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beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year ago

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Good Luck, Fermata Tower (18+)

pairing: fire-lookout!seungcheol x female!fire-lookout!reader

genre: firewatch au LMAO, smut (MDNI), soo much angst, COMFORT, fluff

description: after the death of your roommate you have to find a greater purpose to life. what better way than to became a fire lookout with a surprisingly charismatic neighbour tower?

warnings: this fic is a lot, please read ALL warnings. SUICIDE, implied suicidal thoughts, major character death 2x, reader goes through grief, so does seungcheol, AGE GAP, RADIO SEX??? LMAOOO, dirty talk, petnames, cockwarming, pentrative sex, strength kink, f. and m. masturbation (mutual?), PINING TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE, MENTIONS OF DOING DRUGS/DOING SHROOMS, talks of drowning, if u know the game i think you'll be able to visualize the beauty of this way more, intensive writing on the scenery and the emotions, LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASe

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "im getting out lana", "im just gonna be making animal sounds", "can we make this into a play so i can perform this?", "OF ALL THE THINGS THAT COULD MAKE ME CRY IT WAS THE DESCRIPTION OF HIS HOT ASS FACE"

wordcount: 13.9k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGCHEOL. i love this fic. the writing is a little novelly for a fic, but i was so passionate ab this whole firewatch thing and i got SO INTO the arcs and their personal losses and i just really love yn and seungcheol. i hope this was worth the wait and i apologize for not finishing sooner. all my love, beefboy

You and Mingyu meet at college at some parkour club that you’d both joined to make friends. You face-plant into the pavement and knock out a tooth and Mingyu takes you to a nearby hospital. You click instantly.

You and Mingyu spend every moment together - you help him and he helps you. Mingyu is smart, you realize. He knows all the formulas in your mathematics course by heart. You tell him he’s smart and he says that no one else seems to think that.

You and Mingyu are best friends. You have matching necklaces that complete a heart.

You and Mingyu party together and when you get too drunk, he carries you down the halls, home. Sometimes at night he sleeps in your bed.

Your friend group thinks you’re dating, but you think you and Mingyu are something much more earnest than lovers. You think Mingyu is your soulmate.

You piggy-back ride Mingyu at graduation and you give him a peck on the cheek when he shakes hands with the dean.

You and Mingyu become roommates. You binge-watch terrible movies together and hold drinking games. It’s hard to admit some of your favorite memories are from watching the Alvin and The Chipmunks trilogy.

The night before it happens you and Mingyu eat dinner together that he cooked. You see his snaggletooth every time he smiles.

You’d almost lived together for two years that morning. He usually wakes earlier than you, but he is nowhere to be seen. The apartment is oddly still. You feel trapped.

You enter Mingyu’s room.

You think he’s asleep. You leave him alone.

Two hours later you grow worried. You enter his room to find him in the same position. You shake him. Mingyu doesn’t wake.

The doctors say a case like Mingyu’s is extremely rare - he was in great shape. You’re not sure if that’s supposed to make you feel better.

Mingyu’s funeral is grim. His death is so terrible, says the pastor, because it’s so domestic. You think it’s terrible because he is - was - the brightest, most amazing person to walk the earth. His parents want you to hold a speech, but you can’t find the words. You think you might sob if you go up there. You sob anyway. The flowers form a ring on the floor of the church and your soulmate is dead.

You can’t sleep anymore. You imagine him dying, left arm numb, alone in the dead of night and choking out your name, reaching for the thin wall that separated you. You cry for a whole month. The apartment is cursed so you live with your parents.

One day, you see an ad for a job in the paper.

You take it. _____________________________

“Hello?”

Static stormed the tower-house when the other end cut off.

“Are you there?”

Your eyes frantically darted around the cabin. It was no more than a 13 foot rectangle and yet your tired eyes couldn’t find the radio, churning out a gruff voice.

You’d just arrived, barely turned on the generator to allow light in. It was nighttime. The park’s dips and peaks were veiled in blue; the silhouettes of the trees, forking out in long, thin spikes, were navy and the lake Fermata was the brightest, glittering pearl from the moon above. Stars twinkled knowingly at you.

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side.

“Yeah, hi, I’m here,” you breathed out tiredly. You let go of the button and a small bit of static spoke back to you.

“Y/n?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m Seungcheol. I’m in Bay Valley Tower. It’s to the east. Saw your light turn on,” His voice was gruff, laced with sleep. It had a rasp at every vowel, strings of vocal chords straining to spit out the words in between sticky ropes of bile.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. You had nothing else to say. The flimsy, one person bed beckoned to your tired body. You moved, like a doll, one limb at a time, into its harbor, collapsing into the thin mattress. You laid on your side, moonlight shining in from the window by the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, carelessly. Impatient in tone, you imagined he’d probably been through this a hundred times before. “So,” he sighed out, deeply. “What’s your problem?”

“Hm?”

There was a shooting star, dancing across the sky in that moment. You watched it, shuffling onto your back with half-closed eyes. Stardust sprinkled from it on the open, empty sky.

“People here are all running from something. So what’s your deal?”

You sighed, watching the star’s open path. It could go anywhere, you thought. Then you moved your arm, holding the receiver to your mouth.

“Listen, Seungcheol. I’ve been hiking for two days, so I’m gonna go to bed now, okay? Hopefully you’ve found some manners by the time I wake up,” you mumbled, then let go of the button (it had a harsh, grainy texture for some reason), and laid your hand, radio in it, limply at your side.

You heard a raspy chuckle from the other end. You had no energy to be angry.

“Alright, Fermata Tower,” there was a smile in the anonymous man’s voice.

There was a pause. The sound of the fierce breeze carried whiffs of autumn, as it lulled you to sleep. You had almost fallen into a black, snow-buried slumber when you heard the radio crinkle again:

“Fermata, do you see that shooting star?”

You had no energy to respond, radio spewing static in your open hand. Thankfully, Seungcheol seemed understanding.

“That’s good luck. So...”

A moment. You and Seungcheol watched the sky-dancer, apart.

“Good luck.” _____________________________

“You’re awake!”

It was Seungcheol’s voice. Transformed by the orange hues of daytime, he sounded much more alive than the night prior.

“I can see you sitting at your desk.”

Indeed you were sitting on your desk - a flimsy wooden thing, which looked like it had come form a yard sale - studying the map of the massive park. There were simple cartoonish figures to indicate stresses of trees and drops in the terrain, and rock quarries and waterfalls and lakes. You’d delicately pointed out your own position with red marker, scribbling ‘me’ by it with a heavy child’s hand.

It was cold - the thin boards did not do much to ward away the heavy wind, hooting creeping in the cracks. It smelled like pine needles and tea, as you’d just boiled a lavender on the kettle. IT sat, heating your fingers where it rested beside them in a mug left behind by the previous firewatchman (it read: “don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee”).

The radio clattered against the wood when you clumsily picked it up.

“Didn’t know when I signed up for this that I would be dealing with a stalker,” you joked, smiling small when you heard the man on the other end let out a hearty laugh.

“Hey, don’t go labeling me just yet, kid.”

“Kid?!” you said incredulously, dropping the marker that you had been so diligently using to scribble excellent comments on your map (latest was: “maybe cute bears”). “How old are you?!”

“I’m 37,” Seungcheol said.

“Oof.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding!” you laughed, dropping your pen and leaning back in your seat. The view was beautiful. You could see the lake, surrounded by a rippling sea of trees, each top reaching for the sky, like you. “I’m 27, I’m getting up there with you.”

“Just a small decade.”

“I’m mature for my age.”

Seungcheol chuckled on the other end of the radio. You spun around in your chair (it creaked horribly - it sounded like a pig at the sight of a cleaver) surveying each square of the forest from your windows. You narrowed your eyes, trying to spot his lookout tower.

“How come you can see me but I can’t see you?” you mumbled, now standing to try and see, but it was drowned out by the sheer volume of pinewood. Seungcheol grumbled on the other end: “I should be East.”

“Yeah, fuck, I forgot to tell you, I think I dropped my fucking compass on the way here,” you ran a hand through your hair and frown.

“Uh, shit, you’re gonna have to pick up a new one, bud,” he said and you slumped. “Well, if you’re facing the lake - Fermata Lake, I mean - I should be to your left.”

You followed his instructions. You faced the lake, then took two loggy steps to face left, then squinted incessantly at the horizon. Not dissimilar to a crowd in Times Square, the trees stood toe to toe all across at every inch you spied. The pines zagged upwards like Giza, and culminated into the biggest mountain in the park, just under the sun. The mountain loomed overhead where you finally spotted the lookout tower, like a monster crouched over its prey. You tried to shake off the thought and focus on the lone, floating tower in the pit of pointy trees.

“I see you, Bay Valley,” you breathed into the radio.

The tower looked much more lonely from so far away. It was different when you were in it, but with the miles-long stretch between you two, you found it looked so small and feeble. You could make out the light turned on within it, a rectangle of burning orange. The shooting star must’ve crossed directly between your two towers.

“Attagirl,” Seungcheol smiles. “Do you see me waving?”

“No, what the fuck.”

“I got binoculars.”

“Ew, you are a stalker!”

“It’s for bird-watching!” Seungcheol informed you, offense in his tone. You cackled into the radio. “I like watching birds, thank you very much.”

“Jeez, can’t believe what this job does to people.”

“I liked bird-watching before I got this job,” Seungcheol said.

“You’re so white,” you grinned.

“I’m not even white!”

You and Seungcheol both laughed, joyous hiccups interrupted by bursts of static and 3 miles of rocky terrain and pine needles. You squint at the sun, traversing and dipping under the jagged hedges of the tree-line.

Your head lolled over to spot between the desk and doorway, where you’d dropped your orange backpack (a peculiar color, come to think of it - same color as the lifejacket they deploy on airplanes when everything has already gone wrong). Now it was flopped onto its side, zipper ripped open and knick knacks and crumbs at its mouth, spilling onto the floor.

“Where do I get a new compass?” you asked, looking at a yellowed book sat beside the backpack.

“Uh, shit, gimme a sec,” Seungcheol mumbled, and before his radio cut off, you heard, briefly, the itchy scrambling of papers, and the sound made him seem a lot more real. “We have these, uh, supply boxes scattered around. ‘M readin’ this, uhhh, fuckin’ info-thing.. Should say which of them supposedly has a compass.”

“Sounds like you really know your stuff.”

“Get off my ass, Fermata.”

You heard papers rustle again and a small bump before the radio cut off, as if he put the radio down on the table. You awaited, arms crossed over your pink and gray striped hoodie, and staring at sundown. Orange flooded the sky, as if it were all engulfed in flames and this was really hell.

“Uhhh, okay, I got it! There’s one down at Eleison Valley? The code is 1-2-3-4. That’s actually the code to all of them.”

“Secure.”

“Shut up.”

“Well, I can get some exploring done, at least,” you frown, spying a not-so-casual hike on the dotted surface of your map, when you tangoed back to the table, fiddling with the edge of the paper.

“Yeah. You should probably do it tomorrow though. Sun’s coming down.”

“Yeah. Can’t believe I slept that long.”

“Don’t feel too bad about it, kid. I was knocked out for, like, two days after the hike out here. It’s a miracle you’re already awake.”

“Thanks, Bay Valley,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat with some strained shuffling. You watched, eyes half-lidded as the sun fully disappeared behind the curtain of the park. Its light still roamed the sky, where it hid. Half dark blue, half red, the sky twinkled at you and your insignificance brilliantly. You tried not to think about how lonely and floaty your lookout tower must look from afar. Everything feels big when it’s close enough.

“You’re welcome, Fermata.” _____________________________

“You think I could eat any of these mushrooms, BV?”

“BV?”

“Bay Valley.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol sighed on his end of the radio. You were trudging through the undergrowth in your new hiking boots, lifesaver-colored backpack on the plates of your back, weight pushing through the fabric of your jacket. “No, I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Damn it. Was gonna get hella high,” you joked, eyeing another cluster of snow-white mushrooms under the shade of a tree, sloping along a gnarly root. Your crunching steps in the loose dirt came to a halt - there was a dropoff. The cliff cut off like a broken chocolate bar and a sharp rockwall supported it to the next layer of earth.

The path was snaking down towards the lake. You’d circle around and climb up towards Tri Forks Tower, where eventually the climbing heights would bowl into Eleison Valley - a flower field, supposedly (in the map a little flower icon alerted you of this).

“If I die from this rockwall, please, tell my family I love them,” you grumbled, fetching an itchy, frayed rope from the depths of your backpack. Squinting at the high sun, pale drops of sweat forming around your forehead, you slung it over the hook. The park was littered with these - rusted old things that were leaning forward from years of heavy hikers’ tugging. This one was particularly bent.

“You’re so dramatic,” came Seungcheol from the speaker.

“Am not, man, these rocks are like fucking knives!”

“Such a drama queen. A real Primadonna.”

You huffed and puffed as you lowered yourself down the cliffside. Your boots pressed flat against the jagged rock, biceps burning as you held yourself up and walked down the side of it. The whole world was with you, sideways, and you would’ve stopped to appreciate it were you not sure you would pass out doing so.

“Holy shit,” you said to yourself when you were finally on stable ground and not spider-manning the mineral deposits of the park. You put your hands on your hips and squinted at its imposing open jaw.

“You down yet, Queen B?”

You panted, grimacing, when you tugged the rope hard and it leapt down like a flying snake: “Yeah, I’m down.”

You continued padding through the forest. The earth was dry and it was summer, but the wind was harsh and it cooled your stovetop-skin as you walked along a rock quarry, Fermata Lake hiding behind the covers of huge, flat bulwark. You listened to the cacophonous call of the forest: rustling leaves and birds.

“I had a friend - uh, friend of a friend, actually - who, like, got high as fuck off mushrooms and had a bad trip,” you said, mouth to the mic of the radio, as you studied the cover of the leaves.

“Yeah? What happened?” Seungcheol hummed.

“She said that, like -- fuck,” you breathed, scrambling over a particularly rocky rock. “She said there was, like, like her house flooded. Like, water just came gushing in and the whole house was, like, underwater suddenly and she.. She thought she was gonna drown. And her fuckin’ kitchen turned into, like, a coral reef or some shit, I don’t know.”

“Shit,” Seungcheol seemed much more alert now. You heard him put something down on his table (you imagined it was just as shitty as your own). “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“It’s fucking crazy. Don’t do drugs, man.”

You turned past the quarry and was met with the sight of the huge, gaping hole of Fermata Lake. Strangely oval, the lake was flanked on all sides with thick pineland, except for a slight angle where grassy hills turned upwards towards Tri Forks Tower.

The water was much more green up close. Algae sloshed up the side of the gravel-earth, willing you into the murky depths.

You stared at it for a while. You thought maybe you could make out someone standing at the bottom of the bowl-shape.

“I’m at Fermata Lake,” you said then, and then started walking again.

“Good job! And you haven’t even died at a drop off yet,” Seungcheol joked and you laughed.

“God, you’re such a jerk. I bet you’re fuckin’.. Watching birds right now like a nerd.”

“Okay, rude-”

“Why don’t you go outside and be productive?”

“I’m looking for fires,” Seungcheol snarked back. “The binoculars are multi-use.”

You let the conversation die down for a bit, focused on the walk. It was peaceful when you let it be, but at times you came to feel like you were being swallowed alive, or like the looming figure of Aluralura Mountain was pressing its boulder-brawn in between your shoulder blades. The air in the forests was thicker, so you stayed persistent in your path, as you climbed up the clearings and spotted Tri Forks in the distance.

“Hey, uh, Y/n?”

The sudden intrusion of Seungcheol on the radio had you jolting, dropping the radio into the earth (thankfully it was fine - here the earth was softer and it dipped under your boot and water pressed out from the mull). You bent over and picked it back up.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” you scolded, wiping mud off the yellow plastic of the radio.

“Oh, uh, sorry..”

It was only then that you noticed a meekness in Seungcheol’s voice. You, of course, had not the furthest idea what he looked like, but he sounded like he was holding a knife behind his back. You furrowed your brows and stared down the radio, as if it would give you answers. There was dirt clamoring the yellow, where your fingers had held on.

“What’s up?” you said and sounded fakely bright.

“Well, I just-” he cut himself off with a cough, one that reached those stringent, thinning vocal cords and brought back the rasp. “I wanted to apologize. For the other night. I mean, when you came to the tower.”

You didn’t respond, only furrowed your brow and looked out across the sun-lit moor. There was a deer traversing across the grass.

“Uhm. Because. I was- I was kinda drunk, uh, when you came, and I know I was kinda pushy about, you know, why you came out here and all that.”

“OH!” you exclaimed and the noise ended in a laugh. “Please, Seungcheol. Don’t worry about that. It’s fine.”

“Okay, good,” he mumbled.

The flower field came into view after climbing a particularly steep hill and it was a flower field - not just cartography myth.

It was all sunflowers and catmint - a huge, long stretch of purple and yellow splotches, stemming from green, untamed grass - stretching as far as you could see, disappearing into a hill at the far horizon. You were sure the smell of pollen went for miles, flowerdust sprinkling the air in heavy coats. The path you were following split the field in two, a dry, boring gravel streak, but you saw, faded from sunlight, a once deep, now light, ashy brown box at the right side.

“I found it!” you shrieked into the radio, a newfound strength gearing your legs into a sprint. “Fuck, yes!”

“Good job, Fermata!” there was a smile in his voice.

“Thank you!”

You were also smiling, when you went up to it. It was rectangular and made of planks, held together by a metal loop and a padlock. Like everything else, it was dirty and ravished, and you felt a faint worry at the sight of scratch marks on its side. You clicked in the code: 1-2-3-4.

The interior of the box was mostly empty. To your horror the first thing you saw was a porn magazine, which you did not dare to touch; then you saw a granola bar, which you did touch and stash away in your backpack, without any regard for how old it may have been; then came the compass, small and cheap metal and pointing out that you were, in fact, facing Northwest.

There was another item in the box. You did not initially see it, as it was taped to the interior of the lid, but when you raised your eyes, you saw it. It was a piece of paper - a note.

Grimacing, you ripped it off where it was blowing violently in the wind, holding it tight between your fingers and smudging dirt along the untainted white.

It read:

‘Hey, Cheol. If you head up the path there’s a family of raccoons! I left this granola bar here so you could feed them! From Jun.’

“Hey, Seungcheol?” you said absently, staring over the blue, scribbled ink, worn out from months of rainwater dripping in through the planks. He hummed on the other end of the line. “There’s a note here for you. From a, uh, Jun?”

