#but its funny how unexpectedly not unexpected it is

[therookandtherokh]

[horus-unofficial]

hello hello welcome welcome. welcome 2 the HORUS guide 4 HORUS tech aka horus-unofficial.tumblr3.un gives you extremely comprehensive and very useful insight into its "pattern groups" and "licenses". we are your host harold HORUS here today to talk to you about our beautiful darling cunt of a child, the LICH

nobody knows how the lich came 2 be. some buddies of ours say they invented it 9989 years from now which is weird bcos anyone normal would wait another decade before sending that shit back in time to hit that sweet 9999 and keep people guessing as to whether these files actually are from that far in the future, or if the lucky terminal receiving this code just stopped bothering to count the years after 15015u. either way, the lich is here now, and back then, and most certainly at some point in the future, and it kinda looks like we probably did invent it so that means we are in the clear to act like we're the ones who made it!

the lich sucks! its terrible! with glass bones and paper skin and a reactor that overheats at room temperature, a gust of wind could leave a dent in this PG's plating, which is made from samples of styrofoam and bubble wrap warped straight from the insides of pre-Fall packages labeled "FRAGILE, HANDLE WITH CARE" (a perfect bumper sticker for your lich, should you find yourself piloting one sometime within the next -50 to 250 years). you can tell no former members of harrison armory's R&D department were involved in the designing of the lich because the only thing those fuckers know how to do is create industrial microwaves, and the lich's reactor is the most slipshod, poorly-coded shit in the known universe. the only code regulating the lich's reactor is "reactor = cool" and not only are neither "reactor" nor "cool" defined anywhere in the system code, but HOR_OS doesn't even use = signs.

you may ask us, "if the lich is so shit, why do people pilot it?" and we are so glad you asked! generally speaking, answers to this question fall into one of two variations: - "it's a funny mech" - "why is everyone saying i pilot a lich??? i pilot a nelson!!! what do you mean that's my lich frame in the mech bay and i've had it for years, i literally don't have a single HORUS license, @horus-unofficial please advise"

the lich's victorian orphan-esque constitution aside, its biggest strength as a frame is likely its ability to send itself to the seaside for a much needed mental health break should it encounter the slightest hint of adversity on the battlefield. its no wonder the lich is so frail, the entirety of our nonexistent R&D budget went into making this thing the most annoying roleplayer on the playground. "you hit me with your sword? nuh-uh, i dodge. oh you run me through on your spear, killing me instantly? well it turns out that that body wasn't actually me, i've been dramatically looking down upon this duel from up there on those cliffs the whole time!" <- words most commonly spoken by future lich pilots at 11 years old

this allows it to be unexpectedly versatile in combat- with a refundable get out of jail free card and a maximum speed comparable to most of SSC's catalogue, it can weave through dangerous zones in combat with unexpected efficiency, allowing it to support allies from virtually any range, and instigate the occasional skirmish if its pilot is so inclined. we dont necessarily advise that you choose violence as a lich pilot, only that its a more viable choice of function than you might initially think

the lich plays with the timestream with the same enthusiasm as a preschooler in a sandbox, both in regards to itself and anything (un)fortunate enough to be within its sensor range. for every timeline where the lich is playing support for its allies and being so kind and niceys, there's another timeline where it gleefully tears into its adversaries until it overextends and dies respawns in another timeline, and it's through this universal law that an unusually principled lich pilot might find themselves taking a hit for its allies before immediately redeeming that get out of jail free card we mentioned earlier. of course, "principled HORUS pilot" is an oxymoron, so if your squad has a lich pilot what actually happens is more along the lines of being teamed with the biggest fucking nuisance on your planet, who pretends to toodle about the battlefield all combat because the truth is they've been stuck in a time loop for 7 years, and are well beyond the point of caring.

bottom line: if you encounter a lich in combat, dont even bother targeting it. it's unkillable except for when it isn't, and its banned from every omninet roleplay forum in the known universe for a reason

[lieslab]

I am the face of love's rage

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Han Jisung X gn reader

Summary: After snapping at your boyfriend, it feels like the world is spiraling out of control

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.6K

Trigger warning: Grief, anger, child neglect and implied child abuse, domestic abuse, a moment of self-harm, depression, and self-hatred.

_ _ _

It’s just not fair. It’s not fair that you weren’t asked to be born. It’s not fair that you didn’t get to play a role in this. You were forced from the womb against your will; procreated by two people who were in over their heads. You were shoved into this brutal world with nothing. No hope, no love, no faith, nothing. 

Some people have consequences for their actions, but not your parents. Life went on and you grew. You grew up full of envy when it came to your friends. How much you wished you had their parents instead of your own. 

Family movie night seemed like heaven on earth. Being tucked in between your best friend and her mother. Fizzy soda poured and pepperoni pizza shined with grease. It stuck to elementary fingers and you accidentally got it in your hair. 

As you washed it out in the unfamiliar bathroom of your best friend’s house, you found love in unexpected places. The fuzzy oversized bright blue bath towel. The ones back at your house hadn’t been replaced since the early 2000’s. 

It was the way her mother tucked her in and included you. Pressing warm lips in a foreign way against your forehead. She insisted that she loved you, but you didn't know her long. How strange it was for love to float up unexpectedly. 

It came in high school sporting events when the stands sat abandoned. Not really, they were full of cheering parents, but none of them were yours. They were always too busy with work or maybe they were at home swinging verbal assaults at one another. 

Even when you graduated, you scanned the crowd hoping that by some miracle, they’d finally show up, but they didn’t. The cheers from the crowd and shrieks from your friends fell upon deaf ears. How wonderful it was to be created and getting nothing in return. 

Maybe parents don’t owe you anything besides a roof over your head. The food on your plate. Clothes that will keep you warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Maybe that’s all they’re meant for. 

At least, that’s what they think. Sometimes they never asked for you. You were a mistake and they didn’t think it through. Five minutes of fun suddenly became a future full of responsibilities and we’re all only human in the end, so some of us choose to run. 

You can outrun your past mistakes, but somewhere along the way, they will knot together and tangle. They will leave you suffocated and struggling to breathe. No matter where you go, karma has a funny way of catching up. 

Even if that means waiting to show its face until it snatches your soul from your body. Sometimes the only sense of justice we have in life is that which becomes buried beneath six feet of dirt. It’s not enough to stitch the wound, but enough to temporarily numb the hurt. 

You can raise a child in a plethora of ways. From drilling the growing brain full of political ideology to believing in a damning God. Fairytales and happy endings or demons that will wreck havoc across barren plains. A child can be full of whatever you want them to be. 

Children are a lot like flowers. When given the nutrients and water, when the love is piled high, when mistakes are teaching points instead of crucifixion, you can turn the world into a better place. A kid can go so far, but if you choose the opposite, how does a kid survive as an adult? 

Sometimes self-love isn’t enough. Those positive daily affirmations seem silly when you hate who’s staring back at you in the mirror. There will always be a dark void inside that doubts the love we’re granted. If our parents didn’t love us, then who would? 

It takes a village to raise a kid, but sometimes villages become abandoned. They starve to death, they take off for a better life, they become the people they swore they hated. Things happen and kids become abandoned. 

Physically, emotionally, verbally. A man-made damnation that has much more in common with a rabies filled wolf than anything. Snarling and growling; snapping and charging at anyone who gets too close.

You’re just a wild dog. Please forgive them, they don’t know why they bite. They don’t know why they isolate and self-destruct. They blow a fuse, intertwine themselves with self-pity and hatred, and then fall victim to the vicious cycle again. 

And then it repeats and it repeats and it repeats. 

Friendships shatter like glass that glistens in the flames of fire. Rage builds and words shoot to kill. A ballerina forced to dance on tip-toes while foot skin shreds apart and blood soaks the tips of pointe shoes. 

