover was calming down.

“Non…”

Mundy waited and listened.

“Non… Non!”

Lucien was definitely not calming down. The Aussie then applied his teammate’s advice. He rolled Lucien to make him lie on his back and lay on top of him, crushing him with his own weight.

“Nnh…”

The babbling subsided almost instantly, the spasming took longer but Mundy was patient. He grabbed some tissue from the bedside table and wiped Lucien’s sweaty brow.

“It’s alright… You ain’t alone anymore… I’m here with you…”

The spasms became less frequent, only the breathing was irregular now.

“Sssh… it’s alright.”

Mundy grabbed the bottle of water and hand towel he had brought on his bedside table and wet it before putting it on Lucien’s forehead. He immediately lay on him again afterwards.

Lucien’s breathing calmed down, and he eventually opened his eyes. The night light was on and he realised his brow was nice and cool.

“Mundy…?”

“You’re alright.”

“What is…? Wait…” Lucien gently pushed Mundy away and the Aussie obliged. “What is this doing on my forehead? And why were you sleeping on me?”

“You won’t believe me, but it worked.” The Aussie sat on his side of the bed, his back towards Lucien.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Sit up, luv’.” When Mundy turned to face Lucien again, the Aussie had a glass of water in his hand. “Here, drink this.”

Lucien obeyed without a second thought.

“I tried some stuff to help you calm down. It worked, with a bit of time.”

Lucien stopped drinking sharp.

“What did you do? Just crush me with your body?”

“Yeah, and cool you down.” Mundy answered.

Lucien sat up straight and put the now empty glass away.

“How did you know what to do?”

“I asked Medic and Engie.”

“You did what?!”

“Relax, I told them that it was for me.” Mundy answered. “And in any case, we trust Medic with our lives, which is mad enough. Can’t hurt to ask the crazy nurse.”

Lucien sighed.

“I suppose you are right. And it worked.”

“How d’you feel?”

“Different.”

“How?”

“Usually when I wake up after an episode, I am out of breath and exhausted. But now, I feel much better, barely any sweat, I am not breathing as if I just beat a sprinting world record… I… Thank you.” He looked Mundy in the eye.

“Yeah, no worries. It wasn’t hard.” Mundy answered and Lucien yawned. “Ready to sleep again?”

“Oui, I think so.”

“Right.” Mundy switched the night light off and slid down under the sheets. Lucien did the same.

“Mundy?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.”

The darkness made it easier for both of them to communicate, verbally and otherwise. Lucien rolled on his side and grabbed Mundy’s arm to pull him in. The Aussie found himself spooning his lover. He could not see it but Lucien rolled his eyes up in bliss before closing them. He could not get enough of the warmth, the embrace was comforting as much as it was calming for his nerves.

“Mundy?” He whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I…” Lucien cleared his throat. “May I be hugged please?”

“Course.”

With the weeks passing by, Lucien’s episodes became overall less violent. It was only on occasions that he would need to fully wake up. Most of the time, Mundy would lie on top of him and Lucien would barely wake up. The sleep talking and spasming became less frequent too. Not only that, but Lucien would ask for hugs more often in bed. And Mundy came to realise that the Frenchman, even with all his love conquests, was starved of any meaningful touch. No one held him for more than a few minutes after intercourse, and no one made him feel as safe as in Mundy’s arms.

“I owe you my peace of mind.”

“Can you do introductions with bits of context?” Mundy asked at the breakfast table.

“I could.” Lucien answered. “But I believe what I said is clear enough.”

“Makes no bloody sense to me but alright.” Mundy gave a chuckle.

“Yesterday night was the first night in more than forty years that I slept through without any stress.” Lucien said.

“I’m happy for you.” Mundy bent on his side and left a kiss on his lover’s temple before resuming the buttering of his toast.

“If there is anything I can do to repay this, please let me know, whatever it is.” Lucien answered. “Even if you think it is impossible to do it, I will make it happen.”

“Well,” The Aussie put his butter knife down. “There’s one thing I’ve really wanted but I’m not sure you or anyone can do it.”

“Please.” Lucien asked him to say whatever it was.

“Could you pass me that apricot jam over there?” Mundy smirked and Lucien rolled his eyes, nevertheless he passed him the jar.

“Mundy…”

“What? I really want that jam, y’know how much I like that on my toast, eh?”

They both chuckled and Mundy got caught off guard. Lucien himself initiated a kiss.

[skellseerwriting]

Changing VK lines from “Life is sweeter” from Rise of Red

disclaimer: I really like this song and it’s in my top three favorites from this movie. I mean no disrespect to the song writers, this is purely self-indulgence for my sake and potentially other fans. I also am NOT a song writer so what I change doesn’t necessarily fit better in other forms of the song (such as syllable stresses)

Feel free to debate/suggest different words or lines!

First off: Morgie Le Fay

This is the one I find the most beef with. For the first line we have:

“Son of Morgana, Serpentine” *insert serpent eyes and snake sounds*

I already talked about this with my moot, but the biggest problem I have with this is the fact his mom is called “Morgana”

Morgana is Ursula’s sister, so many people like myself assumed that’s who they meant. But this line is actually referring to Morgan Le Fay, who is a half fae enchantress (and half sister to King Arthur of Camelot.

my change to this will be to just say “Morgan” (to avoid confusion) and add an extra one-syllable word to make up for it.

“The son of Morgan”

Secondly! We have the “serpentine” bit. When looking up Morgan Le Fay, I could not find anything about her in relation to serpents (and there’s nothing on Morgie’s father) which makes the decision on giving Morgie a snake-like nature -along with the word- rather confusing and doesn’t make it make sense.

So, I’m cutting it out and replacing it with “a Le Fay” to maintain syllables AND add more clarity to who his mom is.

“The son of Morgan, a Le Fay”

lastly we have:

“Morgie’s the name, better run and hide”

I have no issues. Just going to change the last bit to rhyme but retain a similar meaning. Giving us:

“The son of Morgan, a Le Fay. Morgie’s the name better run away”

I’m going to do this to some of the other VK intro lines, but they’ll all be shorter than this one!

Part 2 (Hook)

Part 3 (Hades)

[oranoyaora]

mended

iv. anew

ft. timeskip!oikawa tooru

warning(s): I don’t think there are any?

notes: ummm so I haven’t written for like months and I’m sorry??? idk if I should leave it at that, or keep going? (mended ch. list)

•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

You had been stunned. You weren't expecting Oikawa to answer you, so when he did, you truly didn't know what to do next.

Silence.

"Look," you started, "I know it's been a really long time since we last talked, but..."