“Oh.”

There was a pause that you couldn’t decipher - maybe you could have, had you been there with Seungcheol. Maybe if you could read his face, his body, you could’ve known what it meant. But for now you just stood in the breeze. It was picking up, getting angrier, hurling at your clothes and hair, banishing you from the field. The flowers dangled uselessly.

“Do you want me to read it to you?”

Silence.

“No, not really.”

“Oh, okay. Uh, who’s- who’s Jun?”

Silence.

“The guy who used to work in Fermata Tower. Before you.”

“Oh.”

Every second was longer than the last. You wish you knew what it all meant, but you sensed in Seungcheol’s curtness that he was not taking questions currently, and so you looked around the quickly graying sky and the suddenly spiteful wind and folded the note away in your jacket pocket.

“I’m gonna head back now,” even your voice was rocked by the wind.

Seungcheol didn’t respond.

You left Eleison Valley alone. _____________________________

This was where it was supposed to be - greatness. Not success, but something greater, larger, more alive than you could ever be. You thought you’d find it in the mountains, the valleys, the lakes and the forests and maybe that had been naive of you - to think that nature and earth could give any sort of meaning that death had taken away from you. These shadowed parts only served to make you feel smaller, you realized. The mountains glared at you, the forests swallowed and spat you out.

You couldn’t sleep. The image of Mingyu’s outstretched hand was back and you could almost see him from your flimsy bed, lying on his back with a tanned hand out for you. You left him alone, just like you always had.

Burrowed under the veil of your thin blanket, grabbing at it with clumsy hands, you turned your back to Mingyu’s corpse on your floor.

A prickle sauntered up your back. It was that emotion that something was creeping closer, something was out to get you. That you would feel a cool, dead hand on your back and when it would spin you around his face would be there, and he’d look nothing like himself; he’d be pale and purple around the mouth and his eyes would be sunken and dark and all the glitter he possessed - that he used to possess - would be gone and something menacing, like a hungry mountain, would have replaced it.

You thrashed, suddenly, to look back at the corpse. It was still there. Hadn’t moved an inch. Deja vu.

Thoughtlessly, desperately, you fumbled for the radio wrapped up the sheets of your bed. Your fingertips found the plastic hardware, and it bounced at your eagerness, before you pulled it along the sheets and up to your mouth.

“Seungcheol?” you gasped.

When did you start crying? You decided you must’ve been crying all night and maybe you’d cried so much that your brain had stopped registering the feeling of wet tears.

There was a pause. A long one. So long, you started to really become aware of the cries of the wind, the patter of the rain and the endless mumbling of the trees (and the gargled, bubbling blood rising from Imaginary Friend Mingyu’s half-open mouth). Then static spoke back to you:

“Yeah?” his voice was so raspy, you registered that you must’ve awoken him from his sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your nails dug into the radio and you pressed it into your chest, holding on tight.

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered, words full of shaky air. There was another pause and for a second you feared that Seungcheol might’ve gotten angry and gone back to bed. But he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” You heard rustling on his end, and you imagined him standing up from the bed, looking out at your lonely island of a lookout tower. “Do I need to trek over there?”

“No!- no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you protested, then trailed off.

“... Are you crying?”

You squeezed your eyes shut: “I just- d’you remember what I said? About my- my friend’s friend who- who had a bad mushroom trip?”

“Uh, yeah, I remember. Her- Her house flooded, right?” Seungcheol’s voice was tainted with thorough confusion, but not annoyance. Never annoyance.

“Well, I just-” you sputtered and sighed. You almost wanted to stop talking and give up when Seungcheol stayed quiet on his end and drew the words forward: “It’s so stupid. Sometimes I just- I just feel like that. Like you’re drowning, everywhere you go. You know?”

Your voice was stringent with nervousness, and you picked at your nail, wrapped around the radio in the shallow dark.

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart,” he mumbled. It was amazing to you how gruff and tough Seungcheol turned soothing and caring so fast. The nickname felt like a warm hug, and you almost didn’t register the sound of fabric rustling once more. “I’m coming over.”

“N-No!” you gasped sharply. Your eyes flickered down. Mingyu watched from the floor, eyes glazed over from death. He smelled foul.

“Can you.. Can you just- talk to me?” you whispered helplessly, and Seungcheol quieted down, seemingly weighing your proposal.

“Okay. Okay, sweetheart, I’ll talk to you,” Seungcheol whispered soothingly, and for God’s sake, you didn’t even know what he looked like, but the rasp in his voice, and the comfort and warmth that sung out the speaker of the radio had your heart clenching in your chest. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Um, I don’t know,” you sniffled. Seungcheol only softened his voice and sat, awake in the middle of the night, comforting you.

“Can I tell you about birds?”

He told you about birds for 45 minutes before you fell asleep (something he had predicted would happen); he told you about how pheasants are known for their striking colors and how they have excellent eyesight; he told you how he saw a nightjar just before going to bed that night, and how they’re incredibly hard to spot; he told you about Barrow’s Goldeneyes, and how they’re the funniest little guys, and he loves them, because they glow purple in the sunlight; he told you about g…

Oh. You must’ve started dozing off. _____________________________

You weren’t sure when it changed, but at some point you looked out the window, and the mountain looked a lot more like yourself.

You were getting better, happier, you were waking up with more energy, you were bubblier. You weren’t entirely sure you could blame it on the park though. For two months you’d had your job and for about two months, every once in a while, you’d radioed Seungcheol at night, and without any question, he’d tell you about birds.

It sounded stupid the more you thought about it, but his voice lulled you into a comfortable sleep even on Mingyu’s most insistent nights.

You’d wake up and patrol your area, then you’d settle back in for a couple of hours, watching out for fire hazards and guests in the park, before you’d patrol one more time. Then you’d go to bed.

This was not the type of job you took to make friends, but somehow Seungcheol had become the reason you woke up everyday. Everyday you looked forward to walking through the woods with his voice on your radio, and you looked forward to making him laugh and him making you laugh.

“Seungcheol, I’ve got eyes on what I’m pretty sure is a Red-breasted Merganser, come in.”

This morning you were up extraordinarily early - for you, that is. You weren’t certain what exactly prompted this early rise (maybe you were finally sleeping right thanks to a certain rough-throated man?), but nonetheless you’d enjoyed the view of dawn along the undergrowth and had eaten half-warm oatmeal in bed with an open book. Now you were bored and craving the attention of your only forest-companion.

Seungcheol didn’t respond like you were expecting though. When the radio crinkled in response, you heard him panting on the other end and thumps, like he was picking it up off the floor.

“That’s… That’s great, Fermata. I’ve gotta get my.. My binoculars out,” he heaved for air and fumbled clumsily with the sensitive mic. You cringed at the sound.

“What are you doing? Why are you so out of breath?” you asked. A twinge of worry slipped out in your tone. Was he okay?

“I’m, uh, working out,” Seungcheol chuckled, and he seemed to finally regain composure, clearing his throat sheepishly. “You’re not usually awake to hear it.”

“You work out every day?”

“Sure do - gotta be prepared to knock out a grizzly,” he grunted.

You leaned back in your seat, a less than amused expression on your face, because a twirling strand of fire danced up your chest and settled into your cheeks. Why was it suddenly so hot? Fire spread across your nerve endings and twinged you red in the apples of your cheeks. You ran your hands over your face to soothe the sizzling.

This was ridiculous, you thought. Seungcheol was not making you blush. You didn’t even know what he looked like! He might as well have had an eye patch and a mohawk. But even as you halfheartedly scrutinized yourself, your thoughts clouded over the idea of sweet, attentive, raspy Seungcheol with big arms and thighs and a sculpted chest and-

“Are you- are you, like, buff?”

The question left your lips before you could stop it. Your voice broke halfway through the sentence and you let go of the button with an embarrassed hiss, like a kettle huffing out air. The embarrassment, that was potent and squeezing at your chest, worsened when you heard Seungcheol’s throaty chuckle on the other end, limp and dry.

“You’re curious today, aren’t you?” he mused then, smirk clear from the tone and pronunciation of the words, and you squeezed your eyes shut because why was his voice and the thought of him and the warmth coming through the radio speaker suddenly bothering you so much?

The truth was you hadn’t masturbated in months. With everything going on, you simply hadn’t felt the urge or the want. But, it occurred to you, now that you were slowly becoming a functioning human once more, the urge was returning hot and fast in your core, and, of course, your only companion with the raspy voice and the attentive words and the apparently muscly body was bringing forth this urge with ease.

You pressed down the urge, taking a deep breath before you pressed the button once more. You were not going to masturbate to the thought of Seungcheol - not Seungcheol who you only knew by voice, who had been nothing but caring and sweet to you. You could not corrupt the preciousness of your companionship with your lewd, depraved thoughts.

“I’m just curious what you look like. Unlike you, stalker, I don’t have binoculars!” That sounded a lot more like the you that had not just gotten wet at the thought of Seungcheol’s bulging muscles.

“Hey! The power of the binoculars is limited. I can only really see your silhouette, nothing fancy,” he defended and then right as you were about to respond, he knocked the wind out of you again: “And yes, I’m pretty buff, if I do say so myself.”

Ugh.

You went the rounds that day and got through another day without having to complete fire protocol, ending out the evening with a pack of instant noodles your family had so graciously sent you (Seungcheol scolded you: “That has no nutrients!”). However each step through the forest and each slurp of noodles and page of your book was plagued by the latent fire inside you. A burning occupied your abdomen fueled by the echoing morning voice of Bay Valley Tower.

By nightfall you gave in. You were only a girl. This didn’t have to change anything, you thought, as the park turned plum purple. You settled into bed in your pajamas, sitting upright against the frail wood wall and letting your hair bunch on the rattling plate of glass. Your eyes moved to and fro, bouncing over the now lived-in cabin and taking in the dark void of the farest corner.

Briefly, you fiddled with your radio in your palm. You could call Seungcheol and- wait, why would you do that? No, no. You packed away that wicked thought - it only served to make you feel more guilty. No, instead you slid down the wall to lay in your pillow, now positive you were alone.

An owl hooted outside and you slipped your hand into your underwear.

It was surprisingly easy to surrender your consciousness to the lust (and you had, God bless your soul, stayed wet throughout the entire day). It clouded you over, as you began rubbing up and down your pussy, ghosting over your clit to dip down to your glazed slit. Your eyes squeezed shut and you conjured your best doll-replica of Seungcheol.

In your dream he was a faceless mist, but he had a carved upper body, and from the fog surrounding his head spewed his voice - dripping in warmth and comfort, as you imagined it was his toned arm reaching between your legs and pumping into you.

Your other hand snaked down to your clit, where your hips canted off the bed. In the whirl of thrusting into yourself and rubbing tight circles in your clit, you realized, lip bitten raw under your prying teeth, that there was no reason to hold back your moans. It was only forest and wasteland for miles - and surely Seungcheol would not hear you in his floating snow globe.

“A-ah, Seungcheol,” you wantonly murmured, burying your head in your pillow and sighing lazily. A flush had crept up your neck, where your chest expanded to allow for air. The pleasure was immense - probably more intense, since it had been quite a while - warmth spreading in your lower stomach and culminating at your throbbing clit. Recklessly, you moaned and thrashed as you fucked yourself on your fingers, hiking towards your orgasm. “Seungcheoool-”

“Y/n?”

You froze.

Maybe you’d imagined it. Still, your fingers were stopped in their tracks, simply resting on the warmth of your folds, itching to continue. You sat up in bed and tried to ward away the creeping panic. Your heart began to gallop to the beat of a siren.

The air had been starched when you finally pulled your hand out of your underwear, hot cheeks and glistening hands all over, when you began searching for the radio.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You had your back hunched over the edge of the bed, searching for the little yellow receiver, when his voice came again in a thick forest of static. You snapped your head to under your comforter, where the noise was slightly muffled.

In a blurred panic, you threw the comforter off of you and spotted the small radio by your calf, and you scrambled to pick it up. When the dirty plastic touched your cheek, you stopped, sighed a shaky, hot breath, and closed your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine. What’s up?” you let go of the button and cringed at your own disheveledness, the breath and shake in your voice. You pressed your forehead radio-front in a silent prayer.

There was a hesitance to Seungcheol when he spoke next: “... You were calling for me, you sounded in pain?”

This was certainly the worst thing he could’ve said. You would’ve rather he told you he spotted a bear at the foot of your tower, trying to eat you! You must’ve accidentally kicked the radio and hit the button, you decide, and you damn yourself for keeping it in the bed - of course, shit like this would happen!

“I was…-” (If only you were a better liar), “- pranking you…”

Seungcheol huffed out in amusement on the other end and you wanted to jump off the railing to the lookout tower and break your neck. “You were pranking me?”

You gulped with a decidedly dry mouth. “It was a bear attack prank.”

Seungcheol was smiling: “Yeah?”

You were not: “Yeah.”

There was an entropic silence, where you thoughts came rambled and pleading in your head: Please, just let this go, please, just let this go, let’s pretend it never happened, let’s-

“You wanna know what I think you were doing?”

Seungcheol’s voice had dropped an octave. The smile in his voice was gone and there was something menacing and commanding about him now. In the moment, overcome with a cocktail of guilt and shame, you could not discern if this was anger or lust - the first seemed fitting.

“I think you were fucking your little fingers thinkin’ about me,” he hummed and in response you whined and squeezed your eyes shut. The shame encapsulated you. “Shh, shh, calm down, I’m not mad, honey.”

Blinking through rapidly forming tears, you opened your eyes to stare, dumbfounded, at the radio (as if it were Seungcheol and you were not several miles apart). “Really?”

“Not mad at all. Jus’ think you should’ve told me if you wanted my help,” he tutted on his end and, God, he was so nurturing and comforting and he knew it, and it was so sexy. Your pussy, which had vaguely throbbed from the negligence throughout, was now screaming for your attention, hole clenching sadly around nothing.

“I thought you wouldn’t want-”

“You’re crying again, baby,” he must’ve noted from the hoarseness of your voice and the sniffles that accompanied every syllable.

“Just want you so bad,” you sobbed, now shamelessly slipping your hand back into your underwear and sighing dazedly in relief when you touched it again.

“Need Seungcheol to take care of you, huh?” The smile in his voice was back.

“Yeah.”

“Bet you don’t want me talking about birds now, hm?” he chuckled (at his own joke), voice low and raspy. “Are you touching that pretty pussy?”

“Mhmm,” you responded lazily, floating high on the sound of his voice and jolts of electricity they sent as you worked up a pace on your clit once more. The pain of the interruption ebbed away.

“Good girl, hm?” He knew. “Getting off to the sound of my voice, eh? Don’t even know what I look like.”

“Hng- k-know you’re b-buff,” you gritted out, voice coming in sharp breaths. Your body moved languidly, back arching off the bed and hair coming out in choppy strands on your pillow. Seungcheol scoffed out a laugh: “Like knowing I could just fold you in half? Fuck you into tomorrow? Hm?”

You let out a loud, dumb whine of his name. It was a total inability to get over his words; how melodious it was, and yet, how contradictory the smoothness of his words were to the strained nature of his thrumming voice. And the worst of it all was how confident he was - you supposed hearing someone else masturbate to you would be a confidence boost - and how the arrogance swelled out in the most comforting, nurturing way. Each word felt like a hand on your body, like a caress that sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, princess, say my name like that again. Please.”

“Seungcheol!” you obliged mindlessly, legs shaking on either side of your glistening hand.

“Shit, I-” he grunted, and you heard a fumbling of fabrics on his end. Your nerves spun in excitement at the thought of him getting hard at your voice. “Can you put two fingers in the pretty pussy - it’ll feel like one of mine, baby.”

You cried out when your fingers entered yourself, pads of your fingertips rubbing against your walls. Outside of the windows, the park was an empty wasteland of mauve and orchid, and the Fermata lake was brilliantly alive and dipping under the three-quarter-moon.

“Wish it was your pussy wrapped around my cock right now,” he grunted, and he’d lost breath and composure and if you knew what his face looked like, you would imagine it sweaty and twisted up and a red-lipped ‘o’ letting the jaw slack.

Resuming your earlier motions (double-handing your own kitty), you felt your orgasm lurking in the pit of your stomach, a tight-wound knot being ripped apart. You were panting into the cool air, creating silver-clouds in your tower-home. “A-ah, want you inside me so bad, Cheol- shit! Gonna- gonna cum-”

“Yeah? You gonna cum thinking about my cock inside you baby? Thinkin’ about me just bouncing you up and down like my little fuckdoll?” His speech ended in the prettiest moan you’d ever heard, and you imagined every well-defined, flexed muscle under the moonlight and the thought had your whole body jerking and shaking and when you closed your eyes the stars stayed with you, white and glimmering under your eyelid.

The strangled moans of your orgasm sent Seungcheol over the edge - at least from what you could tell. His dirty talk turned into strings of curses and moans and grunts until the radio went dead, and all you could hear was your own labored breaths and the faraway hooting of a horned owl.

The silence flatlined the excitement into nervousness. Your lip was almost automatically caught in your teeth and you glanced over the radio beside you through your lashes.

Oh shit. What the fuck had you done?

“Uh, did you-” the smell of sweat shot up as you shuffled in your sheet to grab the radio once more. “Did you, uh, cum?”

Oh fuck. You just made it way worse.

The silence from the radio was much louder than any response, but when the receiver did finally crinkle with static, the sound of laughter exploded from it.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, BV,” you scolded, but you were smiling and relief flooded you like water overflows Fermata Lake during heavy downpour.

“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped on the other end. “It’s just-.. ‘DID YOU CUM?’”

“Alright, I’m going to bed now. You suck,” you quacked, and even though you were alone you thought to suppress the gentle tugging at your lips into a sharky smile.

“DID YOU CUM?”

He sounded pretty when he laughed. _____________________________

“I can’t believe I have to hike down here to confiscate some fireworks.”

Your grumble came from the forest beside Fermata Lake. You were walking down a patch of dirt revealed from years’ of trampling feet, dewy sprigs of grass arching into the mud. A group of (presumably) teenagers were firing fireworks down near the edge of your assigned territory.

“They’re a fire hazard!” Seungcheol squawked obviously, and you huffed in your boots, preparing to climb down a rocky slope.

“I know that! It’s just everywhere - the website, the signs - don’t use fireworks!” you complained. Seungcheol hummed absently on the other line: “Go teach those suckers a lesson, Fermata!”

“I will,” you said, agitated.

