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spaceorphan18 · 3 years ago

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In The City That We Love 1/25

Summary: Set in year leading up to the time jump in Dreams Come True. Kurt and Blaine have been married for five years, still living in New York City, still trying to navigate life. As their friends become settled around them, Kurt and Blaine figure out who they are, and who they are as a couple, as they settle into being a full adult. A story of marriage as it grows up and settles down for good.

A/N: Hey guys - this was started back in 2019, and based on the Final Season sketch I wrote detailing what the "final season" of Glee would be like - taking the characters up to the points we see them at the end of Dreams Come True. Each chapter is meant to be stand alone/episodic - like an episode of a tv season - but there is an overarching story to the narrative as a whole.

Thanks @snarkyhag for beta'ing - though I'm sure it's been so long she doesn't even remember, lol <3

No - I did not forget about my other WIPs, but since I wrote nothing over my vacation, I thought I'd send this finally out into the world - the last of my big WIP ideas.

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Episode 1: The Camping Trip

It’s Thursday night and they’re making out on the couch. Kurt’s on his back, head propped on a pillow. Blaine hovers slightly over him as they trade slow and deep kisses. There’s no rush, no frantic rubbing of bodies, no hustle to shimmy clothes off. In fact, they’re barely touching except where their mouths are connected. They have the time, finally, to enjoy each other. To really let it play out.

He thinks he remembers the last time they had sex - probably a few weeks ago? Maybe a month? When they started their run on Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf Kurt made it a point to schedule in time for a quickie or two during the week. Their work schedule didn’t really allow for anything more. Besides, fast and efficient fucking is the best stress relief. By the end of the run, however, they had been both so exhausted that neither really wanted to have sex. They barely had the energy to have a full conversation, let alone do anything that required more than falling into their bed every night.

But even so, sex had maintained a staple of their marriage. Making out, however? Kurt can’t remember the last time he and Blaine just made out.

It’s funny, their friend circle would claim the making out is a common occurrence; everyone always bringing up the one time they were too busy making out in a car to attend a wedding. Well, that had been a good five, no six, years ago now -- way past the days when stealing kisses had been the most thrilling thing they could do. Still, their unhurried make out reminds Kurt of being back in high school when it had been more about the journey and less about the destination. He wants to just sink into the couch and enjoy Blaine, enjoy all of the Blaine. Dammit, it’s been long enough. He's going to.

He can tell Blaine’s getting a little tired of holding himself up. They break for a moment, Kurt spreading his legs so Blaine can settle between them, gently putting his weight on top of Kurt. The lazy kisses resume, now with a slow rocking of the hips. He can feel Blaine growing hard in his jeans, Kurt’s own arousal slowly building. He’s not chasing it, however. He lets it linger, enjoys the warmth and familiarity of Blaine on top of him.

Kurt is intent on enjoying himself tonight because, god knows, they’re going to have to start job hunting tomorrow. Usually they’re better than this, having another job lined up when a run ends. But the play had taken everything out of them, even testing their marriage. And now they have to face the reality of unemployment. Kurt should really check his email before they actually get to bed to see if…

As if sensing his mind wandering, Blaine begins sucking kisses along his jaw and neck, pulling Kurt back into the present. Kurt lets out a little groan and rolls his head back giving Blaine better access. And yes, yes… he really needs to concentrate more on his Blaine, his love, his husband, who knows all the places that make him melt. Kurt takes a moment and breathes him in.

Blaine smells differently, and Kurt can’t figure out why... Did he get a new body wash? Pick up a different scented laundry detergent? Have they really been so out of sync lately that maybe he can’t remember what Blaine smells like? Blaine starts kissing back up to Kurt’s lips. The kisses are more heated now as Blaine dips his tongue into Kurt’s mouth. The sense of smell is no longer on Kurt’s mind.

“What do you want tonight?” Blaine asks. One of Blaine’s hands travels between them, finds Kurt’s aching dick, and cups it. A grin slides along Blaine’s face as he begins to stroke through the denim.

Kurt’s eyes flutter shut, barely able to reply. It feels so good. “Fuck me.”

“Maybe,” Blaine starts, as he goes to unzip Kurt’s pants. “You should fuck my mouth first.”

Yes, that. Let’s do that. But Kurt’s reply comes out an ungraceful squeak.

Blaine’s hand is around him, steady and slow, teasingly slow. Kurt’s brain short circuits just a little, and maybe tonight will be a little bit like high school - where he comes in his pants before they ever really get started.

Doesn’t matter. Kurt feels horny enough now that he probably has a few rounds in him. He pulls Blaine in for a searing kiss as he rocks his hips in time with Blaine’s hand and then…

There is a sudden and obtrusive knock at the door. They both freeze, as a burst of anger tears through Kurt.

“Maybe it’s a solicitor,” Blaine offers weakly as he sits up.

“At ten at night? Doubtful,” Kurt’s eyebrow is raised. The rapping on the door continues. He knows that knock. He resents that knock and stares at the door, hard, hoping that the person on the other side can receive his telegraphic message to leave. Now.

Of course, Kurt knows better.

“Kurt! Blaine! I know you’re in there,” the shrill voice comes through the door. Blaine starts to speak, but then Kurt pushes into his hand, grabbing his attention back. His night will not be ruined. “I saw the light on when I came in. Let me in!”

“Rachel, my dick is out, go away,” Kurt snaps. He doesn’t care that the apartment walls are thin and his neighbors can hear the argument. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Don’t act like I’ve never seen that before,” she cries back. “This is an emergency. I’ll use my key if I have to.”

Blaine shifts to move off the couch. Kurt shoots him a glare - if they let her in, the night is over. Blaine looks helplessly at him as the knocking intensifies. Fine. Fine, fine, fine. He begrudgingly puts himself back in his pants as Blaine goes for the door. Fine.

Rachel pounds again, as Blaine opens the door, cutting her off mid-knock. She nearly tumbles through the doorway, almost surprised that they actually let her in.

“Did someone die?” Kurt asks, a bit of acid on his tongue. Blaine shoots him a look, asking to at least try to be more sympathetic. Rachel is, after all, distraught as she flounces into the recliner next to the couch.

“No,” she bites back. “Just my career. My career is dead.”

Kurt lets out an audible groan. Of all the things to be upset about…

Blaine sits on the arm of the chair, rubbing her shoulders sympathetically. “I’m sure it’s not actually dead…”

“I haven’t heard back from this audition,” she cries. “Which is, you know, fine. It’s not like anyone else is calling me back either. I acted my heart out for this one, I researched everything on Jane Austen, and I know her as if I was her. I felt her with every fiber of my being.”

Kurt puts his head on his hand and glances over at the clock, then back to Blaine as if to silently say - she’s going to do this all night, you know.

Blaine shrugs helplessly. “It’s one audition,” he says, stroking her hair. “There will be others.”

��Oh yes, there are hundreds of auditions out there,” Rachel jumps to her feet and begins to pace the room. “I have been to all of them. Literally, I have been to one-hundred and twelve auditions in the past six months and none of them - NONE of them have cast me. I am unhirable. My career is over. It’s dead. And now I’ll just become a housewife - wasting away as my husband takes all the glory. And that statue, that mistress of his that just stares at me from the mantle. It knows what a failure I am. It knows…”

“Okay, Rachel,” Blaine says, even he can admit when Rachel’s being too much. “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.”

Kurt wants to throw her out. His night had been going splendidly until it had a head-on collision with Rachel Berry’s emotions. He could. Easily. Just send her home, back to her nice, little brownstone in Manhattan, with her cushy back-up plan of her husband and her dads, and her off-Broadway potential, and let her wallow in her own self-pity. She’ll call Mercedes, and can be Mercedes’s problem for a while.

But he doesn’t.

Because he, of all people, knows that rejection isn’t easy. Especially for someone like Rachel who feels the world owes her something. It’s not like he has people lining up at the door, waiting to sign him for a role. It’s not like he’d have had that role in Virginia Woolf if they hadn’t wanted Blaine to do it in the first place. It’s not like being cast in a show has ever been easy for him.

God dammit, why does a Rachel Berry pity party have to spread so easily?

Rachel falls back into Blaine’s arms. He holds her tightly and rubs her back.

“You need to relax,” Blaine says. “If they haven’t called you back, then they haven’t made a decision. You just… need a distraction, something to make you not think about it for a while.”

Rachel’s eyes bulge a little. “Yes! I need a relaxing distraction.” She grabs onto Blaine’s arms suddenly. “Camping. We should go camping.”

Blaine throws Kurt a look over Rachel’s shoulder. Kurt only rolls his eyes. “Have you ever even been camping, Rach?”

“My dads took me camping when I was twelve,” she says. “Besides, Jesse has this cute little cabin upstate that we’ve never used. His mom gave it to him a few years ago because she got it in the divorce, and she doesn’t really use it - but his dad would go up there and drink all day and this one time he nearly started a fire and..”

“Anyway…” Kurt cuts her off.

“But just think of it,” she continues. “This weekend, all of us - the whole gang. This past year has been so crazy, and the summer’s almost over, and think of us all sitting around the campfire out on the lake, cuddling with each other, eating those marshmallow cracker things. You know with the chocolate.”

“S’mores,” Kurt and Blaine say in unison. Only Rachel Berry wouldn’t know what s’mores are called.

She claps her hands together. “Yes, this is great - this is going to be great. I should call everyone!”

“Um, Rach…” Kurt slides off the couch, hoping maybe he can throw her out the door. “Maybe we can figure out this for another time? Blaine and I were hoping to use this weekend to, you know, reconnect.” Blaine nods his head frantically in agreement.

“What, no,” Rachel pouts. “I don’t have time - I have so many auditions to go to, and I know they’ll call me Monday morning - I need a distraction. Besides you guys can reconnect upstate in nature. Oh! We can all reconnect with nature!”

“No.”

“Please?” She bats her eyes at him. It’s not like it usually works, but she tries anyway. “C’mon, please! It’ll be fun. When’s the last time we did anything fun. Please, please, please!”

“Rachel…” Kurt shoots a look over to Blaine, hoping he’ll help him out.

Blaine, however, is super fascinated with a string on the couch. “Um, I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

Rachel squeals with delight.

Kurt throws Blaine a sharp look. Traitor.

“This is wonderful, I’m going to call Mercedes right now,” Rachel fishes her phone out of her pocket. “Oh, do you guys mind if I stay here tonight? Jesse’s at a cast party, and probably won’t be back until tomorrow morning, and you know I think that place is haunted.”

“For the last time, Jesse’s Tony is not alive!” Kurt snaps, throwing his hands in the air.

Rachel points her phone at him intently. “You don’t know that - it doesn’t watch you.”

Kurt rolls his eyes at her.

“So, I’ll just use your bed, and you guys can continue to use the couch however you were using it. That’s fine.” Rachel says, scrolling through her phone as she heads to the bedroom. “If you guys want to make me some tea in the morning that’d be great,” she adds as she slams the door behind her.

Kurt clenches his jaw, wondering why he ever let that woman into his life.

Blaine’s still playing with the string. “So, uh, do you still wanna…”

“No.”

“Okay.”

***

Apparently, everyone in their friend group thought camping would be a great idea. Everyone except Kurt, because god knows he’d rather be back in his comfortable apartment, sleeping in an actual bed, and not on the ground, actually trying to do something about the fact that his life currently doesn’t have a direction, but no - they have to follow Rachel’s whim instead.

They’ve been stuck in the car for about five hours now. Jesse is driving with Rachel on the passenger side. They’re going over some vocal techniques, and the past twenty minutes have been Rachel doing strange squawking sounds. Kurt is sitting on the left side of the backseat, Tina next to him, and Mercedes on the other end. They’re chatting a little bit, but he can’t hear them very well over Rachel’s noises and the incredibly loud Best of Barbra Streisand playing through the speakers. He wouldn’t mind the CD so much if they hadn’t played it on a loop a half dozen times already.

He is squished, and uncomfortable, and the small pillow he brought to lean against made his head too warm. He tries shifting around, but Jesse’s seat is nearly pushed all the way back, and there is just no way he’s going to get in a good position. There hadn’t been enough room in the car to bring any kind of bags, so he’s stuck with only his phone to keep him company. He tries to check his email again, but they’re steadily going farther out of range from any place with decent wifi. He contemplates trying another game of solitaire when a text bubble pops up.

Blaine: Artie’s writing a screenplay!!!

Blaine, thank god. It makes Kurt smile. He and Blaine, by default, ended up separated. Since Jesse rented the cars, he and Rachel had first choice. And of course, Santana claimed driving the second car or she wasn’t going. Artie and Sam insisted they ride together to play some kind of video game, while Tina begged Mercedes to ride with her so they could gossip, leaving him and Blaine to settle for being apart.

Kurt: When isn’t he?

Blaine: This one’s hilarious - it’s greek myth.

Blaine: he’s basically writing greek myth fanfic

Blaine: Artie says he’s going to use this weekend to write. Sam thinks he’s going to end up like jack nicholson in the shining.

Kurt: Should we be concerned? Artie would do that.

Blaine: here’s artie ::knife:: ::knife:: ::knife::

Kurt lets out a little laugh.

“Oh my god, are you sexting with Blaine?” Tina whips her head around to notice him.

His mood immediately sours. “Yes, Tina - I’m sexting Blaine. I’m bored enough that I thought I’d just jerk off and see if anyone would notice.”

“Oh, don’t give me that attitude, Kurt Hummel,” she snaps. “I was in the backseat next to you on the way to Mr. Schue’s wedding and you and Blaine made out the whole time and it was super gross.”

She makes a grab for his phone, but he swings it away from her.

“Tina, we were in college, god,” he says. “No, I’m not sexting Blaine.”

“Ug, gross, you totally are,” she rolls her eyes at him, then turns so that her back is to him and begins to whisper over to Mercedes.

He’d really like to bite at her that maybe she should worry less about his sex life and more about her lack of one, but decides not to. Can they just get to the campsite already?

Kurt: Tina thinks we’re sexting.

Blaine: yeah she wishes

Blaine: ::devil:: ::eggplant:: ::eggplant:: ::eggplant:: ::donut:: ::wink:: ::wink::

Kurt: omg, I love you

The three little gray bubbles dance on Kurt’s screen for a few moments… Hey, maybe they are going to do this, but Kurt can’t help but have a twinge of disappointment when he sees Blaine’s reply.

Blaine: Sam wants to take me on in Smash. We’ll talk in a few hours. Tell Tina to get her nose out of our sex life.

Blaine: ::eggplant:: ::heart:: ::kissyface::

And then Blaine is gone. Is it weird to miss your husband? Your husband whom you do see extensively every day. It’s not like he’s not there. Kurt starts to scroll up through their previous conversations - which is a collection of short inquiries and yes or no replies, the daily upkeep of ‘can you pick up milk?’ and ‘remember to call the dentist to set up an appointment.’ When did they get so boring?

Kurt pushes his pillow up against the window and rests his head on it, closing his eyes. He ignores the crick in his back, and thinks of Blaine, and if Blaine were beside him. They could cuddle up, and Kurt could get snug in his arms and fall asleep easily. He concentrates hard on that thought as the car rumbles on down the endless highway.

***

It’s late when they arrive, and though the sun is still up, everyone is too exhausted to do much. The cabin is much tinier than expected, set up like a studio; only one queen-sized bed, a sofa, and a hard wooden floor for possible sleeping places. Sam and Jesse both brought tents, but only Sam sets his up, and only Mercedes can fit in there with him.

The ground is still damp from a morning rain, so the campfire is out of the question. A few of them travel into town to bring back pizza for dinner, which ends up being the highlight of the evening. Afterward, Santana takes a phone call and spends half the evening yelling at her client. Sam and Jesse attempt to set up the second tent, but it proves to be too difficult, and they decide to try again tomorrow. And Artie settles into a corner to write his script. The girls, at least, are having fun playing video games with Blaine while Brittany recounts every ghost story she’s ever heard. Kurt finds himself in a moldy, stiff recliner and tries to read, finding it hard to concentrate with all the commotion going on.