You really had no idea what to say.

"Um... I- sorry I..." you shook your head, brows furrowing as you sighed.

Silence followed again.

You looked down at your feet trying to remind yourself to be grounded and not chicken out. You finally got to this moment, and now you felt like running away and hiding under the covers of your comfortable bed.

You should've prepared more, you told yourself.

But really, how were you actually supposed to do that? You've worked yourself up so much, so many times just to get to where you are now.

"That's ok."

Your head whipped back up at Oikawa's response. That was much better than what you had initially imagined how it was going to go. The next sentence he threw at you almost made you stop breathing for a moment.

"I'm just really glad to hear your voice again."

You let out a sigh of relief. The unease you had felt going into this moment started to vanish. Oikawa's receptiveness made you start to let your guard down.

"Did I wake you," you asked softly.

"No," Oikawa rasped.

You silently chuckled, "You liar, I did, didn't I? I'm sorry."

"No, no, no, it's fine," the setter replied hastily.

Oikawa muttered something that you couldn't make out, prompting you to ask him what he said.

"I, uh, it's nothing," he shrugged, "I was just saying that I don't mind because it's you."

That made the corners of your lips tug up. He ended mumbling that last bit, but you could easily understand what he said.

"I'm really sorry for not keeping in touch, I-"

"Don't worry," Oikawa cut you off, "Iwa-chan had told me you were going through some things."

Your heart stopped for a second, "Did he tell you exactly what those things were?"

"No, he said that you would let me know when you were ready."

"Ah," you breathed, "ok."

"But, y/n..."

Oh how you missed your name being called out by him. Oikawa always had a teasing tone in his voice when he called you by your name. But this time, the teasing tone was absent. There was a tenderness that painted out the sound and syllables of your name.

"It's been almost two years... are you ok?"

Such a simple question. You knew Oikawa was being very careful. He was typically very nosy, but he was also very perceptive. That question cloaked a million other questions that Oikawa wanted ask.

It almost brought out some stray tears that had remained within you.

You smiled somberly, "I am now."

A comforting silence fell upon you two.

You're not sure what it was, but things were finally feeling right. Even after two years of not communicating with each other, you and Oikawa still seemed to be on the same page.

"Um," you were still a bit hesitant, "I also wanted to let you know that I found a job in Brazil."

This was definitely news. At first, Oikawa was excited to be in closer proximity to you after years of being thousands of miles apart. But then he realized that that bastard would be coming with you. Oikawa's excitement fizzled into something bitter.

The bitterness inside got the better of him.

"Oh, that's great," he quipped, "and I'm guessing what's-his-face is comin-"

"He's not in the picture anymore," you shut up Oikawa.

"Oh..."

That was all you had to say. Oikawa tried filling in the blanks, but didn't push you further. Don't get him wrong, Oikawa was definitely shocked. But the selfish part of him found a silver lining in your situation.

"Anyways," you softly deflected, "I just thought it would be nice to meet up when we both have the time."

The silver lining being the second chance that Oikawa never thought he was going to ever get. The initial bitterness he felt reverted back to excitement.

Oikawa sat up, propping himself against the headboard of his bed, "Yes."

He thinks he might've said that too quickly.

"I mean, uh, yeah," he tried to smoothly play it off, "just let me know when you get to Brazil, and I'll find time for you."

That last bit made you smile again.

"Oh, I, uh, forgot to mention that I'm already living in Brazil," you sheepishly said.

"Oh," Oikawa started, "well, that's perfect."

"Really?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Yeah," he said before whispering, "really perfect."

You were glad that the two of you were only on a phone call. If Oikawa saw how bashful you looked now, he would ruin the mood with his endless teasing.

On the other end, Oikawa fell into a dreamy state. He couldn't believe this was real. It wasn't until now did he realize how much he yearned to talk to you again.

Knowing that you currently live in the same continent as him made Oikawa nearly evaporate. What were the odds that you suddenly appeared so close to him when the two of you seemed like strangers.

"Ok," you felt a little giddy, "well I'll let you go since it's late."

"I don't mind," the setter bluntly stated.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Oikawa reassured you, "I have the day off tomorrow anyways."

"Ah, but I don't want to take up time during your day off-"

"Y/n."

"Yes?"

"I'm telling you that I want to stay up and talk to you," Oikawa resolutely stated.

You paused before attempting to convince Oikawa that you wanted to respect his time again.

He wanted to do these things for you. When was the last time someone had done that for you? Oikawa desired to stay up late because he got to talk to you and hear your voice. Because it's you.

Something pleasant bubbled up inside you as a grin broke out onto your face. You're glad Oikawa made it clear to you. Why?

... because you both ended up talking until the sun started to rise.

[redsevendiamonds]

OnlyOneOf TVnavi SMILE vol.45 interview

Scans by aveariax @ twitter

Translation under cut

page 01 & 02

After their debut in Korea on May 28th, 2019, and their long-awaited Japanese debut on May 18th of this year, OnlyOneOf is appearing for the first time in our magazine! The six members of this boy group whose name unashamedly means "being someone's one and only" charm onlookers with their sexy dance skills and emotional singing. We went looking for their true faces.

page 03 - KB x Yoojung

KB

Born 1992/04/23, Korean. Producer and vocalist

Yoojung

Born 1997/05/29, Korean. Main dancer

Something that fills your heart with peace?

KB: To have been able to come to Japan and meet Japanese lyOns (OnlyOneOf fans) directly. I'm so happy to have been able to see everyone at last!

Yoojung: When I'm eating Japanese convenience store desserts. I love desserts with fresh cream. They're different from the ones in Korean convenience stores, and there's a lot more of them in Japan. When I eat something delicious I feel happy!! And at peace.

What do you call each other?

Yoojung: I call him "Kyu"! Right?

KB: Right, "Yoo"! (laughs) We call each other by our first syllables.

Tell us about an episode that deepened your relationship.

Yoojung: We're often paired together in songs and music videos, so…

KB: Right, you can say it's a business relationship. (laughs)

Yoojung: What, no it's not! We really are close!!

KB: That sounds suspicious somehow. (laughs)

Yoojung: But it's true!! Our friends and family are always like, "Wow, you two get along so well ~"

KB: We even watched Netflix together yesterday ~

Yoojung: Right! We're close!

So how do you want your relationship to grow in the future?

Yoojung: … No one knows what the future holds.

KB: What!? We really are close!! (laughs)

page 04 - Rie x Junji

Junji

Born 1998/04/06, Korean. Lead dancer and vocal

Rie

Born 1996/11/06, Korean. Lead dancer and vocal

Something that fills your heart with peace?