“Just don’t fuck with their personal belongings. Last thing we need is a lawsuit. Again.”

“I won’t,” you said, deflated.

Even in your most angered moments, you could hand yourself over to the gentle forest. No longer were you protruding into a bubble, straining to get through a barrier that was urging you out, but you were absorbed into it, like you were one of its own.

The forest was lush with pines and brown and green moss painting bark and rocks, and the grass leapt higher than your knees, as you trudged further and further in.

SWOOOOSH!

A firework propelled into the sky about 100 meters away, and you watched its ignited trails of smoke before it exploded into a fest of sparkling blue and gold. You huffed out in anger at the sight. The sky wasn’t even fully dark - it was merely a muted blue evening.

“Did you see that?” Seungcheol came from the radio-speaker.

“Yeah, I’m right with them.”

As you padded closer the smell of wet pine cones and coltsfoot accompanied the sound of distant voices - indeed, they sounded juvenile. You could make out at least two girls and at least one boy, although their voices were hard to distinguish, the way they echoed in between the grid of trees.

“Hey!” you yelled, as you creeped just close enough. Their voices hushed and you saw their frightened faces lit by handheld, Target-bought flashlights when you peeled back the screen of a bramblebush. They were gathered together amongst a tent, flashlight lighting the plates of the faces ablaze in cool white.

“Cut it out with the fireworks, alright?” you huffed and your anger melted a little when you saw that they were indeed just kids - maybe 19? They seemed to have nothing to say, and so you scanned the beer cans and the scattered backpacks and finally caught sight of a bundle of rockets in the grass. Your brows furrowed, and you picked it up with a sternness.

“Hey, that’s ours!” one kid chimed, but he made no move to stop you, really, as you trudged angrily back to the bush you had come from.

“Not as long as you’re in our park, man. It’s a fire hazard.”

“We’ll take them back home-”

“Goodnight!” The desperate plea fell on deaf, tired ears. You just wanted to eat dinner, so you disappeared out on a trail of pine needles and valiantly ignored the trail of curses and insults following you. You could care less.

“I got the fireworks, Seungcheol,” you sighed tiredly and your eyes were dark pits and your face was relaxed, if only to conservative energy.

“Good job, Fermata.”

You were not in the talking mood. Maybe Seungcheol could tell by your tone of voice; maybe he could hear it in your sigh; but Seungcheol piped up again: “You know, if you need some energy for the hike back, there’s a supply box - uhh, 52? - if you head upwards instead of towards Fermata Lake.”

You wanted to be grumpy, you really did, but the thought of a salivating, expired, delicious, out-of-date granola bar had you changing course to the slowly gaining hill of the forest.

It was weird. This was probably the closest you’d ever been to Seungcheol’s tower. Under the prickly cover of pine some mile in the distance, you could see a glowing square, perched over the treetops by long, wooden pillars, support beams crossing the middle. You couldn’t help but wanna go up to it. There had been an unbearable magnetic pull to his tower ever since that night however long ago. You decided to stay the course for Supply Box 52.

“I can practically see you from here,” you commented, and the tower was becoming a beacon as the evening mulled darker and darker by the minute.

“Really? Hang on,” he did not let go of the radio-button, and so you had the pleasure of listening to the ruffling of fabrics and thumps on the floor. “Can you see me flexing in the window?”

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, and the sound bounced off the pines and traveled up to the rock of the nearby Aluralura Mountain. “No, I’m not quite that close.”

“Damn it!”

“Yeah, it‘s a real shame,” you muttered, smiling, and then you caught sight of the supply box up ahead. The hill flattened out once more (to which you breathed a sigh of relief) and the box was perched on the edge facing the path that began onto the cliffs. This was Seungcheol’s territory - cliff sides and all. “I think I see Supply Box 52.”

“Open that bad boy up.”

You entered the code, scrolling the mechanisms one by one until the numbers read 1-2-3-4 (you still thought this combination was ridiculous), and when you opened the lid it creaked horribly, worn from the weather.

The wind was harsh that day, and a note, identical to the one you’d found at Eleison Valley, broke off its tape from the mean pushes of the wind. Instinctively, you grabbed it as it started to fly off, and your hand closed around it and crinkled it under your fingers. You looked at it with knitted brows.

Wordlessly, you tucked it in between your side and your arm, redirecting your attention to the goodies in the supply box. 52 held a rope and a map and another directory for supply boxes and, to your exhausted delight, a box of grandma-looking caramels. You took the whole thing and stuffed it into your bag.

As you shuffled, you put the note between your lips, stuffing the plastic container of gold-wrapped, sugary candies in between your rope and your own map and a coat for possible rain. When you zipped it up, the fabric of the bag warped grotesquely to fit the various items you’d brought.

You pulled the note back out from your lips. A small wet patch of spit lingered on the paper, as you unfolded it.

It read:

‘Hey Seungcheol,

If you find this, I gotta go be with my mom now. I’ll miss you forever.

From Jun.’

The wind blew kisses on your back like the presence of a ghost.

“You find anything good?” Seungcheol’s voice peeked through the static of the radio. It had been quiet for a while. You couldn’t take your eyes off the letter. The ink was smudged and slurred.

“Uh, caramels, actually,” you said, eyes dancing over each slope of ‘forever’. “Like, granny caramels.”

You put the letter away. _____________________________

A week later and you were looking out of the window at pouring rain. The sky was smothered by a duvet of dark gray clouds, and the rain was coming harder than you’d ever seen. It was like thousands of bullets pelting into the ground and turning it soft and muddy, and the drops hit your roof like the nonstop click of a keyboard.

"Rainy season, huh?” your mouth was to the radio.

“Yeah. We’re gonna be staying up all night to watch out for lightning. Fire hazard.”

“Shit, I should make coffee.”

“I’m way ahead of you.”

The lightning came and thunder followed. The sound was enormous and terrifying. It grumbled like a hungry beast and the sound bounced off of every mountain-wall and echoed from all sides. You felt very small, wrapped up in a blanket at your desk, a steaming cup of coffee by your side and your fire extinguisher evacuated from its holder to stand beside you, all red and shiny aluminum and rubber nozzle.

“Did that look like it hit a tree?” you asked after seeing a zig-zagging bolt of lightning hanging a little too low over the crowns. Your voice was louder than usual - this night was a game of overpowering the screaming rain. It was some 1 AM.

“Uhhhhh, shit. Maybe. We’d see the fire, but it’s possible it’s at the root.”

“Fuck,” you whispered. “Was that yours or my area?”

“Uhhhhh-”

“I’m gonna check it out.”

Determined, you let the radio fall on the table, as you fumbled for another sweater. The knitted fabric slipped over your other sweater, and then you were wrapping yourself up in your raincoat.

“Maybe I should go - it’s slippery right now, it’s dangerous as fuck. You could fall and hit your head, you know. I think it was closer to me anyway, so--”

“Seungcheol, I already have my coat on, I’m going!”

And indeed you were going, despite the grumbled protests of Seungcheol. Your coat blew in the hurricane wind as you stood atop the cliff, looking down at the cascading water, that’d all race down to the sinkhole that was Fermata Lake. Through the clouds, there were no stars to trade glances with, not even ghosts.

You fought headwind the entire way, your hair flowing wildly and your coat threatening to unbutton at the will of the blasts. The ground under your rainboots had become mud and the further you trudged into the forest, the more the mud crept up your yellow shoe, slinging over you like liquid ropes.

“I’m going down the drop off again!” you were screaming to overpower the wind, radio to your mouth before you dropped it into your pocket and retrieved your bag to regather your rope.

“Be careful!” Seungcheol commandeered bitterly, muffled from your pocket. “It’s slippery as shit! Radio me immediately when you’re down, so I know you’re okay.”

Even as your face grew wet and sore from the whipping rain, you scoffed. A gloved hand shoved into your pocket, brought the radio back up to your red lips: “Stop being such a pussy!”

“Say yes, Y/n!”

You rolled your eyes. “Aye, aye.”

“... I’ll take that, asshole.”

Wet as a wipe, you slung your rope over the hook and prepared it in a slew of motions you’d by now memorized. Although, you noted your movements were awkward, somewhat impaired by the layers of fabric that encased you. Stubborn, you stood before the hook, grabbed onto the rope, and began walking backwards.

Your booted foot curled around the edge of the cliffside, and with the tightened rope you began your careful horizontal walk. Raindrops pelted your face like a clenched fist, but you only blinked away the water and tried to focus on stepping carefully down the side of the rockface.

KRRRRRRRRKKKKKK!

You screamed girlishly when your rope snapped from the hook, and you watched it come flying out over the ledge, before you realized, horrifically, you were already falling.

It was barely a second, just one blurry image of the weeping sky, before you were on the ground, groaning in pain. A pulsing ache creeped up your spine, and you twisted your body in the mud to put the weight on your side. You sighed into the mud, dirt on your squished cheek.

The rain was uncaring of your unfortunate situation, as you laid pathetically in the dirt, body scrunching up like an elastic, while your shadow was cast by sudden bursts of lightning. Panting, you pushed yourself up by your arms and felt blindly for your-

Where was your radio?

Your pocket was deflated and empty, and you scrambled in the dirt, desperately, pushing yourself up completely to scan the area. You noted how the pain subsided into a small, dwindling soreness, thanking whatever God for your layers of clothing and the softness of the earth.

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision, aided by another strike of lightning atop Aluralura Mountain. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side.

“Hello? Seungcheol?”

There was no static to indicate your message had been relayed, and the usual red digital numbers telling you what channel you were on was gone, a simple, black screen remaining, mirroring your muddied face, twisted in anguish.

“Fuck this,” you hissed, standing up on two legs. You looked back up to where your lookout tower was still ablaze, a yellow box in the heights. The rope was fucked. You had to go down anyway. Huffing, you started walking.

You marched through the undergrowth, crossing through unpathed forest to reach the destination. It was near a hollow marked on your map, and so the expedition, although scarier, more empty and dark without Seungcheol's warm voice, was mild.

Wet petals brushed your face from rows of bushes, and even through your gloves the cold left your fingertips numb. You sniffled in the dark.

You found the hollow, then you found the tree. There was, indeed, ash going up the side of it, seemingly stemming from a smaller bush in the clearing, but the fire had been long put out by the insistent rain, and partially you felt disappointment that you’d trekked all the way out here, only for there to be no real danger.

Heavier than ever, you turned your gaze to the glowing hut in the distance.

You almost wanted to go back to your own hut, to turn your back to Seungcheol’s glowing tower and forget this ever happened. The anticipation of seeing him - of him seeing you - was a tall wall to overcome. But, you realized, not only was his tower closer; you also needed help.

Your radio was fucked, your rope was fucked and moreover, you needed to be sure you hadn’t done irreparable damage to your back. With water dripping over the ledge of your hood, you began walking towards Seungcheol.

Rainwater cascaded off the edge of the trees and the consistent dashed dots looked like tiny glass orbs in the light of Bay Valley Tower. It was intensely quiet for a while - it seemed like every bush-tailed critter of the forest had scuttered away to hide from the rain and the echoing growling of the sky.

“Y/n!”

You were so tired you almost could’ve missed it. Each layer of fabric weighed you down and the dirt smearing your cheeks and hands and fabrics could’ve melted you right into the earth. But indeed, a voice - so familiar it almost hurt - was calling to you in the dead of night.

“Seungcheol?” your first call was not a call, but a whisper, as you peered into the thick grooves of the forest. Then, your senses returned to you and you screamed as loud as you could: “Seungcheol!”

“Y/n!”

You and Seungcheol called for each other, syllables echoing off the huge, towering presence Aluralura Mountain. Getting closer and then closer, and then you could see the figure of another raincoated person, shaded by a hood.

“Y/n? Oh, thank God!” He ran to you, swimming in the rubber of his red coat and pink lips peeking over the closed hood.

It was a little paralyzing. He was so beautiful, you didn’t even know which speck of his shadowed face to look at. Tan, wet skin and big eyes from which the longest, blackest lashes you’d ever seen sprung. Most notable were his fuzzy, blocky eyebrows sitting over his brown eyes, fine wrinkles springing from the corners (you’d like to think you’d helped create some of those). His lips were big and bright and pouty, but it was wiped away when he smiled at the sight of you, and you could die, because a dimple indented itself in his cheek at the motion.

“Are you okay?” his smile faded when you said nothing, only stared at him, and then stared at where his thick fingers wrapped around your arm. He leaned into you and God, you hadn’t seen him before this very moment, and now he was leaning over you and he was so close and he smelled like pinewood, and you were pretty sure you smelt exactly the same.

You lowered yourself from your daze, trying to follow the pattering of rain atop both of your hoods. “Uh,” you gulped, finding his eyes, “yeah, I jus’... I thought you were joking when you said you weren’t white.”

His laugh. His laugh was even prettier in person and it had the same rasp and the same disapproving hint to it that it had had at all your other jokes. “You’re unbelievable, you know that, Fermata?”

“Bird watching is crazy, man.”

He smiled and studied your face for a moment, still leaned over you and thoroughly ignoring the rain and the thunder and the dirt on your boots. Then the smile faded, just a little: “What happened to your radio?”

“Oh- oh my God! Do you- do you remember my first day? The drop off! I fuckin’- fell down, my rope came undone on the hook! My radio was knocked the fuck out, it was crazy, I’m gonna need a new one-”

“Are you okay? You fell?” Seungcheol’s strong eyebrows became furrowed and the sight was so utterly mesmerizing to you. You waved him off: “I’ll be fine, please, I just want to get out of this weather.”

Seungcheol did not seem to entirely believe you, but nonetheless he grabbed your hand - in his own rough, used one - and started leading you upwards (“If I don’t hold your hand, how can I be sure you don’t fall down another drop off?”).

Time was not as agonizingly slow by his size, and the tower seemed to propel towards you and the hands on your wristwatch seemed to move backwards. Not before long, you were climbing up the stairway with Seungcheol’s iron fist on your wrist, so as to prevent you from falling down something else (you had a feeling that he would not let this go).

“I’m gonna make us some tea,” grumbled Seungcheol when you arrived.

“Yes, please,” you murmured. Your coat was folded beside you, starry raindrops soaking into a blanket thrown over his bed.

It was warm in Seungcheol’s tower house - he had half a brain to put an electric heater in the corner of the room, unlike you - and it was only the sudden embrace of warmth that had you looking out into the park and realizing you would have frozen to death if you’d stayed.

There was a warm glow from a naked bulb in the ceiling (you guessed Seungcheol had put it up himself), an old rug full of sand-corns, and a shelf with various books. Seungcheol also had a small kitchen, a desk and a bed, just like you. The layout was exactly the same, but sitting down on Seungcheol’s bed, you noted he must’ve made some alterations. Your fingers pulled at the white of the mattress - it was his own and it was much softer.

When the electric kettle (a rusted, iron old thing) was cooking, Seungcheol turned to you sheepishly and unzipped his coat. You waited in secret anticipation for his supposedly smoking-hot bod, but were disappointed to see another sweater underneath it.

Seungcheol stopped the kettle and took two large mugs from his cupboard. These, he placed on a carved tray (you thought he might have made it himself from pinewood), and then from a small, wooden tea box on his countertop, he produced two bright yellow tea packets, which he gently placed in the mugs. Then he poured in the water, steam traveling up to open his pores and whatnot.

“Do you want anything in yours?” he asked, not really looking.

“Uhm. No, no, thank you,” your hands were folded in your lap.

He only grunted in response and left one tea untouched, then took a clear, plastic container of honey from an array of unrefrigerated condiments, and squirted half the bottle into his tea. He sniffled when he was done, grabbing the tray and turning to you. Tonight, Seungcheol was uncharacteristically nervous.

“Can you-?”

“Hm?”

“That little- little table over there-”

“What?”

“Can you grab it?- For- for the tray?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

The tea sat on the tray and the tray sat on the foldable table and you and Seungcheol sat before them on the edge of his bed. You took the hefty mug in your hand and took a slurp, looking over at him from the rim. Seungcheol looked at you awkwardly. He did not move for his tea.

“I should take a look at your back,” he said.

“What? Why?” you quacked disapprovingly. “You fell on it,” Seungcheol reminded you.

You shook your head silently. “I like your hut. It’s way better than mine.”

“I’ve been here longer,” Seungcheol shrugged. You looked at him and he seemed displeased - this would not have been a big deal were you speaking to him on the radio, but his aura was much more commanding in person - something about his eyes, you thought. You had to look away, settling on your mug again (there was a cartoon dog on it).

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmured. Seungcheol stared into the side of your face and his obvious concern for you weighed down at your muscles.

A gentle pause where rain pattered his roof.

“Are you okay?”

You glanced over, nervously: “Tired.”

He bit his lip: “Maybe I should’ve made coffee... Can we put instant coffee in tea?”

“Seungcheol, I wanted to ask you something,” you said and put your mug down on the tray again with a small ‘clink’. Seungcheol rubbed his hands over his trouser-clad thighs, nodding, maybe more nervous than you. The warm glow of the bulb made him even prettier and all was warm and dry in the hut, even though rain was falling down in thick curtains just outside by the troughs. “It’s just..” you began, “you’ve been so avoidant about this.. Jun guy..”

Seungcheol’s sigh interrupted you before you could finish: “He was just the guy that worked here before you.”

“I found another letter.”

Seungcheol’s furrowed expression softened and he looked at you with big, glassy brown eyes, hidden under a waft of choppy bangs. What was that in the shine of his pupil? Fear? Vulnerability? Sadness?

“It was about- it said he was gonna go be with his mother and that- that he would miss you,” you explained and your voice was snotty and throaty, and your eyes averted to a folded napkin beside a half-eaten slice of bread. A fly circulated it hungrily.

Seungcheol’s lips made a tight line, dimples poking out pathetically. He cleared his throat and you heard the strain in his vocal chords once more (and it was so real because there he was - right beside you).

“Me and Junhui came here together. We’d just finished college and we didn’t want-.. We didn’t want to be adults yet. Like, an office job, wife and kids,” he began and there was a tremor about Seungcheol tonight. “I don’t think he was made for a job like this though. I think the loneliness got to him.. Think he just lived with it ‘cause he could tell I liked it.”

You nodded along until he wasn’t speaking anymore. Then a thick silence absorbed the two of you, a patch of moss drowned in the downpour.

“His mom was dead, so..” he whispered. Tears gathered at his waterline like a string of stars. “So, yeah, he went to.. To be with her.”