Eventually, Sam and Mercedes head out to their tent, everyone having piqued interest as they flirt with each other on their way out. Are they even back together? Kurt has no idea, but the gossip is curbed as they all get ready for bed.

Rachel and Jesse have claimed the bed, since it is Jesse’s cabin, while Brittany and Santana claimed the rug by the fireplace. Artie lets Tina have the sofa while he sleeps on the floor next to her. Leaving the small space near the bathroom for Kurt and Blaine.

“The internet sucks here,” Kurt says, scrolling through his phone, as he tries to find a comfortable position in his sleeping bag.. The floor is hard and unforgiving, and somewhere someone is already snoring. He can already tell it’s going to be a long night.

“The point is not to have internet here,” Blaine says, just having gotten back from the bathroom. He settles in and rolls on his side to face Kurt, plucking the phone away, and tossing it gently on their bags. Blaine’s sleepy, but cuddles up to Kurt, even with the lining of the sleeping bags between them. “Relax, Kurt, we’re taking a vacation.”

“Unemployment isn’t a vacation,” Kurt says. If he stretches, he could get his phone back, but the effort doesn’t seem worth it.

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that,” Blaine says into his shoulder.

“You said that.”

“Kurt…” Blaine’s tone is playful, and he gives a few gentle kisses to the back of Kurt’s neck. “Tomorrow, let’s not think of the future, just enjoy our time together. Maybe we can stay back and get that other tent up, then we can cozy up, enjoy the stars…”

Kurt cranes his neck back so he can give Blaine a kiss. Blaine immediately deepens it, sliding his tongue against Kurt’s.

“You’re really good at that,” Kurt says breathlessly.

“I try.”

Kurt goes to kiss Blaine again when someone clears their throat. It’s Artie on the way to the bathroom. “You guys keep it up, I’ll film you and sell it as porn,” he says waving his phone in the air. He lets out a laugh as he rolls into the bathroom.

Kurt lets out an annoyed grunt as he turns in Blaine’s arms to face him. “This place is too cramped.”

“This place reminds me of the loft,” Blaine says, looking around.

Kurt scrunches his nose. “The loft was far cleaner.”

Blaine gives a shrug. “It’s kind of nice,” he gives Kurt a quick peck. “And romantic.” Another peck. “And has some charm.” And another long kiss, engaging enough that Kurt seriously contemplates just doing it right there with all their friends watching. Let Artie film it for porn - it’d be worth something. Blaine is right there with him. “Remember that time we did it when Rachel’s dads visited?” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“What, gross!” Rachel says from the bed. She’s only a foot away, but apparently can hear everything they're saying, and throws her hair tie at them. “I can’t believe you did it in front of my dads.”

“Wanky!” Santana calls out from the other side of the cabin.

“No, no, no, no,” Tina calls out. “No one is having sex tonight. Because ew. Go to bed, all of you, I need my sleep.”

“See -- just like the loft,” Blaine says with a laugh.

“And may I remind you, we also broke up in that loft,” Kurt says. “Remember that?”

“Fine.”

He doesn’t mean for the memory to be a mood killer, he’s not even sure what had prompted him to bring it up, but Blaine just sighs heavily and rolls over to face the wall instead of Kurt. He should say he’s sorry, but he doesn’t, and instead just wraps an arm around Blaine, cuddles close, and after a lot of time thinking about how far away Blaine still feels, long after Blaine’s breathing slows, Kurt manages to fall asleep.

***

Kurt is having a nice dream - something calm and bright and possibly related to an exciting new trend in men’s fashion but there are noises around him, pulling him away from dreamland. Reality seems to crash fast, and suddenly he’s aware that every part of his body aches. The wooden floor hadn’t been kind during the night, and now just rolling from his side to his back makes everything cramp up. God, he’s not even thirty yet. The floor creaks beside him, so he opens one eye to find Blaine, fully dressed, leaning over him with a grin.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Blaine gently kisses his temple.

Kurt groans, half-heartedly swatting him away. Unlike yesterday, the sun is bright and blinding through the window, causing Kurt to cover his eyes with his arm. “I don’t know how you can get up so early and be chipper all the time.”

“Kurt, it's a quarter to twelve.”

“What?” Kurt bolts upright. “And you didn’t wake me?”

Blaine shrugs. “You seemed like you needed the sleep. But - I did make you lunch. And I used the morning to pitch the second tent. Well, Sam helped me after I got myself thoroughly tangled in it. I thought maybe we could use that tent tonight.” Blaine gives him a wink.

Kurt grimaces. Like sleeping on the ground will be any better than the wooden floor. Still, Kurt rises with the help of Blaine.

By the time Kurt gets around and has lunch, the rest of the group is in an argument about the activity for the day. Canoeing? Rafting? Staying in-doors and playing board games? Blaine is enthusiastic about all of the ideas. Kurt doesn’t care - he’d rather not be there at all. Eventually, as some sort of compromise, they settle on hiking the nearby trail. Kurt grumbles at the decision, but it’s either go with them, or stay back and do nothing while Artie works on his screenplay. At least he’ll have Blaine around.

The trail ends up not being so bad. It’s an easy path, relatively flat for beginners. The air is warm, but not overly stifling. Everyone is mostly paired up, except for Tina, who complains that she’s the only one there without a partner, so Sam and Mercedes keep her in between them. Rachel and Santana set a fast pace, each of them leading the pack, as if they were all in some sort of strange race. Meanwhile Brittany zig zags around, talking to the trees and leaves and birds as if she were a Disney Princess and they were her friends.

Kurt drags behind, hands digging into the pockets of his jeans as they walk. He mildly listens to Jesse and Blaine, who are a step ahead of him, having a conversation about some reality TV show hiring drag queens for an episode. Blaine is animated as he talks, bouncing around the trail, as he does impersonations. Jesse howls with laughter, and it's endearing enough that even Kurt can’t help but smile.

They make it a mile down the trail, enough so that Kurt’s hardened edge from the previous day has worn down a little, when the sky begins to cloud over. Rachel insists that rain is afoot, and promptly turns them around to head back. Kurt doesn’t think it’s all that threatening out, but Rachel can’t go a couple of hours without checking her phone, which she left at the cabin, so of course time outside will be cut short.

As they start their return, Blaine falls back, silently going for Kurt’s hand to clasp. Kurt smiles, feeling lighter at his husband’s touch. He squeezes Blaine’s hand, bringing him a little closer as they walk.

Everyone has shuffled around, though Kurt and Blaine remain bringing up the rear. Sam and Mercedes are ahead of them, heads close. Sam whispers something into her ear, which causes Mercedes to full on stop and throw her head back with a bark.

“I’m pretty sure they’re dating again,” Blaine says quietly.

It’s unmistakable really, the way they’re flirting, and gazing into each other’s eyes. “She and Tina, I think, were talking about it in the car on the way over. I couldn’t tell.”

They walk another beat in silence, Sam has Mercedes now crying in a fit of hysterics.

“Do you ever miss that stage?” Kurt asks. “That I’m-crazy-about-you stage?”

“Are you saying you’re no longer crazy about me?”

It’s clearly a joke but Kurt frowns. “You know what I mean.”

Blaine gives an easy shrug. “Not really. I mean, are we settled? Sure. But I like the security in that. Do you miss it?”

There is a tiny bit of concern in Blaine’s eyes, but he really has nothing to worry about. The short answer is no, Kurt Hummel has made his final decision and that’s all there is to that. The long answer is that with all the passion that came from their early time together came the rocky uncertainty as to whether or not they’d actually make it. There were times when Kurt thought that first loves were hard and fast and that’s it. And for most people they are he supposes. But not for he and Blaine.

“I like what we have now,” Kurt says, looking down at their linked hands. “I guess I… just miss it.”

“Mmmm, yeah,” Blaine licks his lips, then suddenly sweeps Kurt into his arms, giving him a passionate kiss.

Kurt’s startled for only a moment before he begins to kiss back. “Blaine!” he gasps. “What are we doing?”

“I think we should take full advantage of the situation,” Blaine replies, as he kisses down to suck on Kurt’s neck. “Why not take advantage of the situation and be a little spontaneous.”

“We’re outside, Blaine,” Kurt argues, though not very strongly.. “You can’t possibly suggest that…”

Blaine pulls away, staring at him with wide, dark eyes. No one else is there - the rest of the group is nearly out of earshot. And Blaine’s grip tightens on him, pulling their bodies together. Kurt wants this so badly, he doesn’t even care anymore. He surges into a kiss with Blaine, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck. Blaine pushes Kurt backwards, off the trail and against a tree. There’s a tiny stub digging into Kurt’s back, but he doesn’t care. Blaine’s tongue is in his mouth, doing wonderous things, and Kurt just melts into him.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this here,” Kurt says, with a little giggle. He’s more turned on than he cares to admit, and rocks his hips against Blaine as they kiss, generating heat with a growing need.

“You’re not the only one who’s missed this, you know,” Blaine utters between kisses. He wraps one arm around Kurt to steady them, while his free hand dips to squeeze Kurt’s ass, causing Kurt to let out a tiny moan. “Remember when we tried to do this at that club?”

Kurt lets out a little laugh as he grinds into Blaine. “I’m pretty sure it’s cleaner here than that club.”

Blaine’s fully encouraged now, peppering kisses along Kurt’s jaw, taking a moment to give a little bit at Kurt’s ear. “There’s something I didn’t get to do at that club.”

“What’s that?”

“Suck you off,” he says in a growly whisper.

“Oh god.”

That does it. Just the mere thought of Blaine’s mouth on him has him fully hard now. Any misgivings about being outside, being caught by anyone walking by, are completely gone. It’s just he and Blaine - the world is nothing but them, and the promise of an orgasm he desperately needs.

Blaine drops to his knees with a thud and an unexpected crack. Before Blaine can get his hands (or mouth) anywhere near Kurt’s dick, he’s crying out in pain.

It takes a moment for Kurt to register what happened. He’s still in a slight daze, his dick’s still throbbing, but Blaine’s on the ground, rolling around holding his knee. “Honey, are you okay?”

“I hit a rock,” Blaine grunts out. He goes to stand, but his leg gives out. Kurt hurries to him to help him up, but Blaine pushes at him. “I’m fine, really, we can still do this. I can.”

Their spontaneous moment, however, had been fleeting. There’s a large centipede crawling near Blaine’s leg, and a fly lands on his shoulder. A squirrel watches them from across the trail. And Kurt begins to notice the leaves on the vine near them might be poison ivy. This is not a good idea, his rational mind catching up to him, now that his dick has calmed down. This is so not a good idea.

“I don’t think we should,” Kurt says, managing to help Blaine to his feet.

A second later, Sam finds them, a branch in hand as if to attack. “Oh god, are you guys okay? We heard a scream -- and I thought maybe it was that serial killer from Brittany’s story last night.” The rest of the crew is close on Sam’s heels.

Kurt rolls his eyes as they approach. “We’re okay, Sam.”

“I just… tripped,” Blaine says, walking onto the trail with a slight limp.

“Tripped my ass,” Santana cackles, looking them over. “They were trying to get in a quick fuck while we weren’t looking.”

“Crude!” Tina shouts in disgust.

Santana howls in laughter. “Judging by the dour look on Queen Hummel’s face, the only thing that got shoved up his ass was probably a stick.”

“Hey,” Blaine scolds.

But it’s too late. Kurt breaks. All of the anger that had been pent up for the past few days spews forward, Kurt hardly able to contain his shout. “Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Santana.”

“Fine, can I borrow your stick?” Santana bites back.

Brittany lets out a gasp. Rachel squeals excitedly.

“Hey, stop,” Mercedes cuts in before it can escalate further. “Blaine, are you okay?”

Blaine nods. “I’ll be fine, just maybe need a little ice on my knee.” He shoots a look at Kurt then to the ground.

“Sam, make sure he gets back alright,” Kurt mutters as he pushes past them. He starts the walk back home by himself. He doesn’t wait for anyone. And no one catches up to him.

***

Hours later, Kurt lay in the second tent that Blaine and Sam had erected that morning, looking up at the sky through the clear, plastic roof of the tent. Evening had melted away into night, the quarter-moon shining, with the stars sparkling around it. Living in the city for so long now, he doesn’t get to see the stars anymore, and as he lay there, one arm tucked behind his head, he wondered why he never paid them much attention when he lived in Ohio.

It’s quiet outside, peaceful almost with the calm sounds of nature surrounding him. The temperature is nice. He’s rather comfortable, really. Everything is perfect. This trip should have been, if nothing else, a perfect escape. Then why doesn’t anything feel right?

He had kept his distance when everyone came back to the cabin - not wanting to disrupt their seemingly good time. The afternoon had brought a light rain, which meant board games and hot cocoa, and a lot of laughter that Kurt should have partook in. Even Artie had paused his writing to join in. Kurt watched from a distance, sometimes attempting to read a magazine, other times just watching as his friends enjoyed themselves, frustrated that he didn’t feel like coming to the table. Mostly, everyone ignored him, except Santana who would throw an occasional eye-roll his way, or Blaine who would check in on him with his standard look of concern.

After dinner, Kurt had gone for a walk around the area on his own. His mind had wandered, from planning out possible job ideas, to going over the events of the past few months again, to replaying the embarrassing moments from earlier in the day. The walking had been a nice attempt to clear his head but he had remained unsettled, and even frustrated. Couldn’t the tension in his chest just relax? Couldn’t he just enjoy himself for once?

“I’m going to sleep out in the tent,” he had told Blaine before he turned in for the night. No one else had seemed like arguing over it, so Kurt had figured he should grab it while it was still open. Would the ground be more comfortable than a wooden floor? He had no idea but at least he’d have his own space to fall asleep in. Blaine had given him an off center kiss, and had watched him carefully as he changed and headed outside.

And here he’s been, for a few hours he’s suspected, looking up at the sky, watching the sun set and the stars come out, feeling the contradictoriness of being glad he’s alone while feeling the heaviness of loneliness. He’s in a mood - he knows himself well enough, but the root of what’s bothering him still feels far away, like a thought he can’t quite grasp.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when the tent’s entryway is unzipped, and Blaine climbs in. He doesn’t watch Blaine on arrival, but he knows Blaine’s movements well enough, to know that it’s him.

He feels reassured almost immediately. Blaine always comes back - a true constant in his unpredictable life.

“Everyone’s getting a bit punchy in there,” Blaine says as a loose excuse. “And I thought it’d be a good time to duck out.”

“How’s your knee?” Kurt asks, not taking his eyes off the sky.

“Fine,” Blaine says quietly, coming down to lay next to Kurt. He snuggles close, as he usually does at the beginning of the night, wrapping an arm around Kurt and shimming in. “I don’t always like it when you’re like this,” he says carefully, not quite a frown on his face. “And I know you need your space sometimes. But that doesn’t mean you have to be alone.”

The tension seems to break, and Kurt lets out a heavy sigh as he turns towards Blaine. He isn’t sure what to say - not sure he has an explanation. “I don’t know why…”

“You don’t have to figure everything out tonight, Kurt,” Blaine assures him. “We can just sleep and figure it out tomorrow.”

Kurt gives a half-smile, and kisses Blaine’s forehead. Thank you, he thinks. And Blaine knows. Blaine knows him well now, better than most anyone. Kurt is grateful for that.

They stare at each other quietly for a little while, until sleep creeps up on Blaine, and his eyes begin to droop. Blaine always did have an easier time falling asleep.

Kurt’s gaze remains fixated on Blaine for a while longer. There’s enough light coming from above that Kurt can still make out Blaine’s features - his gorgeous, long eyelashes, his adorable nose, the ridiculous eyebrows. Blaine’s lips part slightly, a sign that he’s actually fallen asleep, and Kurt smiles to himself. He takes a moment to trace a light finger over Blaine’s cheekbones, chin, and brow, and marvels at how beautiful his husband is.

It’s not like he’s forgotten that fact. But maybe sometimes he takes it for granted. Doesn’t appreciate it enough.