Sometimes you meet someone who feels soft enough to tame that wild beast. Han Jisung was full of flaws, everyone is. Insecurities sat between the heart and chest cavity, but he gave you a chance. He gave you a chance and you ruined it. 

Hands slammed into your skull as if that’d fix it. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Your head throbbed and a headache formed, but you couldn’t stop. You deserved the punishment, at least, that’s what you thought. 

Some people aren’t born with the art of self-regulation. Some don’t know how to stop until it’s too late. You were angry and upset and a fuse was blown. You blew up, skyrocketed, and you didn’t stop the shrapnel of sharp words that flew from your mouth. 

They echoed in your head over and over again. You screamed until your voice gave out and you choked on your own frustration. You begged him to go away, chucked a book at his head in the process. 

Tears flooded his eyes, but he refused to budge. It killed you, you hated that look. With a quivering bottom lip, he spoke the soft words that wouldn’t leave your head. 

“I’m not going to leave you because I love you. So throw what you must. Scream at me until your lungs deflate, damn me to hell, I don’t care. I will love you until I’m old and gray. I will love you until the stars burn out and even then, I’ll find a way.” 

A gentle softness against the shrieks in your head. A hand wiped away your tears, after he took the risk and shuffled towards you. You shoved it away and slammed the bedroom door in his face. 

It was something so childish, so stupid, something that your parents used to do to you. You remembered what it was like when that gust of sudden wind hit you. It was a reminder that love was meant to be earned, not freely given. 

You didn’t deserve his love, his support, his softness. You didn’t deserve Han Jisung and you knew that, but why the fuck did he not know that? He was a thorn in your side and you hated him. 

You hated him because you loved him. You knew you were awful. You couldn’t control your emotions. You were the rain of an incoming tornado. Too hot, too humid, cold rain, and a chance of sudden hail. 

 A kid without guidance. One that had grown up and found themselves tangled in their mother’s misses. Your father’s regrets were imprinted in your skull and no matter how hard you tried to get through bone to rip out the stitches, they were always there. You could grit your teeth and scream, but you were always going to be a product of your parents. 

When you grow up without everything, it’s hard to figure it out. Self-love can be conflicting. Positivity feels impossible. The past creeps around you like a cobra and strikes when you least expect it. 

A victim. 

A survivor. 

A monster. 

An abuser. 

The words spun around in a cyclone and became tangled. Did you blame your parents for this mess or would you blame yourself? You could have been better, they should have made you better, but you were grown. 

Tears stung your eyes and everything swelled. It compacted into a lump in the back of your throat. It sat there and wouldn’t move. No matter how many times you tried to swallow, it wouldn’t go away. 

So you collapsed against the side of the bedroom door, just like Han knew you would. He was pressed against it from the other side. He listened to you silently as you spun out of control. Tears slipped down his cheeks, but he didn’t intervene. 

Your ragged breaths caused him to shut his eyes. He worried about you far more than you’d ever know. He cared too much and he’d never stop. He meant what he told you, he meant it with every fiber of his being. 

Snot strung from your nose and slipped down your upper lip. It tasted like defeat and failure. You squeezed your eyes shut and a whimper slipped out. 

Han couldn’t reach you through the door. As much as he wanted to grab you and smother you with love, you wouldn’t allow it. You had to take time to calm down. You had to figure yourself out. 

In the meantime, he’d be here singing softly. One of his songs that he wrote years ago. A sweet voice murmuring a symphony while your entire being crumbled behind the door. A lullaby to soothe your tired and weary soul. 

If only years ago, it would have been coming from the larynx of your mother instead.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

[snapghoul]

Why do I see Bradley find a piano at a random bar in Oklahoma and starting to sing great balls of fire

Like how would the wranglers react to this man singing 

I laughed at love ‘cause I thought it was funny

Where there’s a piano, there’s Bradley Bradshaw.

Note: this is more Sereshaw than the reactions of the wranglers. But I love using Great Balls of Fire as a reference to Jake and Bradley, I think the songs fits them. And Bradley always has the power to make a crowd go wild with just one song, no matter what state or country he’s in.

Warnings: sickeningly sweet

Song: Great Balls of Fire by Miles Teller

Bradley was finding an unexpected affinity for the country life. The serene charm of the countryside, when it wasn’t being ravaged by storms, had a way of subtly working its way into his heart. He had even been convinced to start wearing flannel button-ups, much to Tyler and Jake’s amusement, who never missed an opportunity to tease him about his beloved 80s Hawaiian shirts. At least his dad would approve of his style.

The bar was unexpectedly crowded, filled with a diverse mix of patrons. Bradley was relieved he wasn’t clad in one of his flashy blue and pink shirts, as he already stood out enough.

He was only half-listening to Tyler and Jake’s discussion at the table, his attention drifting as he absentmindedly nibbled on peanuts. The conversation was animated and centered around the idea of starting a YouTube channel.

“Ty, we’re an elite special squadron. There’s no way Cyclone would let us start a channel,” Jake argued.

“Come on, Jake! Think about it! If we had some great footage, it could be epic! People would love to see what it’s like inside a jet!” Tyler countered, enthusiasm in his voice.

“Yeah, but the cockpits are cramped enough without shoving a camera in there,” Jake replied, shaking his head.

Bradley’s gaze was suddenly drawn to a piano in the corner of the bar. Instantly, his mood brightened. Without a word, he slipped away from the table, his steps light and purposeful as he headed towards the instrument.

“Right, Roo—” Jake began, turning to his side, only to find Bradley had vanished.“Bradley?”

The group glanced around, surprised by the sudden absence of someone as noticeable as Rooster.

Jake’s eyes quickly found him; Bradley was already perched on the piano bench, methodically dusting off the keys.

“Is he?” Tyler leaned forward, trying to peer around a man who was obstructing his view.

Jake’s face lit up as the familiar, vibrant notes of a piano warm-up began to fill the air. “Yup,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.

Jake slipped away from the table, weaving through the crowd that had grown quieter with the sound of the piano. He approached Bradley, who was seated at the piano with his sunglasses perched on his nose and his sleeves rolled up.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually going to—” Jake started, incredulous.

Bradley shot him a cocky grin, his fingers poised over the keys. “Every crowd is a Jerry Lee Lewis crowd,” he replied confidently.

Jake glanced around the bar, taking in the puzzled but intrigued faces of the patrons. “I don’t think this is a Jerry Lee Lewis crowd,” he said, motioning to the mix of people around them.

Bradley’s smile widened as he began to play. “Trust me,” he said, his fingers striking the keys with a spirited energy. “They’re about to find out what kind of crowd they really are.”

“Bradley—” Jake began, but his words were drowned out by the raucous piano music.

‘You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain,’

Bradley sang with enthusiasm, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the bar. His fingers danced across the keys with remarkable precision.

Jake couldn’t help but laugh as the crowd began to react, some patrons clapping along and others even getting up to dance. The bar’s atmosphere shifted from casual chatter to lively excitement.

Jake’s gaze met his brother’s, who was watching with wide eyes, the wranglers caught off guard by Bradley’s sudden burst of flare. He had been nothing quiet and reserved for the last few days.

‘But you came along and you moved me, honey.’

Jake felt a nudge as Bradley elbowed him in the hip, snapping him back to the performance. Bradley tilted his head playfully, and Jake responded with a broad grin. Leaning in, he let out an enthusiastic yip.

‘I changed my mind, this love is fine.’

The two of them leaned into each other, their heads close as they shouted the lyrics together, their voices blending with the pounding rhythm of the piano.

“Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!”

Jake was so captivated by Bradley’s presence that he barely noticed the crowd around them. The entire bar was swept up in the moment, their voices merging into a unified chorus of exuberance.

‘You’re fine, you’re so kind,’

Bradley and Jake moved closer, their energy infectious as they sang. Jake practically hung off Bradley, both of them swaying and bobbing their heads with the rhythm.

‘I’ma tell the world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine.’