“I’m so sorry, Seungcheol,” you whispered and the echoing whispers of the storm bouncing off the rock faces of Aluralura mountain beckoned your hand onto his woolen sleeve. “I had no idea.”

“They never found his body, you know? He’s just out there, somewhere,” both you and Seungcheol turned your heads out to the pitch black expanse of the massive park. Your mind wandered to every crook and crevice you’d seen out there, wondering if a dead body had hidden behind a quarry rock. “Fuckin’ terrified I’ll find him one day. Just… Rotten.”

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say? Even though you’d stood in a similar situation - losing a friend - you couldn’t find anything that could ease his pain, the pain that was now tinting the light blue and dulling the sound of the rain. The whole room was pulsating. Luckily, it seemed Seungcheol had something more to say. You watched his lips pucker as the words tried to leave his tongue, then watched them draw back.

“He used to.. He used to say this thing. It reminded me so much of what you- you said that night about, uhm, your friend’s friend. He used to say that- that sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and he’d just be.. Totally.. Convinced that he was at the bottom of Fermata Lake and he was drowning,” Seungcheol’s voice broke one too many times and his jaw clenched. “God, I was so worried. Jus’ thought I couldn’t- I couldn’t be the reason that happened again.”

“I…” A tear slipped down your face and your hand left Seungcheol’s arm to wipe it, furiously.He turned to you pitifully, the broad width of his shoulders hanging low. “I’m sorry- you weren’t meant to feel that way-”

“It’s okay. I wanted to help,” Seungcheol grabbed your hands in his, a deep frown on his lips.

You stopped the tears, face burning hot and wet when you looked up at him again, calmed. His thumbs stroked over the backs of your hands. The pads were rough and beaten.

“Y’know it was sort of the same for me,” you said. Seungcheol waited for you to talk patiently and with a small, encouraging smile, as warmth streamed from his hands into yours.

“Yeah, my- uh roommate - best friend - died. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how I found him, like, his hand was just outstretched towards- towards the wall to my room, and he must’ve just lied there while his heart was giving out and I wasn’t there-... And I found him the next morning like that and I thought he was asleep and I left him there. Again. And I just can’t stop seeing him everywhere and for a while I was afraid that he would move, you know, like, start crawling towards me or some shit, but I think now I’m actually more afraid that he’ll never move. I think that’s the joke or whatever, he just won’t move, he’ll just be there the way I left him- and I guess- I guess, I thought I could find some sort of higher purpose out here, but I just can’t.. I feel more as though.. Like, it was these things that took him away from me, these fundamental parts of- existence. Like all the cliffs have evil faces and they want to take me too, and maybe I did want them to take me, but not- not anymore. I don’t know if that makes any sense?”

You peered up at Seungcheol through your lashes, wet and heavy. He was frowning, hands gripping yours tighter.

“You don’t want them to take you anymore?” he asked quietly. You shook your head. “How so?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it has much to do with me or the park. I think-” you gaze flitted to Seungcheol and he smiled knowingly. You scoffed and smiled too.

Although you both were fully clothed (Seungcheol annoyingly so), it felt as if all the layers had been stripped away one by one; sweaters and trousers, skin and meat and bones. All there was left were two brightly glowing hearts in front of one another.

“It’s okay,” he whispered then. “You don’t have to say it.”

You rolled your eyes: “I think it’s because of you.”

He grinned, wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes and cheeks bunching up in shiny, red fat. You poorly suppressed your own grin and the two of you leaned into each other when your eyes hooked, laughing into each other's shoulders.

“You’re so dumb,” you complained, forehead scratching against the stiff, knitted threads in Seungcheol’s shirt.

“I think- I think we both jus’ get dumber together,” you could feel his smile into your neck and the hot stream of air that bounced against the skin.

Right as you were about to pull away, Seungcheol’s arms wrapped around your back and pushed you back into him. You giggled at the motion, but with little thought your own arms wrapped around his back too, and your knees clashed where they met.

“Seungcheol?” your voice was muffled by his neck. His only response was hum, that ruminated from deep in his throat right by your ear. You pulled away until you were staring at his face.

Each thick stroke of eyebrow hair, each long, black eyelash and each mole dotted on his softly aging skin was crystal clear then. Your hands wrapped around his biceps and felt your heart buzz at their pronounced carvings under the wool. Seungcheol smiled down at you in a sort of adoring way.

“I think-” you began, then felt stupid, then felt idiotic and cowardly. “I don’t know- I think we should kiss now?”

It came out as more of a question than a statement.

Seungcheol gravelled a laugh and his eyes became all squinty and he pursed his lips as if it concealed his amusement in any way at how you squirmed beneath him and your face heated up.

“I think you’re right,” he nodded and you could barely register the feeling of joy that exploded in your chest, before Seungcheol’s pillowy lips crashed into yours at the same instance as a crack of thunder.

The lightning was a flickering show to the performance of yours and Seungcheol’s passionate kiss. His lips molded to yours and yours to his, warm and chapped and your hands couldn’t help but wrap around the soft planes of his cheeks - to pull him further, to keep him with you.

Seungcheol grappled for your hips, and you moaned in a sort of discombobulated agreement, as he, with shocking ease, pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body, stroking and pressing into the meat, left a burning ghostly trail behind it.

“Can I be honest?” you mumbled in between bitten kisses and panted breaths. “You’re hotter than I imagined.”

Seungcheol smiled into the kiss at that: “You too, baby. Now you get the real thing, hm? After fucking your sweet pussy thinking about me?”

You whined in response, hips canting down into his and head dropping into the warm crook of his neck. You licked mindlessly at the skin, rolling your hips into his. Seungcheol groaned and steel hands halted your eager core.

“Desperate so quick?” he quirked, and you cried out because how could even begin to describe how hot it was that he could entirely still your movements so nonchalantly? You swallowed before you tilted your head from the safety of his neck.

“I have waited so fucking long for your cock, Cheol. I need it inside me now,” you said seriously, and it was his turn to swallow the rising viscous in his throat, before he nodded and pushed you off his lap to remove his trousers.

You saw the way the metal of the belt reflected the light, as he (almost angrily) began journeying it off his middle, and you took the hint, beginning to discard your clothes. Your first sweater fell to the floor, then the next followed, and then you were stomping the floor to rid your soaked trousers. Another article of clothing that was soaked - your panties! And embarrassingly so, you thought, watching the slick, wet patch as you lowered the material to the floor.

Only then did your attention return to Seungcheol, now fully naked in his hut with windows on all sides, and you audibly gasped.

His torso was one huge slab of muscle and meat. The skin was relatively pale, pronounced pecs and his arms were like tree trunks at his sides. His thighs were fucking huge, indentations of muscles peering through his skin, as he impatiently worked his boxers off.

He halted though at your gasp, smirking cockily before returning to his work.

“Is it as good as you imagined when you came thinkin’ ‘bout me?” he muttered as his boxers slid down his calf. Too busy staring at his girthy, leaking cock sprouting between his legs, you neglected to answer and Seungcheol continued in a deliberately raspy tone: “Jus’ thinking about your pretty moans, my cock’s aching for you, princess. You’re not gonna come warm it up, beautiful?”

“Yes-” you stumbled over a treacherous boot, “yes, I am!”

“Good girl,” Seungcheol rumbled, bemused, as your knees floundered into the mattress and back into his lap. Seungcheol seemed to have other plans, however, because as soon as you had found your footing, and his warm hands were sliding up your back and his neck was craned up to you, breath hitting your breasts, he raised you and flipped you over, so you were digging into the mattress and he was above you. The shadows only served to define the chisel of his arms further.

His hand slid down your soft thighs, settling in between your legs to run two fingers through your folds.

“Your pussy is so pretty,” he whispered, somewhat mesmerized at the slick coating his fingertips. You squirmed impatiently and he shushed you, ever so gently: “Shh, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Immediately following up on his promise, the two fingers snaked down to your sensitive, pulsing hole, prodding gently. You wiggled and whined, one of your hands (which had been gripping his bedsheets) stopped him at the wrist. He stopped, eyes flitting up to your flushed, shiny face questioningly.

“I wan’ your cock now. No prep,” you scowled, strands of hair sticking out messily. Seungcheol frowned.

“I need to-”

“I’m wet enough, please, been thinkin’ ‘bout this since-..” you cut yourself off with a frustrated sigh, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile at how fucked out you were already, so precious, all beautiful and naked and womanly.

“You sure?” he asked, voice matching the depth of the thunder. You nodded eagerly: “Please, please-”

“Okay,” he murmured, sticky hand leaving your burning pussy in favor of pressing it against the underside of your thigh. At the command of his strong hands, your body folded in half and the realization of your position had you crying out pathetically. “Anything for my beautiful baby.”

My. His. The word choice had you clenching around nothing, all spread out for him while he lined his pretty, red cock up with your entrance.

“Gonna feel real full in a minute, yeah?” he said absently, watching intently at how your pretty pussy was splayed out and ready and aching for him, mind reeling at the sight of you and the smell of you and how you felt under his hands.

And suddenly it was there - a mountain of pressure building around the head of his cock as it pushed inside, bursting when he pushed in a little further, until he was fully nestled inside. Seungcheol was not unaffected, body curling over yours animalistically with a deep, throaty groan. You, too, had to squirm and moan wantonly, as your body shone under the bulb.

“You’re so tight, pretty,” Seungcheol managed, face scrunched up, as his pelvis met your pubic bone. His hands gripped your shaking legs once more, fully folding you in half and you cried as the movement invited him further inside, feeling him brush the spongy spot inside you.

“Feel s’good!” you moaned, even as he hadn’t moved yet, and Seungcheol’s hands squeezed you in response.

Experimentally (perhaps fearful, as you had rushed into it without preparation), Seungcheol thrust shallowly and was pleased at your broken cry, so he did it again and then again, and then he was building up a rhythm and your sultry moans were slipping through the cracks of the hut and bouncing off the walls of Aluralura mountain and echoing twenty times over.

There was nothing sweet about the pace of Seungcheol’s hips. He was pistoning in and out with an impressive agility, huffing over your folded body. It was desperation; the way your nails raked over his back and his sloping arms, and sweet, little whimpers and your pussy choking his cock.

“Sweetest, prettiest-” he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, stomach caving inwards and clenching. “Fuck, cutest, little princess being stuffed full of my cock.”

“Love your cock,” you babbled, “Love- love your cock, love you.”

The words slipped out as if they were nothing, but their meaning was solidified by your raking hand sneaking up to his neck and pulling him down into another sloppy kiss. Tongues melding and spit trickling down your chin as he hummed into your mouth in the most wonderful way.

“Love you, too. Pretty, funny, sweet girl-”

“A-ah, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you warned, voice nothing but a breath, and your face pleasured, scrunched up in the dead of night. Your stomach was a well of pressure.

“I know, baby, I know. Squeezing me so tight,” he soothed, hands running up and down the plush underside of your thighs, as his hips continued their unrelenting pace. “Come on, cum on my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Seungcheol-” a string of curses and his name followed as your pussy clenched one last hard time and your cum seeped out around his thick, veiny length.

Holding his own orgasm at bay, he clenched his jaw and gritted out: “Where d’you want my cum?”

“Inside!” you mewled, overstimulated and sore, and legs still pressed to your chest, clammy and slick.

Seungcheol would’ve made a snarky remark was he not already cumming at your words, white seed painting your insides and spilling out around his softening length. He thrust a couple more times, relishing in the sounds of your fucked-out moans before he’d emptied himself, and he dropped down beside you.

Due to the nature of a one-person bed, you and Seungcheol were both pressed close to one another, covered in sweat. Your panting, huffing breaths synchronized and you stared into each other's eyes, all wild and blushed.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, brought back to reality by a distant calling owl. You were still in the park, you realized - not some other pleasure dimension like one may have thought. Seungcheol smiled giddily.

You looked out into the wasteland, and your eyelids and limbs (draping over Seungcheol’s big, pretty body) were suddenly heavy. You yawned.

“D’you think we have to stay up anymore?”

Seungcheol watched you gauging the pinelands with starry eyes. “You can go to bed,” he offered gently, “I’ll stay up and make sure the storm’s over.”

“Are you sure?” you mumbled, but you were already settling into the domes of his chest, closing your eyes. Seungcheol looked at you and thought you were adorable.

“Yeah.”

“Can you stay here?”

“Yeah.”

“Can your dick stay inside me?”

This prompted a laughter blooming all the way from his chest, where your cheek bunched up against the skin. His arm was wrapped around your back.

“Sure, baby.”

You mumbled something like ‘okay’ or ‘good’ or ‘thank you’, and you drifted off into sleep with his arms around you, and when Seungcheol was certain the storm had passed, he nuzzled his head into your hair and dozed off himself.

At the swimming red sky of dawn, your eyes pried open to see Seungcheol already awake, still wrapped around you.

Nonchalantly (that is to say: as if your chest was not bursting with glee), you nodded your head over to the window behind him:

“Is that not a black-billed cuckoo?!”

And Seungcheol thought that maybe you and him could find birds together elsewhere too.

#svt smut #seventeen smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol angst #svt angst #seventeen angst #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol smut #svt x you #seventeen x you #seungcheol x you #seungcheol x y/n #angst #smut

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cupoftaae · 2 years ago

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Growing Pains (KTH drabble)

Summary- You and Taehyung discover the struggles of parenthood as you take on the task of raising your 3 month old daughter, Kiyomi.

Warnings- mentions of postpartum struggles and attachment issues

word count- 1.6k

A/N- Hi guys! so after Ladybug got so much love I decided to make a another drabble to continue their storyline, this takes place months after their daughter is born. Hope you enjoy it!

Taehyung woke up to the sounds of crying. He sat up and looked over at his clock, it was 4:32am, and you werent in the bed.

Groaning, he pushed the covers back and began walking down the hall into his daughters room, finding you on the floor with her in your arms.

"Im sorry we woke you, go back to bed" you whisper, noticing the sudden appearance of your husband in the room. "are you guys alright?" he asked, ignoring your previous demand as he walked further in and sat next to you, eyes still sleepy from the abrupt awakening.

You sigh and gently rock the small baby in your arms as she wailed, becoming frustrated yourself. "she wont stop" you exhale, finally looking at taehyung. "maybe shes hungry?" he suggested, moving his hand to wipe away his baby's tears.

"She wont latch...so I dont think she is...I also changed her and put her in a lighter onesie incase she was too hot" you gesture to the new outfit on Kiyomi, of course taehyung smiled at the ladybug printed fabric.

"let me see her" he whispered, gently taking the frail 3 month old out of your arms. "Hi baby, you giving mommy a hard time again?" he kissed all over her face before pulling her against him, her tiny head resting on his shoulder as his hand rubbed her back.

"im so tired" your hands run over the front of your face, knowing you return to work tomorrow afternoon and not only would you be exhausted, you would be missing your baby.

Since Kiyomi was born, youve been home every single day making sure she was taken care of, of course Taehyung has been an excellent help as well, and you probably wouldnt have been able to do this without him, yet at the same time you couldnt express your fears of going back to work after maternity leave....you didnt want to let him down or make him feel like you didnt trust him. It wasnt ever about trust, it was about going hours and hours without being able to make sure your daughter was okay. What happens if she needs mommy? What happens if she starts to cry and he cant differentiate it from a hunger cry, dirty diaper cry, or a tired cry?

"go back to sleep, i'll take care of her" he yawned and stood up, one hand reaching down to help you to your feet.

"I cant sleep" you sigh, walking over to rearrange her crib and the blankets. "cant we just keep her in our room tonight? she can sleep in our bed" you finish.

Taehyung gently rocked her around as he paced the room, the small cries slowing down. "baby I thought we agreed its better for her to be in her own room, she is gonna be too dependant on us.....and why cant you sleep? you just said you were tired-"

"because I have a list of things I need to do Taehyung!" you turn around, "I have to pump because she didnt want to eat, and I need to make sure you have enough milk for tomorrow, plus extra just incase, and then I need to put my work clothes in the washer because I forgot, then dry them, and you know what?" you throw your hands up as you walked over and took your daughter "shes only 3 months old, theres no harm in having her in our bed, who cares! she wont even remember anyways" you scoff and walk out of the room.

You didnt mean to snap on him like that, in fact you felt bad as soon as you left her bedroom. Taehyung is a great dad and an even better husband, but you still found yourself unable to stay calm when the list of things piled on, you didnt know how everything was going to go tomorrow, and you were stressed.

"hey...Im sorry if I said anything to upset you" he whispered as he finally walked into your shared bedroom, his daughter now asleep on the comforter as you sat and tried to pump milk.

sighing, you turn to look at him. "I didnt mean to act like that...you didnt do anything wrong, im just on edge"

He slowly walked over and sat on the bed next to you, careful of the sleeping baby in front of him. "whats going on, sweetheart?"

You didnt respond right away, instead you shrugged and looked down at Kiyomi, feeling those stupid tears resurface to your eyes again. "talk to me angel..." he rubbed your back.

"I dont want to leave her" you spoke in a choked whisper, wiping your cheek quickly. "What do you mean?" he calmly responded.

"Work tomorrow, I dont want to go....I havent been away from her since she was born. Ive had 3 months but im not ready." you take a breath, gathering your thoughts. "I went to the supermarket yesterday to buy dinner by myself, and almost had a panic attack because I realized she wasnt with me"

"my love, its okay to feel like this you know?" he rubbed your back softly, his chest tightening upon hearing your struggles. "sounds like you might be experiencing some separation anxiety,"

"I wanna work from home" you protest, shaking your head. "I cant leave her, and Its not about you not being a good parent- because you are so good, probably better than me" you chuckle lightly, "I just need it for myself....I need to see her. I spent 9 months taking care of her, I knew where she was at all times, and now that shes actually here I get so worried something will happen"

"i know sweetheart, I know" his hand ran through your hair as you spoke, "If you really want to look for a job that allows you to work from home, i'll support you all the way, you know that....but I really think its important to go tomorrow at least, to tell them about whats going on"

You leaned against your husband, glad he was supporting you in such a vulnerable moment. "why cant I just call them tomorrow?" you sniffle

"because I think its good to just go in, the smaller steps you take, even if its just a day, will probably make things easier for you."

"mm....just tomorrow?" you look at him

"Just tomorrow, then you dont ever have to see that place if you dont want to, you can stay home and i'll pamper you both"

You giggled and shook your head, "no, I wanna work....just not outside the house"

"and I support that" he gently lifted your chin so he could kiss you.

You smiled and kissed him back, watching him carefully as you pulled away.