Sometimes Kurt wonders if he appreciates life enough.

Still, for the first time that evening, he’s regained some of that inner peace he’d been missing earlier. Blaine is right - he won’t figure it all out overnight. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, he finally feels tired. Incredibly tired. He snuggles into Blaine and falls asleep thinking about how he doesn’t mind so much sleeping on the ground when Blaine is beside him.

***

The next morning he wakes up alone. Blaine’s sleeping bag has been rolled up nicely, and placed in the corner of the tent, his pillows resting on top, as if he had never used them. Blaine’s always been an early riser, but with the gray clouds looming overhead, it’s difficult to determine what time it is. Kurt leaves the tent, still groggy but it’s better than sleeping the entire day away. Besides, he has to use the bathroom.

The cabin’s empty - and after the bathroom, he realizes that not even Artie’s there. For a moment, Kurt wonders if they’ve left him there and peeks out the window. Two cars are still there, so they couldn’t have gone very far. Instead of investigating more, he decides to enjoy the quietness, inspecting the cupboards for something to make breakfast with. There’s nothing there, except for stale Oat Bran, probably left over by Jesse’s mother. He settles on making coffee, then into the couch with one of his magazines.

For some people the quietness is probably unsettling but for the first time all weekend, Kurt almost feels relaxed by it. The cabin and the outdoors may not have been so bad if he hadn’t been surrounded by nine other people.

The cabin door slams shut and in comes Rachel, startled that he’s there. She’s holding her phone, looking almost bewildered. She didn’t get it. Kurt’s stomach turns as he knows he’s in for whatever emotion is going to be hurled at him. He closes the magazine with a heavy sigh sips his coffee, waiting for her to speak.

She stumbles a few steps in and flops down on the couch beside him.

“Look, there will be other plays,” he starts, knowing this particular monologue by heart. “It’s not the end of your career.”

“I got it,” she says, unexpectedly. “I’m going to be Jane Austen.”

“What?”

“They want me to start tomorrow - oh my god, we probably have to get back tonight! Do you know how much research I have to cram in the next twelve hours?”

He stares at her in awe as she begins rambling on about how Jane Austen is her favorite author (as if she’s ever picked up a novel not written in the last ten years, and didn’t belong on a paperback rack in an airport). His heart sinks. He’s been prepared to lift Rachel up - it’s been his second job since sixteen. How does he somehow feel worse?

“Why are you not happy for me?” she scolds. “You are my first line of adoration, after Jesse of course.”

“Because it was inevitable, Rachel,” he snaps, startling her. “You’re a talented person, and don’t pretend you don’t know that. Someone was bound to hire you for something.”

Her face sours. “You know, you have been in a very bad mood this entire trip. I have noticed, and other people have, too. I don’t understand what your problem is.”

“My problem is that you getting a part was always going to happen. Always,” he doesn’t care that he’s nearly shouting at her. He’s been holding back for days now, and it feels good to let it out. “I, however, am not sure. And instead of thinking about that, I really wanted to have a nice weekend having hot sex with my hot husband, which I now do not get to do.”

Rachel gives an odd look. “What are you talking about - you and Blaine are always doing it. Santana says it’s a sex addiction, but I think it’s healthy in a relationship. Jesse and I make sure once a week to--”

“Maybe we aren’t!” The loudness of his voice echoes on the otherwise empty cabin. “Despite what the rest of you feel, I barely get to touch my husband. And instead of spending a weekend rediscovering that, and ignoring the impending reality that I have no idea what my next job is going to be, you dragged us up here for your pity party. Yes, my attitude has been horrible. I know that. But maybe, sometimes Rachel, not all of us rejuvenate in a crowd of admirers.”

She stares at him blankly for a moment. “Is that true?”

“That you love crowds? Do you not know yourself?”

“No, about you and Blaine.”

He takes a deeper breath, calming down. “Yes, Rachel.” His mind slips, unintentionally, to Blaine’s hands - Blaine’s hands on him, and he feels a deep ache. “I don’t remember the last time we were together.”

“Oh,” she’s much quieter than usual. “You guys have given up a lot for me over the years.”

“Rachel…”

“No, it’s true,” she says, standing - deep in thought. “And I’ve barely paid you back. I mean, I recognize that you’re an integral part of my emotional well being, and if you’re not getting what you need, then the whole system begins to fall apart.”

He almost feels like laughing. Rachel’s emotions always change on an unexpected dime. “Rachel, it’s fine…”

“It’s not,” she says. “I’ve got this part because you didn’t give up on me, even though you clearly have some issues to work out. So, I think it’s time I start giving back. And I have an idea, which may not be much right now, but let’s say it’s a start.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “What?”

She grins.

***

Rachel’s brilliant idea happens to be a hotel, well a smaller hotel which might be properly called a bed & breakfast with its rustic charm. They’re still in the woods, but at least they have a warm roof over their head and a wide window in their room that looks out on a peaceful lake - the picturesque view of nature without having to be entrenched in it. While the rest of their friends shuffled off back to Manhattan, Kurt and Blaine had a two night stay. There’s a hot tub in the bathroom, an all-you-can-eat buffet in the dining room, and a king-sized bed that he didn’t plan to sleep much on. No interruptions, no phone calls, and no impromptu adventures -- Rachel had promised when she had dropped them off. Just a little bit of time for the two of them to relax. This is what Kurt had needed. His hectic life in the city being put on hold for just a little while.

Kurt is in a fluffy, white bathrobe, curled up on the lounge chair with some tea from room service and a few magazines from the gift shop, waiting for Blaine to be done in the bathroom. He reads another article in the magazine, loosely paying attention to the sounds coming from the shower. He can hear Blaine singing, humming from a pop song that melts into an old Broadway standard, probably unaware that Kurt’s in the other room imagining the water trickling down his naked body. Kurt’s tempted to join him, despite having a lengthy shower earlier to get all the grime from the weekend off his skin. Fortunately, he hears the faucet turn off, and another moment later, Blaine’s out of the bathroom, a towel barely clinging to his hips.

Blaine stops at the full length mirror next to the dresser, then unwraps the towel from around his waist and uses it in an attempt to dry his hair. Kurt can’t help but stare at Blaine’s bare ass, grinning as he sips his tea. He resists the urge to pounce, as Blaine combs his fingers through his hair, trying to control the curls which have started to spring.

“So…” Blaine, grumbling defeat with his hair, comes to the edge of the bed and sits, the towel now half in his lap.

“So?” Kurt raises an eyebrow.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Blaine’s face is serious.

Kurt sighs.. “Is talking what you really want to be doing?”

“Kurt,” Blaine elongates his name, endearingly, and tilts his head. “I’m not going to let you bottle things up. This weekend was--”

“Why don’t we move on from this weekend?” Kurt sets the tea and the magazine on the nightstand, and moves out of the chair. He undoes the robe, letting it fall open, revealing that he’s wearing nothing underneath. He then begins to touch himself, leisurely stroking his dick as he comes towards the bed, showing Blaine there’s really only one thing on his mind.

Blaine smirks, but is, unfortunately, not easily persuaded. “What’s going on? You haven’t talked to me all weekend, c’mon...”

“Well…” Kurt comes to the bed, pulls Blaine’s towel off and to the ground, then straddles Blaine’s lap, curling his arms around Blaine’s shoulders. “We just finished an emotionally and mentally draining show. I spent the last two days sleeping on the ground. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to find a moment of peace so that I can have mind-blowing sex with my really hot husband.” Kurt reaches between them, and begins to slowly stroke Blaine.

“Ku-urt…” It’s a half-hearted protest as Blaine becomes quickly interested in Kurt’s hand.

Kurt draws in close to Blaine’s ear and whispers, “let’s fuck now, talk after.”

Blaine’s resolve breaks. Their mouths crash together in a heated kiss, Blaine’s mouth remaining hot on Kurt’s skin as Kurt shifts. Blaine manages to get his lips around one of Kurt’s nipples and sucks. Kurt lets out a groan as Blaine swirls his tongue around it. Kurt arches as Blaine begins to suck and god-fucking-finally they’re going to do this.

Blaine breaks away from his nipple, allowing Kurt to bend down and kiss Blaine hard. He isn’t in the mood he was in on Thursday night, where he had wanted to be casual and slow and enjoy Blaine as much as possible. No time to be delicate - his entire body is aching for it. He needs it now, and he heats up the kiss, sliding his tongue into Blaine’s mouth. Blaine groans, and despite the earlier reservations, Blaine’s now as hungry as Kurt, wrapping his arms around him so they can be closer together.

Kurt reaches between them, taking both of them in his hand this time, and unevenly jerks their erections as they kiss. There’s not as much friction as Kurt would like, but Blaine’s dick is throbbing next to his, and that’s fine for now. It’s not like this is going to end with a simple hand job.

They kiss a little longer, until Blaine breaks it off, steadying himself with one hand on the bed as he pumps his hips in time with Kurt’s hand. They’re both hard and more than ready to step it up.

“What do you want?” Blaine pants.

I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it for the next week , Kurt thinks, desparate at the thought of Blaine inside him, pounding him the way he needs it. But coherent words aren’t coming and all that stumbles out is a grunt of ‘fuck me’.

It’s a hurried mess of hands and limbs as they shuffle around again. Kurt manages to get off the bed entirely, discarding the robe without a thought, pulling Blaine’s towel to the floor as well. Blaine’s off the bed in another second, taking no time to wrap himself up in Kurt. They turn mid-kiss, Blaine pushing Kurt back to the bed. Blaine manages to give Kurt’s ass a pert squeeze before Kurt settles on the edge of the bed.

Blaine goes to his knees.

“Are you sure this is okay - your knee,” Kurt manages to remember as he spreads his legs for Blaine.

Blaine looks up at him, eyes dark and ready. “Could be completely shattered and it wouldn’t stop me from doing this right now.”

Kurt melts just a little more. “Blaine…”

“Too much talking, Kurt,” he says, before sinking his mouth over Kurt’s dick.

Kurt falls back on the bed, letting out a long groan as Blaine completely takes over. He had almost forgotten how good Blaine is with his mouth, knowing exactly how Kurt likes to be sucked off. Kurt just relaxes into Blaine’s touch - the tension, the anxiousness from the weekend, from the past few months, melting away with every bob of Blaine’s head. Kurt rocks his hips gently, but mostly lets Blaine take control. He sucks deeply a few times before pulling back, and swirling his tongue around the head of Kurt’s dick. Blaine then pulls off entirely, and shifts so that he could begin pulling at himself while he mouths Kurt’s balls, taking time to suck at one, then the other. Kurt’s on edge, nerves on fire as Blaine then devours Kurt’s dick once again.

Kurt reaches out a hand to Blaine’s shoulder. “Blaine, wait,” he says, a bit hazy. He’s close, but not ready to be done yet.

Blaine gets it, and stands to retrieve some lube from the suitcase, while Kurt turns to be on all fours, allowing Blaine as much access as he needs to his ass. Blaine’s back on his knees in a moment, guiding Kurt’s hips closer to his mouth. Blaine’s hot mouth is on him once again, kissing him, snaking his tongue inside his hole to open him up. Kurt closes his eyes, giving into the pleasure of it, as Blaine eventually replaces his tongue with a lubed finger, and then two. Blaine speeds his fingers, pumping in and out as he leans forward to suck kisses on Kurt’s balls. Kurt rocks with the pace of Blaine’s fingers, the heat building quickly. Blaine knows his body well, and pulls away before Kurt’s pushed over the edge.

As Blaine goes to stand, Kurt turns around, managing to sit up so he can grab onto Blaine. He pulls on Blaine’s dick a few times before sinking his mouth on it. Blaine’s hardly had any attention shown to him yet, and Kurt needs to rectify that before he gives completely over to Blaine. God, he loves Blaine’s dick. He loves the way it feels in his mouth, the heaviness on his tongue, the way it’s so male - so Blaine. Really, it’s Blaine that he loves so much - even if he isn’t the best at articulating it. The least he could do is show proper appreciation.

“Kuuurt,” Blaine grunts, his knees nearly buckling. “I thought you want to…”

“Fuck…” Kurt pulls off and licks along Blaine’s length. “Yeah.”

Kurt lies back on the bed, elbows supporting him, and spreads his legs wide.

Blaine’s going to fuck him now. He’s open and ready and his body is aching now with want and need. And thank god, Blaine is finally going to be fucking him.

Blaine climbs on the bed, stroking himself as he hovers over Kurt. Kurt draws him in for a hungry kiss, tasting himself on Blaine’s lips. They make out for another moment or two, Kurt drawing his legs up, and wrapping them around Blaine. Blaine’s dick rests eagerly between Kurt’s cheeks, and Kurt begins to frantically rub against it.

Blaine breaks the kiss so as to reposition himself, putting the head of his dick at Kurt’s hole, and gently pushes in. Kurt moans Blaine’s name as he begins to slowly rock his hips, shallowly pumping a few times before completely bottoming out. They begin to kiss again, deeply, as Blaine begins to give a slow, deep thrust, grinding their hips together with their kiss.

Everything is electric now, and Kurt can’t remember the last time he felt this connected with his husband. He feels Blaine everywhere and, fuck yes, this is what he had been missing. Here is his husband. Here is his Blaine. Why, why, why had then gone so long without this?

The kiss grows sloppier as Kurt, desperate for more movement, begins to pick up the pace. Blaine steadies himself, allowing Kurt a moment to fuck himself on Blaine’s dick. The angle isn’t the best, but he needs it so badly he doesn’t care. He claws at Blaine’s back as he rocks faster and faster.

“Let me,” Blaine whispers. Kurt slows, looks into Blaine’s eyes, and sees all the love they share between them. Blaine gently cups Kurt’s face, gives him a sweet kiss on the lips and whispers again, “let me…”

Understanding, Kurt pauses and holds on to Blaine tightly. “I love you,” he says - barely a whisper.

“Love you, too.”

Blaine pulls out, almost entirely, then slams back into Kurt. Kurt lets out a scream as he feels Blaine deep inside him. Blaine quickens the pace, slamming into him again and again. His hips driving with an unstoppable purpose now. Kurt goes limp on the bed, giving over Blaine complete control, letting him fuck and fuck and fuck and god… Kurt wishes they could just stay in this endless ecstacy of fucking and connection and love and pleasure.

He’s so close now, so close… Blaine knows that, too, and sneaks a hand between them, giving Kurt a few strokes, which finally, finally pushes him over. The orgasm tears through him, causing him to scream out Blaine’s name as he feels it all the way to his toes. Blaine is not far behind him, a few more pumps and he’s shuttering his orgasm into Kurt.

Kurt’s pliant and blissed out as Blaine comes down, giving a few final pumps before pulling out completely. Kurt pulls at him and kisses him, loving and tender. God, he’s going to sleep so well tonight.

“Feel better now?” Blaine says, almost with a giggle.

“Yeah,” Kurt says, breathlessly.

Blaine gives him a kiss on the forehead. “Good.”

***

Later, after they’ve cleaned up and taken another shower, they’re both sitting on the chair; Kurt on Blaine’s lap, both in the complementary white robes. Kurt is snuggled in Blaine’s arms - the most content he’s been in, well, he isn’t sure how long. They’re conversation isn’t much beyond casual -- the old lady who had checked them in who had been unexpectedly delighted to know that they were married, Artie’s work-in-progress play, Sam and Mercedes possibly being back together… Until Blaine brings it back around to the discussion he attempted earlier.

“Kurt, I know there’s something more going on than just lack of sex,” Blaine says. He’s concerned again, his brow wrinkled with worry.

Kurt wants to argue that it had been about sex, at least in a way. Kurt had missed his connection with Blaine - and hadn’t been aware of how deeply he needed to feel close to Blaine again until he had realized just how long it had been missing. However, Blaine is right, and there are deeper things going on. He wouldn’t normally call Blaine the sneaky one - he definitely held that title - but he knows Kurt enough that sometimes sex could be a throughway to Kurt’s emotions. Kurt being relaxed and gentle, and feeling safe enough after sex, that it allows him the opportunity to say what he needs to.