The wranglers discovered three things that night as they watched Bradley come alive at the piano. First, he could sing—and he did it remarkably well. Second, his callsign, Rooster, had more layers than they’d initially realized. And third, it was unmistakably clear that those two was hopelessly in love with each other.

Bonus:

Tyler stood in stunned silence, his mouth agape as he watched the scene unfold. While the other wranglers were lost in the music, singing and dancing along, Tyler was frozen in place.

Jake, who had always been reserved and never sang in front of a crowd, was now pouring his heart out in a public display he’d never thought possible. Tyler was struck by the realization that Jake had clearly fallen harder than he had ever seen before. His brother, typically so guarded about his emotions and sexuality, was now openly expressing his feelings, clinging to Rooster and singing a love song with an intensity that left Tyler in awe.

“Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!”

[justimajin]

The Language of Flowers

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

↳ 9.5k / Hanahaki AU

⇨ Hanahaki (pre-existing concept): a fictional disease in which an individual will cough up flowers after experiencing unrequited love.

Warnings: heavy angst, discussions of illness/surgery, implied smut (on the explicit end)

Love is funny. 

It blossoms unexpectedly, spontaneously conjuring up within seconds. A spur of the moment, which draws in budding affection. Love at first sight, that flourishes into sparks of tender electricity. Or simply an unexpected encounter, getting spun into something more meaningful. 

It develops, it grows. It becomes so much more as the handles of time spiral, adoration and devotion thrown into the mix and creating everlasting bliss. 

Until of course, it becomes long term, its longevity and commitment spanning an entire lifetime.

You glance around, pupils revolving around the blooming garden. There are long tables lined into rows, draped with lilac silk material and decorated with bright yellow flowers. Amongst them, an array of individuals are seated, chattering with one another. 

You find her closer to the fencing, where fairy lights are looped and a giant white board stands, the word ‘Engaged’ written in bold cursive purple. 

“Aera.” She turns around, dressed in a short white lace dress with a small tiara resting on her black hair, making her appear like a princess. Her eyes are wide, having been in mid-conversation before she heard your voice call out to her.

Her lips tug into a huge smile upon seeing your tender look, moving forward to envelop you into a hug. “Y/N!” 

You hug her back, “Thank you so much for coming. It wouldn’t have been possible without you.” 

“Don’t say that.” You sheepishly chuckle, but she presses on. 

“Oh, come on, you’re the one that introduced me to him.” 

You dismiss her, “I just introduced you two, you were the one to take it a step further.” 

Taking a step back, you gesture to the entire display of the white board and a bubbly laugh emerges from her. 

“Let me at least give you some credit.” 

“Fine, maybe I helped a little.” You retort and she grins at your acceptance. 

A low voice cuts through your conversation. 

“I moved the balloons like you wanted, the decorator said–”

A young man appearing to be within his twenties emerges, donning a white dress shirt with a black tie and pants. His dark hair is styled and parted back, brows furrowed and doe eyes swirling with focus. 

It doesn’t take you a second later to whisper his name. 

“Jungkook?” 

He halts his steps, frozen by the sound of his name. Head snapping up, recognition flows through his orbs. 

Within a heartbeat, he shutters out. “Y-Y/N?” 

Aera darts her eyes between both of you, taken aback with the familiarity with a frown.

“Do the two of you know each other?” 

“Ah– yes,” You quickly clarify, “We work together.”

“Yeah, we do.” He replies, scratching the back of his neck. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here…” 

“Well, I am friends with the bride.” You chuckle.

Aera pitches in, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “And she introduced me to Sunoo, Kookie!” 

He stiffens. “I see…”

“How do the two of you know each other?” You ponder, surprised by their proximity. If anything, you at least knew that Jungkook was greatly distant at work, never really going out of his way to speak to anyone. 

Aera warmly smiles, looping her arm around Jungkook’s, “Let me reintroduce you to the Jeon Jungkook,” She gazes at him with tender eyes, “My childhood friend and the person dearest to my heart…“ 

Pausing, she adds in, “–after Sunoo, of course.” 

You nod understandably, but Jungkook lets out a low cough. 

“I-I should go,” He brings up, “See if the decorator needs any more help.” 

You watch as he loops out of her arm, swiftly turning around without another word. 

A pout surfaces on Aera’s lips, like she wanted him to stay longer with you. 

But then she turns and catches your intrigued gaze, orbs brightening up in an instant. She dips into conversation once more as if he never left, occupied with showcasing the giant ring that now sits on her third finger. 

Yet if you had been paying enough attention, you would have noticed the flicker of dread in Jungkook’s eyes. 

***

As you attempt to catch up with Aera, it’s not long before she’s being whisked away by her husband-to-be, who you warmly greet with a smile. 

Being left alone, you decide to head over to one of the side tables, setting down the gift you had bought for them before filtering through all the guests to find your seat. 

Locating an empty one on the same table Aera and Sunoo would be at, you sit down and take a napkin, carefully placing it down onto your lap. 

From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of Jungkook. He glances around, doe eyes frantic and lips pursed. He awkwardly lingers for a moment – like he was debating on being there, unsure of where to look or where to go. 

It’s surprising to you, considering only moments ago he was effortlessly navigating himself to the decorator’s instructions.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing the two of you aren’t particularly close. However, as his confusion spins by the minute, you ultimately decide it wouldn’t be so bad and give in. 

“Jungkook!” You call out, watching his train of vision fall onto you. Taking out a chair next to you, your hand waves over with a warm smile. 

Jungkook glances around one more time, before walking over with his head ducked down. 

Instead of taking the one beside you, he takes the one on the opposite side – the one that is furthest away from Aera. 

You raise a brow, wondering why he didn’t want to sit closer to the bride and of course, his childhood friend, but you freeze when your orbs land on his appearance.

His eyes are glossed over, tinged with red. They almost seem hollow, dark circles collecting underneath them and his shoulders are caved in. 

“Are–…” You quickly glance around, words dropping into a whisper before leaning in, “Are you okay?”

Jungkook’s pupils snap back into life and he furiously nods, shifting uncomfortably away from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay.” He sniffles, voice coming out hoarse. His field of vision lands on the decorations upon the table, features straining with dismay, “I’m just allergic to the flowers.” 

Your own eyes follow his line of sight, falling onto the beautiful, bright yellow petals. In fact, they’re littered everywhere – from the long tables lined up, to the blooming garden, to even attached to the white board that sits in the front. 

“Tulips,” You remark, “Aera’s–” 

“Favorite flower.” He mumbles, pupils focused down on his fidgeting hands and not bothering to take a glance at them. 

An involuntary harsh cough escapes his throat.

You lean over, grabbing a jug full of water and a glass, filling it up. Tapping him on the shoulder, he looks up, fatigue radiating deep within his irises before they morph into surprise. 

He takes the glass hesitantly, muttering a small thank you before you turn your attention back to the front, watching all the guests take their places as the food gets served.

Save for the few occasional glances stemming from concern, you and Jungkook don’t say another word to each other for the rest of the duration.

***

The evening spins away – dinner is all served and more guests pool in. You occasionally smile, greeting new people and munching down on the contents placed in front of you. 

Amongst all this, Aera is attached to Sunoo, a tender smile on her features as they deeply gaze into each other’s eyes and beam with so much sweet affection. 

You grin when she calls for you to take a picture with the two to them, instantly leaving your table and trudging over. Looping your arm with Aera and standing opposite to Sunoo, all three of you smile as the photographer’s flash goes off. 

“You two look really good together.” You comment and Aera giggles, eyes crinkling in the direction of her to-be-husband. 

She leans closer to him, brushing his lips against hers for a kiss. Sunoo follows suit, clasping onto her hands. 

They radiate the to-be-wed glow, encased in their own bubble of infectious love and happiness. It’s joyous for anyone to watch, to see two people be so utterly and completely in love with each other.

At least, that’s what you think.

As you turn to greet another one of Aera’s friends, you catch a flash of movement from the corner of your eyes.