Rie: I love watching the Japanese scenery go by from the window of a moving car. I also love the city atmosphere, seeing those sights makes me feel peaceful and happy. And of course, eating delicious Japanese foods makes me happy.

Junji: I also love the drives in Japan. The special sights heal your heart. And also, the draft beer is delicious in Japan no matter what!! I was moved by how delicious it is. Drinking draft beer is absolutely a happy time!

What do you call each other?

Rie: Junji.

Junji: Rie. Simple as that.

Tell us how you feel about your relationship.

Junji: Rie is so kind. Even in Japanese, when there's something I don't know, he'll explain it to me properly. By thinking about choreography together we got closer, during those times he'd also teach me thoroughly until I could do it. He's got such an easy to get along with personality, I respect it.

Rie: Junji gives off such a soft impression, and he's always so kind. And his face is cute, so just looking at him makes you feel happy! (laughs)

Is there something you'd like to do to get even closer?

Junji: Rie loves fishing, I'd like to go together and exchange more deeply!

Rie: I really want to go fishing together one day.

page 05 - Mill x Nine

Nine

Born 1999/12/13, Korean. Beatmaker and vocal

Mill

Born 1999/03/30, Korean. Rapper

Something that fills your heart with peace?

Mill: Japanese sights are healing. The sceneries are beautiful, and the sights during our concert were also beautiful. And what made me happiest was to be able to meet Japanese lyOns face to face. To be able to do a concert in Japan and meet lyOns made me so happy I could cry.

Nine: Right now, the Japanese concert is the best thing. We haven't been able to go to Japan since our debut. We were so happy to have been able to see our Japanese lyOns singing, dancing and laughing!

What do you call each other?

Mill: I generally call him Nine.

Nine: "Yongsoo" or "Soo-ya". I call Mill by his real name. Soo-ya ~

How do you feel when you're both together?

Mill: Nine is the only one in the group who's the same age as me, so he's irreplaceable in that I can connect with him without reserve. Thinking about choreography together is always a fun time too.

Nine: When I'm with Mill, I can't stop laughing. We're laughing nonstop!! I talk a lot, but Mill talks even more than me and always makes me laugh. Everything about him makes me laugh: words, attitude, body…

Mill: (laughs)!! We also have similar hobbies like sports and going to the movies, so the time we spend together is so fun. Last time we went shooting and I lost, so I want my revenge.

Nine: We sleep in the same room in the dorms as well. Our relationship is the result of all the time we've spent together, so I'll leave it to the flow from here on as well. (laughs)

page 06 - KB x Yoojung x Nine TALK

What are your roles in the group?

KB: I'm the eldest brother of the group, and I also write songs.

Yoojung: I dance, and I'm in charge of maintaining OnlyOneOf's gentle image.

Nine: I compose, and I'm the moodmaker.

What do you think OnlyOneOf's charm points are?

KB: That our works have a clearly-defined concept, that our songs go from intense to delicate, and that they reflect the members' points of view. Nine participated in both the composition and lyrics of "suit dance".

Nine: Right! We'll be happy if lots of people buy our CD and listen to our music.

Yoojung: In "suit dance", there's a dance move where we take a handkerchief out of our breast pockets… We failed at it many times. But the hardest was the scene where Nine takes off and places back Junji's jacket!

Nine: It was hard! One time I couldn't grab it, and danced as though I was holding it.

Yoojung: The jackets were sticky with sweat. But Nine's "pantomime" was excellent and I could see the jacket even though it wasn't there. (laughs)

KB: He was really good. I enjoyed it as a viewer too.

Your dancing has a lot of shine.

Yoojung: Maybe because it reflects our members' specific presences and auras?

KB: It's because we're good-looking! (laughs)

Yoojung: It's a job where we charm people. We become popular by being aware of our appearances from the start.

KB: But Nine doesn't seem to particularly care…

Nine: Huh!?

KB: I think what leads to popularity is an environment where everyone has their respective strengths but can exchange feedback.

Nine: We're very close, so we're good at feedback.

KB: It's because we've lived together such a long time.

Nine: But I don't sleep in the same room as KB? I'm in the "fun room" with Mill and Rie. They're in the… Sleep-talking room. (laughs)

KB: I'm the type who doesn't mind sleep-talking. (laughs)

Yoojung: This is who we are.

You're also popular on social media!

Nine: I'm always monitoring, on the lookout for trends.

KB: My social media style is future-oriented. I take pictures wearing alien clothes.

Nine: Alien, was it… (laughs)

Yoojung: My social media specialty is self-deprecating content where I make people laugh with my expressions. I think it's funniest.

So what are OnlyOneOf's goals now?

KB: To continue coming out with a better work than the previous one with each release, and to become number one. It's a tough path, but that's why it's our goal. For our first Japanese concert everyone was so kind, and we're thankful for this dreamlike moment. We'll make sure to return all those blessings!

Yoojung: The goal is to always grow! The next time we come to Japan, I want to be able to talk in Japanese.

Nine: We'll do our best to express in our performances how thankful we are for everyone! And we'll become the best artists, no matter the field!!

page 06 - Rie x Junji x Mill TALK

Please introduce each other's special characteristics.

Junji: Mill is a crybaby! Every time he sees lyOns he starts crying.

Mill: Rie is so cool on stage whether he dances or raps, he's a big brother you can respect, but when he gets off stage he's a baby. (laughs)

Rie: Junji has a very sexy voice, is good at singing and dancing, he's a perfect artist on stage, but when he gets off stage he's also a baby. (laughs) Everyone is pure and free.

What are your positions in the group?

Mill: I bring sweetness and jokes.

Rie: Mill is like Shin-chan in Crayon Shin-chan!

Junji: People say I'm a cat-like person.

Mill: He really has the personality of a cute cat!

Rie: I'm comfortable and soft.

Junji: Rie really has a good, kind personality, so everyone likes him.

Your favourite food in Japan?

Rie: Gyuukatsu and Ichiran ramen! Also Japanese cup ramens are really elaborate and delicious. And I want to try seafood dishes in Tsukiji [famous Tokyo fish market].

Mill: Me too, when I ate gyuukatsu and ramen it was delicious to the point of passing out.

Junji: Gyuukatsu and draft beer!!

Mill: Beer is delicious!

Do you have a favourite Japanese word or sentence?

Rie: "Could I ask for a towel?" "Would it be possible to clean up now?" (laughs)

Junji: I really like "I'm so happy".