“Well, for one, we’re now unemployed,” Kurt says, not quite meeting Blaine’s eye. Outside, a few birds fly over the idyllic lake, the sun setting peacefully on the horizon. The pit of anxiousness began to stir at the thought of leaving this place and heading home.

“Okay…” Blaine says slowly.

“And almost thirty.”

“True.”

“And I think, maybe, as much as I love performing, I think I want more stability in my life.”

Blaine gives him a kind smile. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah - I get it,” Blaine says with an ease that Kurt can never quite get when planning his life. “We’ve been doing alright, and have a little bit saved up, and I have a few solid auditions coming up. So if you want to take some time to figure out what you want to do long term, that’s fine with me.”

Kurt let out a heavy sigh. He loves Blaine, he really, really does. “I don’t know what I want, Blaine.”

Blaine gave a shrug. “And that’s okay. You’ll find something. We’ll both find something.”

Kurt runs his fingers through Blaine’s hair, then a finger slowly down Blaine’s cheek. “I’m sorry I ruined the weekend. I know you thought it’d be relaxing.”

Blaine laughs. “I’m sorry I let Rachel ruin our evening. I need to say no to her more, I know. But at least she made up for it.”

“Well, she could have sprung for the Hilton, but I suppose this will do,” Kurt jokes.

“At least it’s not outside - and it has a bed.”

Kurt lets out a laugh before giving Blaine a kiss. There’s a little more heat behind it than he intended but that’s fine. What else are they here for?

“We should start scheduling this again,” Kurt says, as they trade slow kisses. Round two is a go, but neither are in any hurry to get there. “It definitely worked for us in high school.”

Blaine pulls away, “Mmmm, Sundays are a bad time to start then. It’s a school night and my parents want me home by nine. Maybe we should schedule for next Thursday when your dad works late.”

“Don’t kill the mood, Blaine,” Kurt says, laughing as he goes back for a kiss.

#s.o. writes things #in the city that we love #klaine #klaine fic #hey putting a new thing out there - i promise other things aren't being ignored <3

61 notes · View notes

cherryyharryy · 4 years ago

Note

please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

#Harry styles requested #Harry styles requests #requests #request #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst to fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 4 years ago

Text

An Embarrassing Secret

Word count: 2150

I feel like some of these are sort of repetitive, but maybe that's because I've had to reread them to proofread so many times? In any case, you all seem to enjoy them! I hope you like this one as well.

* * *

“Ah! Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see!”

Loki flopped down on the couch beside you, jerking you from your thoughts as the couch cushion bounced under his weight. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned your gaze from the television to the Asgardian beside you, only inches of space between your leg and his.

“Me? What do you need from me? Trying to prank your brother again?” you snickered.

“Not this time, no. I just thought I should come find you and let you know about something interesting I learned this morning,” he replied, an impish lilt to his voice.

“Is this something I would find interesting? Or just you? Because the way you said that, I feel like I probably won’t find it nearly as interesting.”

“Oh, I believe you’ll find it very interesting,” he assured, a smirk tugging at his lips. Something about the way his gaze was fixated on you was unsettling. You paused the TV and turned your full attention to the god.

“What is it, then?” you questioned hesitantly.

“I learned quite an interesting secret about you earlier today.” There went your heart again, skipping another beat.

“You… did?”

“Oh, yes.” His smirk grew wider.

Your mind was racing. What on earth could he be talking about? Did he figure out you had a crush on him? What if that was the secret?? Was he disgusted by it? Did he reciprocate??

“That is interesting,” you noted, trying to keep your voice even to prevent him from seeing your anxiousness. “And… what was that, exactly?”

“Well…” he began, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, “… this morning I happened to be perusing the library, trying to select a new novel to read. While I was wandering between shelves, I happened to notice something of yours sitting out unattended.”

You thought hard, trying to recall what it was you had been doing in the library. Had you even gone to the library this morning? You couldn’t even remember what you had for breakfast. Then again, it was difficult to concentrate with those blue-green eyes gleaming in front of you…

“And what was that Loki?”

“Your laptop.” Loki was now typing something into his phone, holding it in a way that you couldn’t see the screen.

“My laptop?” You rarely brought your laptop to the library with you, as you were typically reading books and had no need for electronics. You wracked your brain trying to remember when the last time you had even brought it with you to the library, looking away from the trickster so you could think straight.

Then you remembered. You’d brought it with you last night, hoping to get some peace and quiet away from the others, who were causing quite a ruckus in the common area playing one of Peter’s video games. You could still hear them through your bedroom door, so you packed up your laptop and brought it to the library with you to continue writing.

Writing. Oh. Oh no. No no no.

Your heart dropped into your stomach the moment you realized where this was going. Still, he hadn’t mentioned anything specific about what he’d seen yet, so you made every effort to keep a straight face. You weren’t about to give away a bigger secret if he had only learned something minorly embarrassing.

“At first, I was uncertain to whom the device belonged, and as it was already left open on the table, I decided to see if I could determine the owner so I could return it to them,” he continued, “and I found the screen to be unlocked when I turned the machine back on.”

Yep. You knew exactly where this was going now.

“You act like you were trying to do a good deed or something, but you were obviously just snooping around my stuff, weren’t you?” you muttered, trying to throw him off with your annoyance.

“Shh - I wasn’t finished with my recounting of the story yet,” he scolded facetiously. He had finally finished tapping buttons on his phone and was now scrolling through something on the screen. “When the screen unlocked, I saw quite a fascinating narrative typed out on the screen. Truly a masterpiece, really.”

“Y-you read it?” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh, I did more than that darling. I also scrolled through and reviewed the rest of your little webpage.”

Your face was burning red hot against your palms now. If you could have just melted into the couch and disappeared, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. You felt your heart pounding in your chest with nervousness and embarrassment at the whole situation.

“Shall I read some aloud for you?” he asked.

“Nooooo Loki,” you moaned, your voice muffled by your hands. You lifted your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees and hiding your face behind them, trying to become as small as possible.

“Ah, here is a good part: ‘The dark-haired god suddenly tackled you to the floor, pinning your arms down at your sides under his knees as he dug his long, slender fingers into your sides.’” You pulled your knees even closer to your chest. If the floor could swallow you whole now, that would be fantastic. “Darling, you’re not paying attention.” A poke to your side caused you to jolt one arm down away from your face to protect the sensitive skin. You stole a quick glance at the god, your eyes wide.

“D-don’t!” you exclaimed.

“Isn’t this what you want?” he asked, prodding your side a few more times, causing you to jerk away each time he made contact with your thin T-shirt. “Let’s see… ah! Another great line: ‘He drilled his thumb into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.’”

You started getting up off the couch to try to make a quick exit then, hoping to hide in your room for the rest of eternity. Loki caught on before you got very far, though, and grabbed hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

“Let go!” you begged, refusing to look at him as you pulled your arm hopelessly to try to escape his grasp. He tugged you closer, quickly wrapping both arms around you and tackling you to the floor. A thrill ran through your chest as you found yourself staring up at the god of mischief, your wrists pinned to the floor at your sides in his hands.

“Seem familiar?” he asked, smirking. He leaned off to the side, looking at his phone screen beside you on the floor. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I remember.” Loki’s fingers connected with your sides, scribbling and kneading in the best worst way. You shook your head rapidly, still too embarrassed by the whole situation to allow him to hear you laugh. “Your narrative appears to be inaccurate – according to this, you should have ‘giggles bubbling from your mouth’ but I hear nothing.”

“Loki! S-stop teasing!” you pleaded, covering your face with your hands once again now that your wrists were freed from his grasp.

“I’m simply pointing out there are some inconsistencies in your writing, y/n.” He moved his fingers to your belly, scratching maddeningly gently at the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up from squirming. You couldn’t hold back the giggles anymore, but you did manage to keep one hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your voice as you brought your other arm down to protect your torso.

A small part of you, buried deep underneath the raging embarrassment you still felt, was loving every second of this playful side of Loki. Clearly you had fantasized about this before, as evidenced by your writing. You just hadn’t anticipated he would actually find your fics, much less read them and use them against you.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” he goaded, interrupting your thoughts. He picked up his phone in one hand while continuing to dig into your belly with the other to keep you squirming while he thumbed through more of your posts. “Here’s another excellent excerpt: ‘he moved to flutter his fingers against the delicate skin behind your knee, squeezing just above your kneecap simultaneously with the other hand, making you snort.’ I would very much like to hear that, I think.” He moved down to mimic his fictitious self in your writing, making you laugh out loud and kick your leg frantically. “Y/n, I’m not hearing any snorting. So many discrepancies; I have to wonder if you’ve ever been properly tickled in the same way as your fictional likeness.”

“Stohohop… stop making fuhuhun of my writing!” you demanded, although it wasn’t very intimidating laced with your laughter.

“Oh, I don’t jest, dear – I’m merely pointing out facts. Maybe this will make you snort.” He reached down and grabbed your ankle in one hand, lightly tracing the sole of your socked foot with one finger. You, indeed, did snort. “Aha! Maybe you should have requested assistance before posting these inaccuracies.”

“LEAVE MY FEET ALOHOHONE!” you shrieked, yanking your leg to escape his grasp. He responded by simply tightening his grip, dragging four fingers up and down your foot, making sure to note which spots made you jerk. He settled on scratching gently just below the ball of your foot, laughing himself as you rolled side to side trying desperately (and ineffectively) to evade his fingers.

“You realize, darling, you’ve essentially written a map to every ticklish spot on your body. I know exactly how to exploit your unfortunate weakness.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by unexpectedly switching to digging his fingertips between your ribs. The suddenness of his movement made you squeal, batting weakly at his hands. “It’s adorable, really, how you are pretending to fight me, when we both know this is exactly what you want.”

“SHH! Shuhuhut up Loki!” you countered. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“You wound me, darling,” he teased, smirking. “What did that one quote state? Ah, that’s right! Your ‘death spot’ as you’ve titled it?”

“Wait! Nohoho I’m sohohohorry!!” you panicked, planting your feet on the floor, and trying to scoot away from your assailant.

“I don’t think you are, actually.” His fingers were inching vexingly closer to your ‘death spot’ as he’d pointed out. He found humor in the fact that your laughter slowly began pitching up in octave the closer he got. “I’m pleased that you’ve written this down for me to find, y/n. I don’t believe I’d have found it otherwise – as I understand, it is not a conventional place to be so unbearably ticklish.”

“No! No no! Plehehease Loki!” you pleaded, albeit halfheartedly.

“Hmm… alright then,” he conceded, moving back down to tickle your right side, moving his other hand to scribble on the right side of your belly. It had exactly the effect he was hoping for, causing you to jolt and roll hard toward his hands. Quickly, he grabbed your left side and pushed you all the way over onto your stomach, pinning your hands down to the floor with his knees. “On second thought, I think I’m going to do it.”

“NoOAHAHAH!” you practically screamed in laughter as his fingers made contact with your back, just below your shoulder blades. Seemingly encouraged by your reaction, he applied more pressure, gently kneading between the backs of your ribs. Your nerves were on fire with ticklish electricity, and you tugged desperately to try to free your hands. It wasn’t long before your laughter became silent, your shoulders shaking as you laid there and just accepted your fate.

It seemed Loki had noticed the sudden silence, and he removed his torturous fingers from your back, releasing your hands so you could roll back over. You curled up on your side, knees close to your chest and arms wrapped around your torso rubbing the residual tingles off your sides. He hovered over you, leaning close to whisper in your ear.

“You know, darling – if you wanted me to tickle you, you simply had to ask. I find it quite adorable.”

“Oh my god, Loki…” you groaned, covering your face with your hands once again. A single finger scratched under your arm, making you pull your arms back down. “Stahahap!! Can’t you see I’m embarrassed??”

“Mm, I can see that. But was it worth it?” he asked teasingly, planting a kiss on your cheek. The flames ignited by his lips spread across your face, up to the tips of your ears.

You supposed that, just maybe, it was worth it.

Part 2: A Difficult Question

#loki tickle #ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #tickle fic #marvel tickle

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yinses · 4 years ago

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kinds of tattoo artists

|jjk edition|

rqst: after sukuna i cant staph thinking about what the others would be like as tattoo artist

a/n: these are probably my favorite things to write. i love the format.

G O J O S A T O R U — he has a story for every tattoo ever. one’s he owns, seen and inked himself. they could all be true, but you find the vibrating hum of the needle against your skin easier to ignore when you focus on the vivid imagery of his tales instead. he’s a very good storyteller, never skimping on the details and adding comical commentary around every corner. you connect the threads of each narrative to the accompanying bold lines stretching up the length of his arms. swirls and various shades making for very convincing illustrations to the novel he’d created. before you know it, your hour is up, cutting his retelling just short of the art peeking under his shirt. you could get lost in those baby blues as they twinkle with mischief. they leave you so wrapped up in strings of intrigue that you actually consider a second tattoo despite your hesitations of the first. he looks proud of his work, and should be, deserving off all five stars you planned to give on his review. “don’t like it too much. tattoos can be pretty addicting, after all.” he remarks as he rubs cream into your swollen flesh. yeah, you think, addicting was the right word.

G E T O S U G U R U — the look he gives you when you tell him it’s your first is almost enough to make you reconsider. it’s not rude but there is a hint of condescension as he coaxed you to go into more details about location and coloring. ultimately, you end up in his chair anyways, lip bitten as he goes about preparing supplies. the point of no return comes all too quickly as he peels the sterile needle from the one use pack. “i would offer to let you hold my hand but-” you look up from the skin pinched between two of his fingers to the same smug grin that had greeted you at the door. something on his face must have changed, because slowly so did his as he breathes out a sigh. he surprise you by guiding one of your hands just above his knee, fingers squeezing around yours once before pulling away. “if it gets to be too much squeeze hard but don’t jump. id rather give you a breather than have you pass out on me.”

I T A D O R I Y U U J I — if anyone was going to do your tattoo, you’re glad it’s your boyfriend. he’s more patient than most artist would be. attentive to every squirm and flinch and mindful how a single twitch could leave you with a permanent mishap. you’re going nearly thirty minutes over what was expected, but he’d scheduled out an ample block of time prior, mindful of your skepticism. “hey, hey, we’re almost done,” he mutters, hand stopping when he notices the water behind your eyes. “want to stop, baby?” you do. want the endless burn to finally go away, but you want to finish it equally as bad so you steel your nerves and shake your head. something akin to pride curls at the corners of his lips as he starts back up the motor but not before pressing a quick kiss to yours. “it’s going to look beautiful on you. just you wait. it’ll be worth it.” and you believed him.

F U S H I G U R O M E G U M I —he’s not one for conversation, choosing to rather concentrate on his work than idle chatter. but he doesn’t seem to mind if you do. and so you find yourself talking about any and everything as the clock ticks on. the entire process is almost cathartic. pent up tension escaping you with every word and each pin point of the needle etching away at your skin. this was suppose to be your bold change. something different to stamp a revision on your life while mounting a memorial of your past. or at least that was the speech used to butter yourself up to the idea. at the end of it all, you’re staring at something better than you’d imagined, and dont delay telling him as much. your words ignite a blush that crawls up his nape, barely hidden by the sheepish hand rubbing over the skin. “i-uh... don’t mind doing your next one. if you want one to remember your friend by.” he’s already turning away from your blink of shock, throwing care instructions over his shoulder as he prepares the bandage.

F U S H I G U R O T O J I — it comes as a surprise, because he’s the owner. something pointed out to you by a friend when you’d accompanied them to the shop in the past. he only took on special guests, you’d been told. spending half a day bent over a customer completing yet another work of art that keep the business in high praises. he didn’t bother with the small things. so why he the one offering to pierce the little stud above your naval? eventually you would get a tattoo but you weren’t quite ready to take the plunge. but you’d been eying the cute studded crystal since your last visit. it looks as good as you thought it would, twinkling bright under the hooded lamp. he seems to think so too a thumbs over the tender flesh just above the piercing. “you were so good for me. not even a flinch.” you found yourself caught staring at the sharp cut stretching across both lips as they work into a smile. “you’ll have to come back and let me mark you up for real.”