"You are so beautiful, I swear motherhood made you even more attractive than you already were" he grinned

you raised an eyebrow, looking down at yourself before looking at him, "are you kidding me? I have a suction cup attached to my tit right now, and my hair needs to be washed....dont even try to say I look good" you shook your head as you noticed the bottle was full, taking off the pump and pulling your shirt down as you crewed the cap on.

"Ah you dont see yourself how I see you, the fact you go through so much for our baby is what is beautiful to me, and just for the record, you could never shower again and i'd buy all the nose plugs in the world just so I could be near you and call you cute"

"shut uppppp" you whine and lean against the pillow, "thanks though....fatherhood looks good on you"

"now thank you, but we both can tell that its not physically" he laughed and stood, putting his hands on his belly. "sympathy weight" he patted his stomach, making you laugh.

"Hey, I didnt do that to you!" you retort

"Yes! you insisted that I eat with you every time you had a craving, and what did I do?"

"ate with me" you smile

"yeah, except you were eating and it went to the baby" he chuckled, "mine went to my stomach area"

"hey I think dad bods are sexy" you nudge him

he rolled his eyes jokingly and wrapped you in his embrace, both of you looking down at your finally sleeping daughter.

"next kid, you deal with those cravings alone" he teased, hand gently squeezing you closer.

You smiled brightly at his words, you couldnt handle another child right now, especially with your current mental state, but you knew in the next 3 years you would enjoy having a second baby.

"thats not gonna be for a while bubs, relax" you patted his thigh

"what if she gets lonely" he looks at you

"are you serious" you laugh, squishing his face "shes 3 months, plus she has us, and tannie. I promise she will be well entertained until we have another kid"

He huffed and slouched down, making you giggle.

He sat up and grabbed his phone, turning the video on as he began filming his sleeping baby. "I havent recorded anything in a bit, well thats a lie, I recorded her yesterday when I was playing airplane and she ended up puking on me"

Your giggles are heard off camera before he faces it towards you "Oh its funny huh?"

"shh, youre gonna wake her" you quickly cover the camera to hide yourself before he continues to ramble on about your baby. He's been doing this since that day you both found out you were expecting Kiyomi, and it still warms your heart to see a man so in love with his creation of life.

He was your rock, and she was your ladybug, and perhaps you would be okay after all.

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forwhump · 2 months ago

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a/n; some belated robin backstory 🥲 for doughnut, who I promised this to months ago & then FORGOT IM SO SORRY IM JUST AN AIRHEAD I WASNT INTENTIONALLY BEING A DOUCHE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING (I remembered out of nowhere within like ten minutes of finding out liam died so that’s why it took even longer)(I loved 1d 💔)(& bleach finally animated my WORST CHARACTER DEATH so I’ve had a really hard week)(if I was still 13 I’d be institutionalized)

word count: 4k (I only feel like I need to add a word count when these are especially long so idk why everything I’ve posted recently has been especially long that’s my bad 😔)

tw/cw: kidnapping, captivity, implied rape/noncon, drug use, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, medical torture, lobotomies, mentions of the military, passing threats of violence against pregnant women, implied human experiments

When Robin’s a kid, just a couple weeks after his dad dies, his mom brings home a new baby. A girl.

She’s really little but she shrieks at a pitch so loud and so shrill that sometimes it gives him headaches. Other times, it puts him in such a bad mood he has to rip all the sheets off his bed or all the posters down from his walls. She doesn’t really do anything but scream or sleep and still, his mother dotes on her, treats her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

Robin doesn’t get it. He doesn’t even really like her. He’d wanted a brother, anyway.

The baby’s first word is mama, which Robin doesn’t think is all that impressive. Her second word, however, is Rob, and he doesn’t know until he gets home from school and she squeals so loudly it makes his ears ring, clapping her little hands together.

“Rob!” She squeals. “Rob!”

“She’s been waiting all day for you,” his mother says with a smile.

He drops his backpack so he can pick her up, and she squeals again as she clings to him. “Rob!”

He doesn’t even try not to cry because he doesn’t realize he’s started crying until his mother wipes away his tears. After, of course, she takes a picture that she later has framed. A picture that he takes down and hides.

When Robin’s old enough, care of the farm falls pretty solely on his shoulders. He’d been expecting it — man of the house, all that. His sister’s very much a girl, all blonde and giggly, pink and frills, and their mother gets her into pageants when she’s still really small and pageantry comes with a pretty intense base level of maintenance. When mom washes her hair, it’s a whole day event. It’s kind of absurd.

When she first starts trying to follow him out onto the farm, he thinks it’s just to bother him. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s chosen to do something for the sake of being annoying. She asks, then she begs, then she just puts on her boots and tries to follow. When he ends up locking her in the basement to keep her inside, she tries tantrums, then she stomps to their mother and pouts.

“Take your sister with you,” she chastises.

Robin groans loudly. “She’s just gonna get in the way!”

She stomps a small foot and cries, “I can help!”

“No, you can’t!” Robin tells her. “You’re just a baby! And you’re scared of the horses!”

“You can’t tell me what I can’t do!” She shrieks. “I can help!”

“You can’t help!”

“Stop screaming,” their mother says, “both of you.”

“I can help, mama,” she whines.

“She’ll break a nail and throw a fit,” Robin groans.

“I don’t care!”

“You’d better care,” Mom says. “Be careful.”

She brightens, immediately done crying. “So I can go?”

“No,” Robin says, and her face falls again.

“I can help,” she whines. “Let me show you!”

“Let her show you,” Mom says.

Robin groans the whole way out. She skips beside him.

He eats his words, in the end. Even if it’s just to prove Robin wrong, she ends up being a big help. Not with the horses, not at all, but with almost everything else.

Turns out it’s because her motives aren’t to prove Robin wrong at all — she just wanted to get out to the cows. As soon as she’s finished, once Robin’s back is turned, he’s saying something like, “I can’t believe you weren’t totally useless,” and he looks back around and she’s gone, out to pasture. He finds her frolicking with the cows, laughing delightedly.

It’s like that for a few months. She follows him out, helps with actual farm work as quickly as she can, then disappears out to pasture to hang out with the cows. For the rest of their lives there together, in their childhood home, their jobs change; she tends to her cows, and Robin does everything else. It isn’t exactly fair, but Robin had grown up fully expecting to have to do all of it himself.

They settle into their routine, and they stick to it for years.

As soon as Robin’s eighteen, he enlists. He doesn’t hesitate. He’d always known he was going to.

His mom knows. She’s proud of him. He doesn’t tell his sister, because she won’t be.

When she finds out, she throws every plate in the house at him. Breaks every one.

The moon hangs low above the farm, casting everything in watery silver light. She sits on the fence in her boots and a pageant dress, this one so white and sparkly it kind of glows in the moonlight and it makes her look, frankly, like a ghost. She’d taken the pins out of her hair and it looks spectral, a cloud around her.

They’ve been passing a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — she’d won a world title tonight, something that warranted a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — and her ghost is really starting to crack him up.

“You’re being a dick,” she says, but she’s giggling helplessly. “I look so beautiful.”

“I can’t even look at you,” Robin says, and he isn’t lying, turned away as he laughs. “It’s making me mourn.”

She laughs so loudly she almost falls backwards off the fence, and that sets Robin off again.

He leaves next week. Six days exactly, the day after his very last high school exam. He hasn’t told her yet, and he doesn’t want to, especially not now, but he’s running out of time. He can’t leave without saying something, anything, but he’s tempted.

It’s almost like she’s read his mind. “Can I talk to you about something?” She asks carefully, and something in her tone makes Robin’s shoulders tense.

“If you’re pregnant you’re getting thrown down the stairs, girl,” he says. She snorts. “Mom’s gonna be pissed.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she says.

“I’m leaving on Friday,” Robin responds. He doesn’t mean to.

Uncomfortably quick, her face goes blank. “What?”

“Fuck,” Robin says. “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”

“What do you mean, you leave next week?” She asks slowly.

Robin looks away, out at her cows. “I fly out,” he says, “after exams.”

“Fly where?” She asks, now completely flat.

He doesn’t look at her, but he tries to smile. “My first tour.”

She doesn’t say anything for such a long time that he finally turns again, he looks at her.

She swings, and her fist gets him hard between the eyes. She doesn’t say another word to him as she leaves, and she doesn’t say goodbye to him before he goes. After that, he didn’t really expect her to.

War is hell.

Men are monsters.

The first time Robin gets to come home, it’s so good to be home. It’s the most unbelievably light thing he’s ever experienced, like taking his first, clean breath. He almost starts to understand the military appeal; the comedown after is the high.

When he gets home, his sister is trying not to be weird around him but she is, very blatantly. He thinks it’s because of how they left things; he’s wrong.

“Can we talk?” She asks, and there’s something so severe in her face that he thinks she’s probably cutting contact with him. It’s kind of a low blow. It stings.

He sits across from her, anyway. Waits.

For a long time, she doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t look at him. She doesn’t lift her head.

“Okay, what’s going on?” He asks finally. “Are you okay?”

She exhales loudly, but her voice is so small he can barely hear her when she says, “yes.”

“Then what’s up?” He probes. “What’s going on? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“No,” she says into her hands, “I’m not always pregnant,” and takes another deep breath. Robin waits. He gives her the time she needs, watches the way her shoulders move as she takes deep breaths, watches the way her hands tremble, hiding her face. Robin keeps his voice level and his hands steady and he waits, but he’s waiting for the worst. He isn’t sure exactly what he’s expecting, but he’s expecting it to be bad. He isn’t expecting, “I’m trans, Rob.”

She still doesn’t look at him. She still doesn’t lift her head. Robin says, “what?”

“I’m trans,” she tells her hands.

“Trans what?” Robin asks, and she does lift her head, then.

“What?” She says, like she can’t tell if he’s serious. “Gender?”

“What?” Robin repeats.

“Oh my god,” she says. “I’m a boy, Robin.”

“What?” He says, because he still doesn’t get it. Then, “oh.”

“Yeah,” she says, and — well, he says, actually. He says it, and he drops his head again, covering his face with his hands and the sheet of his hair. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“What?” Robin repeats. He’s gotten himself stuck in a weird loop. He’s thinking faster and a lot more than he usually does. “What’s — why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know,” she says. He says. He’ll get better at that. He’s an adaptable guy.

“Gonna have to stop overthinking,” Robin tells him. “Guys don’t do that.”

His back stiffens. He doesn’t lift his head. “What?”

“It’s why we sleep better,” he explains.

Reluctantly, he lifts his head. He’s always had a deceptively sweet face, kind of doe eyed, but when he looks at Robin he looks so scared, genuinely scared, that it kind of hurts Robin’s feelings. “Rob,” he croaks.

“Can’t doubt yourself like that,” Robin tells him, trying to shrug off the tension, and when he still can’t quite meet his eye Robin stretches a foot out across the carpet to kick him in the ankle. “Guys don’t do that.”

He barely looks at him from beneath his eyelashes, but he looks at him, and that’s progress. “This isn’t a joke,” he says.

“I know,” Robin agrees.

“I’m serious,” he says. “I’m seriously coming out to you right now.”

“I know,” Robin agrees again.

She covers her face again, and — he covers his face again, and it isn’t until Robin really looks that he realizes his shoulders are shaking. That he realizes — “do you have a…name? A new one?”

He hesitates for a long time before finally pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. With a sniffle, he says, “Wren, I think.”

“Wren,” Robin considers. He looks across their mother’s favourite gaudy rug at Wren, tries it on for size. “It suits you,” he decides, and Wren chokes out a sound that’s obviously a sob but that he had tried hard enough to hide that Robin lets it go. “All the names in the world, though,” he says. “You still picked a bird.”

He sniffles again. “We still had to match.”

Robin feels that really low in his chest, a lot warmer than he would’ve expected. “I’ve always wanted a brother,” he says.

When he finally comes home for good, none of the colours are as bright as he remembers them being.

Wren had moved out while he’d been away, and the house is a lot bigger than he remembers it being. It’s too quiet. He can hear too much when it’s quiet.

Wren comes to stay for a few nights, to welcome Robin home, and he brings his girlfriend with him, introduces her. Julie. She’d probably be very beautiful if Robin’s type were outrageously scary people.

All tattoos, everywhere, and piercings studded with diamonds that catch the light whenever she moves. Her hair is like ink and all her tattoos are thick, black, and she looks a lot like Wren’s opposite in a way that’s endearing for a long time. He likes Julie in the beginning; she’s cordial to him.

She’s less cordial over time, slowly but surely. Then comes a time she’s rude, that she’ll snatch Wren’s phone out of his hands to tell Robin to get fucked on the other end. Once, Wren shows up in the middle of the night to post his bail and take him home. He spends that night, then the next few on their couch, and Julie doesn’t say a word to him once. Doesn’t even look at him.

It comes to a head at his mom’s house. He’s there because Wren is supposed to be there, but he never even gets to see him; he only sees his bitch girlfriend, sneering down the doorstep at him.

“I don’t think you like me very much,” he accuses.

“I don’t,” she says.

“Oh.” He already lnew she didn’t, so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. That she’s so fuckin’ blunt about it, maybe. “Fuck you, too.”

“You’re a loser,” she tells him, and folds her arms. Robin’s quite a bit bigger than she is, but it doesn’t feel like it then. She’s an imposing little thing. “What’s there to like?”

“Okay,” he says tightly, “you suck, and —“

“You’re a cancer,” she says, “and I want you to leave Wren alone.”

That one hits Robin like a punch in the chest. He almost takes a step back, then pivots, because who the fuck does she think she is? Why should Robin cower? “Fuck you,” he says again. She just raises her eyebrows, smirks, and it’s so smug that it actually makes Robin hot all over. “Fuck you. He’s my brother.”

“Yeah?” She asks, and he doesn’t like her fuckin’ tone. “Because, from where I’m standing, it really seems like that didn’t matter to you all that much until Wren started making a lot of money.”

It makes all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “You have no idea —“

“Did he tell you we had to move?” She asks.

He’s still fuming and it crackles in his ears. “What?”

“Do you remember his apartment?” Julie says. “How excited he was? How much he loved it? But we had to move,” she tells him, “because we couldn’t keep up with it anymore, because such a substantial chunk of your brother’s income goes to funding his junkie brother’s crack habit.”

He tenses his jaw so tightly his teeth click. “You’re a bitch.”

“I’m not kidding,” she says, “and I’m telling you as gently as I think you deserve. You’re ruining his life. Leave him alone.”

Robin tries.

Really, he tries. He does what’s best for everyone and clears out his mother’s purse before making a home for himself in the gutter. He sleeps in the street and sits in the sun during the day, usually high. High if he can help it, anyway.

He sustains it for as long as it takes Wren to find him. He isn’t quite sure how long that is. He thinks he might have lost a lot of time.

Wren looks different. This Wren still has his Wren’s hair, his Wren’s abnormally large eyes. He’s still a pretty boy, but he’s a pretty boy, right? His jaw is a bit more defined. He’s got more angles, sharper angles, less softness and curve. He wouldn’t look out of place in an eighties hair band. How long has Robin been gone? How long has he been sleeping?

“You look good,” he says.

“You look like shit,” Wren tells him blandly.

“Yeah,” Robin agrees, scratching his neck. He accidentally opens a sore he didn’t know was there and scratches a little harder. “Where’s Julie?”

“Left me,” Wren answers.

“Oh,” Robin says, and stops scratching. “Why?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Why do you think?”

He flinches. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Well, y’know,” he says, scratching his forearm, “there’s other fish in the sea.”

Wren’s face falls. Sighing, he looks away, half hidden by his hair. Robin has half a mind to wonder if that’s why he hasn’t cut it. “I can’t do this shit with you anymore,” he says.

“What shit?” Robin says.

“All of this,” he says, but he turns back to reach out towards Robin and forcefully pry his hands away from the sides of his face. “And stop fuckin’ pickin’ your face.”

Contrarily, Robin’s skin doesn’t stop itching so he doesn’t stop scratching.

Wren doesn’t stop taking care of him, either.

For a while, Robin has a really good thing going, honestly, and there’s something comforting about being at home again with his mom and his brother. He doesn’t notice, for a long time, how much it eats away at Wren, because it eats away at him so slowly. He gets quieter.

Five months after Wren decides he’s done taking care of him — and takes care of him, still — Robin clears all of the big bills out of his wallet before he wanders out onto the farm to grovel and ask to borrow a measly fifty bucks. He never quite makes it that far.

The cows are out, so it isn’t hard to track Wren down, but Robin never quite makes it over to him. He’s sitting in the grass, back against a fence post. Daisy has her head in his lap, and he’s got a hand between her ears, but it’s still. He’s staring off into nothing. It looks like he might be crying.

And that makes Robin so dreadfully uncomfortable he turns right back around and goes inside. Because that’s probably a little bit his fault, right?

He doesn’t leave then, but he notices it more. Wren stares off into space a lot. Cries when he doesn’t think anybody else is around. Never mentions to Robin all the money that vanished from his wallet.

Robin leaves a week later.

It takes Wren three months, this time, to track him down.

Robin’s been sleeping on the floor of an abandoned apartment building, and it’s kind of surreal, waking up to Wren, cross legged on the floor with him. It’s a relief to see him. “Can I b-borrow a c-couple bucks?”

The way Wren looks at him makes him miserable. He tells Wren it’s their mother, it’s the way mom looks at him, and it is, to a degree. His mother still looks at him like she’s proud of him, her son the soldier, her son the patriot, but the way Wren looks at him is worse. Wren’s disappointed in him, and that could almost make him throw up.

He’s trying to get Robin to come home, to get clean, and Robin’s trying to get some money out of him. He’s having a hard time focusing, he’s shivering, but not with cold, with a sort of fever that makes his skin crawl too tightly over his restless bones. When the door explodes open, Robin registers it a second after it’s already happened. The soldiers he doesn’t even see until they’ve already swarmed the room, covered every exit, pulled Robin to his knees by his arms and his hair. They knock his blanket loose, and he shivers until one of them grabs Wren by his braided hair, wrenches his head back, points his gun.

Not everything comes into focus, but it tries. This is really happening and this is really bad.

Their captain is a big guy that looks more like the Hollywood movie version of a soldier than a soldier. He has an arrogance to him that puts Robin on edge, that he’s only ever seen in very dangerous, very powerful men. The way he looks at Wren makes Robin sick.

When he knocks Wren unconscious, it’s with a wet cloth and a gloved hand over his mouth.