Mill: "_ shika katan" ["_ is the best", slang phrase that's also part of stan lingo]

Tell us about something that happened while creating your Japanese debut song, "suit dance (Japanese ver.)"

Rie: We wanted to pick a song that would fit a performance in suits, while aiming for a simple yet adult feeling.

Mill: OnlyOneOf has a lot of intense songs, and while this one is quieter, it's also an adult song where you can feel intensity hidden inside.

Junji: When we heard it, we thought of inserting a dance using jackets. The jacket dance between Nine and I is a highlight!

Rie: There's a lyric that goes, "Get lost into me just a little more, I'll whisper in your ear Listen up, Come and sink deeper." The vocals are very heartrending.

Junji: The lyrics I sing, "Your very gait is off, Like you've got all the time in the world Lay back, So detached as always" are very visual so I like them a lot.

Mill: I love both the melody and the feel of the lyrics of the "suit dance, suit dance" part.

So what are OnlyOneOf's goals now?

Junji: We were so happy to debut in Japan, so we want to become artists who can progress even more and make everyone happy.

Rie: The Japanese concert was such a happy time, I'd like to be able to perform at Tokyo Dome one day.

Mill: To work hard to make and sing many good songs so that OnlyOneOf's songs can be known throughout the world. lyOns, please support us! We love you!!

[coredrill]

perhaps my most insane collection of brvn thots yet

do we think lulu is from the moon. i think this for three reasons. one: when she told superbia she was going to ride him the moon was quite large and prominent in the shot. symbolism. two: when she got her fancy hairdo, she had two little buns that looked like moons. three: “lulu” could come from “luna” the same way it could come from the first syllable of smith’s name. why would she become spanish? don’t worry abt it. also if she’s from there then maybe the “final battle” which obari allegedly said would take place in an unexpected location will indeed be on the moon (pls dont ask for a source on this bc i don’t think i could find it again but it was one of the like. EARLY early interviews iirc. or it was just a rumor. this part of the post is a joke anyways LMAO). however this IS a super robot show so i feel like the moon in general is actually a more expected location for me than like. idk. cleveland

everyone pointing out the animation differences maybe indicating different timelines is so funny to me cause like. if it’s NOT intentional, the fans are putting together a list of fixes to make for the bluray on a silver platter LMAO. also god i hope we get a western bluray release, i honestly am considering getting the jp one if it somehow winds up w eng subs though just cause i know it’s such a long shot for CRUNCHYROLL of all motherfuckers to put one together 🥲 discotek ur our only hope………………

i keep thinking abt the like. pacing of the previous fight scenes being reused in ep9 in such a smart way…………like with smith/lulu v superbia - isami/bravern v cupiridas AND with smith/lulu v knuth - isami/bravern v pessimism/vanitas they kept doing the quick jumps between each of the two fights in a way that made it clear that isami and smith were in conversation even if they were doing completely different shit, and then bringing that completely to the forefront this ep while isami is asking smith why he died and at the same time smith is refusing to die bc of his promise with isami. BLEW MY FUCKIN MIND to see the pattern reused like that, i swear to GOD everyone talks about how fun and hype this show is but it’s so damn GOOD too 😭😭 and then after that the fuckin. symmetrical docking ass cut and then later the gattai which has been held off for SO long bc they are no longer separate conversations. JESUS

called my shots too early tho w smith not melting ppl’s minds in a kaworu manner where they convolute the story x1000 to try to make him seem straight 😭 congrats white boy, your days are numbered until ppl start saying you love isami like he’s your pet dog……….also in a related fashion the giant naked smith fanarts are taking me out LMAO

you can tell idk shit abt fuck when it comes to time travel fuckery cause i rly am just here like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ atp LMAO, the serious theorizing is GONE. i trust the show to finish out in a satisfying manner and also in a way that my pea brain can understand and i’m rly looking forward to savouring these last 3 episodes :] and then rewatching the whole thing from the beginning once the remaining twists have been revealed and i Know :3 like not to get way too sentimental w 3 whole episodes left but we are so lucky to be following this story in real time you guys 😭 like i’m just gonna put the same post i made back after episode ONE here cause it’s true but times a million with what we’ve seen so far, truly this is such a special experience to have and i’m so glad this show waited until i got into mecha to get made so that i could like. Understand it yknow. anyways good for january 14 2024 version of me, you are so excited andyet still have NO idea the kind of treat you are in for 😭

“lewis” jumpscare tho omg. i forgot it took me like a week to figure out what the hell was goin on with all the characters first and last names LMAO. anyways everybody go look at sumiisa sekiha love love tenkyouken right now i am no longer asking

[postwarlevi]

First child self ship

I'm going to try to do one big SS a month like I used to. I hope you want to do this one!

Um so this is not about pregnancy so skipping that part. Think of this as 0 to 1 year or so :) If you like it maybe we can do more like this!

Also if you're not tagged you are still welcome to do this! I never know who wants to be tagged.

Who are you shipping with?

1 Is it a boy or girl (twins?!) and their name(s) and what you call them.

2 How did you come up with their name?

3 What was their first word?

4 What is their favorite toy and / or activity?

5 What tv show / movie do they watch repeatedly?

6 What is their favorite baby food / meal?

7 What is their favorite bedtime story?

8 What finally gets them to sleep after crying all night?

9 Who caves easier when they cry?

10 Who is the stricter parent?

11 What is your favorite activity to do as a family?

12 Who was their first friend outside the household?

13 Who does more of the gross things? (change diaper)

14 How was the first time you left them with someone (and who was it?)

15 Any future children planned?

my answers below the cut!

I'm guessing these will get long so use the read more, and also please don't repost without the original.

Who are you shipping with?

My modern love, Jean

1 Is it a boy or girl (twins?!) and their name(s).

It's a girl! Jane Eloise. We both call her our little princess a lot. Otherwise it's Jane.

2 How did you come up with their name?

I wanted something classic and nothing was hitting with Jean, then I suggested Jane and he thought it sounded like Jean and immediately liked it. I like longer syllables names with shorter ones and we both liked that Eloise is close to Eliza :)

3 What was their first word?

After thinking it was going to be dada, one day our pup Murphy came into the room and she clear as day said dog! Jean was heartbroken LOL

4 What is their favorite toy and / or activity?

Playing on her play pad with Murphy is her favorite activity. She coos at him and bats at the toys, and he is so protective over her and alerts us if she tries to roll off. Her favorite toy is a a little stuffed grey rabbit from her aunt Sasha.

5 What tv show / movie do they watch repeatedly?

She adores Snow White! It's the sweetest thing. Not even the witch scares her! We're kind of picky about shows so she goes old school with Sesame Street. We're not quite sick of either just yet.