C H O S O —he thinks you’re cute as you stumble through the explanation of your design. accommodating but insistent when you began to doubt yourself. ultimately, your idea hadn’t changed but you felt it lacking as you stared at the temporary imprint reflected in the mirror. you were his last appointment of the day, and surely eating up his time, but he refused to let you just go through with it. there was a light scold in his voice as he rubbed alcohol against your skin to wipe away the markings. “if you’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right.” you should have been halfway through your tattoo now as the neighboring stations close down for the day. but he waves away your timid glances as he nudges a new sketch book your way. in a way showing you his work had been somewhat counterintuitive, rather than help you settle on a design, you’d been overwhelmed and visibly intrigued by the numerous portraits and motifs. you spent more time compliment the his steady hand for being able to produce such detailed works than you’d progressed to coming any closer to honing in on your own tattoo. eventually he’s the one to call it a night, chasing away your frown with an offer. “tomorrow’s my day off. why don’t you meet me at the cafe around the corner and we can brainstorm this with the help of caffeine.”

#gojo satoru x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fugiguro x reader #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk imagine #gojo x reader #megumi x reader #yuuji x reader #geto x reader

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chemicalpink · 4 years ago

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Hii I think it would be really interesting if you could tell about Jungkook soulmate. Like why are they so popular aside from being his soulmate, what makes them special spiritual wise. Because a lot of ppl say this person is super strong and have a pure type of energy. Please share more on that.

Okay, so I actually did more research for this than my actual undergrad thesis.

So first off I wanna say, this is the way * I * see it, from my 15 years of spiritual experience, there is obviously much more to it since astrological aspects and divination in no way defines a multidimensional human being and their connections to people, if you’d like to know something else feel free to ask, I’ll do my best to answer (with my own ethical limits and respectful of the privacy from the ones involved)

OKAY so, a crash course on soulmates, there are a lot of types and they may not present themselves as romantic partners, most of them, especially if karmic, will leave your side once they’ve helped you through something.

It’s kinda tricky to know if someone is your soulmate unless you can do an in-depth synastry analysis, which means knowing exactly the two charts, of course, on a personal level, if you are in tune with your own energy, you can come across people and tell they’re part of your soul family.

So really, what has surprised me the most about the whole “JK’s soulmate” is just exactly *how* it came to be, did someone did a synastry with their own chart, saw karmic aspects and was like yeah I’m his soulmate, then transformed it into an oh he has a soulmate, or are we starting from this man having no filter and saying that he’s waiting for *the one*?

I really REALLY wanted to trace back to the first-ever post of him having a soulmate, couldn’t find it so all we can go from are tarot readings and really him saying he knows there’s someone out there for him.

Astrologically speaking many people analyze his Juno, but I’d say it’s in general… what he likes in a partner in terms of marriage.

Apart from that, as I’ve said before, all the info on his soulmate derives from tarot readings/predictions and some people that say they channel his higher self.

From my experience, yes, Jeon Jungkook is sure that he has a soulmate, that they are somewhere out there and that he’ll meet them sometime, he’s a big softie (we’ve talked about how he likes to always remind me in my readings that there’s a past-life partner, his true love, his soulmate)

Now, I hate to bring up couple’s therapy but a relationship is between two people, which means that as much as he is longing for this soulmate, this other person is on their own life path, we don’t have a chart for them obviously, so all we got left are general divinations, asking questions, getting answers from either tarot, charms, rods, pendulum, whatever, it is always us asking questions, plus, divination does not provide an accurate answer, they just read between the lines of present energy and provide a most likely outcome to situations.

As I said before, there’s a lot of *in between* information, like, do they know who their soulmate is, are they looking for each other, how is it likely to play out and out there, many people seem to talk about it, especially about this person being a ‘runner’ in the connection, saying that they will make Jungkook wait and a lot of stuff that to me, sounds like they are antagonizing this potential soulmate because let’s get real, Jungkook is a very sought after celebrity, so of course it makes sense to antagonize a potential partner of his.

The thing is, this man has no filter whatsoever, whatever awakening he’s through, he now knows that voicing his opinions on *finding the one* have come to bite him in the ass because there’s a lot of energy shifts, people manifesting him, self inserting themselves on the narrative that they are potential soulmates for whatever reason. I think there’s a blurred line between you know, doing a synastry reading with a celebrity and actually acting upon the astrological aspects, astrology is contextual, a big *most of the time* that is not a rule, so having karmic aspects with someone might mean you’ll get to know them, or it could simply mean that you came across them on their path as artists and they helped a lot through their art. Who knows. The universe knows, so if it’s meant to be, it will be.

Now, my take on the whole info that’s out there on Jungkook’s soulmate, (if they are the one appearing on the readings and not another partner) from my experience reading for him.

People saying that they are older, mmmm yeah I kinda get where they’re coming from, if you are an intuitive reader, you get the ‘old soul’ vibe from reaching out to the connection, but as always, the universe doesn’t provide the ultimate truth, so I’d stick with *old soul* not older, they could be more mature, could be older, can even go as far as to say they’re more traditional. We don’t have a way to accurately tell.

People saying that they are a foreigner, I honestly- don’t know where this comes from, as I’ve said before, we don’t have an accurate way to confirm, just short term divination which means that whatever outcome people see is most likely from his soon to be partner or current partner, if his soulmate is indeed a soon-to-be partner and foreigner shows up, I mean yeah, could be, he’s an international artist, would make sense for him to fall for a foreigner as much as it makes sense for us foreigners to find him cute (?

That they see each other in astral/ through dreams. Well, I don’t know, I guess they could if they have the right mental space and a lot of spiritual work (? Soulmates are usually hard to reach honestly, cause what’s the point of getting to know them before they can be able to fulfil their earthly deed with you. I’d say that it’s more like the universe giving hints to the connection and not a one-on-one type of thing. Then again, why would you even go as far as to invade their astral privacy and get an answer about it (? Also, I need receipts on how exactly people got this info.

That his soulmate is a runner. Okay first off, don’t go and rummage into other people’s trauma and present it on the internet. A runner is supposed to be one part of the soulmate that is running away from the connection, while fully aware of it for whatever reason. Then again, how could someone possibly reach for some specific higher self if you don’t know who they are (? Entities are tricky, could be some other energy saying they are JK’s soulmate or another person that is manifesting them. There’s no clear way to know that any type of personal/spiritual info is 100% true.

His soulmate is someone spiritual. Probably, soulmates tend to have similar timings to their spiritual journeys, and while we don’t know who they are, we can see Jungkook being attracted to the spiritual so it’s only fair to asume they are too. I’d like to add on a personal note that I would say yeah, they are, and a strong one at that. Not because of any type of divination but because whenever I try to get info on them (by supposing they are a soon-to-be partner, reaching via Jungkook) it is very VERY hard to get an answer.

So in conclusion, please don’t forget that just as there is much more to Jeon Jungkook other than him being part of BTS, there is so much more to him than what the tarot or his chart says about him. It’s always fun to spill some tea on him and any other celebrity, but please remember that neither of those spiritual tools resonate fully with who he is, his preferences, his interpersonal connections or any other matter. They just see what’s there and are the *most likely to be true* answer, no one knows better than ourselves when it comes to personal info. Aside from that sure, perhaps there are ways to tell some deep deep answers about him and his soulmate via very hard concentration and connection processes but really- in this economy (? Why would you do that to yourself, we’re in the middle of a panini why would you sacrifice your mental health like that. Jungkook and his soulmate that he is so much as longing for is a personal connection between the two and sooner or later (ahem I’d say later) they’ll find each other.

With that being said and back on my silly self, all of this doesn’t mean I’ll stop doing love readings for him, I love roasting Jeon Jungkook (within boundaries) because he likes to piss me off constantly reminding me that I’m a lonely potato that has had (and lost) three soulmates.

#bts astrology #bts tarot #jungkook soulmate

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romanceboys · 4 years ago

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(interview) w korea september issue 2020 — reptile

1. i was surprised to learn that this is your 13th year since debut. within a company, the years almost reflect the experience of a vice department head. that’s right. though there are things i’m seeing for the first time at this point, i think there’s a lot that has remained the same. shall i tell you something funny? early in the year, i transformed into my debut appearance from when i was 16 with a bowl haircut and had my picture taken. i put it up on instagram and as i watched my fans briefly mistake it for an old picture, i thought to myself ‘well at least my face hasn’t aged much yet.’ haha. 2. today, i get to meet one of the personalities i’ve been very curious about personally. how should i put it, you seem like a person who possesses a perfect narrative. oh my, thank you. 3. maturing steadily after debuting with shinee in middle school, you broke away from your image as the group’s youngest and instead donned the clothes of a solo musician. all 5 of your solo albums have been recorded as hits. now you are a member of superm that has gone global. even a narrative within a coming-of-age novel could not be as sturdy as this. when i look back on my life, i find it quite fascinating. i entered the company at the age of 13, and this year i turned 28. i’ve lived half of my life as a singer, i realise this when i think ‘i’ve run along the same path for a long time’. i think... i’ve been very greedy. it was through this greed that i was able to debut in a team called shinee, and consequently receive solo plans. once, producer lee sooman told me to bring him a recording of any pop song. wondering ‘what’s going on?’ i prepared for it and submitted, and soon after my solo album was released. thinking back, it must’ve been a test. i felt a sense of accomplishment in these things. that too very deeply, of course luck was on my side too. 4. a methodical company like sm couldn’t have proposed a solo career so lightly. there were a couple of tell-tale signs as far as i could tell. my singing parts were little during debut. after all taemin had the image of the one in charge of dancing. then my parts started to increase gradually, this could’ve been one of the signs. back in the day i used to stay back in the practice room till dawn. the employees working late would see me and the word probably went around. they must have felt sorry for me. a skinny boy practising by himself till dawn (laughs). 5. were you the type to stay back later than the rest in the practice room? i would go to the practice room as soon as we wrapped up our schedule. i’d practice till sunrise then return to the dorm and prepare for the next schedule immediately, i spent a long time doing this. 6. it was at the time of ‘sherlock’ in 2012 that your stage presence started to shine in shinee’s stages. thereafter, it seemed that you enjoyed your time on stage thoroughly. when did you begin to realise that only you were in command of your own stage? there were a couple of times... sherlock was one of them. sherlock was an album that came out when i was 20, right after becoming an adult, it was then my attitude towards performance changed. in those days i challenged myself to ‘not to do what was expected/fixed.’ usually our gestures at certain sections of the song are fixed beforehand, from sherlock onwards however i tried my hand at different things without reserve. it was my way of approaching the audience with sincerity, and my way of improving in the future. back then i would notice variations (in my performance) everyday when i monitored myself. 7. frankly, isn’t it difficult for someone to have made such a prominent leap? i think it might have been because of the long hiatus before sherlock. i was able to prepare well so my growth was likely more obvious when i stood on stage after a long time. how should i put it, my members were very stimulating for me. since the hyungs aren’t ordinary people (laughs). this is something i’m confident about, even if you say that most of the shinee members are main vocalists, none of us is inferior to the other, everyone is so talented. with these thoughts verbatim ‘i must survive in here,’ ‘i need to finish what i started,’ i practiced. i couldn’t not have made the leap with such stimulation and not to mention my greedy nature (laughs). spending time together with the members made me realise that we started to resemble each other in some aspects, thanks to them i was able to broaden my perspective and become aware of my undiscovered talents. 8. the prologue single ‘2 kids’ of your third album ‘never gonna dance again’ released in august. as i was listening to the song, i suddenly became curious about the lyricist and looked them up. my impression was that the language of the lyrics was raw and honest. the lyricist turned out to be you. my intention was to include everyday, colloquial speech. i’ve written poetic and abstract lyrics before, but while working on ‘2 kids’ i wanted the listeners to easily grasp the emotions at once. since i’ve released many songs like ‘danger’ with vivid concepts and sensual performances, i expected there to be some distance between me and the public. i found that i shouldn’t stray too far. in any case, i’m a pop singer. i thought to myself let’s meet the public halfway, and the result was the lyrics for ‘2 kids.’ it’s the brightest of all my title tracks (laughs). 9. i find two interesting points here. first, you are completely aware of your identity as a pop singer, second, to do that you work hard to keep close to the public. of course there are times when it doesn’t work out (laughs). for instance, when we’re deciding on the title track for a shinee album, my opinions always diverge from the members’. after listening to our fourth album title track ‘view,’ i said ‘no way, it can never be this!’ (laughs). what i’m after is, how shall i put it... there is a side to me that wants to experience things profoundly. for example, if i were to express love, instead of depicting it one-dimensionally, i’d prefer to do it maniacally. i like taking it one step further to appear twisted. 10. that’s amusing. it’s probably because i’ve seen your easy-going appearance on tv a lot, i would have never guessed for you to approach things ‘deeply’. profound people tend to be like that. ‘multi’ people are able to do several things at once, i can’t do that. i have to dig into things deeply at a time. that’s why when my members and i receive the same schedule notice, i’m the only one who always forgets it (laughs). 11. oho, this makes me curious about your taste in pop culture. i really like the british drama <black mirror>. i get hooked on the unusual. like mind-boggling things? i used to watch movies that weren’t popular because such movies are less likely to repeat contents that have already been consumed. but then i slowly began to enjoy light films as well. these days i leave a movie running in the background while i do other things. back when i would look for an independent film or thriller of my liking, i’d get extremely exhausted after watching it. they require so much focus that they sap my energy. 12. we were talking about lyrics but somehow ended up here (laughs). if you were given the opportunity to write lyrics again, what kind of story do you want the lyrics to convey? i like philosophical lyrics. for instance, a song called ‘soldier’ from my solo album deals with religious content, it varies from time to time of course but well if i were to write again... i think about this a lot these days. i want to change myself, i want to shake off my image uptil now and be reborn again. 13. why is that? i want a colour that is more concentrated and unique. as if i'm debuting again, i want to show something completely new that i had not before. 14. but aren’t your comebacks always novel? a musician like you who does diverse and experimental concepts is rare. is that so? sure the concepts are always new but... these days i think about how i want to change myself as a person from the very inside. instead of putting a facade on display, i have a thirst for wanting to show a more humane, genuine appearance. all humans experience moments of weakness and dysfunction. i think these moments definitely hold some beauty in them. the moment a person breaks down. it’s the only way one can get up and overcome difficulties again, i believe showing these sides of me, all of me, unabashedly is a path i need to walk as an artist now. 15. honestly, i’m excited for your third album because i heard this album reflects your ideas the most. what aspects of the production were different this time? firstly, i personally cast and liaised with the music video director. i thought it was important to work with the director one-on-one by keeping mediators to a minimum. through several meetings we mulled over every single thing like concept, outfit, hair and makeup. i offered my opinions too: ‘because i’m thinking of leaving a connecting link in the prologue, since there are two albums that would release following ‘2 kids,’ i want to drop certain keywords in the music video.’ fans usually call this a ‘bait’ (laughs). 16. the choreography stood out the most in the ‘2 kids’ music video. you weren’t simply moving to the rhythm, rather weren’t you moving your body guided by emotions? actually there were barely any plans to include dancing scenes. but i thought you never know so i quickly prepared a choreography the day before i left for paris. initially, i had a ‘dramatised’ (borrowing elements from drama) choreography in mind, but the director was expecting something modern. in the end, we expressed it well with a choreography that the director and i came up with after finding the perfect common ground. 17. personally i think a dramatised choreography would have been quite alright because ‘2 kids’ is a universal love song. i told the director i wanted to look miserable and pathetic through and through, like falling into a bottomless pit, wrecked, to be found waking up in the middle of the street, that would do too. why did i want to be that wrecked? i don’t know. there’s just a lot that exists within me. and i might have wanted to express that.... 18. with your first solo mini album <ace> you proved your grit as a solo musician to the public, and i believe your second album <move> reified your colour. i think taemin is a musician who doesn’t need to prove himself anymore. having reached this status, you’re releasing your next album <never gonna dance again>. did you ever think that this album could be it? rather, i hope that this album can be my ‘turning point.’ just as how it was during sherlock, i hope this time it changes my identity completely, as an individual and as a performer. people might like this album or find it mediocre, but i try not to care about these things now. 19. were you the type to stress over feedback? yes. because there are many people who are uncomfortable with change. but then i realised we’d never be able to free ourselves from within if we continued to be tied down. so now i’m trying to notice these things less. 20. have you ever had this thought? that looking back, the experimental has always revolved around you. as i said before, i think there is a lot of something within me (laughs). people have recognized that, there’s a lot i want to do. there is a greed for wanting to be different from others. it’s not that i want to ‘appear’ different but truly be different. 21. do you think there is an aspect of you that others can’t follow? i can’t seem to figure it out. i’m looking for it. however, my satisfaction level with myself tends to be low. and it’s something that has been guiding me till now. 22. what helps you recharge the most? i like lower-body bathing so much (laughs). as soon as i get into the bath, i automatically end up going ‘euu’ ‘aah.’ i soak my body completely, light up a scented candle, then let my body warm up like this. 23. while watching your vlog-like youtube content taem-log, i wondered ‘does he have an affinity for household goods?’ since the camera often captured your surroundings, i noticed pretty glasses and a colourful coffee machine adorning your cupboard. not at all. my mother did all of that (laughs). she’d say ‘this would suit taemin~’ then set it up prettily for display on the shelves. sometimes i do think i’d like to furnish my house with antiques if i were to move in the future. this is a bit funny but i find the houses in old horror movies so pretty. 24. i saw a bottle of moët & chandon in your refrigerator, is champagne your regular choice of alcohol? i rarely drink. i usually receive gifted alcohol quite a lot, it all goes to my father (laughs). my mother brought the moët & chandon and left it in there. i asked her to leave a pretty bottle in there at least for decoration purposes, so she probably brought it just for that? (laughs). 25. what kind of a person is 28-year-old taemin? i sort of want to set things ablaze. i want to put up a spectacular finale of the opening act. 26. how do you want to be remembered as a musician? as a great person. i say this knowing it sounds a bit grandiose but it’s my mission. 27. i can see it. the bigger you become the larger the impact you can have on society. i will become that person. so that many people can hear the message i want to convey.