You blink, but then there’s a tap against your shoulder. 

“Y/N,” Aera asks, her head surveying around, “Do you know where Jungkook is?” 

You swivel, mimicking her puzzlement. “I-I’m not sure…” 

“That’s too bad, I wanted to take a picture with him.” Aera remarks and a frown lines your lips. You had just seen Jungkook sitting by the table by himself moments ago, but now he’s up and disappeared, just when the photographer had started taking photos.

You sigh, not understanding his train of thought. 

Turning to Aera, you give her a quick reassured smile. “Focus on Sunoo, I’ll go find him for you.” 

She breaks into a huge relieved grin and nods, returning to her husband’s side. 

Spinning around, you walk in the opposite direction. 

Your head darts back and forth. 

You had entered into the side building, the one adjacent to the garden where the engagement party was being held. It’s empty save for the occasional workers or bystanders you pass, either trying to help set up or busy conversing with one another. However, you don’t find the head of dark hair and pair of doe eyes you’re trying to locate, simply left mulling if he had truly decided to leave. 

That is, until there’s a black tie resting near the soles of your feet. 

You pick it up in suspicion, instantly recognizing it as the same one Jungkook had donned when you had met him prior in the evening.

Peering around while gripping the tie, you wonder why it was so clumsily thrown onto the ground, as if he didn’t care about where it ended up–

The sound of retching startles you. 

You glance around, wondering if you had imagined it. But then you hear it – a low choked sob, and your feet are gyrating, ears keenly picking up on the sound.

Your feet falter for a moment, having stopped right in front of the men’s bathroom. 

Biting down your bottom lip, you cautiously push against the door, darting your pupils around. 

It's completely empty, save for one stall in the far corner.

Your heels click against the ground, turning to face it. Noticing it slightly open, you raise your hand, preparing to knock and ask him if he was okay, if he has perhaps consumed too much alcohol than expected, or if he needed anything – infinite questions ready to tumble out of your lips.

But that’s when you feel a slight flutter against your foot. 

Peering down curiously, you breath hitches and you nearly stumble back. 

For there’s a fragrant and beautiful, bright yellow petal there. 

Hand quivering, you lightly push against the door. 

It opens, and your mouth falls agape at the sight. 

Jungkook is on his knees, hunched over the toilet, completely surrounded by yellow flowers. His eyes are squeezed shut, shudders running through his body and tears pooling into his eyes. Despite being very tall, his frame looks small and cramped, sweat clinging to his temples. 

You thought it was all fake, a disease so rare that it could be considered a myth. But the flowers spilling out from his coughing lips is enough to reel you back into reality, cementing that it was all true – all the puzzling pieces of information stemming from the rumors, all the hushed whispers of unrequited love. 

You were wrong, so utterly wrong. 

Your hands cover your mouth, voice only managing to come out in a shakingly whisper. 

“O-Oh my god….” 

Jungkook heaves as the last flower slips out, finally noticing your presence as his eyes snap back. 

Your widened ones make contact with his half-lidded orbs, which expand into complete horror. 

***

You don’t remember how long it took – how long you merely stood there, glancing at his horror stricken irises with a mix of terror and confusion in your own. You had watched as his eyes diverted away, a deep flush coating his skin as he had leaned back, gripping the edge of the wall for dear support. 

“Tulips.” You had murmured, “Aera’s–”

“Favorite flower.” He croaks, a harsh rasp to his voice. His quivering hands reach out, attempting to scoop up the remaining flowers on the ground. 

His pupils widened when your shaking ones reached out as well, gaze concentrated as you discard them into the toilet can. But he continues, ensuring each and every single petal had been collected before rising to his feet, wobbling a bit as he turns to flush the contents away for good. 

You had quietly trailed out of the bathroom, walking behind his light footsteps.

A moment of silence overtakes you as you reach the opposite side of the building, far from where there are guests celebrating the new engagement. The fresh breeze weaves through your hair, nipping at your skin and offering a change of atmosphere. 

Jungkook seems to like it as well, a content sigh leaving him as opposed to the profuse spilling of flowers inside a cramped stall he was experiencing just moments ago. 

A thousand questions are ready to burst out from you, but amongst them is one that already has an answer.

“I-Is it…” You warily gaze at him, “...Aera?”

Jungkook visibly gulps, fear echoing deep in his doe irises. You’re startled when he snatches onto your wrist, grip tightening as his eyes desperately scan your expression. 

“Please…” He inhales, “Please don’t tell her...” 

You slowly nod, gaze still trained on him as his shoulders slump down, relief flooding his body. 

Your voice drops into a whisper, “H-How long has this been going on…?” 

Jungkook’s lip thin out, and his gaze is on the ground. 

Sucking in a breath, he reveals the answer that has a harsh gasp escaping you. 

“A year.” 

“A year?!” You sharply repeat, “Jungkook, how are you still alive?” 

Your coworker had been quietly suffering the effects for a whole entire year, delving within his own misery and attempting to live a normal life as the disease ate away at him. 

He shakes his head, like he didn’t want your thoughts invading his mind, “Why haven’t you just gotten the surgery?”

“I-I can’t…” He whispers, brows furrowing. 

“Why not?” You press forward, concern filling you to the brim, “The rumors say that hanahaki consumes the individual’s lungs within a year, leading their entire system to shut down–”

“Because I can’t, Y/N.” His words are louder and firmer, but there’s guilt swimming in his orbs. “I…I don’t want to forget her.” 

Your lips pursue, knowing what the rumors had to say about the surgery. That along with all the flowers, each and every memory is taken, ripped out of the patient’s mind until they have no more recollection of the feelings, the love they had once felt for their person.

Which means Jungkook’s only other alternative would be for Aera to reciprocate his feelings. 

Your stomach churns, guilt radiating out from you. 

“She can’t love you back…” You whisper and Jungkook’s eyes snap up, brimming with despair. 

“She’s engaged now, and I…I can't take it all away from her,” He hurriedly explains, voice shrinking down into an anguished whisper, “Not when I love her so much...” 

“But…are you just going to let yourself die?” 

He has no other option. The fonder his heart grows, so do the petals, spreading out within his airway until his breathing is completely constricted. Without the removal surgery or reciprocated feelings, he’s caged – left to fight the disease on his own until he ultimately succumbs to it, drawing out his last breath in the name of the same love.

Jungkook is silent, your words lingering within the empty space between you. 

He continues to remain silent, but then his features twist and something snaps. 

His eyes are glossed over, shoulders hunched as he chokes out a sob. 

You’re startled, but you realize it then and there. 

He knows he’s resigned to his fate and at this point, all he can do is receive the illness that’s marred his pathway with flowers.

You’re not very close to Jungkook, but it doesn’t hold you back from outstretching your arms, hands wrapping around his torso as the tears stream down his eyes, form violently trembling.

Aera’s eyes had sparked up when you returned with Jungkook following suit. You watch with dismay as he places a hand on her shoulder, a weak smile on his lips. Jungkook’s condition is obvious, there’s dark circles underneath his eyes, his skin pale and fatigue running deep in his shoulders. But he continues to pose for the photo, not ignoring Aera’s plea to take more with her husband.

Sunoo stands on the other side of them, sharing Aera’s tender smile when she glances at him. Jungkook’s lip twitches, smile slightly faltering. 

As the evening draws to an end, your gaze is attached to Jungkook’s every movement, watching him turn on his heels and begin to take the various decorations down. All as Aera and Sunoo have their arms wrapped around each other, fondly staring down at the rings on their hands.

A bitter taste lingers on your lips.

It stays for a while – even as you’re knocking on Jungkook’s door the next day. 

To be honest, you’re not sure what you're trying to accomplish. Jungkook and you were merely coworkers, bypassing each other occasionally or conversing through cubicles when work called for it. 