6 What is their favorite baby food / meal?

She loves banana baby food and we can make that ourselves easily. She now also loves oatmeal. When we mix them together her face lights up at the taste.

7 What is their favorite bedtime story?

She loves when her daddy reads anything. She loves the sound of his voice. Goodnight Moon is probably the favorite though.

8 What finally gets them to sleep after crying all night?

Walking in place while holding her. It can be either of us but she goes to sleep faster for me. It's tiring at 3am but at least I get my exercise! We just ordered an automatic swing and hope that helps!

9 Who caves easier when they cry?

It's a toss up, we're both a little soft. Being our first child we kind of coddle her. I think Jean caves faster though, but not by much.

10 Who is the stricter parent?

Again, a toss up. I was a little more pushy about Jane bottle feeding when she was old enough, but Jean tries to stick to the schedule more. It depends.

11 What is your favorite activity to do as a family?

Walks in the park! Jane can be sleeping the whole time if it's a quiet morning or more alert in the evening before bed and we point out wildlife and she loves watching the squirrels and daddy Jean play around with pup Murphy.

12 Who was their first friend outside the household?

She has lots of friends now but technically her first play time was with @charlotteplsdosth and Reiners baby girl at their house where we put soft toys down and let them interact side by side. (you can have a totally different answer that's fine LOL)

13 Who does more of the gross things? (change diaper)

Jean does a lot. It's really sweet actually. He knows my gag reflex is non existent so does more of those type things, while also complaining a bit haha.

14 How was the first time you left them with someone (and who was it?)

We left her with uncle Levi and his wife and child. We knew they'd take good care of her and we could have an afternoon to ourselves but we kept checking our phones and it was difficult that first time. After a handful of times with them and then Jeans mom, we calmed down.

15 Any future children planned?

Um, yes. We already know we're having another girl! Lavinia Claire! And Jean is already telling me we're going to be trying for a boy at some point. No matter what I'm done after three though!

tagging: no pressure if it's not your thing!

@levisbrat25 @charlotteplsdosth @chaotic-on-main @humanitys-strongest-bamf @einnyl @perkypink19-blog @levi-supreme @mootheskinnycowsblog @theferricfox @ladycheesington @jayteacups

[lalaithion]

Ranking the Sindarization of the Names of the House of Finwe

A completely objective list

The Good

Irissë -> Aredhel. Look, Irissë is a great name, but Aredhel, pronounced properly, with a voiced "th" sound, like in "this", and a tapped "r", like a "r" in Spanish or Italian, just sounds so wonderful. (Actually, can we talk about this? English speakers tend to refer to both the tapped r and the trilled r as "the trilled r", so which is it? Most of the written sources say “trilled r”, but most of the speaking samples I can find just tap the r instead of fully trilling it.)

Artanis Nerwen -> Galadriel. Artanis and Nerwen are both just such boring names. Galadriel has four syllables each more awesome than the last. High Queen of the Noldor in my heart.

Nelyafinwë Maitimo -> Maedhros. Not that I dislike either of his Quenya names, but (with the same pronunciation notes as Aredhel) Maedhros just sounds so cool. And yes, the fact that he's a war criminal with the name "sexy readhead" is just too funny.

The Meh

Curufinwë Fëanoró -> Feanor. Boring! You just cut the "ó" off the end. Feanor doesn't do anything by halves except this. Okay, granted, his family did this to him – he was a linguist, I'm confident he could have done better if he had been a better tactician.

Turcafinwë Tyelkormo -> Celegorm. These are all good names. Alright, the "finwe" theme of Feanor's father names are really bad, but his mother name and his Sindar name are both good. Still, Tyelkormo is better.

Morifinwë Carnistir -> Caranthir. Yeah, these are both fine. I personally have a hard time actually pronouncing "Carnistir" correctly without tripping on the unfamiliar-to-english combination of the tapped r and the n (It's not pronounced like carnage! You need to tap the r).

Curufinwë Atarincë -> Curufin. Once again, Boring! Maybe I shouldn't be so confident that Feanor could have done better than his family, if Curufin is also just going to cut off the last vowel.

Telufinwë Ambarussa -> Amras. Abarussa is a super cute name for the twins to call each other and for others to refer to them as a group, but this is better Sindar name of the twins, so it gets to go in meh.

Ñolofinwë Aracáno -> Fingolfin. Thank Eru he went with his father name instead of his mother name; Argon is a bad name for a minor character but it would be even worse for the High King of the Noldor.

Arafinwë Ingoldo -> Finarfin. Not great, not awful. I can't help but think of dogs for the "arf", but in honesty he does sound like the cuddliest of Finwë's sons.

Artaresto -> Orodreth. Both good names. Nothing to see here.

The Bad

Findekáno -> Fingon. Oh my god. Findekáno is great and this name change sucks. Why did you do this to me, Tolkien.

Turukáno -> Turgon. Okay, at least Findekanó is doing better than his brother. Whenever I see Turgon my brain autocompletes it to "turgid", which is not a good epessë to be carrying around.

Kanafinwë Macalaurë -> Maglor. Once again, what a loss. Macalaurë is so fun and beautiful to say out loud. Maglor sounds like a depressing brand name from the 50s.

Arakáno -> Argon. That's an element dude. Also another "gon", which sucks.

Ambaráto Aikanáro -> Aegnor. Not as bad as the upcoming Rods, but. It's still bad.

Angaráto Angamaitë -> Angrod. This is the first of the Rods, which round out the end of this list.

Pityafinwë Ambarussa/Umbarto/Ambarto -> Amrod. Another Rod, so nothing needs to be said.

Findaráto Ingoldo -> Finrod. It's just so bad. I'm sorry, I just can't deal with this one.

[ezrisdax-archive]

study buddies

also here on ao3 (spoilers for s4 finale)

“So,” Tendi drew out the last syllable, “How’s the studying going? Do you need any help? Because I’m here to help, I will be so much help, I-”

“This is counterproductive to being helpful.” T’Lyn cut her off in the same dry manner that Tendi recognized from other Vulcans. “Your time would be better spent studying your own modules.”

Tendi didn’t bother to contain her squeal. “I’ve always wanted a Vulcan lecture on studying!”

That made T’Lyn pause and actually looked up from the padd she was looking at. “That seems…illogical.”

Tendi gasped, squealing again, “And I’ve always wanted a Vulcan to call me illogical! This is so cool!”