translated by romanceboys — take out with full credit (source)

#shinee #taemin #p:taemin #w korea magazine september issue 2020 #interview #translations #e:never gonna dance again #enjoy!

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hopelessromanticvirgo · 4 years ago

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Metro’s Crush [14]

Chapter 13

“Her husband is in jail.”

“Why? What did he do?”

“Murdered a kid.”

“Why a kid?”

“I have no idea. But I can feel it. I feel it in her eyes. Look how tired she is, she’s probably taking care of their kids alone.”

“Nobody to help her?”

“No. Her parents are dead and after her husband got arrested, his family decided to never talk to her again.”

“Do they see and visit the grandchildren at least?”

“No. They just disappeared.”

Sander did a gesture with his hands which probably mimicked the word ‘disappear’ and made some kind of sound, looked at Robbe who couldn’t keep holding his laugh in and started hysterically laughing, throwing his head back, softly punching Sander’s right hand in the process. People looked at him weirdly but he didn’t care.

He didn’t care about anything.

They are on the metro, for how many hours already, Robbe can’t remember. They have been riding it back and forth. Sitting on the same spot, talking.

Sander has been doing his usual “what’s their story” game, looking at some strangers’ face and outfits, their mood and trying to guess or make up their life story about them, telling crazy scenarios in Robbe’s ear, making him laugh and shiver.

Sander just finished talking about a divorced man and how he was ill and studied abroad and now he changed back to the murder storyline.

“You’re unbelievable.” Robbe looked at him with a soft look on his face, admiring and loving every word or joke Sander said.

They just went on their first date, which went better than Robbe would have imagined, they sat down on a cute, little, quiet cafe and drank some coffee and as usual, after some time, like their habit, they decided to come back to the metro.

That was hours ago and now, Robbe was only listening to Sander’s silvery voice and was watching closely to his body language.

Sander would get so concentrated and determined about this fake stories he makes up, that it was almost funny. How he’d try to think so hard about what’s bothering the person he was describing, like he was really looking into their souls to find out what they have going on behind their faces.

And Robbe loved every single of those stories and he always listens so carefully to them, trying to connect with Sander as best and as much as he possibly can while relaxing in his seat, but today he just can’t sit still, something is bothering him and he knows exactly what it is.

Robbe hasn’t touched him enough today.

He found out that Sander doesn’t like Robbe touching him that much. He thought he was imagining it at first but after a while, when Sander would try to get his hand free a few times when Robbe would hold it, but he’d brushed it off like it was nothing and it was an accident, Robbe realized that he couldn’t touch Sander a lot and that thought made him more upset than he’d admit.

He wants so badly to hold his hand, or to touch his face, his hair, his skin.

Everything Sander would allow him to touch.

But even if he can’t touch him all the time, he pleasures the moment when the other boy is allowing him to show affection. And Robbe takes his chances each and every time that happens.

Robbe also always wants to impress the boy, so he tries to get himself included in their little games, or Sander’s game to be specific.

“You see that girl over there?” Robbe finally got a chance to sit closer to him after Sander went and moved away from him a little bit just a moment ago, their thighs now touching each other, put his head closer to him, turned it towards his ear and started whispering in his ear after he pointed on the girl he was talking about with his eyes. Sander nodded, throwing him a side glance.

“I think she’s an artist.”

“What makes you think that?” Sander asks, clearly more interested now after Robbe mentioned his hobby.

“Well, see that boots she has. It has a red paint on it.” Robbe’s tone changed into amusing, his voice became narrative.

“It could be blood.” Sander smirked and slowly whispered it to him, looking at him which made Robbe roll his eyes.

“Can’t you stop? Your serial killer story is over now. Let me talk.”

Let me impress you.

Let me make you laugh.

Let me admire you.

Let me touch you.

Let me love you.

Just let me.

Sander nodded his head but didn’t say anything else, looked in front of him.

Robbe decided to take his chance of being this close to his body and touched his hand which Sander kept under his bag, sitting on his knees. The boy noticed and looked over at him but kept being silent, didn’t make a sound, which made Robbe intertwine their fingers together, holding it tight, afraid to let it go. Afraid that Sander would make him let go of it again.

“I think she’s about to sell her first work. Look how she fidgeting? She’s nervous. She needs other people’s approval. I think her dad loves her younger sibling more and she always does everything to make him see that she’s talented, that she’s enough but it never works. He just treats her like a problem, somebody who tries too hard but never succeeds. And now she’s going to show her art to the judges, she’s making her first independent choice and she’s terrified. She hopes to take care of her self alone but she needs people. Everybody needs people in the end. And she hopes that they will like it, so she can finally feel like her own self, so she can finally feel that she’s doing a good job, so that she can finally feel that she matters.” Robbe didn’t realize how carefully Sander was listening to his every word, how quiet he got, how his smirk dropped.

They stayed silent for some time but then Sander turned his head towards Robbe and kissed his cheek, which made Robbe look at him up and down surprised.

“What did I do to deserve that?” He asked.

“You didn’t have to do anything.” Sander whispered against his face, his breath hitting Robbe’s skin, making goosebumps appear on his body.

“I want to sell my drawings too you know?” He said after some time. Robbe hummed, and his whole body completely froze when he felt Sander getting closer to him and putting his head on his shoulder.

Robbe felt the warmth going though in all of his muscles and kissed the top of Sander’s head, putting his arm around his shoulder.

Robbe felt a lot of emotions, emotions he can’t describe but loves but there were some things Robbe didn’t feel.

Robbe didn’t feel Sander shivering and shaking after the gesture.

Didn’t feel how his heart started beating so fast that he felt like he’d choke on his breath.

Didn’t feel a cold sweat going down on his back.

Didn’t feel the void sounds and voices whispering horrible things in his head.

Robbe didn’t feel that at all.

* * *

They didn’t notice how fast the time passed and how they were all alone in the cabin.

They have been joking around all day long, making each other laugh, teasing and touching one another. But when they do noticed the environment around them, it was already a little too late.

Suddenly, while calming down from another laughing session, Robbe looked around and his eyes went wide. They were completely alone, the train was still moving but he couldn’t see anybody.

“What time is it?” He asked but Sander didn’t understand what he meant at first.

“It’s our time.” He joked and smiled and no matter how cute Robbe thought he was acting at that moment, he shook his head.

“No, I’m serious.” He took his phone out and looked at the time. It was 23:45.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “I didn’t realize so much time has passed.”

Sander looked at Robbe’s screen too and when he realized what was happening, the color of his face changed, his skin got white and he looked terrified.

“Shit, where are we?” He started looking around but of course, there was no way to tell where they were, they were underground, in the tunnel.

And they waited for the next stop to come and when it did, it was clear where they were. Sander’s station was left behind them and Robbe’s stop was in two stations.

“Don’t worry, we won’t get stuck in here.” Robbe reassured him but he was also nervous, probably because it’s was late and nobody knew where he was, his mom also must have been so worried.

“It’s closing in 15 minutes.” Sander said strictly and Robbe almost whinced at the tone he used.

“And we will be on my stop in 6 minutes.” He said carefully and started looking around at the empty seats.

He couldn’t help but a part of him was very excited with the thought of them being together in here, completely alone. He’d give anything, would probably sell his soul to be in this situation with Sander two years ago, even a few weeks ago too. Something never changes but the world does and here they were, next to each other and Robbe looked away and put his head on his shoulder to hide his little smile.

The train finally stopped and they got off. They looked at each other and around, saw how there was only one or two person in the horizon, going on their ways. They had a long stairs to walk up to.

“Which way?” Sander asked, since the tunnel after the stairs where divided in to ways.

“Left.” Robbe said and then he looked at the time again.

“Babe.” Sander called and when Robbe looked up at him, he didn’t give him any warning or time, he started running up the stairs.

“Wait. What?” Robbe yelled after him and followed.

Their laughs and the sounds of feet hitting the ground were echoed in the whole place, Robbe managed to hold Sander’s hand while they were both running which almost made him fall down the stairs but Sander caught him right on time and before they knew, they were running on the tunnel, towards the exit.

“Fuck, wait, stop.” Robbe’s legs betrayed him and he made Sander stop with him, both of them breathing unevenly and fast.

“I thought you were an active kid.” Sander joked but it was clear how tired he also got from their run. Robbe only shot him an annoying look, bended over on his knees, trying to calm down his racing heart.

But his pulse wasn’t rapid only because of this, it was about to burst out from being this close to Sander. Robbe would never get over how one day he was weeping about the reality of never seeing this boy ever again and now, how fast they became a thing and how he was seeing him every other day and how easy all of this was.

It felt like a dream, a dream he’d never want to wake up from.

After a minute or two, Robbe got up on his feet, and looked at Sander standing there, breathless, his cheeks red, his hair messy, his bag, which he dropped on the floor, and tried to take him all in.

He smiled and stepped closer to him, which didn’t go unnoticed by Sander and he asked a silent question with his eyes, curios, but Robbe didn’t give him any warning, step forward until he was right in front of him. And he could see all the emotions that went on Sander’s face, confusion, understanding, nervousness. “W-what are you - ?” He started but didn’t get a chance to finish it because Robbe closed the space between them, pushed him against the wall and kissed him.

And it felt magical, thousands of times better than anything he could ever imagined.

Sander’s lips were soft against his but unmoving. And when Robbe was about to pull away after getting no reaction from the boy, he felt Sander pulled him closer to his body too, his hands going on his shoulders, his hand getting lost in Robbe’s hair, tugging on it, making the brunet moan and part his lips slightly which made Sander slip his tongue in.

And Robbe felt like he was on cloud nine. His whole body started shivering, his legs became weak and he didn’t want this feeling to ever stop.

Kind of felt like a drug.

Kind of felt like an addict person, getting nicotine inside his body after being clear for a very long time, that rushing thought, an excitement and how he could finally sigh and breath again.

Drugs are suppose to kill you in the end, damage you enough for you to beg for everything to stop.

But Robbe is sure, Sander isn’t that kind of drug.

He’s addictive but it’s a good addition.

Or that’s what Robbe thought back then.

Maybe some addictions can’t harm you or maybe they can but you’re too oblivious to see it.

After they stopped, Sander pulled him closer, hugging him tightly and Robbe closed his eyes, enjoying every second of it but it didn’t last long, since the need to taste him and touch his lips again was stronger so, without realizing what he was doing, he started kissing his ear, going down to his cheeks and neck. And that’s when he felt Sander’s hold got a little bit weaker but he didn’t pay it any attention. Sander threw his head back a little bit, giving him more access to his skin on his neck and Robbe gladly took it, gluing his lips to the spot.

And then he touched Sander’s face, hold both of his cheeks in his palms and kissed him again, it felt like he didn’t know what he was doing, his whole body was controlling him but he was more than happy for that.

“Ah - wait - Robbe - someone - someone might - “ he heard between the kisses but didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop.

And when he put his index finger on Sander’s lips and whispered “shh” he finally lost it and didn’t hold back his self anymore.

That hungry animal living inside him which only craved for this moment to happen woke up and Robbe could see red, his whole body exploded and he even got a little worried because of how much he was feeling.

Robbe couldn’t stop touching and kissing him. His hands going up and down on his body, finally after so long, he had a permission to touch and he couldn’t not take a chance.

But Sander pulled him away after a while and Robbe’s whole face dropped.

“What?” He asked, already afraid that he went too deep, he crossed a line and boundaries. But when Sander smiled cheekily at him, he calmed down a little bit.

“I just - can’t breath.” And Robbe laughed against his body, hugging him closer, putting his neck on his shoulder.

“You have no idea how long I waited and wanted this”. He whispered in his ear and felt how Sander swallowed.

He felt a hand on his back and smiled.

He could definitely get used to this.

“We need to go.” Sander said after a few moments, when they calmed down a little bit.

“You’re right.” Robbe agreed, taking his hand and they told started walking towards the exit but couldn’t help themselves. They’d look towards each other and laugh, look away blushing and that’s when Robbe realized, he wanted to have this for his whole life.

When they got there, there was one woman, who smiled when she saw them and joked “you boys are lucky, if you were two minutes late, you’d have to stay here all night long.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting locked in here with you.” Robbe mumbled in his ear while trying to tug him with him.

Sander laughed and Robbe noticed how the woman threw a dirty look at them when she saw their intertwined hands and when Sander let his hand go, Robbe heart dropped but he smiled again when he felt Sander putting it on the small part of his back, pushing him in front so they could walk out easily.

And when they went outside, Robbe still couldn’t stop wandering his hands, couldn’t stop touching him, kissing him, while trying to walk and not fall on the ground.

“What are we doing now?” Sander asked after a while.

“I don’t really know how to get home from here and I don’t think I have any money left for taxi.” He started looking around, trying to figure out where he was and how he should go back home.

Before Robbe even realized what he was saying and suggesting, he turned Sander’s head so they were looking at each other and said: “you can stay at mine.”

Sander’s eyebrows went up after hearing that.

“Robbe, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He started but Robbe didn’t give him any time to finish it.

“No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. You just can stay to spend the night. How can you get back home now? And honestly, I don’t like the thought of you going back home at this time alone so you can stay over. I can sneak you in.” Robbe winked at him at the last sentence and Sander couldn’t help but shook his head and laughed but after some more convincing from the boy, he finally gave him and agreed.

* * *

Robbe opened the door very quietly, looking inside, not letting Sander in yet. After didn’t hearing anything, he took Sander’s hand and guided him to his room.

“I’m glad you didn’t make me go inside from the window.” Sander joked-whispered and Robbe smiled but it froze on his face when he realized what Sander said.

“Somebody has sneaked you in before like that?”

Somebody has sneaked you in before too?

“Yeah, once.” The quick jealousy went through Robbe’s blood, curious about the story behind that sentence, but didn’t dare to ask for more.