But there’s a piece of you deep inside that can't help but feel awful. Awful that in a way you were the one to resign him to the fate of his disease with your own actions, pointing out to Aera that there was a guy you knew back in your college days together that would be her type, even helping out to get his number for her.

Conversely, even though you weren't aware of Jungkook’s existence in her life, the image of him hunched over, trembling as the flowers endlessly poured around and circled his sobbing form, is hauntingly ingrained inside your mind, a deep chill running through your spine anytime the memory plays. 

The door swings open, revealing a started Jungkook. 

Knowing what you know now, makes it hard to look at him. He still looks exhausted, the deep circles underneath his eyes ever most present and his skin drained of life. You suspect he’s even lost weight from the last handful of times you’ve seen him at work, the disease taking its sweet time to slowly break him down, bit by bit, till his lungs are full and bursting with flowers. 

“W-What are you doing here?” 

You take in a deep breath, “You’re off from work, right? To be here for the wedding.” 

Aera’s wedding is closer to the end of the month, set seven days after the engagement. 

Seven days left until hanahaki runs its full course of a year, the victim falling prey to its effects and their lungs being forever constricted. 

He slowly nods, “I thought we could go out, do something aside from wedding preparations.” 

Jungkook goes silent and you gnaw on your bottom lip. You knew that the wedding plans were still going on, that Aera would need assistance from the two of you, but you know he’s spending all this time helping the very person he loves, without ever getting to be with her.

You wonder if he’ll protest, if he’ll remark that she needs him and that he needs her, that there’s no way he can halt the planning process for his own needs.

But Jungkook heavily exhales, and you wonder if he can see the pity in your eyes. 

“Okay.” He simply utters, much to your surprise. He widens the door, letting you in before swiveling, attempting to look for his jacket. 

You stand rather awkwardly by the front of his apartment, pleasantly surprised to find the black and white layout of the place, with everything appearing meticulously organized. It’s almost too clean, not a speck of dirt in sight. 

However, the layout seems too simplistic, the black and white not contrasting well with the sunlight that tries to pour in, appearing more bleak and empty for your own liking. 

It feels lonely. 

You press your lips together, a grimace running through you. How long has he been quietly suffering by himself, keeping distance from others? The Jungkook you know wouldn’t even attend events or go out for drinks with everyone else post-work, but now he’s submerged within guests everyday and next to the person he loves, suppressing flowers from spewing out.

Jungkook emerges soon, throwing on a black jacket. Stepping outside with you, he lets out a sharp cough, rubbing his throat with a wince.

“Where to?” He ponders, looking at you with his big doe eyes.

You shrug, “Coffee?” 

He nods, and you lead him to the local coffee shop you’ve frequented a couple of times after work, one that’s more closed in and has cozy booths. It isn't popular by any means, only a few individuals occupying the seats, but it’s something you notice Jungkook relishes in from the corner of your eyes, form visibly easing from the low amount of prying looks. 

You order your drinks, asking Jungkook what he wanted and he simply murmurs that anything was okay. Within minutes, two lattes are handed to you and you join him by the booth he’s seated at, a deep frown marring your lips.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, and you wince, pushing the drink closer to him. 

“Sorry…I didn’t realize this cafe also did coffee art.” 

Jungkook's eyes are wide as the drink comes in front of him, a foamy little white heart greeting his line of vision.

The corner of his mouth curls up. 

“It’s okay.” He remarks, “I think it’s rather cute.” 

You look at him in surprise, but he’s already bringing the drink up to his lips, cautiously taking a sip from the heated mixture.

The words blurt out before you can stop them.

“I’m really sorry.” 

He halts, placing the drink down. “Y/N, I said it was okay–”

“No, not that.” You harshly swallow, “I-I’m sorry…about Aera…” 

He stares at you perplexed and you explain, “I was the one to bring her and Sunoo together. I knew both of them and thought they would work well as a couple.” 

Your eyes flutter shut, biting down on your lip, “If only I had known about your relationship with her, I could have–”

“Y/N.” He stops your train of thought, hand brushing against yours. You immediately stare down at it, and he notices, sheepishly removing it in an instant as his complexion dusts pink. 

He clears his throat, “Don’t apologize. Me and Aera…we were never meant to be, even if you stepped in.” 

You stare at him, “We were friends for years…and even as I came to realize my feelings recently, Aera never once felt the same for me, no matter what I did.” He chuckles bitterly, “I was always Jungkook, her childhood friend, and nothing more.” 

Anguish spreads over his features and your heart sinks. You can imagine a younger Jungkook, gaze filled with adoration and affection for the girl, desperately seeking for something, anything to be similarly reflected in her own eyes. 

Remorse flickers over you, “But I can imagine Sunoo’s sudden appearance wasn’t all that great for you...” 

Jungkook’s gaze falls down, a soft yet wistful smile on his lips. “It confirmed a lot for me, mainly that this disease was going to turn out to be more permanent than I had initially assumed.” 

You bite back your words, wanting to tell him that it isn’t just permanent, that the disease would reside with him until he finally succumbs to it. 

But you can’t bring yourself to, not when there’s so much hurt swirling in his eyes, the disease already physically manifesting itself against his own wishes.

At his silence, you sit up straighter, desperate to change the topic of conversation you had to spring up.

“What do you do outside of work?” You question, “Do you have any hobbies or anything?” 

Anything you do to cope? – you can only silently wonder. 

Your questions catches him off guard. “Not really…” He deeply ponders, “At the most, I’ve been just working…and of course, helping Aera when I had time off.” 

You nod, features twisting. But then his eyes light up.

“Sometimes I like to game.” 

“Game?” You blink and he slowly nods, sipping down on his latte. “I could have never taken you for a gamer.” 

Something you wouldn’t have expected from the quiet man who would bump shoulders with you at work. 

“It’s fun, I like playing games online.” He states, “It helps not having to worry about…” 

His face sours as he gestures to himself and you quickly nod, not wanting him the chance to fill in the blanks. 

“Maybe you could show me sometime.” You suggest, and he looks at you surprised. To be fair, you don’t know the first thing about online gaming, but watching Jungkook’s expression change, having some spark of joy, is too much for you to miss out on.

A soft smile lines his lips. “Sure.”

You mimic his smile, bringing the remains of the latte to your lips.

Aera is to be married soon, Jungkook knows that. 

As such, he’s aware that moments with her are consistent, that she gazes into his eyes with a wide smile regularly, making his heart skip far too many beats. 

But what he is pleasantly unaware of is just how involved you are, unabashedly seeking him out when you need assistance with picking up favors for the wedding. 

“There should be at least a hundred candles wrapped with thank you notes,” You mumble, brows furrowed together as you read the text off your phone. The sun is bright and shining down, a light breeze lingering in the air that truthfully makes his chest feel lighter. 

You glance up, confused eyes connecting with his wide ones. “I can’t open them to check, right?” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t think so.” 

“But then how do I know they made them properly?” You gesture towards the box resting before his feet in exasperation. 

Letting out a huff, you shake your head. “I swear, this whole wedding business is so much more complicated than it really needs to be.” 

A light chuckle resonates through the air and you stare at Jungkook in astonishment, watching at how the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

“Believe me, I know.” He chides, leaning down to pick up the box. “I’ve been helping to plan this wedding for months.” 

“For months?” You question in puzzlement, reaching out to help him balance it. However, he pushes your hands away, gesturing for you to let him carry it. 

You frown, but oblige when he starts to walk. “That must have been so stressful. I’ve been only helping out for the last couple of weeks and it’s already making me want to rip my hair out.”

The corners of his lips tugs up and you continue, the words escaping you before you can stop. “Why would you go to such lengths?” 

You freeze in an instant, already knowing the reason as to why.

“–Sorry,” You quickly retract, “I-I didn’t mean it like that…”

Jungkook shakes his head, almost feeling something akin to amusement. 

His condition is supposed to be a secret, a taboo of a disease and something he’s never uttered a single word to another soul. He supposes that you’re different, that you weren’t someone he told out of his own volition, but rather someone that stumbled upon it. 