There was another pregnant pause before T’Lyn put down her padd and turned to face to Tendi. “I believe it would be best to get what you ‘have always wanted’ regarding Vulcans out of the way so we can pursue our work without distraction. What else have you ‘always wanted’?” T’Lyn tilted her head. “And do you use instinct for this?”

“Oh yeah, totally, mostly I just go with how I’m feeling even if how I’m feeling is like, a total mess. Well I mean not always because sometimes how I’m feeling is like…the stereotypical Orion stuff and I don’t want to be only seen as that you know?” Tendi rambled, “Oh no, have I messed up? What if you don’t want to do stereotypical Vulcan stuff and I’m making you! T’Lyn I’m so so sorry-”

T’Lyn held up a hand, having learned early it was the best way to cut Tendi off. “I feel no attachment to…Vulcan stuff. It is one such problem that led my superiors to assigning me to Starfleet.”

“Oh.” Tendi reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. And not just for a study buddy. I think you’ve got some really great ideas we can implement to boost the tricorders.”

“You read my notes?”

Tendi winced, pulling her hand back. “They were just lying around and I thought it was my padd at first and…sorry?” She offered again.

“You do not need to continue to apologise. You believe my process has merit then?”

“Definitely, we should totally pitch this to the Captain, I bet she’d agree.”

T’Lyn looked down at the padd in question and then back up to Tendi. “Thank you.” She opened her mouth to say something else but thought better of it.

Tendi beamed at her. “And if you have any other ideas you can bounce them off me! We’re partners now.” She stuck out her hand to grab T’Lyn’s and shook it.

“Is this symbolic of something?” T’Lyn asked, looking at their hands.

“It’s the beginning of the best science era in Starfleet history!” Tendi exclaimed. “I think we’ll be amazing.”

“I see.” T’Lyn hesitantly curled her fingers around Tendi’s and shook then pulled her hand free. “You were stating before that you had things you always wanted to do with a Vulcan, is forming a partnership one of them?”

“It wasn’t on the list but it’s at the top now!” Tendi said, laughing, “But there’s loads, like, playing baseball with a Vulcan, I read about it on a plaque on Deep Space Nine, and also oooo, cuisine of course but like not replicated not that replicated is bad but I want to experience it from the source!”

“It really isn’t that different-“

“And Pon Farr.”

T’Lyn froze. “You wish…to experience Pon Farr.”

“Well yeah,” Tendi laughed again. “But only with a Vulcan girlfriend or boyfriend and if they’re cool with that. I totally get if they’re not.”

T’Lyn opened her mouth and shut it again. Tendi continued to ramble but the words ran right over her. “You are most illogical.” She finally said. “But if you prove be a worthy partner perhaps that is something we can look in to. Years down the line.”

“Really?” Tendi’s voice got high, her hands flying everywhere as she tackled T’Lyn. “Does this mean we’re dating.”

“Perhaps.” T’Lyn said with as much dignity she could manage from being tackled to the floor. “It means I will consider if such feelings are worth evaluating.”

“So, so, scientifical.” Tendi flopped to the side, finally letting T’Lyn go. “Best day ever. Science and a girlfriend. Don’t worry, I’ll be the best girlfriend possible.” Tendi promised and then sat up. “Oh I should research that! Research session!”

“I thought that’s what a study session was for.” T’Lyn began but Tendi was already up and rushing out of the room, calling Rutherford’s name in excitement with her news.

T’Lyn watched her go, idly wondering what she’d gotten herself in to.

It wouldn’t be so bad however, instinct – whether logical to her other Vulcans or not – told her that this could turn out to be an interesting endeavor.

T’Lyn was certainly up to the challenge.

She glanced at the doorway again and then pulled out another padd, quietly researching herself what made a good girlfriend.

It was after all a logical idea.

[wellmetmat]

Idle chatter about a beloved webnovel below; cut just for length.

Unsong, which I love, is silent on one possible nexus of wordplay so near its thematic centre that now and then I wonder what the silence means. That it could mean nothing seems improbable.

We know what singers are, within the story. Aaron tells us plainly: a cantor is someone who works with infinity. A singer is someone who tries to be good.

("Those who speak the Names of God aloud are called cantors and singers. Like everything, these terms have both overt and kabbalistic meanings.")

They're called singers overtly because those who speak the functionally magical Names of God without regard to copyright had better get them right, and the Names are inconveniently unmemorable strings of syllables rather than semantic units, so those who learn and teach them illicitly set them to music and sing them. This is a sensible real-world technique for working with the human memory.

(It would probably work at least as well to use the Dominic system of memorisation: assign each Hebrew letter a character, an action and an object, and thus memorise the Names as silly stories. Aaron uses something like it on the fly when he's a prisoner of UNSONG-the-organisation. I practised a variant of it a couple of years ago, and found it helpful for remembering numbers; I worked up to being able to write out the first three hundred digits of pi from memory for a while, from a starting point where I often forgot four-digit passcodes, and after two years lapsed from practice it's still fairly easy to recall the first hundred. But if the singers did this they would be tellers instead; also a world-shaping vocation, but the shape of the world would be different and Aaron would lose his unique kabbalistic resonance.)

They're singers kabbalistically, in the terms of the story, because they pursue the ultimate utilitarian crusade, to end Hell.

But they're singers etymologically - a tremendous source of power in the Unsong universe! - because they work magic and singing used to be interchangeable with sorcery, that's what it meant, an incantation is a chant and a charm is also a chant and a cantor is an enchanter. And the narration doesn't even pun about it.

("A pragmatic account, utterly without reference to a two-thousand-year-old tradition of using the aleph to signify God." Yeah, Teller, a fanciful but persuasive account, utterly without reference to the several-thousand-year-old tradition of using words meaning 'sing' to signify the basic operations of magic!)

And - why not? I can't believe that it's too obvious. That underrates how interesting an interesting teller can make anything. Aaron uses the punchline to a time-worn folk story as his exit one-liner to an enemy, and it's cool because it's obvious (just slightly in advance) what he's about to do; he's a pattern-finder extraordinaire and he's found a pattern in the situation and when he completes it with a statement that fits there it's very satisfying. Aaron wrote a lengthy kabbalistic exegesis of the children's song 'There's a Hole in my Bucket', and we liked it. His interestingness credentials are solid. If he wanted to point out that in his world magicians have returned to their ancient roots as singers after an interlude roughly corresponding to the existence of civilisation during which people got sidetracked searching for power in the written word, cut off from its sound qualities (in older forms of English, a 'spell' is a prose story), nobody would scorn it as too simple.

Plus, the postulated PIE root meaning 'sing' is 'kan'. Singing converges at the phonetic level with ability itself, general ability to do anything at all! What greater indication could show up in the interconnected structure of everything that singing equals power?