“This way.” He said and pushed Sander in his room and breathed out when he successfully managed to get inside without waking his mom up but his happiness didn’t last long when Sander decided to drop his bag on the floor and the loud bang could be hear in the whole house.

Robbe’s eyes went wide and he winced, throwing his arms around as if that would turn the time back and would make the sound disappear.

His deadly look only made Sander laugh and he had to put his palm over his mouth so he couldn’t make a sound. But after the house continuing to be silent, they decided that nobody has woken up.

Robbe closed the door slowly, taking his jacket off, dropping it on the chair next to his bed, walking up to Sander slowly, shaking his head, fighting a smile.

“What do you have in there? Rocks?” He asked, trying to act annoying.

“No, knifes.” Sander teased, coming closer to Robbe, which made the brunet roll his eyes.

They were standing right in front of each other, a moonlight dimming in the room, making it dark but light enough to see each other’s figures and faces. Robbe put his arms around Sander’s shoulder, making each other’s bodies glued together.

“Too many killer jokes today. Should I be worried?”

“I could be a psychopath and you invited me to your house.”

“You’re too cute so I’m ready to take a chance of you murdering me in my sleep. At least my last minutes will be shared with a very hot guy.” Robbe saw how Sander put his head down, which made their forehead touch each other, but didn’t make any move, so they stayed there, for some time, just holding each other in the darkness until Sander muffled voice asked “shouldn’t we go to bed” ruining everything, but Robbe nodded anyways, letting go of him.

And they got ready for the bed, silently.

Sander wanted to sleep on the left side which was the side Robbe usually slept but he decided to be a gentleman and let him have it, thinking they would both end up on the same side of the bed in the end anyways but his hopes and dreams were very much disappointed and crushed when Sander laid down very far away from him and Robbe wasn’t enjoying that at all.

He was too far away.

But Sander, oblivious to Robbe’s desperation to touch him, didn’t say anything about that fact, as if he never considered touching the brunet while they would go to bed so Robbe tried to not think about it.

And he really tried but his hands were begging to go over to him. Begging to hold him close after all this time of imagining this exact moment.

This was finally a reality and Sander was only one feet away, on Robbe’s bed, in his bedroom.

This was a thing Robbe only dared to think about, in the wildest of his imagination, in a very far part of his brain, in the darkness, afraid if he thought about it loudly, he’d accept it being a part of his mind.

Now, he was finally living his dreams and his only mission was to get closer to the body, laying next to him.

So he waited.

Waited until he thought that Sander went to sleep and slowly turned around and sneaked up on him, putting his arm around his waist, pushing him closer to his chest and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of having him in his arms.

But he still noticed how Sander’s breathing changed.

He was wide awake.

But didn’t make any comments. Just stayed there, and Robbe breathed out.

The feeing of calmness didn’t last long when Sander tried to turn around, making Robbe’s grip loosen up and Robbe’s heart dropped.

He was trying to get away and Robbe was about to move, upset that no matter what Sander always end up rejecting his hands and affection, when Sander did something which surprised him instead.

He turned around and made Robbe push down on the bed, on his back with his hand and laid his head down on his chest, tangled their legs together.

Robbe smiled to himself and got his fingers lost in his hair, kissing his forehead.

And he finally decided to relax.

The atmosphere around him was too peaceful and he only felt the happiness inside his body which made drifting off to sleep way easier for him.

Unfortunately, Robbe wasn’t wake enough to hear how Sander whispered “I think I might be out of my mind and I’m going crazy but I think that you're the one” with tears in his eyes, against his skin.

Chapter 15

#wtfock #wtfam #sobbe #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #social media au #Metro’s Crush #vds #van der stoffels

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anarchist-billy · 4 years ago

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“Not now, Billy!” He’s five years old the first time his father says those words to him, the first time he hears that voice, raised and dripping with irritation. Billy snaps his mouth shut, fingers curling around the paper in his hand, crumpling the edges. He just wanted to show off the drawing he made at kindergarten, wanted to see his father’s eyes light up as he praised him for how good it was - the way his teacher had. His mom is at the stove, stirring the soup she’s made them for dinner, and she thinks she’s being ignored, but Billy sees the roll of her eyes as she glances back at them. She doesn’t say anything, just goes back to stirring.

Not now, Billy

“Get away, you weirdo!” Caleb Parker is Billy’s best friend in third grade. Or was. Billy’s pretty sure best friends don’t yell at each other in front of everyone at recess. He’s pretty sure they don’t push each other, either. But Caleb’s hands connect with his chest with enough force to knock him onto his butt. Billy sits in the mud, blinking up at Caleb’s retreating back, the laughter of their classmates mingling with the rushing of blood in his ears. His cheeks feel too hot, like they’re going to burn off of his face. He gets up, swiping furiously at the tears that start falling from his eyes, and runs for the door of their classroom. His teacher doesn’t say anything as he rushes past his desk, out into the hall, and into the bathroom. He runs into a stall and slams the door shut behind him, pressing his face against the cool metal. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. Caleb’s been his best friend since first grade. Just the day before they’d gone to the park across from Caleb’s house, played tag and competed to see who was best at the monkey bars. Caleb won. And when they sat side-by-side on the swings, Caleb had reached out and taken Billy’s hand. It was the first time anyone had held Billy’s hand, aside from adults when they crossed the street or his mom at the grocery store. Billy had been surprised at how different it felt - Caleb’s hand was warm, despite how chilly the Autumn day was, and Billy wished he’d never have to let go. Billy just tried to say hello, like he always did. And Caleb pushed him, looked at him like he was discarded gum on the bottom of his shoe.

Get away, you weirdo

“I can’t stay here anymore,” the words are hushed, wet, accompanied by labored sniffling. “I just…god, Syl, I can’t fucking breathe.” Billy’s ten years old, sitting on the other side of the kitchen wall, TV turned low in front of him as he doodles in the margins of his math homework. It’s not the first time he’s overheard a conversation between his mom and someone named Sylvia. Some faceless woman his mom never talks about, just whispers to over the phone when his father’s not around, fingers nervously toying with the chord. It is the first time he’s heard her say those particular words, though. The first time he’s heard the tears in her voice. The first time she doesn’t join him in the living room afterwards. The next morning he wakes up to his father throwing her records at the wall, and when he slips past him to check their bedroom, he sees the open, empty drawers of her dresser, the absence of her toothbrush by the sink. She didn’t take him with her.

I can’t fucking breathe

“You let a guy suck your dick one time and suddenly he thinks you owe him something, like some needy little bitch.” Billy’s fifteen years old. He’s not supposed to be hearing this, but the smugness in Jeffrey Humbert’s voice sends rage searing through his chest. Jeffrey had practically begged Billy to suck his dick at the party over the weekend. He wasn’t even drunk or high like most guys are when they ask him for it. And Billy agreed to it, cause he liked the attention, however fleeting it was. Problem was, Billy actually liked Jeffrey a little more than he liked most guys who asked. So maybe it meant more to him than it should have. And maybe he was an idiot for thinking this time would be different, this time Jeffrey would reciprocate, wouldn’t pretend he didn’t know Billy from Adam afterwards. Billy wouldn’t be making that mistake again. He slammed his locker shut, relishing in the sharp silence that followed, and turned the corner, coming face to face with Jeffrey and two other boys from their PE class. The two other boys look nervous, but Jeffrey looks unbothered, the smugness still showing in his expression. That’s his mistake. Billy gets up in his space, reaches a hand down to cup his dick through his gym shorts and squeeze, hard. Jeffrey lets out a whimper, tensing with the pain. “Keep talking, asshole,” Billy snarls right in his face. “You’ll learn, I’m pretty good at talking, too.” And talk is exactly what Billy does. He learns the art of talking shit after that, spreading rumors, weaving intricate stories that have everyone around him wrapped around his finger. He relishes in the attention of it all. Relishes in the way no one can touch him. No one knows the truth lying just under the surface - that it’s all a facade. Control the narrative so it can’t control you.

Like some needy little bitch

“Jesus, do you ever stop talking?” Harrington’s a pretty guy. One of the prettiest Billy’s ever seen. And Billy’s got him right where he wants him - at arm’s length. Harrington hates him, just like Billy designed. He doesn’t have a clue about the way Billy’s eyes track him through the halls at school. The way Billy plies Tommy with beer in order to get more information, figure out what makes Harrington tick, what pisses him off, how he can keep up this game he’s playing. He doesn’t know about how Billy lies awake late at night sometimes, thinking about those perfect lips - thinking first about what it would feel like to get them around his dick, until his thoughts drift to more dangerous territory…What those lips would feel like against his own. How that tongue, which pokes out when Steve’s concentrating really hard in class, would taste. How his skin would taste. How his voice would sound, all high and breathy when Billy touches him in all the right places. Billy talks shit, taunts and mocks, and makes as much ruckus as he can, desperate to keep Steve in that sweet, safe spot. And Steve behaves. For a time.

Jesus, do you ever stop talking

“Stay.” Billy lifts his head from where he’s bent over, searching for his shirt on the floor, and meets Steve’s soft, imploring gaze. He doesn’t move, doesn’t think he can. Everything inside of him is telling him it’s a trap. Or maybe he misheard the word. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a moment of weakness, and it was going to cost him everything. There’s a buzzing in his head, white noise that’s telling him to get out while he still can. But then Steve’s warm fingers brush over his ribcage, curling around his waist, tugging until Billy gives in. He lets himself be drawn back into bed, back under the covers. “Sleep better when you’re here.” Steve whispers against the back of his neck, breath tickling the skin there before his lips press against it; comforting in a way Billy never imagined he’d experience.

Stay

“No, I like it when you’re like this.” Steve’s cheeks are pink as he ducks his head, as if trying to hide from Billy’s gaze - but Billy doesn’t miss it. He wonders if he could feel the heat of them, if he was brave enough to reach out and touch. Steve’s sitting beside his hospital bed, listening to him ramble about all the music he can’t wait to listen to when he can go home, back to his stereo and his extensive collection of tapes. “Like this?” Billy asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. “Talking about stuff you love,” Steve answers, a little quieter this time, but he meets Billy’s gaze again, and he smiles. “Oh.” Billy says, a bit dumbly. And then it’s his turn to blush, looking down at his lap, where he’s picking at the dead skin around his fingers. Wetness gathers at the corners of his eyes, and closes his eyes to try and keep it from spreading. Steve’s hands reach out then, covering his hands, stopping him. And Billy can’t help smiling, just the tiniest bit, as he turns his hand over and threads his fingers with Steve’s.

I like it when you’re like this

#harringrove #i can't tell if this feels complete #or as emotionally impactful as i want it to #but i'm sick of thinking about it #and writing is like pulling teeth these days #so this is the best i've got to offer #brought to you by the song Smother by Daughter on repeat for several hours

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shifuaang · 5 years ago

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Just wanted to say it’s nice to see someone agree Aangs parenting in LOK is grossly out of character. I keep seeing people contort the situation into pretzels to make it work. It comes close to ruining the franchise for me

I almost have to divorce LOK from ATLA in order to enjoy it, which is really kind of sad considering how it's so integrally connected to its source material and yet seems to mishandle said source material at every opportunity.

LOK recycles the same familial conflicts as ATLA. Both Aang and Toph are painted as bad parental figures, which seems like a complete character assassination of the two of them as well as of Katara who was married to Aang and seemingly allowed him to mistreat Kya and Bumi. I wrote a much more in-depth meta on this narrative choice and how it contradicts the character strengths and flaws that were given to Aang in ATLA here if you’re interested.

Basically, I think it’s very unlike Aang to show favoritism to his airbending son when he sees firsthand how badly favoritism affects both Zuko and Azula. Aang is shown to be extremely excited about sharing his culture with Katara and Sokka and is more inclusive than anyone else in the Gaang. I love Aang because he is human and has many flaws, but to make him a bad father taints his legacy, is lazy writing, and almost ruins the series for me as well. Forgive me for going on a rant, but I’ve wanted to talk about my grievances with LOK for a while, and your ask inspired me to make a list soooo away we go:

I hate that the rules of bloodbending are retconned to create the conflict in season one - it diminishes the Avatar's ability to energybend and take away bending as a means of justice (specifically Aang who had to defy all of his friends and the rules of the world in order to defeat Ozai without compromising his culture and morals). Why can Noatak and Tarrlok bloodbend when it's not a full moon? Just because they will themselves into doing so? If this is true, surely Hama would have figured out how to utilize this technique as she was also abused and had just as much motivation as the two brothers to be a survivalist and hone her powers.

The Harmonic Convergence allows airbending to come back too quickly. It all feels too neat and tidy. While I absolutely adore the restoration of air nomad culture and watching that come to life, it's not enough of a slow burn for me. I feel that it lessened the extraordinary pain that Aang experienced being the last of his people. If they're going to go the route of the lion turtle being the one to bestow bending (which I don't like, but we'll get there), why not include a plot where the Air Acolytes go on a quest (led by the Avatar who is the bridge between the spirit and physical world) to find him and have him grant them airbending? That would have been far more interesting to me than the spirit world conveniently opening up and restoring balance.

The whole concept of the lion turtle being the bestower of all bending leans far too much into the Western-centric idea of some kind of monotheistic creator. I was happy to accept the existence of benders, non-benders, and the Avatar without there being any sort of long-winded explanation for why they came to be. Sometimes when shows try too hard to give mystical elements backstory and lore, it takes away from the intrigue and magic behind everything. LOK in general is far more Western-centric than ATLA. The spirits of Raava and Vaatu aren't necessarily a bad addition, but they are written as completely black and white. The dichotomy of good vs. evil doesn't exist in ATLA - even Ozai's life is given intrinsic value and careful consideration despite the fact that he is, by all accounts, an irredeemable dictator. Tui and La, push and pull, lend themselves to a far more complex and morally grey narrative.

With LOK moving in a more Western direction comes a blatant lack of respect for Asian cultures, particularly Buddhist culture. Nothing is as well-researched or planned as ATLA's plot and cultural references. From fartbending to straying from Eastern themes and spirituality, it all just feels very juvenile, which is ironic considering LOK was meant to appeal to an older audience.

While I almost loathe to say this because Zaheer is such a well-written character and intriguing in ways that even ATLA's villains aren't, his achieving enlightenment and learning to fly is a slap in the face to true morality, concentration, and wisdom, which are the main pillars of Buddhist thought and training. You're meaning to tell me that Aang had to struggle with opening seven chakras, letting go of earthly attachments, and literally dying and being resurrected in order to go into the Avatar State, but all Zaheer had to do to achieve what only one other airbender has achieved is watch P'li die? He got to unlock a previously insurmountable airbending technique after breaking every moral airbending code, including taking life with his bending? I'm not buying it.

On a similar note, the way cultural appropriation is glossed over in LOK is also incredibly inappropriate. LOK has a real opportunity to explore racism, blackface/brownface, and the sexualization of ‘exotic’ characters in Old Hollywood when Bolin is cast as Nuktuk, but his role in the films just becomes a running gag. It shouldn't sit right with anyone that someone who is half Fire Nation is playing a waterbending hero only about 50 years after the hundred year war in which the Fire Nation almost eradicated waterbenders.

The relationships are not very well-written. Love triangles are a terrible plot device, and Bolin's abusive relationship with Eska is played for laughs. I don't like Korra being cut off from her past lives in what feels like some desperate sort of ploy to get the fans to break ties from the old characters and only care about the new ones. The copaganda is gross, and Toph becoming a cop makes very little sense to me. The plot can be messy and contrived, and the pacing isn't great.

So you're probably wondering, why do you even watch LOK? It sounds like you hate it. I truly don't. The animation is beautiful, the fight sequences are amazingly choreographed, and I really enjoy some of the new characters like Asami, Tenzin, and Jinora. I think LOK is a good, solid show on its own, but it's impossible to hold a candle to its near flawless predecessor.