Which gives him no reason to hide from you. That, and the fact that you’re so mindful about his potential reactions. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He simply says, but picks up on the curiosity swirling within your orbs. 

“If I can ask…how difficult has it been? Planning all this and dealing with…” 

You wave your finger into the air, letting the sentence complete itself and it makes him want to smile. 

“It’s kind of hard to explain…” He murmurs, falling deep into thought, “I know Aera doesn’t love me, but I still want to see her happy, you know?” 

A low chuckle leaves him, gaze downcasting. “I guess that makes me sound really stupid.” 

“No, not at all.” You justify, “You’re right, it’s hard to explain and even harder for someone like me to understand, but you’ve known Aera for so long, and I can imagine that you care a lot about her…” 

 – and that your love runs deeper than you probably would have imagined – you silently think. 

He hums, glancing around as you cross the street together, your eyes focusing onto his backside. 

After a moment of contemplation, you speak up.

“You know, I really hope I’m not causing you any trouble.” You explain, “I know talking about it can be–” 

“It’s okay.” He replies, “I don’t mind, you’re…really easy to talk to.

You’re surprised by the soft smile he holds while glancing in your direction, but it’s one that you don’t hesitate to return.

A bright yellow flower lands right in front of your face. 

You and Jungkook both jolt, the elderly woman in front of you holding a wide grin. It’s only then you realize that you’re near a boutique, selling flowers to those passing by.

“These beautiful tulips are fresh,” She states, attempting to play matchmaker as both you and Jungkook flush, “It’s said they represent unconditional love.” 

You blink, the scent of the flowers being shoved right into your faces. Jungkook stills, holding in his breath as his form slightly trembles.

You clear your throat immediately, pushing them away. 

“We’re okay.” You take a step back, “I’m allergic to flowers.” 

She grimaces, realization donning upon her that neither of you meant business. You don’t think twice, grabbing Jungkook's wrist and whisking him away from the deeply fragrant area.

It’s only when you walk a good handful of steps away that Jungkook tugs on you, a sheepish look on his features that has your confused eyes widening.

You let go of him, “Sorry.” 

He softly shakes his head. “It’s okay.” 

His head turns, gaze concentrated on the store from a distance. 

The next question leaving his lips has you taken aback, “What’s your favorite flower, Y/N?” 

You deeply mull over it, drawing a blank. “I-I can’t say I have one….” 

He ponders over it and your eyes flicker over to him, “What about you?” 

“Ah–” He lightly laughs, scratching the back of his neck. Your eyes widen when he places the box down and takes hold of his sleeve, rolling it back a few inches.

An array of images greet you immediately, but among them is a giant orangish-red flower carved into his forearm. 

“It’s my birth flower.” He informs. 

You stare at it in pure awe and wonder, the ink swirling his skin beautifully. 

Your voice comes out in a whisper, “What is it called?” 

“The tiger flower.” 

You hum, still looking at it in fascination. “Wow…it’s amazing.” 

Jungkook silently watches, oddly feeling exposed for suddenly revealing an important piece of himself to you. But as he notices your irises brightening and lips curving up, he can’t help but warmly smile, his chest swelling with pride underneath your observations.

Ending up at Jungkook’s apartment becomes a staple for you. 

You don’t know how or when, but through figuring out the delivery for the cake to ensuring you had enough tables for the RSVP'd guests, your messages to Jungkook would occasionally stray over to pondering over how he was doing. His responses always ended in simple reassurances, much to your own dismay, but then he would stray too, bringing up that if you ever felt like coming over again, you could. 

At first, you didn’t want to be rude by declining, but then it became to the point where Jungkook expects you, swinging open to his door non-chantlently.

“Did you eat yet?” 

Entering inside, you shake your head and he turns, heading into his kitchen. You glance around, ultimately deciding to sit on his couch. 

There’s a table right next to it, a handful of picture frames that have your heart twisting. 

They stand out in the midst of his bleak apartment, having an odd touch of hearth to them. There’s different age ranges – roughly around ages nine, twelve, fifteen – all of Aera and Jungkook together. There’s ones of them as small children, bright eyed with huge smiles, to ones where they’re a bit older, smiles turning warm and eyes tender. You muse at how adorable Jungkook looked when he was younger, a light to his crinkled eyes that you don’t really see much anymore.

His footsteps pad into the room, two bowls of instant ramen in his hands. You swivel around and his eyes catch the movement, but if anything he’s learned, it’s that you’re naturally very curious, surprise not even crossing him.

“We can go to my room,” He gestures to the doorway across the hall, “I already have my computer set up.” 

You frown, rising from your seat and following behind him. The room is dark, all the lights turned off save for some sunlight peeking through his black drapes, and you’re astonished to find his room just as organized as the rest of his apartment. 

Off to the side, there’s a bright lit screen alongside a keyboard that glows different colors. 

“Woah.” You mutter and Jungkook hands you your instant ramen, before sitting on the large gaming chair and pulling a seat up for you.

You slurp on your noodles as the game loads. Once it does, his hand revolves around the settings for a moment before he dives into action, his fingertips tapping at an incredible speed across the keyboard and mouse furiously clicking. He seems completely zoned into the game, almost like he had forgotten where he was for a moment.

Nonetheless, you watch with wide eyes as he effortlessly wins the first round, hands coming around to search for his own ramen. He continues to keep playing, pupils never once leaving the monitor and you’re fascinated with how well he’s able to multitask. 

His eyes connect with yours, a grin surfacing on his lips. “Want to try?” 

Unease fills you, “I don’t know, I’m not the greatest with games–”

“You’ll be fine.” He insists and you nervously nod, giving into his wishes. He gently guides your hand over the mouse, watching you attempting to shoot things with terrible coordination. 

It’s when you accidentally shoot someone that was trying to heal you that Jungkook bursts into laughter, a beautiful melodious tone that echoes off the walls. 

“I told you I’m terrible!” You protest with a pout, and his laughter still bubbles as he moves behind you. 

“Here, let me show you.” His hand laces over yours, effortlessly navigating your character. 

You smile at the assistance, watching him cross all the hurdles and play infinitely better in comparison. 

You turn to remark about it, but the words die in your throat. 

His face is inches away from you, something he notices right away too. Neither of you move, the sounds coming from the game lingering in the background.

Jungkook shifts and you instantly move, your hand hitting your container of noodles. 

It spills onto the ground and you immediately get up, clearing your throat.

“I-I’ll go get something to clean it up.” Jungkook simply nods, watching your backside disappear. 

You head straight into his kitchen, pressing a hand against your racing heart. Deeply inhaling and exhaling, you glance around for a cloth, locating it on the edge of the counter immediately and turning back. 

The doorbell rings. 

You blink, hearing the loud sounds of the game coming from Jungkook’s room and wondering if you had imagined it. But then it rings again and you scramble forward, grasping onto the knob.

The sight before you shock you to your core. 

Aera stands in front of you, arms crossed and her orbs tinged with cracks of red. They widen at the appearance of you, the shock scattering over her features reflecting your own. 

“Y/N?” 

“Aera?” You blurt out, wondering what she was doing here. 

Her grand wedding is supposed to be in three days, and here she was. 

Jungkook’s voice cuts through, “Y/N? Is everything oka–” 

You hear his footsteps pad through the apartment before his breath hitches. Aera steps right in at the sight of him, walking straight past you and throwing her arms around his torso. 

She sobs loudly and Jungkook’s pupils quiver, making direct eye contact with your confused ones, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her. 

There’s a painful tinge in the center of your chest, but you ignore it. 

“S-Sunoo–” Aera sputters out, clutching onto Jungkook tighter. “S-Sunoo and I….we had a fight!”

Jungkook can barely muster out any words, harshly swallowing. Your eyes widen at the reaction, and it’s not long before a cough leaves his lips. 

You step forward, placing your hand on her back. “Aera, how about we take this outside?” 