Robin begs. He hasn’t been above begging for a long time. The way the captain is looking at Wren — he’s seen what happens to people who get looked at like that.

And this is Robin’s fault.

This is all his fault.

It makes him think of Julie. He can’t remember the last time he saw her, or even the last time he really thought about her, but he thinks of her now. You’re ruining his life, she’d told him once.

She was right.

For a long time, he’d been ruining. Now, it’s in ruins at his feet. And it’s all Robin’s fault.

They try to make him watch, but he struggles and vomits himself into unconsciousness.

They take him to a weird, grey place tens of minutes below ground. They give him weird, grey clothes and they throw him into a weird, grey prison.

Wren isn’t there.

He meets Hal, and he meets June, and he begs them, too. They have to know something, anything. Maybe they heard one of the soldiers say something, even in passing.

They look at him like he’s crazy. They don’t even believe him.

Robin spends his first week in his weird, grey prison completely hysterical. Then a couple of men, dressed almost liked orderlies but masked, all in black, come to haul him away, kicking and screaming. They drag him through this weird, grey hellscape to a surgical room from a nightmare, entirely black. They strap him down to a black surgical table. The surgeons that hover around him wear black masks and caps and gloves.

One of them takes a long, black needle. He holds it up, into Robin’s field of vision, before he turns the point into the inner corner of his eye. “This will probably hurt,” he explains, “but you won’t think to complain.”

“What the fuck?” Robin shouts. He thrashes, but he’s restrained to that table so tightly he can’t turn his face away, not even an inch. “What the fuck! Get the fuck away from me!”

“This will make your development easier,” another says. He speaks with the slow, flat voice of an old movie mad scientist and Robin’s heart physically aches in his chest. Never, not once in his life, has he been so scared it’s made his heart ache. “It’s in your best interest.”

“Get the fuck away from me!” Robin screams.

But he’s still. He tries to thrash, to turn away, and he can’t. He can only watch that needle close in on his eye, and scream as it pierces it.

He screams until he can’t.

#this is a little wren centric at times but that is obviously just because wren is a special love of my life & im obsessed with him #whump #whumpblr #whump scenes #whump blog #whump series #whump tag #whumpee #whump community #whump writing #whump fic #whump snippet #whump story #whump stuff #whump things #whump angst #whump wip

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romandaandromeda · 8 months ago

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the amazing circus of not real episode 2:

[SPOILERS OF PARODIC NATURE AHEAD]

[buttonblossom shipping art at the end too in other news]

pomni: i am going to die a nobody because i [%$!#]ed up bad yesterday

ragatha: pomni

pomni:

ragatha: :(

caine: go to the candy place and catch some varmints

bubble: https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~biglou/resources/bad-words.txt

zooble: no

ragatha: pomni

pomni: uh

IN CANDY WORLD

everyone: this place looks awesome

[happy gangle dies]

princess loolilalu: hello youre all welcome here :)

ragatha: pomni (positive)

pomni: (negative)

ragatha: :(

princess loolilalu: you have to get our syrup back

ragatha: you got it

jax: i hope nothing but death and gore and violence and all that is unholy in the eyes of god happen today

jax: by the way gangle [%$!#] you

ELSEWHERE IN CANDY AUSTRALIA

gummygators: we gotta stop these guys from taking our rightful syrup

jax: i have a gun let’s kill these guys

gangle: lets not do th

jax: i have a gun let’s kill gangle

ragatha: pomni

jax: yeah pomni be useful for once

[he throws her out of the magical semitruck that i forgot to mention and gets wedged between the syrup truck and the semitruck, conflict ensues]

jax: i’ve really gotta let out my violence pomni be a dear and just keep cool

pomni: i hate you

[pomni gets unstretched]

jax: well look now i cant do my violence thing

gummygators: lets throw them off our trail

jax: lets kill them

[chase scene continues]

jax: lets kill them

ragatha: BUT POMNI

jax: gangle (specifically) lets kill them or i’ll blackmail you

gangle: 😃

[the gators freaking stab the semitruck and impale ragatha]

kinger: i will save the day and pomni

[he throws an anchor]

jax: :|

[the semitruck falls into chocolate river]

jax: you are responsible for every tragedy and atrocity ever committed in history i don’t know why anybody even trusts you anymore

gangle: :(

[pomni and gummigoo clip into the blue void of nonexistence]

IN THE BLUE VOID OF NONEXISTENCE

[gummigoo discovers he’s not real]

gummigoo: what is going on

pomni: uhm

gummigoo: what are we in the end

gummigoo: are we even real

gummigoo: what (philisophical)

BACK IN CANDY WORLD

[the gang are alright]

ragatha: i hope pomni’s okay

jax: could you literally shut up about pomni and focus on the now

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: im gonna eat you

ragatha: dont actually

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: oh man im sorry

jax: what the heck are you anyways

the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie: im the fudge and i eat people which is why i got banished to this river

ragatha: dear god

jax: you’re actually the coolest thing i’ve ever experienced (ragatha you have licorice hair)

ragatha: >:(

jax: i’ll help you get back into the kingdom if you help us

[the 2 remaining gummygators fall right into the chocolate river]

BACK IN THE BLUE VOID OF NONEXISTENCE

[pomni attempts to get a truck moving]

pomni: are you alright

gummigoo: no i’m literally just a puppet

pomni: i feel you man

gummigoo: we’re fake things for your crew to stop every time

pomni: well you still have your crew up there and you care about them like they do you right

gummigoo: why does this matter

pomni: because nobody should go through this at any point

gummigoo: well then let’s get ourselves out of this mess

pomni: we gotta get the truck to glitch out again

[so they do exactly that and have a bit of a moment in the teapot zone]

BACK IN CANDY WORLD

jax: well this sucked

gangle: why

jax: i wanted to kill people

ragatha: so they’re just gone

the 2 remaining gummigators: yeah

ragatha: right

kinger: well caine could find her easily

ragatha: yeah but she could be suffering and she isn’t fond of me after what happened yesterday

kinger: dont let it get to you maybe she’s just adjusting to this word like you did when you were new

ragatha: true

kinger: huh

[pomni and gummigoo burst out of the ground and kill the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie by landing at mach 1 on him]

ragatha: POMNI

pomni: hi and i made a friend

[both gangs agree on taking the two syrup trucks on their own ways]

jax: https://youtu.be/rPKN7-pTpCY?si=YtSnNuJD1hlICZ1G

ragatha: maybe next time

jax: shut the [%$!#] up maybe

pomni: btw this is gummigoo and he’s joining the circus

ragatha: sounds good to me

jax: SHUT UP

princess loolilalu: you saved our kingdom

princess loolilalu: have fun killing that gator

pomni: yeah (sarcastically)

[that scene when the tripod emerges in war of the worlds 05 but with the greedy from the 1977 raggedy ann movie happens off screen]

jax: hehe

ragatha: WHAT DID YOU DO

princess loolilalu: no seriously what did you do

jax: bye

BACK IN THE DIGITAL CIRCUS

caine: welcome back everyone

gummigoo: this place is nice

caine: oh

[gummigoo perishes]

caine: just a precaution

[pomni loses her mind]

caine: okay bye

zooble: good riddance

ragatha: well maybe he’ll return some day

[the gang without jax hold a funeral for kaufmo]

[genuinely a pretty emotional scene and pomni feels assured]

THE END

in summary for fellow buttonblossom shippers:

#romanda says stuff #the amazing digital circus #tadc #parody #in a nutshell #buttonblossom #ragapom #pomni x ragatha #pomatha #jesterdoll

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imlivinginyourtrashcan · 1 year ago

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Hi hey hello halloween was 2 days ago so here are my southpark halloween headcanons cuz im a spooky gremlin all year (Possible part 1 cuz i write alot and idk if tumblr has a word limit)👍

Cartman:

His costume is either really extra or really basic because he forgot until last minute.

Its usually inflateable like a dinosaur, pizza or...other things.

Usually the one to pick the route they go on when trick or treating so he can get the most candy, but it backfires because of all the walking.

The type of mf to eat his candy while hes out trick or treating (me too, i get it)

He steals the entire take 1 bowl you cant change my mind. Also the type to grab aggressive fistfuls when someone says to just take one or two pieces of candy

Thinks haybales and haunted houses are gay

Will throw fake decorations at you as a joke, but the realistic ones that make you yell (severed hands, bugs, etc)

His house isnt that decorated since i KNOW Liane is the cool mom who gives out full sized candy bars but its the inside that counts

Takes pumpkin carving VERY seriously. But doesnt do that much, or he tries and gives up.

A dumbass when it comes to candy trading. Always falls for the tricks Kyles got

Kyle:

I love kyle, but you know hes dressing up as the most basic things every year...hes TRYING THO HES TRYING

Takes Ike with the boys when hes old enough

Tries to match costumes with Stan but stan always forgets

The BEST at carving pumpkins. Gut feeling Kyle is an art kid.

Thinks haybales are gay but is "ironically" scared of haunted houses

His mom is extra with decorations. You just know it

Secretly takes 3 pieces of candy from a take 1 bowl

Gives what he cant have to Stan since he cant eat pork n gelatin has pork in it 👍

Cartman tried nabbing his candy once and he whacked him with the candy filled pillow case he had

Expert candy tracker. That man knows which house has what and he is ON IT

Nightmare before christmas enjoyer, will i explain? No

Stan:

Hes like Kyle with the basic costume thing, just worse. Way worse

He is a ghost...almost every single year cuz he forgets to go costume shopping and he just says "fuck it" and uses a white bedsheet

Takes what he can get; he knows Shelleys gonna steal his shit anyway

That doesnt stop him from trying to hide it

Likes haybales but TERRIFIED of haunted houses he will NOT get in one

Mediocre pumpkin carver at best

His house aint decorated nor does it have candy cuz of randys ass. Forgetful ahh

Kenny:

Cant really afford costumes so stan, kyle and cartman help him DIY costumes

Also the kind of mf to grab the entire take 1 bowl

Makes it his MISSION to get all the candy he can get

Kinda eh on Haybsles, LOVES haunted houses

His house is never decorated, his family cant afford that

Good at candy trading cuz he can do puppy eyes

Really good at pumpkin carving, he just cant be the one getting the pumpkins.

Horror movie FANATIC!!! HE LOVES HORROR MOVIES!!!

He dies a lot that day very sad for him

Butters:

Rarely aloud to go out trick or treating, mans is ALWAYS grounded

When he CAN go out he cant ever stay out late which sucks so much

His costume is always something cute/creative, bro would probably go as like, an oc of his one year (projecting so hard i did this in the 4th or 5th grade)

Gets people to check his candy for him, hes scared of getting hurt or poisoned

Wants to go to the houses that have fruit or toothbrushes. It always goes like:

"Can we go to Ms Firkles house?" "The one that gives out apples?" "Yeah!" "Fuck is wrong with you?"

Loves Haybales, thinks theyre so fun

TERRIFIED of haunted houses, will not even STAND in a 100 ft radius of a haunted house

Flinches/Cries/Screams whenever a halloween decoration jumpscares him or is too loud

Horrified of horror moves

Not allowed to carve pumpkins, too dangerous. But he likes painting them!

Obeys the "take 1/2/3" rule like a good boy

His house is decently decorated, nothing extravagant

Craig:

Oh you know he is a "this is my costume" mf

Either that or something space related

Always the first in front in his group (Tweek, Tolkien, Clyde, Jimmy and Himself) cuz hes pretty unphased by everything

Loves carving pumpkins, him and tweek do the cute pumpkin carving stuff couples do

Cant eat most of the candy since he has braces, but he gives it to Tweek so its not a waste

Will hold Tweeks hand during horror movies, haunted houses and haybales.

A six flags fright fest enjoyer

This mf will look you dead in the eye and pour an entire bowl of candy into his bag if there arent any cameras or signs

The kind of mf to joke inside a ghost tour and purposefully try to piss off the ghost by flipping it off

The most undecorated house ever. Its like halloween doesnt exist to the Tuckers

Tweek:

He buys cool costumes but his makeup is so shaky and rushed since his ass cant sit still

Chugging pumpkin spice like a maniac

Terrified of any and all halloween activities. Jumpscare him and he will scream

Doesnt take candy from people or bowls, he stands awkwardly behind everyone and investigates his candy thoroughly before putting it in the bag

Either that or he'll have craig triple check it

His house is always decorated since Tweek Bros always has halloween specials and stuff

Does not sleep for the entire month of halloween, he survives on pumpkin spice and pure anxiety

Helps around the coffee shop by refilling candy bowls and doing halloween chalkboards (they look like scribbled messes but whatever)

The middle man in the group, he doesnt feel safe in the front or back

Carries Pepper spray with him when trick or treating, always very cautious to the point his friends grill him for it a little. Better safe than sorry

Clinging onto Craig half the night, the insomnias getting to him

Legally not aloud to carve pumpkins. He will accidentally knick his fingers

Loves halloween baking though, he does burn at least something and panics.

Clyde:

Oh you know hes the kind of mf to dress up like the glow in the dark stickman

Grabs aggressive handfuls of candy regardless of if its from a bowl or person

An absolute crybaby. Will cry when he sees the decorations

They cant decorate his house since hes a baby

Likes the pumpkin carving tho!

Always runs to thr house with full sized candy bars

Jimmy:

He is def going as an inflateable t rex/banana

Tells more jokes to people in hopes of getting more candy

Carves a wee wee into his pumpkin. He thinks its funny

Pretends to be scared on haybales to make Clyde feel better

His house is the one with custom decorations its so great

Scary movie enthusiast, joking and calling the characters dumb the whole time

He. Fucking. Loves. Frightfest

Hc that when hes older hes a scare actor part time

Admires the decorations

Tolkien

Bro probably got like, a ren faire costume yk? Like a count or something

Tolkien just seems likke the guy to go to ren faire every year

Expert pumpkin carver

Takess his friends to halloween fairs every year

The most overdecorated house (rich kid core)

Always saying the thank yous and happy halloweens when noone else will

Bro printed out a map of their trick or treat route

He takes some of his friends to ren faire too. Craig thinks its gay as shit

Likes the haybales, and the shit rides at the halloween fairs

Creeped out by haunted houses tho

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starsoftheeye · 7 months ago

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TMagP 17 Reaction

Pre-Episode

I've discovered that acting disinterested literally makes the episodes show up earlier on my youtube account, so I've gotta play mindgames on this app every thursday to get to see the episodes less than half an hour after they release lol

Pre-Statement

Ah Celia is back on her bullshit

Wait did she just nearly get ran over???

I feel bad for laughing at her but her only reaction being "Oh for gods sake" is super funny to me how long has she been doing this

oh hi sam

oh god she missed their date :[

something tells me a habit is going to be made of this, especially considering she literally cannot help it

"it really wasn't" yeah no wonder you nearly became roadkill

theyre so cute i love them

ooh shes mad

Statement

"catalyst" huh, have we heard that before or is this the first time

pfft not the interviewer getting read to shreds

wild theory before i keep going, based on the title "saved copy" and the "identity crisis", "existential horror", "temporal distortion" and "captivity" tags, im going to assume that this person going to therapys having the details of their life copied somewhere for something to replicate and replace them, and the doctors gonna attempt to get rid of them but obviously it didnt work. either that or the guy outside the office does something

as someone whos never done meditation before this is not encouraging me to start

ah office spaces, the worst of cosmic horror

wait did they get teleported or something

tbf if my taxi driver started driving completely the wrong way i'd assume the worst and start "exchanging words" too

oh my god was i right

wait is this copy based on their therapy, a version of themselves with no problems whatsoever? and is this gonna be a "there can only be one" type scenario?

oh wait no i forgot siblings exist

wait nvm them having the same name is weird

"dates and times" so this is where the temporal distortion comes in ig

yup

i'm sticking with the "rich-darrien is a copy trying to assimilate into og-darriens life" theory for now

yeah because thats not normal darrien, even if youre related no-one looks completely identical apart from glasses, teeth colour and a lack of a beer-gut

do they both think the other is the copy, or does sharron just not know?

oh god what is he hiding

does he beat up a real person every time hes upset

of course it was his father that makes sense

oh my god the sound design

oh my god he's the one who assimilated thats so cool

good for sharron i hope shes doing okay

off-topic but i love the way the voices get more real as the statement goes on then go back to their more robotic tone at the end

Post-Statement

as a celia fan i am eating well this week jeez

celia my dear what do you mean by that "not exactly the same though, it is?" girlie what have you done what are you hidinggg

alice!

who was playing the music in the background there?

as someones whos computing department in school consists of keyboard with never-before-discovered types of bacteria wedged between the keys thats valid

alice dyer i love you so much

ah the dyhard is dyharding

ah yes the mutual "i'm traumatised and i know you are too but i don't like you enough to give details on mine or ask about yours so we'll just sit and suffer in silence til the ice somehow breaks" dynamic

also colin mention woohoo i love the scottish man

the computer start up noise and power down noise at the beginning and end of every episode kind of makes me think that someone is watching all of this (maybe us, or more likely someone in-universe)

anyway that was fun, i'm doing this late but this was a nice way to spend my first proper off-day since finishing all my exams

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #tmagp reaction #celia ripley #samama khalid #alice dyer #gwendolyn bouchard #colin becher

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azumasoroshi · 2 years ago

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minidura chapter 4 react

simon i SWEAR ill get you out of there and that horrendous art style

also though. TEENAGE SHIZAYA CHAPTER LETS GO???? idk if narita made the minidura or if it's a separate illustrator but they are giving the FOOD rn

i was wondering where the official knowledge that simon forced izaya and shizuo to eat sushi together came from. i mean i guess this isnt official and it was probably stated in the anime somewhere but still, good to see it illustrated pff