#lok criticism #lok critical #anti lok #legend of korra meta #aang defense squad #atla #thepaladinwritess

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dreamersleeps · 4 years ago

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Icarus, the Sun, and Apollo

(Part One: Mythological Influences in Boku no Hero Academia)

Note: I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I just need to get it out of my head. Apologies if the connections I’m trying to make here are hard to follow or if someone else has already written about these topics. Anyways, I really do enjoy trying to spot references and what sources may have served as influences in stories. It’s a cool way that authors and in this case, mangaka weave real life into their fiction.

I’m going to first start off with Greek mythology and than go in to Egyptian mythology. I’m going to be working with a lot of images, so to keep this post from being super long and agonizing to get through, I’ll separating them into different posts.

Hawks and Icarus

This first started out with me looking in to how the character of Hawks is an Icarus character, inspired by the Greek mythological figure who goes by the same name. In the story of Icarus, the boy plummets to his death after the sun melts off the wax on his man-made wings. There are many posts that further draw connections between Hawks and Icarus on Tumblr so I will leave it at that.

Pictured above is “The Flight of Icarus” by Jacob Peter Gowy (1635-1637)

Endeavor the Sun

So if Hawks is Icarus, than who is the sun that burns his wings? I’ll be only focusing on the actual physical burning of his wings, nothing narrative related. The first time we see his wings being burned is during the High End Nomu fight when he sends his feathers to help Endeavor “fly.” Endeavor obviously has a fire quirk that could connect him to the sun but it’s the finishing attack move he uses against the High End in Chapter 190 that further supports the connection for me.

According to the BNHA Fandom Wiki, Prominence Burn is an attack that “allows Endeavor to launch a massive, concentrated beam of fire from his entire body that is able to vaporize his target.”

So what does Prominence Burn have to do with the sun? Below is an image of a solar prominence. According to NASA.gov, “a solar prominence (also known as a filament when viewed against the solar disk) is a large, bright feature extending outwards into the Sun’s hot outer atmosphere.”

Dabi and Apollo

The second character who burns Hawks’ wings is Dabi. This happens in Chapter 267. Now that it has been confirmed that he is Touya Todoroki, we can determine that he has the sun imagery around him as well. He is the son of Endeavor, giving him a direct relationship to the “sun.” His name “Tou-ya” translates roughly to “light arrow” so I’ve seen people draw connections between Dabi and the Greek mythological figure of Apollo, a god famed for his usage of bow and arrows. He is the god of healing, medicine, archery, music, poetry and most importantly the sun, after he was combined with Helios, the original “god of the sun.”

Interestingly, one of the duties that Apollo was assigned was to pull the sun across the sky every day with his sun chariot. Not sure if there was an intended connection but, hear me out: Endeavor = sun and Dabi = Apollo, who drives the sun chariot.

Picutred above is “Aurora with Apollo Driving the Sun Chariot” by Constantino Cedini (1741-1811)

We now know that the High End Nomu was sent by Dabi and Endeavor’s resulting victory helps solidify his position as the Number 1 Hero in the public’s eyes. Similar to how it’s Apollo who makes the sun rise at the beginning of the day, Dabi played a huge role in Endeavor’s push to become Japan’s “new hope,” or “light in the darkness” after All Might’s retirement.

However, Apollo also makes sure that the sun sets at the end of the day.

#dabi #todoroki touya #bnha #bnha meta #mha meta #endeavor #todoroki enji #hawks #takami keigo #mythological influences #visual #meta #mha #spoilers #touya reveal #luna writes #my post

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terramythos · 4 years ago

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TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 16 of 26

Title: Tales From Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle #5) (2001)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Short Story Collection, Novella, Third-Person, Female Protagonist

Rating: 8/10 (note: this is an average)

Date Began: 7/2/2021

Date Finished: 7/6/2021

Tales From Earthsea is a collection of five short stories and novellas which take place in the Earthsea universe. In addition, there’s a supplementary timeline of Earthsea’s history, tradition, and cultural details of note. The last story in the collection, Dragonfly, serves as a bridge between Tehanu (#4) and The Other Wind (#6), the final book in the series.

Of the five stories, my favorites (both 10/10s) were The Finder and On The High Marsh.

The way one does research into nonexistent history is to tell the story and find out what happened. I believe this isn’t very different from what historians of the so-called real world do. Even if we are present at some historic event, do we comprehend it— can we even remember it— until we can tell it in a story?

Content warnings, individual ratings/commentary, and spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Death and violence, child abuse (including implied sexual abuse), police brutality, slavery, reference to torture and execution, brief reference to inc*st, misogyny, animal cruelty, mild body horror, very brief implied mind control via a "love charm" (it doesn't work).

#1 - The Finder (10/10)

In The Dark Time, magic is widely mistrusted. Petty tyrants use the once noble art in pursuit of power and glory. Medra, the son of a shipwright in Havnor, has magical talents honed in secret. One day, he curses a ship built for a warlord’s fleet. Unfortunately, he gets caught and sent to a prison camp. There he is forced to use finding magic to locate veins of cinnabar.

The prison exists to refine quicksilver, a substance the most powerful mage on the island believes will turn him into a god. While in the refinery, Medra feels a spiritual connection to a dying slave, a young woman named Anieb. The two of them devise a plan to kill the mage and escape. Medra’s journey eventually takes him to the island of Roke and the founding of its prestigious wizard school.

‘The dead are dead. The great and mighty go their way unchecked. All the hope left in the world is in the people of no account.’

I really enjoyed this novella. The Dark Time is largely unexplored in the stories of Earthsea, so it was interesting to read about it here. I get the feeling that we’re approaching or in the middle of one such time in the real world, so seeing a version of it on the page is depressing yet hopeful. The story is dark; mass feudal warfare, a literal concentration camp in the opening half, widespread enslavement, and abuse of power. But it also offers hope and the promise of change. The story also explores the integral role of women in not only the preservation of magic in a bleak age of humanity, but the very foundation of Roke.

Medra’s story spoke to me; how he resists the despotic powers-that-be, his connection with Anieb even after her tragic death, and how despite his disillusionment with humanity, he ultimately fights to create a better world. I also thought Gelluk was a horrifying villain. He’s characterized as a soft-spoken, almost kindly man who loves children and animals— yet his narrative thoughts involve burning hundreds of slaves alive in order to better fuel the quicksilver refinery. “Nice doesn’t mean good” taken to an extreme, and a mirror of many villains in the real world.

Le Guin was anti-capitalist, but that way of thinking seems peripheral in the Earthsea series. The Finder, however, definitely has a Marxist reading in it. A recurring theme is the disenfranchised rising up against the powerful. Indeed both antagonists, who are despotic wizards of great power, are soundly defeated by groups of people they consider powerless. Magic is only considered relevant for the value and power it produces, an idea antithetical to the rest of the series. The quicksilver refinery also embraces anti-capitalist rhetoric; this section focuses on how mass enslavement and death is used to manufacture a meaningless commodity only one person “benefits” from. That’s not even getting into the prison-industrial complex.

I dunno. This story slaps. It’s not at all what I expected from a Roke origin story.

#2 - Diamond and Darkrose (5/10)

Diamond, the son of a prosperous lumber merchant, struggles to find his true calling in life. His father disapproves of almost everything he does, including his close friendship with the local witch’s daughter Rose. While he loves music, his father derides his talents and forces him to abandon the pursuit. When Diamond shows some promise in magic, he travels to a neighboring town to serve as the local wizard’s apprentice. But when this path estranges him from Rose, he grows disillusioned.

Rose had looked after herself from an early age; and this was one of the reasons Diamond loved her. With her, he knew what freedom was. Without her, he could attain it only when he was hearing and singing and playing music.

I did not like this story very much. I gave Diamond and Darkrose a 5/10 because it’s competently written (duh), and the protagonist has a character arc not entirely dependent on the central romance. But that’s about all I can say for it.

None of the characters are especially appealing. Diamond’s mentor figures are all extremely narrow-minded. Rose, supposedly his true love since childhood, drops him the moment things become difficult. And Diamond himself is a pushover who only grows a spine and pursues his dreams at the end of the story. I understand that’s his character flaw and his arc is about overcoming that. But due to all these factors, I was annoyed by every major character. The only person I didn’t dislike was Diamond’s mother, who only shows up for a couple of scenes.

Someone please tell me there are love stories out there where the romantic tension is NOT based on a fucking MISUNDERSTANDING. That shit drives me up a wall! It’s so overdone and painful to read.

#3 - The Bones of the Earth (8/10)

Dulse is an aging wizard on the island of Gont, reflecting on his life and relationship with his former apprentice, a young man he calls Silence. But he senses something amiss on the island; a massive earthquake poised to destroy a nearby port town and its inhabitants. To avert disaster, Dulse realizes he must turn to an ancient form of magic taught to him long ago— and he needs Silence’s help to save the town.

In there he knew he should hurry, that the bones of the earth ached to move, and that he must become them to guide them, but he could not hurry. There was on him the bewilderment of any transformation. He had in his day been fox, and bull, and dragonfly, and knew what it was to change being. But this was different, this slow enlargement. I am vastening, he thought.

So I’ve always liked Ogion in the main series; I love the idea of an immensely powerful wizard who lives an unassuming life of silence, contemplation, and appreciation of the natural world. In The Bones of the Earth, we get a glimpse of Ogion through his mentor’s eyes. Ogion’s heroism and how he stopped the earthquake is mentioned several times in the main series, but this is our first look at what actually happened.

Dulse is an unexpected and fascinating perspective character. It would be so easy to tell this story wholly from Ogion’s perspective, but I think making Dulse the protagonist was the right call. In particular, Dulse’s mind is starting to go. Le Guin presents this by utilizing flashbacks and connecting them to the present. This technique conveys Dulse’s disorientation and confusion so the reader experiences it alongside him... it’s hard to describe without actually reading the story. I also loved the little twist at the end regarding where Dulse learned the ancient magic that saves the island. There’s also a strong thematic connection to The Farthest Shore; death and becoming one with the rest of the world.

#4 - On The High Marsh (10/10)

A half-mad wanderer named Irioth comes upon a small settlement on the volcanic, marshy island of Semel. A murrain has been devastating the local cattle population, and Irioth offers his powers as a curer to heal the animals. He settles into a calm rural life with Gift, a widow working a small dairy. Though Gift likes Irioth, and the animals instinctively trust him, she senses something amiss with the man. Soon, Irioth’s dark past threatens to return and disturb the peace.

“Oh, yes,” Irioth said. “It was my fault.” But she forgave, and the grey cat was pressed up against his thigh, dreaming. The cat’s dreams came into his mind, in the low fields where he spoke with the animals, the dusky places. The cat leapt there, and then there was milk, and the deep soft thrilling. There was no fault, only the great innocence. No need for words. They would not find him here. He was not here to find. There was no need to speak any name. There was nobody but her, and the cat dreaming, and the fire flickering. He had come over the dead mountain on black roads, but here the streams ran slow among the pastures.

This story is a banger. It has a Western vibe— a stranger coming into a cattle town haunted by a mysterious past. Also cowboys. It’s an atmospheric story, and I think hits on the “small rural town” vibe better than Tehanu did. But there were several writing choices I especially liked.

We don’t learn Irioth’s name until a little while into the story; his physical description, temperament, and ability to immediately identify Gift’s true name just by looking at her makes one assume he’s Ged. He’s also got an interesting redemption arc, because it’s presented in a reverse order. We see Irioth’s genuine desire to do good, and his gentle and patient manner with animals and other people. He doesn’t even consider asking for payment for curing the murrain until Gift tells him he should. But there’s a sense that something is off; he’s paranoid, clearly running from something. The use-name he picks is Otak, a fictional ferret-like creature— which Gift asserts looks nice, but has sharp teeth.

Near the end, Ged actually does show up and explain what happened to Irioth. They have pretty similar backstories; both were powerful, arrogant young mages who messed with forces they shouldn’t have, then went through great personal sacrifice to right the wrong (oh god the initial deception was intentional they’re narrative foils oh god). Ged embraced the darkest aspects of himself to avert calamity. Irioth came to Semel to escape Roke and atone by helping others. One detail I especially liked was that Irioth once considered healing beneath him, but now he takes a deep joy in using it to help.

#5 - Dragonfly (8/10)

Irian lives a solitary life-- her father is a drunkard living in the ruins of their family’s once prosperous estate. Her closest relationship is with the local village witch, who named her in secret in the dead of night. When a disgraced young wizard named Ivory comes to town, he sees Irian as a potential conquest. To gain power over her, he hatches a scheme; disguise Irian as a man, travel to Roke, and sneak her into the male-only wizard school— humiliating the great Masters.

But Irian is restless. She knows she has power, but her true nature is a mystery even to her. Irian sees Ivory’s plan as an opportunity to find answers from the most powerful wizards in the world. When the Doorkeeper actually lets her into the school, she finds herself in a magical and political conflict over the future of Roke— and discovers what exactly she is.

“Dark is bad,” said the Patterner. “Eh?”

Irian drew a deep breath and looked at him eye to eye as they sat there. “Only in dark the light,” she said.

This is one of those stories that has a rocky start, but a great second half. The first part of the novella felt dry to me; I’ve read plenty of tales about social outcasts with weird, unexplainable powers. On top of this, a chunk of the early narration is from Ivory’s POV, and he’s a complete tool. That can be a fun perspective to take, and I like the fact that he thinks he’s manipulating Irian when she’s the one pulling the strings. But since he’s an irrelevant character who disappears from the story halfway through, it feels like a waste to devote a huge chunk of the story to him.

However, once Irian arrives at Roke, the story gets much more interesting. Her presence at Roke causes a huge scandal that divides the Masters. Women being forbidden from Roke is a Series Thing at this point, but Earthsea is in an era of change (although I DO question that she’s the first woman to try it). The Finder demonstrated that women were pivotal in the foundation of Roke, something largely erased from history. Barring women stems from a power hungry bigot codifying it into tradition.

Irian finds some unexpected allies--minor characters in the previous books. The Doorkeeper continues to be the coolest motherfucker there. The Patterner is a major character in this story; he was in just one scene in The Farthest Shore, so I liked learning more about him. The Namer is the kind of guy you’d expect to be a stodgy traditionalist, so him siding with Irian is surprising. The Summoner, a heroic figure in previous books and stories, is a sinister villain here. As for the ending, well… if you didn’t see it coming, I’d wonder if you even read Tehanu. The same hints are there.

There were little particulars I liked, such as Irian moving into a decrepit hut that’s definitely Medra’s old home. My favorite detail is that this story has a parallel scene with The Finder. In The Finder, there’s a scene where an antagonist, Early, invades Roke in the form of a dragon. He lands on Roke Knoll, a site of power that reveals one’s true form. It turns him back into a human, leaving him defenseless when the residents of Roke attack him and repel his invasion. The reversal happens in Dragonfly. Irian gets attacked by one of the Masters while at Roke Knoll — and its magic turns her into her true form, a dragon. Props to whoever picked the cover design, since it references both scenes.

#6 - A Description of Earthsea

I’m not rating this since it’s basically a lore dump. It’s a deep dive into Earthsea’s history, languages, cultures, and other relevant world details. It’s the kind of bonus info a lot of fantasy series tack on as reference material. According to Le Guin, she wrote this to get some idea of the timeline on each of these stories.

As a series, Earthsea has relatively little worldbuilding exposition. Sometimes characters reference legends or historical events, but usually the reader lacks the context to fully understand them. The focus is more on the lives of the characters and their personal experience of the world. I think something like A Description of Earthsea has benefits and drawbacks for the reader. On one hand it's nice to have some definitive information to tie things together. On the other, this does represent a loss of some of the mystery in the story.

I think this is the first thing in the series that even mentions homosexuality, so props for that I guess?

Closing Thoughts

A short story collection is always going to have high and low points. I tend to look at each story individually and score that way, but an average is always misleading. Diamond and Darkrose dragged the score down since there were only five stories total. But I enjoyed the majority of them. I am interested to see where the human/dragon subplot goes in the final installment; I assume Irian will show up at some point? We’ll see.

#taylor reads #8/10 #2021 reading challenge #almost done with this series!

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