Her head tilts, like she had just noticed you’re also in the room. 

At her silence, you slowly peel her hands off of Jungkook, who quickly scurries away into the confines of his room.

Aera’s taken aback with response, but nonetheless follows you like a lost puppy.

The moment you’re outside the apartment, she spills. “We ended up fighting, Y/N! Can you imagine?!”

She sobs more, eyes connecting with the door behind you. 

“Why won’t Jungkook come out?” 

“He’s…not feeling the best.” You wince, unable to come up with a better answer. “You know, you should check in on him every now and then.” 

Images of the splattered flowers echo through your mind. 

“What’s there to check?” She chuckles, sniffling and wiping her tears, “Jungkook’s always fine.”

Your chest tightens, something unfamiliar brewing. 

“No one’s ever always fine.” You grit. 

Even if his symptoms weren’t so painfully obvious, there was no way to simply dismiss it all as something mere like work fatigue. 

Aera eyes you, baffled by your tone, “Since when have the two of you gotten close?” 

You open your mouth a couple of times – unable to muster the exact words for an answer. However, you relent, shaking it away and opting to ask her about Sunoo instead, to which she gladly focuses on. 

***

You spend a considerable amount of time coaxing Aera that Sunoo still loved her and that being stressed about wedding planning was completely normal. 

She cries continuously and you pat her back, sprouting as much reassurance as you can all while bypassing any of her further inquiries about Jungkook. It seems to help, because soon she’s nodding in agreement as the tears within her eyes begin to dry. 

She departs and you manage to head back into the apartment, exhausted beyond belief. 

But Jungkook lingers in your mind. 

You bolt into his room, heading directly into the connecting bathroom. The door whips open, and your heart clenches at the sight before you.

There’s bright yellow tulips. Everywhere. And Jungkook is in the middle of them, form slouched against the wall with his eyes squeezed shut and sweat sticking to his temples. 

You immediately crouch down, placing his weak arm around your neck and helping him to his feet. When he sways, you let him lean his weight against you. 

Sitting him down onto his bed, you withdraw into the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. Reentering the bedroom, his gaze is downcasted and you silently hand him the drink, watching his fingertips curl around the cup. 

You then walk back into the bathroom, taking every piece of petal that’s been scattered and throwing it into the toilet can. You flush it down the drain as Jungkook sips on the water, quietly watching you from afar. 

You sit down next to him with a deep sigh, silence overtaking the dark room. 

A shuddering breath leaves him. 

“I started to forget…” He croaks, grasping your attention immediately, “I actually managed to forget about everything for once. The engagement, the wedding, her…” 

You remorsefully watch as his eyes flutter shut, noticing the single tear that rolls down his cheek. It propels you to shift forward, wrapping your arms around him comfortingly. 

He leans into your touch, head resting on your shoulder and his arm curling around your waist. 

There’s a thought that lingers in the back of your mind, seemingly growing louder and louder with every passing minute. 

“You know…” He lets out a low hum and you continue, willing all your courage together. “I ended up thinking about a third alternative in curing you.” 

Within a heartbeat, he mumbles – “What was it?” 

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you let it out. 

“For you to fall in love…with someone else.” 

His breath hitches, form stiffening underneath your fingertips. You part from him and he slowly raises his head, staring at you impassively. 

You fidget underneath his gaze, unable to read his thoughts. 

After what feels like an eternity, you slowly pull yourself away from him. It was wrong of you to bring it up and you want to curse yourself for thinking otherwise. 

Shuffling your feet, you stand up. 

Jungkook’s hand clasps onto yours, tugging you towards him in an instant. Your eyes morph with surprise, but then his lips collide with yours. 

It steals your breath away, warmth flooding through you and making you melt at his touch. He tentatively moves against you, lips softly brushing against your own. 

He pulls back for a split second, chest rising and falling. But you lean forward, pressing your lips against his once again. 

And that’s all it takes to drown. 

Jungkook litters kisses all down your jaw and neck, and you find yourself stumbling backwards, back hitting his mattress. It’s only a matter of a few moments before his torso is hovering over you, and you reach up, clutching onto his shoulders. 

Your clothes scatter across the room and Jungkook’s bare chest presses against you. He marks your skin in the shape of his lips, all while his name profusely tumbles out of your own. He pushes into you, gently at first, like he has something to prove. You accept him fully, nails sinking into his back as you both climax, an onslaught of gasps and moans escaping the two of you. 

His arm wraps securely around your waist, and you're lulled into a deep sleep.

You’re woken to the sound of retching.

A gasp parts from your lips, and you immediately scramble up from the bed, dressed in only the shirt Jungkook had been wearing the night before. You stumble into the bathroom, finding Jungkook hunched over and surrounded with the yellow flowers once again. 

However, your breath hitches. 

Because this time there’s more of them, and they're all splattered with drops of scarlet.

“Jungkook!” You exclaim, knees buckling down. Placing your hand on his shaking back, you rub it up and down comfortingly. 

“I-I was starting to feel b-better…” He chokes out in defeat, hands clutching onto the toilet. A cluster of coughs leave him, his voice disappearing as more and more red stained flowers overflow out.

You attempt to coax him, features twisted from watching him be contorted in so much pain. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” Your hold on him is firm, “We’ll figure it out, don’t worry, we’ll–” 

“Y-You don’t understand….” He cries out, "I-I can't, Y/N…."

A deep furrow in your brows form and Jungkook shakes his head, eyes shut as his forehead lulls down, “I-I can’t do this anymore….I-I’m still in love with her."

It feels like someone’s just stabbed you in the heart.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you, entangled in too much shame and agony to dare raise his head and say the same words with your eyes meeting his. The same pair of eyes that discovered him one day and reached out, not letting him stumble on his own anymore.

Orbs glossing over, you rise with shaky legs. The feeling in the pit of your chest twists and knots, spreading through you like a deep ache. 

Jungkook can’t say anything, not even at the sound of you grabbing your clothes, the unevenness of your footsteps against his carpet, or the door shutting on your way out from his apartment, the frequency echoing off the walls. His gaze remains fixated on the flowers, even plucking one completely smeared in red, wondering why fate was always so cruel to him – why, in his mind when he’s smiling and laughing with you, Aera’s warm eyes and big smile show up there instead, forever imprinted into his brain.

***

You stagger on your way home. 

A stream of hot tears roll down your face, with harsh breaths shuddering out of you. Your sobs are thundering and violent, racking through your entire form. 

There’s a thousand emotions running through you, leaving your mind completely numb and your body feeling like it’s breaking, scattering into pieces. You wonder how you could have let it gotten to this point, wonder how you could have been so foolish. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you soon arrive at your apartment complex. You can barely unlock the front door, gasping as you stumble in. 

You fall right at the entrance, clawing your hands around your throat, eyes rapidly darting and flickering everywhere. The pain accelerates, winding tortuously over and over around your windpipe. 

The cord snaps. 

A sharp chain of coughs leaves your lips, vibrating down your throat and through your lungs. It morphs into a retch and the contents come spilling forth before you can even blink. 

Deeply heaving, you can only stare helplessly at the clutter of bright orangish-red tiger flowers before you. 

Love is twisted. 

It threatens to find you unexpectedly, spontaneously making you crumble within seconds. It’s a spur of the moment, welcoming in painful affection. Love at first sight, that withers into petals of grief. Or simply an unexpected encounter, getting spun into something that turns your entire world upside down. 

It develops, it grows. It becomes so much more, rendering you weak and constricting your breathing, just as the mere thought of it makes you feel sick. 

Until of course, it becomes long term, a trail of flowers never leaving your side. 

You don’t see Jungkook for the remaining days until the wedding, avoiding him like the plague. He doesn’t reach out, keeping to himself like he’s always done. 

However, running into him at the wedding now, is a completely different story. 