AAAAAAAAA ive seen this image around tumblr but i didnt realize it was from minidura 😭 i thought it was fanart or smth (<-dumbass)

wait im actually going crazy over this akwjhkjdshs they're washing dishes together!!! now we just need them to do laundry and taxes and-

im going to go over the image limit this time on god

wow cant believe they're bathing each other too (<-delusional)

something about the first shizuo panel reminds me of aggretsuko. which is. actually. huh. arent they both like adults with anger issues. durarara aggretsuko au when

also deadass i forgot dennis existed until i read about him in a shizaya fanfiction and i was like "who's dennis" pfgfkhkd

so true though never throw kitchen knives kids

LMFAO HE JUST GAVE THEM MORE WORK INSTEAD OF RESPONDING

they're gonna be here all day at this rate. actually shizaya as fast food/restaurant staff au when because they'd have the stupidest rivalry known to man and i need it

fucking imagine shinra walks in and sees shizuo and izaya working by the counter

i hope izaya gets to eat fatty tuna by the end of this though. god knows he's gonna look cute as hell

made funnier by the fact that izaya at least definitely knows how to cook with how long he's been on his own and needed to feed his sisters

damn ive actually never seen someone's vein burst in a way where blood sprays out in anime akshGKJHJKSD thats impressive actually

dont look now but this may or may not inspire me to make a mermaid/pirate au (<-obsessed)

who needs kaiju battles when you can have blue fin tuna vs crab

they're literally never leaving this place bro they're gonna be stuck here for eternity. anyway here's a literary analysis of durarara pointing out why russia sushi is actually representative of dante's inferno /j

i want to read those blurbs so baddddd screams sobs bangs table

rip dennis dude he doesnt get paid enough to deal with shizaya

rippp time to listen to izaya pine hopelessly for the man he cant stop annoying for five seconds

simon had the right idea. too bad shizaya are shizaya

what is that face izaya. i cant tell if he's irritated that simon's right or irritated that simon cant understand how instinctual their hatred is or amused that simon thinks he and shizuo could be friends or amused because he thinks meaningless fighting is hilarious

oh......that kind of hurts actually

i can imagine izaya suggesting it as a joke and then lying in bed that night thinking about how it's never going to happen and it really sounds like a funny joke huh? (he is not crying)

i cant believe simon's been dealing with these bitches for like 7 years now like dude has the patience of a saint

😭give him his 50,000 yen simon

we can see that the crack in the sign is actually fixed now too ahhh time really flies when you're stuck in a relationship of mutual hatred

chibizaya is so cuteeeeeeeee

im sure he intended to paint himself that way in his recollection though pff

THATS RIGHT SHIZAYA BE THE PORCUPINES. SNUGGLE. DO IT

step aside erika, simon is the face of the shizaya nation now. especially with that "you just have a shizuo complex dont you" quote that i found the other day which i still havent recovered from

HAUDGHUSDH orihara izaya, pro unreliable narrator

hilarious how we never see tom's face. just his dreads lmfao

dennis and simon are so done with like izaya bro i think they can tell at this point that he's horrifically pining and has no healthy outlet for it. the bills go to him because they're bullying him

it'd be funny if they billed him 50,000 at the end actually pft

I KNEW WE'D GET THEM EATING TOGETHER!!! I HAD FAITH

they're so cute oh my god can i make that my header or something

10/10 chapter im going to punt izaya into a wall and get simon flowers

#shizaya #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #simon brezhnev #i dont think dennis has a tag pff #durarara #long post

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br1ghtestlight · 1 year ago

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getting war flashbacks to the bobs burgers fanfic where louise is doing math homework in the restaurant when nobody else is around and then bob has a heart attack </3 that shit was TRAUMATIZING

love linda shouting four whenever there's a math problem or anything related to numbers. best recurring joke. FOUR!!!!

you can do it gene :D also im so bad at math I 100% would not be able to help either. dumbass rep family

bob trying to help gene with his homework is cute. even if he is Not very good at it. he wants to be an involved dad :(

gene im not gonna lie that math question has gotta be fucking with you. rhat is not a real question. i could NEVER do that not if i was given 100 hours that shit is fake

see this is where when I was in math class i would just write a random number and move on bcuz im never gonna figure it out anyway im not gonna waste time. so that's my advice gene. just Give Up

he says "maybe your mom or tina could get you started" because they're older but I genuinely think louise has a better chance of helping bcuz she is so smart. if she'd WANT to help is another question entirely

because I'm stuck in a safe 😐

AND THEN HE BLINDFOLDED ME ON THE WAY HERE??? HE BLINDFOLDED YOU??????

teddy I think his guy is gonna murder you im gonna be so real right now

unfortunately im kinda following teddy's logic now like. it isnt like fischoeder isn't doing this type of shit everyday just for fun. rich guys are just like that BUT getting their money is nice

"gene was doing homework?? that's new"

WE'RE NOT ALL ECONOMICALLY COMFORTABLE LIKE YOU ARE

"Why did you tell me the whole long story about the sandwich in the drawer if you're running out of battery LOCKED IN A SAFE??" "Context!!!!"

also bob and teddy have such great comedic chemistry lmao they bounce off each other so naturally

louise isn't lying she Does have a certain set of skills 😭 if anyone could find him it WOULD be her the lockpicking genius nine year old supervillain

miss you. see you soon. gotta go!!

has he gotten a new cellphone since that MIDDLE OF THE DAY AND YOUR PHONE IS AT 23% argument or is it that same shitty 2008 blackberry phone that dies almost immediately lmfao

bob is a real one for doing this bullshit for teddy he did NOT have to. they're ride or die fr

I'm not entirely unconvinced that gerald isnt a serial killer but thats okay <3 men can have hobbies

also I'm choosing to believe this gerald is the same one from the taxes/weed cookie episode even though it ABSOLUTELY is not bcuz i think that would be funny. by day he's a regular tax agent by night he is a creepy rich kidnapper who pulls mind games on all his handymen

OH I FORGOT THE SUBPLOT FOR THIS EPISODE IS ABOUT SPORTS PEOPLE why did they do the whole thing with gene's homework then.... are they connected. what is the gameplan

WE PICK A NEW LOVER FOR MOM

i love how bob is apparently the only thing keeping his family from going completely off the fucking rails like. he's the only thing standing between his family and their restaurant burning down with everyone inside fr

your dad never loved that dream :/ because he's a hater :/ AND SO JEALOUS :/

you're not gonna break the world record. another hater. STOP THAT

I might be having a panic attack 💔 I CANT TELL BECAUSE IVE NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE OR IM ALWAYS HAVING ONE soo real teddy

WE LOST HIM 😭😭💔

aww I love them all wearing their lil aprons <3 (crappy photo of my tablet bcuz the app im using to watch this episode doesn't allow screenshots)

SAY SOMETHING SMART LIKE UHH HOW WOULD YOU FLIP A GIANT BURGER. OH GOD THEY DIDNT MAKE THE GIANT BURGER DID THEY. WHO WOULD EVEN AGREE TO EAT THAT. AN OVER FOURTY CO-ED BASKETBALL TEAM. REALLY 😯

sorry this episode has so many good ooc quotes FJDMDJSKSKKM

gene STOP calling him father

bob is being like a whole ass detective meanwhile linda and the kids are currently making The Worst Decisions Ever

h jon benjiman is doing such a good job voicing bob in this episode idk it has so much personality and sounds natural. or it's always like this and im just now appreciating it but either way A+ work

cute bob and teddy moment ❤️❤️

(ignore the awful camera quality. nothing I can do there) also love the fact that teddy can easily lift up and manhandle bob. Good to know

there's so much going on w/ this gerald guy I dont even know WHERE to begin. what a guy. wow

this is so cute and sweet im so happy!!! YOU DOUBLE FAKE WALLED HIM :D YOU SMART SMARTIE. YOURE A GENIUS BOB

"I knew I asked the right person to come help me. Yeah. Mort wouldn't answer."

"What? You called Mort first?"

"No..."

HE ASKED MORT???? LMFAO big win for tedmort shippers. I fucking guess

MORT NEVER DOUBLE FAKE WALLED ANYONE why is bob like genuinely jealous of mort and teddy right now 😭 chill out man you've got a wife at home

"let's just say it's twelve" FINALLY bob follows my very smart advice when it comes to math homework smh

ALSO THIS IS TECHNICALLY THE FIRST TIME WE'VE SEEN THEM EATING BOBS BURGERS FOR DINNER OR IN GENERAL!!! I mean it's a giant hamburger loaf but it technically was served at bob's burgers so it counts

GIANT FRENCH FRIES

aww this episode was so fun and cute!! I love the more adventure-y type episodes where they explore a new location so this episode was great and very stressful lmao. also very funny. I love bob and teddy's dynamic/back and forth throughout the episode and the weird mort mention at the end felt like they were soft launching his and teddy's relationship even though I KNOW they aren't actually. mort could replace kathleen if we believe. very solid 8/10 episode :)

#txt #bob's burgers #episode review #bb spoilers

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quodekash · 1 year ago

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this is my seventh post about two episodes. this is why it takes me so long to watch things.

anyway, continuing now

HIS LITTLE PONYTAIL SDHFSDHSH

wait omg

these are the clothes theyre wearing when they eat each others fingers in the trailer

theyre about to eat each others fingers

hell yes

please, please do

i will get down on hands and knees and beg if i have to

HSHDHSHSFDHS

OH HOW THE TURN TABLES, INNIT?

HELL TO THE FREAKING YES

AND THE SONG PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND???? BRO THE NOSTALGIA IM GETTING

im definitely rewatching bad buddy soon. ill bet that ill start rewatching it within the week

of course

you know, i think the one time they werent interrupted by pa (or korn, or some other person) was on the freaking rooftop

CHEEK KISS

THE PARALLELSSSSSSSS

i could talk all day about parallels

holy hell

we're finally here

the end of our skyy 2

i am not even slightly emotionally prepared for this

ITS 9PM AND THEYRE ONLY JUST HAVING DINNER???

well, he did say on call with his mum that the play only just ended

but jeez i was not expecting it to be that late

yes. yes. YES.

BIRTHDAY SURPRISE, LETS GOOOOO

oh. it's not phu?

but it was timed so well??

phu has to be there

i love him so much

i missed him a lot

my dear precious...

tUL TUL, I LOVE TUL AND I DEFINITELY DIDNT HAVE TO LOOK UP HIS NAME BECAUSE I FORGOT WHAT HIS NAME WAS

he wishes for his boyfriend to be there :(

and phu emerges from the cake

bro that one candle was having issues

it took four blows to get it out, and that fourth one was very extended

i think mix was trying really hard to not get spit all over the cake and to not ruin the shot, but internally he was like "F[beep] YOU, YOU STUPID F[beep]ING CANDLE, DIE, DIE, DIE, OH MY GOD JUST BLOW OUT ALREADY, HOLY SH[beep], I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU SO MUCH, OH MY GOD IM GOING TO K-"

that's how i think it would go if we could see into mix's mind when he was trying to blow out that fREAKING CANDLE

okay, so, is he hallucinating, or is phu actually there

maybe the candle was stalling for time cos tul and phu werent moving fast enough and they were like to the candles "QUICK, WE NEED A DISTRACTION SO THAT HE DOESNT NOTICE", and that one was like "i got this bro 🤝" and did the performance of its lifetime

oh wow im really freaking tired

i have fifteen minutes left. ill tackle them tomorrow.

its gonna take me three days to finish two episodes of a show, where each episode is only about an hour long, and if thats not the most in-character thing for me, idk what is

anyway, see you tomorrow for the end of the years, many many tears, goodbyes, and hopefully no flies (idk what that last bit was, i just wanted to make it rhyme)

#quodekash watches our skyy 2 despite desperately needing to sleep #our skyy 2 #our skyy 2 x 1000 stars #our skyy 2 x bad buddy #bad buddy the series #bad buddy series #a tale of thousand stars #atots #patpran #phutian #phuphatian #ohmnanon #earthmix #ohm pawat #nanon korapat #earth pirapat #mix sahaphap

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argumentl · 1 year ago

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The Freedom of Expression: Vol.23 - Watching Hanshin vs. Orix in the Japan series.

·Kaoru explaining Hanshin's progress so far, imagining himself doing the ceremonial first pitch, and learning English through the window of the Hanshin Tigers.

J: Ah this is an important moment...whats his name? Dongu?

T: Not Dongu, TONGU.

J: Oh, Tongu! This must be the most important moment of the game so far.

T: Ah, it's exciting!

J: This must be the most important moment so far....go on, go on!

K, J, T: Aghhhh!

J: Eh?! Was that a walk?

K: No, no.

J: Its three balls, one strike??

K: Yes

J: The batter chose not to swing there, right?

K: Yeah

J: Or he just couldn't manage it?

K: Well, it could be either.

J: Come on, come on, come on!

T: Oh, a strike!

J: A strike?! Ohh, interesting from Tongu.

K: Haha, you just wanna say that!

T: Hang on, hang on! The broadcast started!

J: No way! We are on air already?? Leader, do the greeting!

K: Im Tongu.

J: Tongu! And im Hikomaro!

K: No, not Hikomaro, he isn't even there!

J: No, but there is that one who looks like him though, right?

K: Ah, Mune! Are you trying to mock him??

J: No no, the Orix players are...

J, K, T: Ahhhhhhh!

J: Yeahhh, lets go!!

K: This is what I like.

J: Crisis averted, right?

K: Yeah.

J: Easy going from now.

K: Ahh, we're off! At last.

T: Yeah, haha, at last.

J: Yep, and we can finally get started with Niconama too.

T: Oh, we're on niconama today?

J: Yes, we are! Look at all the comments!

T: Thanks for all the comments!

K: But we are also on Youtube too.

J: Yep, so today we are watching the 4th game of the Nihon series on the channel...what is it? Hulu?

K: Yes, Hulu.

J: Yes, so we are watching it on Hulu. We can't show you our screen, so if you have a spare screen, get it on at home too.

*Kaoru reaches behind to update the score on the white board, and writes a big 0 for Orix*

T: Ah, yes. This is Kaoru's job today.

J: What a big zero!

K: Yeah, I wanna fill all the rest like this too! haha

J: Haha, yeah. By the way, today's broadcast is titled 'Go go Tigers! Aiming for Japan no.1 special!!'

*applause*

J: So we are gonna have a drink while watching the game! We will do a toast soon, so everyone at home please have a drink ready too. Ok, Leader, its the 4th game, right? So, could you please explain what that means for people who know nothing about it (myself included), and tell us what has happened in the Nihon series so far.

K: Well, for the Nihon series, the first team to get 4 wins is Japan champion. Today is the 4th game, Hanshin won the first game, Orix won the 2nd game, and Orix won the 3rd game. We'll have to see what happens in the 4th game today.

J: So at this point, Hanshin have won 1 and lost 2?

K: Yeah

J: How did they score in that first game?

K: 8 - 0

J: Yeahhhh!

T: And Kaoru, did you say you were there for that game??

K: Yes, I went to Kyocera Dome to watch it.

J: Ohhhh! Where are our souvenirs??

K: I forgot, haha

J: You forgot to bring us souvenirs??! Thats the most important thing!

K: I left them at the studio, we've just been rehearsing for the tour. I did buy some Hanshin manju type things, but I left them all in the studio for everyone. I didn't bring any here.

J: Ahh, it would have been great to eat those now while supporting the team! Anyway, how was it at the game??

K: It was good, it was my first time to watch baseball at Kyocera dome, so it was quite refreshing.

J: Ahh, were there fewer Hanshin fans there?

K: Hmm, no, about half and half.

J: And it was a thrashing victory with 8-0.

K: Hm, is thrashing the right word? haha

J: Yes, of course it is! I bet you enjoyed it..How did you feel?

K: Oh, I felt great.

T: Haha, I've never seen Kaoru this happy.

J: You can see how happy he is with the way he just leaned back slightly then! haha. We don't see this very often. Look, that comment says 'I'm gad they won when you went'.

K: Yeah, absolutely. Because the next day, the score totally flipped, we lost 8-0.

J: Ahh, that badly? Leader, your presence is good luck for the team.

K: Yeah right?? I need to go to all the games.

J: Thats right! So what happened in the 3rd game?

K: That was yesterday at Koshien. We lost 5-4. We started to catch up towards the end, but couldn't make it in the end. Hanshin have a bit of a self destructive image when they lose. They tend to make a lot of errors and stuff. But they are not like that today...Anyway, in the 2nd and 3rd games, Orix gained the upper hand.

J: Hm, yeah. Hanshin couldn't take it back. And today is the 4th game...what innings are they in now?

K: The third innings.

J: And Hanshin are in attack.

K: Yes...Oyama, he just hasn't got the hang of it yet today.

J: Who is Oyama, what does he do?

K: He is a baseball player.

J: Yes, but what number/position etc?

K: He is number 3, and in first.

J: And despite this, he isn't hitting??

K: I'm not sure whether 'despite this' applies here, haha.

T: He just isn't hitting today.

J: Ah, he is not in good form today?

T: Yeah

J: But Hanshin are in the lead, right? How did they manage that?

T: Oh look, its Neuse!!

K: Ah, yes, good good.

J: Who was that?

K: Neuse.

T: Neuse is in good form.

K: Yeah, he is.

J: So now...

T: What?

J: Hm? Hang on?...Neuse leaves base, bottom of the third innings, Hanshin in attack, 2 out, Neuse hits, passes first base. Won't they score points from here on?

K: Yeah, I think so.

J: Ah, so its still ok.

K: Can't we have a drink yet?

J: Oh, ok.

K: Haha

J: Let me just explain the show quickly! Even if you don't like baseball, you can still enjoy this show. And we are always taking your messages, you all know this, right? Any, thoughts, comments, questions, please send them in. X (formerly Twitter) users can use the tag TFOE. The first part of the show is free for anyone to watch, but the second part is for channel members only, so you need to be a member if you want to watch to the end. If you join, you can watch this broadcast in the archives for 1 year, and there are also members only videos too, so please join using the link at the top of the screen. Also, in the second part of the show today we will be asking Kaoru all about the European tour scheduled for next year.

T: Loads of variety!

J: Thats right. You can't miss it!! Ok, Leader, its time for a toast! Everyone at home, join us too. Just a sec, Leader...ok ready now.

K: Joe, you can do it.

J: No no, you have to.

T: *raises hand* Ok, I'll do it.

K: *raises hand* No, I'll do it. (※This is a reference to a tv comedy skit by ダチョウ倶楽部/Ostrich Club, where the third guy is tricked into raising his hand to volunteer for something after seeing the other two raise theirs first)

J: Eh?! Who? Ok, Leader, you do it.

T: Agghh, haha

K: Agghh, of course, he doesn't watch tv so he doesn't get it!

J: Eh?! What?!

K: Nothing, nothing.

J: Ahh, Im sorry I ruined the joke!...Oh, it was that Ostrich method??

K: Of course, it was.

J: I just saw someone write it in the comments, haha.

K: Anyway, lets have a drink and enjoy watching the Nihon Series...Kanpai!

J, T: Kanpai!

J: So, Leader, they won when you went to the stadium, so we should support them as if we were there in the stadium today.

K: Of course!

J: That way it will help. If we half-heartedly support them, our support won't reach them.

K: Ahh, yes, thats right.

J: We've really got to be out of the ordinary.