(The word 'incentive' also derives from this root, which is striking and amusing. I had to look this one up. It seems like such a dry, modern word. But it comes from the Latin for 'setting the tune'. Those influenced by incentives are going along with the pitch set by an unseen singer. Aaron is choir director for his local chapter of secret magicians, who will go forth and teach others incantations, most likely at the pitch they were taught. He should be awed by the implications.)

So I haven't got much further with working out why the book about people altering the universe by playing with words doesn't play with such a fruitful cluster of words, resonant with a double meaning that's central to it. Is it to do with the implied equation: [someone who tries to be good] = [someone who acts, who wields power to change things]? That is, in fact, at the moral heart of the story, as the Comet King's ethos. But locally, wordplay around subjects of cosmic significance is generally held to be virtuous.

(Constraints of the author's chosen structure simply making it hard to fit every possible joke in is of course possible, too.) Other fans' theories would be welcome!

[tutuandscoot]

Day 9: Nationals Moment

There have been so many wonderful moments from their nationals, to the unbridled joy of their junior title- embracing in that hug at the end like the happiest little kiddos in the world, to the sheer disappointment of missing Olympic qualification in 2006- devastating at the time but it became a defining moment in their careers, setting them on a course to become the multiple time over champions that they would. Their first senior win, returning after surgery (Scott saying ‘I’m so proud of you’ on repeat), the child-like excitement in 2017- their comeback year and being so genuinely ecstatic about regaining their title.

But for this post I’m going to talk about their last nationals, specifically the very end moments of their final free dance.

This moment has been gifed several times over and I’m sure many of us have cried several times over it. Firstly, the way he embraces her as he gets her out of their end pose. Literally cradling her like a baby, resting her on his shoulder and holding her so so close, cradling her head, seemingly crying into her shoulder for a brief moment- desperate to regain air in his lungs which for some reason he finds most abundant in the crook of her neck. Just this overwhelming sense of love and protection but then of course bc they’re adults this feeling that they just want their bodies to be one, this needing to love each other with every fibre of their beings in that moment of their lives that they’ll never forget- they could tell in the moment; they weren’t naive to the magnitude of it, they wanted to feel every emotion radiating out of themselves and share that together. I also just have to say what a good fucking job to both the camera operator and the editor (person calling the angles live) because while I hate they cut away afterwards to the audience so we missed the fact that he was actually patting her back while in this embrace (🥺😫) prior to that the way it zooms out to reveal the expanse of the elated crowd standing as if they’ve been shot with a bolt of lightning, flowers and gifts diving onto the ice, retrievers already out there for the expected tsunami of gifts to pick up, it’s a great shot that captures a great moment.

Next the angle from the back of her still being cradled in that hug. Her beautiful, sparkling eyes listening to those special words he whispers just for her- there’s no chance anyone but her will ever know what he said (frankly it was dumb of them to try and ask) but whatever it was it made her eyes light up like this. The way she clings on so delicately- she does not like to be seen as delicate but in this it’s the sense that she is in the safest, happiest place she could possible be and doesn’t have to worry about being strong or brave bc he is holding her up so her she can just take a moment to be small and held and seconds later can bow to the crowd chanting her name for the athletic feat they just accomplished. You can also see so briefly that I think she gives a slight nod, indicating he must have told her something warranting/initiating an affirmative response from her. It’s slight and it could also be him patting her back at that moment causing her to shake slightly, but either way she is hearing and accepting every syllable of those words and putting it safe in her heart.

As they take all their bows, as we’ve already established it is he that determines how they go about this, he ‘instructs’ her to circle round and thank all of the crowd once more. This has such a ‘finality’ to it. The last time they competed for their country in their country. They are so incredibly patriotic; they love their country, it’s people, it’s values, this final nationals would’ve been such a rollercoaster of emotions for them-in a sense saying goodbye to their country as (some of) it’s most adored representatives. Canada’s sweethearts stepping off home competitive ice for the final time.

Then as part of this, beautiful T, waving with one hand, the other on her heart, saying thank you.. again they are the most humble, gracious, incredible people, saying thank you to a nation for the last 20 years of their lives, some not knowing who they were for all of those, but TS feeling that their whole country truly was with them- they don’t lie when they say how proud they are to be Canadian and the enormous amount of gratitude that they have for everyone who supported them- that so honestly highlighted in a moment like this: the genuine, heartfelt gratitude.

The moment I’d like to give the most spotlight to in this post though is this one here:

After they have turned to the back to bow, turning looking at each other, almost a sense of immediate realisation, then T going to him, almost falling into him and he immediately holding her, almost rocking her on his shoulder as he whispers to her again.

As I do sometimes, I totally understand what is actually going on in these moments, but I like to interpret them a bit differently just because.. idk I like to experience the wide range of emotions they would be feeling and bc they have this incredibly unique and beautiful relationship it’s fun to continue to interpret their interactions as artists even after they have stopped dancing, so maybe not describing exactly what they are actually feeling, but may be feeling.

The way he embraces her.. the look his eyes as he does so, it’s like in that moment the realisation hits- this is the last time (at home). In his eyes there is fear, sadness, a moment to feel the gravity of the moment and that all this is coming to an end, an almost ‘life flashing before his eyes’ moment- holding her there, her heart pressed against his as it had been hundreds of thousands of times before, this lifetime spent together and feeling more this moment will be one of many, but as they are at the pinnacle of both their craft and their understanding of their partnership, perhaps it’s an even more pivotal one then many that had come before. And as it seems it is she that goes to him, he embraces her in a way I interpret as even though he is feeling all these things, the tiniest sense of fear in his eyes, he holds her to him as if saying ‘I know you’re scared, but I promise everything will be ok and I’ll protect you’.. being brave for her, shielding her from any harm. By T’s expression from the other side of this it was not fear she was feeling- she is smiling and overwhelmed with emotions just like him- and this is not to say Scott is feeling fear or sadness in this moment either, it’s just the brief look in his eyes as he goes to hold her- as is the sense most of the time when she is in his arms is this utmost protection of her, even if he is feeling scared or sad and needs her more than anything for himself to feel safe, the visual in this moment of tiny little T feeling so safe to go to him in a moment of overwhelming emotion and him no matter what he’s feeling to hold her like he’ll never let anything harm her.. together alone on this big sheet of ice- feeling the support of the nation showering praise and adulation onto their champions- the only thing TS have to cling onto physically in that moment to understand and feel present in that moment is each other- so that’s what they do.. ahh 🥺🥹

[seth-shitposts]

Small dump about The Aphelion Waltz

I very much look forward to this fic. And I want to talk about it.

be warned, if you want to read it completely spoiler free, don't read below the cut. However, if you want bits of info about the AU, feel free to continue.