K: Haha, you are so excited.

T: Joe, you know the least about baseball of all of us, yet you are the most excited.

J: No, but we've really got to imagine ourselves at Koshien! Is that where this is?

K: Yes...We have to?

J: Absolutely.

T: There is a comment saying Kaoru's hat is cute! Its unusual, right?

J: Was this a specially made item?

K: No, these are regular merch. It comes in different colours, even blue etc. You wouldn't be able to tell it was Hanshin merch just at a glance.

J: No, you wouldn't.

T: Isn't this one an unusual colour though?

K: I bought this years ago.

J, T: Ehh?

J: Ahh, yes, there is all sorts of Hanshin merch. You know, I wanted to wear that Hanshin happi to support the team today, but the staff forgot to bring it.

T: Haha, you should prepare that yourself.

J: I was thinking about wearing that pink happi, so I wore like totally room wear to go under it.

K: Haha, room wear? That doesn't matter.

J: Haha, well, whatever I'm wearing I'm at Koshien in spirit.

K: Yeah. Ah, I'll just update the scoreboard.

J: Oh, yeah. So, last time we had Morikawa Toshiyuki on the show, right? That was fun. What did you think, Leader?

K: Oh, I'm so grateful to him...Coming on a show like this.

J: Yeah, and he supports the Baystars.

K: Yeah, I felt sorry.

J: Yeah, cause they didn't do well, right?

T: Haha, he even came in here singing Rokkou Oroshi.

K: I'm really grateful to him.

T: There are not many people who know as much about professional baseball as he does.

J: He is such a great guy, we had a lot of fun. Yeah, we laughed a lot. If you are a channel member you can rewatch it in the archives. There are comments coming in saying it was incredible, and that Morikawa san was perfect at singing Rokkou Oroshi!

T: It would be good if we could do that kind of thing again sometime.

J: Yeah, last time was perfect though, with those talk topics and Morikawa san's personality. Anyway, today we are watching the Hanshin vs. Orix game, and I'm sure things will get exciting whenever the game heats up, but in the meantime the staff have prepared various fun things for us to talk about. So lets sandwich some of these in while we watch the game. The first topic is 'Dream ceremonial pitch'!

*applause*

J: Don't hold back, everyone! We gotta show our support! Ok, loads of different people have done the ceremonial pitch before, right? So I'm gonna ask both Kaoru and Tasai, if you were to do the ceremonial pitch, how would you do it? What music would you enter to, what would you wear, how would you throw etc, etc. Its a brilliant topic to talk about!

K: Who did the ceremonial pitch today? That rugby guy? The one who never smiles.

T: Was it Inagaki....?

J: Inagaki Goro? (*member of SMAP.....Kaoru is actually referring to rugby player Inagaki Keita*)

K: Not Inagaki Goro! haha

J: Haha, I don't know. Ah! Is it that half Japanese guy who looks like Inagaki Goro??

T: Haha, no no. Ah, *reading comments* it seems like his name is Inagaki though.

J: We just can't remember his given name.

K: Well, anyway, he did the ceremonial pitch today.

J: How do they actually choose who does it?

K: We should have asked Morikawa san this last time!

J: Right! He has done it before, hasn't he?!

T: I guess the team just choose someone.

J: Kaoru, have you ever been asked to do it?

K: Haha, no.

J: Oh, but to have a world famous musician like you sypporting them so much...!

K: No no.

T: What are they thinking by not asking you?!

J: Right?!

K: Guys, stop talking like this! They'll never ask me now, hahaha.

T: Hanshin players, please consider it!!

J: Look, there are comments saying they want you to do the ceremonial pitch! Anyway, Leader, if you did do it, how would you like it to be?

K: Hmm, well, I don't really like it when people try to make it all about them...

J: Ahh, some people are like that when they do this, right? I mean, I havnt really seen many people doing it though.

T: Yeah, it is often like that.

K: So, I would probably just go out, greet the crowd, and simply throw the ball.

T: Yeah, Joe, did you know, celebrities and such who do the ceremonial pitch often get booed if they try to appeal to the crowd to much. Its like, "Just get on with it!"

K: Yeah, cause no-one is there to see that.

J: Its unnecessary, right?

T: Yeah, sometimes that happens. But when Yanagisawa Shingo did it, they crowd was pretty happy....You know who that is, right?

J: Ah, yes, that comedian right?

T: Yeah

K: Well, if its someone very famous who everyone knows, it works.

J: Ah, its tough, it only works with big names. What does that comment say?

T: 'Degawa(Testurō) took his trousers off'...

K: Ah, someone like Degawa san is fun, you'd wanna see that, right?

J: Yeah! But Kaoru, you would just keep it very simple?

K: Yeah.

J: What about you, Tasai? How would you do it? Gyōza themed?

T: Im not all about gyōza, you know!

J: A gyōza shaped glove or something? Oh, what just happened in the game? He is out?

K: Yeh, at second base.

T: I mean, I'd probably want to do something UFO or kappa related. I'd do it with determination.

J: Well, Tokyo Sports are big enough misfits for that to work.

T: Haha, someone wrote 'throw a gyōza'

K: Throw a gyōza??

J: They wouldn't expect that!

T: They'd be asking me to leave! haha

J: Leader, someone just asked in the comments 'Would you do it if you were asked?'

K: Well, yeah, I wanna do it.

T: Hanshin, please consider it!

J: Ahh, so you wouldn't hesitate if you were asked. But, hey, its quite a long throw, right?

K: Yeah, I don't know if my throw would reach far enough. But remember, Morikawa san warned against practicing too much, or you'll be unable to throw on the day.

J: Yeah, but its a bit embarrassing if your throw doesn't reach.

K: Yeah, it might not.

J: What would you do then?

K: Well, yeah, cause most people have never thrown a ball from that kinda raised mound before, right? You have to throw it from above.

J: How high is that mound?

T: Quite high, but it depends on the stadium.

J: Really? So the pitchers have to maintain their accuracy even at different heights in each stadium?

T: Well, pitchers do have preferences about which mounds are easier or harder for them. And teams will even alter the mounds in their stadium to try to put the opposition to a disadvantage.

J: Ahh, to make it harder for them? This is such a grown ups' game!

T: Haha.

J: It all depends on so many factors, even with the top players.

K: Well, I guess because they are only active for a short time.

T: Kaoru, if you did the ceremonial first pitch, would you walk out to a DIR song? Like in that movie 'Major Leage'?

K: No no no, whatever the team preapres in advance is fine with me.

J: No, but I think the team would ask you about the music, since you are a musician.

K: No, I'd be fine with just a normal introduction, then just getting on with it. Playing a song of ours deliberatly, then walking in is really cringe!

J: Haha

K: I'd feel like apologizing!

T: Haha, I see.

J: Ah, whats going on with the game?? Do we need to check it?

T: *reading comments* 'Kaoru can throw towels to the 2nd floor'. Have you done that before??

K: Yeah, I think so.

T: Ehhh?! Do they reach that far?

K: If you drench them in water they do. And you have to throw underarm. Throwing overarm wouldn't work.

T: You are really good at underarm throwing. You throw all those picks too, right?

J: Yeah, and you squirt water out from your water bottle. I like that, its kinda kinky.

T: Haha, really??

K: Yeah, cause thats the only way Joe sees the world.

J: Its true!

K: Haha

J: I'm embarrassingly pervy about everything. Do you have a problem wth that? haha. Anyway, I'm going all out today, remember.

T: Ah yes, right. 'Joe always brings up dirty topics'.

J: Anyway, lets just check on the game.

T: Hirooka is doing well.

J: What doea Hirooka do?

T: He is a baseball player.

J: No, I mean his order and position etc.

T: He is number 8, but...hm, Im not sure.

*K eats cheese and ham snack*

J: This is no time to be eating ham.

K: But I'm hungry.

*J and T discuss the game for a few secs while K concentrates on eating snacks*

K: Mm, this tastes good.

J: Yeah, ham and cheese. I complained that the snacks were too cheap looking before, so now they are a bit more luxurious.

K: Ahh, ham, cheese, and crackers gives off more of a distinguished air, right?

J: Yeah. If people donate to us, we might get even better snacks.

K: Nah, I dont mind..You're the one who makes the most noise about this. Its you who got our bentos changed to curry.

J: Ah, yes! I really love that curry, but there is a yakiniku restaurant on the first floor of this building, right? And before now we've had yakiniku bentos, so today I avoided meat all day in anticipation, I was kinda disappointed we got curry again.

K: You're the one who made them give us curry!!

J: No, but this is the time and place for yakiniku! When are we gonna get yakiniku bentos again??

K: Haha

T: Joe, you are so noisy about food! You were eating more curry than us today!

J: Because I'd been saving myself all day! I was so hungry! You know that nice cafe nearby here? Its closed on wednesdays, so I couldn't go there. But I figured it would be ok if I was having yakiniku later. And then I almost got myself a steamed bun from the convenience store, but I decided not to in the end. And then I got here, and it was curry!! But actually, curry is more like Hanshin colours, so its for the best!

K: Hahaha, what a fuss.

T: You know, that curry comes with potatoes too? He was like, 'Ahh, maybe I shouldn't eat the potatoes..' But then he covered them in butter and ate them anyway.

J: Yes! And that led onto an interesting debate about whether this curry was made in Europe, remember?! Or was it a European style curry made in Japan??

K: Where are you going with this?? haha

T: Deflection, deflection.

J: If Hanshin win today, Kaoru, you should buy us yakiniku.

K: Oh, okay. Who knows what will happen, but thats ok with me.

J: Good, I can't stop thinking about yakiniku today.

T: You never shut up about food, haha.

J: I'm going all out today, remember?

T: Joe, the staff are trying to tell you something.

J: Huh? Ah, ok. Move onto the next topic about the Hanshin dictionary....thats enough about curry, haha.

K: We'll be getting complaints.

J: *reading comments* 'If Hanshin win, please sing Rokkou Oroshi'. Ah, yeah. Ok, so the next topic is about the 'Genius Japanese-English Hanshin dictionary' where many of the example sentences are Hanshin themed. I didn't realise something like this existed!

K: Yeah, I was surprised.

J: There are over 60 Hanshin related sentences. I think a lot of the editors are from Kansai, so thats why they made this version.

K: Oh, I see.

J: Yeah, so lets have a look at some of the examples. Are we gonna show them? No? I just read them out? Ok. For example the word 'atsui'. In English you'd say 'excited' - to be excited about something', right? So, the example is 'kare ha Tigers no koto to naru to, sugu atsukunaru'. Tasai, could you read that out in English?

K: Haha

T: 'He gets excited at any mention of the Tigers'.

J: Thats it! 'Tigers' at the end there, its great! The next one is 'uchimakuru' (hit a volley). I feel like thats not the type of word you'd usually need to look up though.

K: Right.

J: The example is 'Sakuya Tigers ha Giants aite ni hitto wo uchimakutta'

K: You never need to say that though.

T: In English, 'The Tigers got a lot of hits against the Giants last night'

J: Yeah, but with 'uchimakuru' the potential is there to use it. And you can use 'atsui' for people like me getting excited about sports. But the problem comes next, with 'oeru'...'to end something'. There is no reason to use this word about Hanshin, right?

K: Yeah

T: Haha

K: Yeah, its not a good meaning.

J: Yeah, because with hits and things, they still have that potential.

K: 'to end' is difficult to use.

J: The editors have thought hard about this one! The example sentence is, 'Kare ha Hanshin Tigers no guraundo seibiin toshite sono shōgai wo oeta.

K: It can be done! hahaha. But this sentence would probably never be used outside Hanshin fans.

J: No

T: Everyone, please check out this dictionary.

J: Yeah. Tasai could you read out the translation of that last one?

T: 'He ended his days as a groundskeeper for the Hanshin Tigers.'

J: Isn't this show great?! You can study English while you watch!

K: This one is good too.

J: Which one? Leader, which one do you like??

K: 'Tigers no roku senshu ga ponpon to home run'

J: haha

T: 'Six different players cracked....' haha

K: What does that even mean? Do we ever say 'ponpon to home run'??

J: You wouldn't have much need to say that to a foreigner.

K: But!! Today we will need to use it! Hahaha

J: Yehhhy, hahaha. And when that happens, you can say it in English, Leader!!

K: This one too, 'machigainai' (no doubt)

J: What does it say?

K: 'Tigers ga shiai ni katsu koto ha machigainai' (There is no doubt that the Tigers will win the game)

J: Ohhh, yeah. That, and ponpon are good. Leader, you will have to shout 'Ponpon!!' in English later.

T: How do you say it in English?.....'cracked'. It says 'machigainai' is 'on ice'....'The Tigers have the game on ice'

K: Shouldn't it be 'nice'? Or is it supposed to be 'ice'?

J: It might be an English idiom. They use idioms, like for heavy rain, there is an idiom about 'cats and something'

T: Oh, really?

J: Yeh, there is. How about this one.... 'ryūnin'. 'Fan no ōku ga Okada kantoku no ryūnin wo nozondeiru' (Many fans want Manager Okada to stay in office)

K: Well, there's no reason to make him quit.

J: Yeah. Ah, someone commented, 'Kaoru, make an example sentence'.... in Japanese.

K: A Tigers sentence?

J: Yes, and then the staff will use Chat GP and put it into English.

T: Thats a good idea.

K: Hmm..

J: Something that you wouldn't usually expect to see in a JP-EN dictionary. Anything is ok.

K: Hmmm.....uhhhh......'Jama'! (obstruction)

J: Jama?? Hanshin related?　Uhhh...ok.....jama.....uhh, ok.... go ahead...

T:...Uh..

J: Ah, ok, Leader then...

K: .Hm?...What are you asking for?

T: Right? haha

J: I've been talking too much, I'm too tired now, haha.

K: You want me to say the sentence, right?

J: Haha, yeh, I'm exhausted now, I'm just zoning out.

K: He's tired himself out after all that.

J: Haha, I'm 55, leave me alone! Haha, someone wrote 'Its mystery hour'. I don't know what I'm doing any more, haha.

T: Haha, you were so energetic at the start, and now you are totally burned out!

J: Yeah, ahhh, I'm tired. Ok, Leader, say your sentence.

K: Ok, so at their stadium, Koshien stadium....'kousokudōro ga jama de mienai'. (The highway obstructs the view of the stadium)

J, T: Ahhh

J: Really?

K: Yeah, its really close. From here to that wall is the same distance between the wall of the stadium and the highway.

T: Yeah

K: So you can't see the big 'Koshien Stadium' written on the stadium wall. (※TN: But you can if you drive on the highway past the stadium! 😁)

J: Ahhh, ok, well the staff will translate that for us. I think we should send this to the editors at Genius.

T: Someone wrote, 'Joe Yokomizo is the 'jama' haha.....ok, the English is 'Koshien stadium cannot be seen because the highway is in the way'. *laughs/snorts*

J: Ah, 'in the way'... you just snorted.

T: Haha, sorry. Put, 'Joe Yokomizo is noisy' into the translator!

J: Haha, the staff will put Kaoru's sentence and translation in the comments later. So thats how you can support Hanshin and study English.

T: Ah, Kaoru, you forgot to write the score. More 0s.

J: Oh, thats good.

K: Is it the 5th innings already?

J: Is the game running at a fast pace?

T: It is, yeah. Its still the first half of the game, right?

K: Yeah.

J: Mm, this ham is really good.

K: Haha, you've eaten loads.

J: Yeah, it tastes really good. So, for now they haven't changed the pitcher...

K: No, but we are in the lead.

J: There is a one point lead at the moment, but another two or three points wouldn't be bad.

K: Yeah yeah

J: Yeah, another point would be good. Which innings do you think they will really start moving in?

K: Oh, any time now. They are hitting a lot.

J: 86 throws so far, is that a lot for the 5th innings?

K: Hm, yeah well, the fifth innings might decide the game.

T: Just as long as they win.

J: Ah, yeah. Those Orix players are all really good-looking though, right? Like that Hikomaro guy before...

K: Remember who we talked about before though....Chikamoto.

J: Ah, Chikamoto, yes!

T: Hey, but its about time for the first part of the show to end, isn't it?

J: *talking with mouth ful of food' Yeah, so in the second part, we will go all out supporting, and we'll be talking about Dir en grey's...

K: He has no enthusiasm left!

J: *empties mouth* ...and be talking about Dir en grey's upcoming European tour, so please make sure you are a channel member. If you become a member, you can watch this broadcast in the archives for a year, and there will also be members only videos, where we try out lots of different things, so please check those out. Ok, here's how to join. There should be a blue link at the top of your screens now. Leader, please point to it. Please click this link to become a member. After you click it, you wil get a page asking you to choose your preferred payment type. Choose your method, click proceed, then enter your details. If you haven't joined yet, please do so to continue supporting Hanshin with us, and to hear Kaoru talking about the European tour. Ok, Leader, do you have any announcements?

K: The tour starts next week. I was just rehearsing today. It'll be fun!

T: I'm looking forward to it.

J: Kaoru, you said that with confidence.

K: Did I? Well, it will be. haha. Kawasaki is first, with the fanclub lives, I think Nagoya is after that.

T: Someone wrote they are going to Kawasaki, Haneda, Yokohama, and Omiya. Wow, thanks!

J: The merch info is out now too, yeah. Someone says they are going to all the dates!

K: Wow. You know, this really is the end of Phalaris. So please enjoy it.

J: People saying they are going to Wakayama, Niigata, some are joining in December. A question asks who designed the merch?

K: We all did.

J: They are looking forward to Wakayama.

T: Is it your first time playing in Wakayama?

K: Yeah.

J: Someone said its their birthday at Nagoya....Vol.3?

K: Yeah, Vol.3 is the final.

J: What merch do you recommend?

K: Recommend? Hm, the limited tshirt.

J: Is it limited to sale at the venues?

K: Yeah, but saying limited tshirt sounds a bit negative, so just look forward to it anyway.

J: Yeah, please look forward to the merch.

T:*looking at game* Oh no, Tongu.

J: Tongu...like thong sandals?

K: No, its 鈍宮, the kanji for don(鈍) and miya (宮).

J: It sounds like a summery name..

T: Anyway, should we finish here?

J: Yes, lets have a quick break here. The screen will change for a moment, but we will be back shortly with the second part, so please wait there.

T: People watching on youtube, please register on niconama too.

J: We'll be talking about the European tour too, it'll be fun! Ok, bye bye for now.

K: Yep, see you soon!

#dir en grey #薫 #the freedom of expression #translation #kaoru

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