-For this AU, the clone wars still happened, but Palpatine was exposed before he could finish the war as planned, so the republic still stands and the Empire never took off.

I am aware that this is opening way for a lot of plot holes that we will not be covering in the fic. I don't have the energy to plot out&write this fic AND cover all those plot holes of canon, so just bare with us. {Seth has much more knowledge on the SW universe as whole, but my own is much more limited]

-Mon Mothma is an ambassador for her home planet, frequently works on coruscant. -Kallus never left coruscant, as with the fact that the empire never swept through the lower levels for recruition, he never was given the chance. In the fic, we will explore what he has done instead. Because of this, there will be a lot of aspects of his characterization that are very different from canon, because the entire course of his and so many other character's lives were altered by the empire. And I just think it'll be neat to explore. Some core parts of him will remain the same, some will not. We look forward to showing you in the fic. -The Lasat Mercenary will be a main antagonist. I want there to be much angst and he will create much conflict. Enjoy. [This may be subject to change, but we've named him Davalin with the aid of the Fantasy Name Generator's Lasat Name Generator. I took some syllables from there and forged a new name. We are open for suggestions, but as of right now, this is what we're calling him.] -The Ghost Crew still somehow find ways to cross their lives together and become close (Seth and I have laid out how this happens). So Zeb still has the close bonds of the spectres, as well as his own family. -Zeb is the youngest of his three older siblings. Zeb's family convinces him to go on an extended vacation with them. The rest of the ghost crew will be on coruscant during some overlapping time, having also taken a break from the work they do across the galaxy. -Kallus is still doing double agent work. -This fic will have some pretty serious content warnings, and it will be rated 18+ due to inclusion of some spicy scenes. -Zeb and Kallus exchange so much banter that that alone makes the content mature, and they aren't even doing that intentionally. They might later though. Eh, they probably will later.

That might be all that I dump for now.

At a later date I will dive into the meaning and significance behind the name of the fic. I actually look forward to that a lot. I just want to dump more notes in the doc first. Write out notes for a few more scenes and maybe get the first few chapters written.

[alistairsprayerwarrior]

I Would Have Followed You

With the increasing song raging in his head, Alistair attempts to subdue it by reminiscing on Sereda; alas, that includes sour memories, especially of their 'discussion' that led to her being gone for him for three years now, and counting, which has left him brooding in Crestwood, far from the group that he once called 'family'.

WIP of a longer piece I want to work on of the bitter fight Alistair and Sereda have about her wanting to seek a cure for the Taint. Also just really wanted to write some angy Alistair because it gets me going~ 🥵🥵

Recommend listening to Mud by Delaney Bailey for maximum feels.

Part I | F!Cousland x Alistair | Pre-Inquisition, I'm bad with timelines...

The memory flooded back to him, filling his mind with a montage of moments. It was their shared dinner in the Weisshaupt mess hall when she'd first broached the subject. The savory aroma of roast boar and vegetable stew wafting through the air was forever imprinted on his mind, now tinged with bittersweet nostalgia.

The clattering of dishes and the din of chatter from the other Wardens had faded into the background as Sereda had leaned in, her eyes earnest and her voice barely above a whisper.

"There's something I need to tell you, Alistair."

He had frowned, sensing the seriousness in her tone. His jest about her not liking the gravy was cut off as she began to explain her plan, her voice steady, but her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her plate, avoiding his hard gaze.

He froze, his spoon hanging mid-air the more he listened. He stared at her, trying to find a trace of jest in her features, but found none. His spoon clattered back into the bowl, the loud sound echoing in the suddenly stifling silence.

"You're going alone into potentially hostile territory, chasing after a rumor?" His voice echoed his disbelief, his fear. "You can't be serious, Sereda."

Her response was as somber as a death knell. "About as serious as the Blight."

"So, let me get this straight," he began, his tone dripping with sarcasm, steepling his fingers against his face. "You're planning to traipse off into the sunset, chasing after a rumor that's about as reliable as Oghren's sobriety vows… Without asking me first?"

"Of course I was going to ask you," Sereda said, her voice steady but her eyes betrayed her anxiety with a half-smile. "…That's what I'm doing now."

His eyes, usually filled with laughter and warmth, hardened at her casual response. His smile was more of a grimace now, his usual humor replaced with biting sarcasm. "Well, thank goodness for small mercies. I guess we'll just schedule our next discussion about my possible career switch to nug herding over tomorrow's dinner?"

Sereda made a move to touch his arm with a half-hearted chuckle, but he retracted it quickly. "Alistair, don't be-"

"Ridiculous?" he interrupted, his voice rising with each syllable, earning a few sidelong glances from their comrades. "Sereda, I find your plan equally ridiculous!"

She shot him a look, her eyes flashing with irritation. "It's not like I'm going in blind, Alistair. I've done my research, cross-referenced accounts…"

"Oh, yes, accounts! Those wonderful troves of wisdom," he snorted, his voice laden with derision that rivaled the roll of his eyes. "Those never-ending fountains of wisdom. Because they have a sterling record of reliability. Almost as reliable as when we decided to poke the dragon. Literally. The dragon. Flemeth’s dragon form, right in the middle of a bloody Blight. Good times."

"This is not a joke, Alistair! This could be our chance at a cure, at a normal life," she argued back, frustration in her voice.

"Well, color me excited!" He threw up his hands. "Let's risk everything on a glimmer of hope. It's not like we've got anything else to lose."

"Alistair--" she began, but he didn’t let her finish.

"No, Sereda. You’re right," he cut her off, his voice dripping with bitterness, turning his face from hers with the taut fold of his arms over his chest. "We're Grey Wardens. We live in the shadow of death. But that doesn't mean we need to chase after it."

"Right. We're Grey Wardens, Alistair. Danger is part of the job description."

He rose then, pushing back his chair with such force that it scraped loudly against the stone floor.

"Well, I didn't sign up for... for this," He gestured between them, his face a mask of exasperation and worry. "I didn't sign up to be in love with a woman for seven years, to survive the fucking Blight, only for her to throw herself into danger because of some rumors she wants to humor herself with."

Without another word, Alistair turned his back on her and stormed out of the mess hall. The heavy oak doors slamming shut behind him punctuated his anger, leaving Sereda alone amidst a sea of murmurs and curious glances with the remnants of their meal growing cold, the taste of it now sour in her mouth.