He’s dressed in a sleek fitted black suit, his hair styled and pushed back. He’s working alongside the caterer, a crease in between his brows as he ensures the food arrives in a timely manner. 

You had just entered the venue, eyes scanning around for any indication of where Aera might be. 

As cruel as fate would be, your eyes suddenly find his. 

You attempt to look away, but it only takes three steps for Jungkook to be right in front of you. 

He looks the same, his skin pale and dark circles still underneath his eyes, tiredness running deep through him. 

He opens and closes his mouth several times, before quietly asking a question that has you nearly coughing. 

“Are…are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Your voice comes out croaked, immediately taking a step back from him. He catches the movement and you notice it right away – the way his eyes scan all over your face.

You wonder if he can see the fatigue in your shoulders, wonder if he can see the bags starting to form under your eyes, or how pale you seem to have gotten. Wonder if he knows you were throwing up just this morning, mind swirling with thoughts of him and lungs brimming with flowers, unable to loosen the imprint he’s left.

“Are you sure? I–” He reaches out and you flinch, but then a call of your name has you spinning around. 

“Aera has been looking for you two.” A woman you instantly recognize as her mother, informs. You nod, ignoring the pleading look in Jungkook’s eyes that just makes your lungs constrict.

After all, you were here for someone else entirely. 

But when you and Jungkook follow her into a side room to see Aera completely decked out in a lavious white wedding dress, you can only harshly swallow. 

“Y-You look amazing.” You sputter out, and she has a huge, radiant smile. 

“Isn’t it lovely?” She chuckles, “I can’t wait until you get married and wear one too, Y/N!” 

You know she means well, but your lips are pursued together, not a single word slipping out as you numbingly nod. 

She turns to Jungkook, her smile widening, “What do you think, Kookie?” 

It catches Jungkook off guard, his gaze previously on you.

A small smile laces on his lips and he answers her genuinely. 

“It’s lovely on you, Aera. You look very beautiful.” 

She giggles, looping her arm around his. 

But you can see everything. 

Jungkook’s eyes are tender and warm, fondness radiating out from every fiber of his body. He holds her gently, as if treasuring her was his uttermost priority. 

Your breath hitches, a wave of nausea hitting you. There’s nothing you can mutter except a quiet ‘excuse me’ as you’re racing out of the room, hand clamping against your mouth and feet hurriedly filtering through the venue. 

You don’t even find a bathroom, yanking open the door to a staff closet before you stumble down, tiger flowers bursting out of your lips. Water builds up in your eyes, hand clutching onto your chest as the retching continues, a deep burn being left behind. 

It’s when the flowers slow down, decreasing in volume that you manage to swipe some of the sweat trailing down your temples. Your vision finally focuses through all the tears, small coughs still trembling through your windpipe. 

A small gasp behind you has you freezing. 

Your half-lidded eyes snap back, finding Jungkook's paralyzed ones. A hand is covering his mouth, his voice quivering.

“Oh my god….” 

You don’t have the strength to will your voice to work, barely able to breath in and out with your congested airflow. Jungkook falls to his knees, eyes scanning all over the flowers before flickering up to you. 

“You–” He begins, form frantic. “In here…the f-flowers….” 

His hand plucks up on the tiger flower, perfectly matching the ink on his skin. 

He lets go of the flower and it flutters down to you. His lips move, horror transfixed in his eyes as the realization dawns onto him, hitting him all at once.

“I-I broke you….” 

You sniffle, arm coming up to swipe away the tears that have collected in your eyes. But Jungkook is faster, the pads of his thumbs immediately coming up to cup your face, gently brushing them away.

You look up, gaze locked onto his. And you can see everything. 

He understands – his pain reflecting yours. 

“Jungkook!” He sucks in a breath, head swiveling around to a voice echoing out from the closet. “Where have you been? Everyone’s already taken their seats.” 

“I-I’ll be right there.” He turns to you, but you’re already scooping the flowers up, tucking them into a bag that you found nearby. Jungkook silently joins you, helping you until the closet is completely clear of any trace of them. 

You leave before him, not exchanging one word. 

The wedding commences. 

You have taken your seat at the front, having a full display of the event right before you. Jungkook sits a row behind you, and you’re grateful at not having to be so close to him for the long duration. 

Because as much as you can acknowledge the shared pain you hold – you know that the existence for Jungkook's is why you’re gathered here today, and you know that yours is just sitting a row away.

He will never love you like you do him. Aera will never love him like he does her.

The ceremony begins and you look up, gazing at the couple you’ve come to see tie the knot. The marriage officiant speaks up, going through each and every piece of what will bring them together. Your eyes are focused, but ever so and then, they furrow at Aera.

Not because of envy, but rather, it’s like her eyes are wavering, prodding around in the audience instead.

What is she doing? 

You wonder, only seeing her glance at Sunoo a couple of times or breaking out of her daze to repeat the officiant words. 

It’s almost like she’s focused on–

Your eyes trail, following her field of vision until it lands straight on Jungkook. And you’re even more caught off guard when you find out where his gaze is directed. 

He’s looking at you, eyes not wavering even when you catch him.

You flush at the realization, quickly averting your eyes to focus back onto the couple. Thankfully, it soon draws to an end and the officiant wraps up the ceremony.

“You may now kiss the bride.” Sunoo leans in and Aera smiles, as does the officiant. 

He pronounces them as husband and wife and a big cheer erupts from the guests. Everyone claps – including you and the couple descends down, interacting with those that have attended their wedding.

You take up the opportunity to depart, desperately needing some fresh air and Jungkook catches onto the action.

“Jungkook!” Aera exclaims, leaving Sunoo’s side and looping her arm around his, “Come on! I want a pictur–” 

“Not now, Aera.” He winces with an apologetic smile, feet headed after the direction you’ve left in. Aera watches in complete disbelief, not even hearing Sunoo call out her name. 

His steps are quickened, eyes darting back and forth. He bumps into a couple of guests on the way out, simply giving them a quick smile before he resumes trudging against the tiled floor.

His heart is racing, so much to the point where it feels like it might burst.

Within minutes, he finds your backside on a bench outside near the venue, shoulders hunched and making your form appear smaller than ever.

“Y/N?” He breathes out, slowly walking towards you.

“J-Jungkook?” You swivel, startled that he had followed you out here. 

He stands in front of you, kneeling down. The eye contact makes you flinch, an uncomfortable sensation churning in your chest the longer he looks at you. 

But before you can run away, before you can even search for a place to empty out the flowers threatening to spill from your throat, he leans forward. 

He leans forward, and his lips collide with your own. 

You softly gasp, heat brushing on your cheeks. It feels just like the first time you shared a kiss with him, warmth flooding through you. 

Your trembling hands reach out, tugging him closer. 

He places his own on top of yours, holding them as lips moving fervently against yours. 

You feel it all – the delicate flowers blooming within your chest, the hues of orangish-red coloring your windpipe, the itch to push him away spiking more than ever.

But you part from him with a different reason altogether. 

A sharp breath escapes you, airflow flooding into your lungs. It feels easier to inhale and exhale, no longer feeling like there was something constricting and blocking your windpipe.

As your chest rises and falls sporadically, you stare at Jungkook in astonishment. He mimics the expression you hold, a twinkle beginning to spark in his eyes. 

Almost as if he were experiencing the same thing. 

“I-I can–” 

“Breathe?” He completes with a smile and you slowly nod, tears slipping out of your eyes. 

Jungkook wraps his arms around you comfortingly, his own eyes glossing over as you tremble. The pads of his thumbs come up to cup your face, gently brushing your tears away. 

He rises to his feet, reaching his hand out. You take it within a heartbeat, sniffling as he walks back into the venue with you. 

Your tender gazes occasionally meet, with soft smiles being exchanged. 

A sharp scream pierces through the air.

The two of you whirl around in an instant, noticing Aera's mother stepping out of the room in the frenzy.

“What happened?” You immediately ask, watching the woman’s shake her head frantically. 

She doesn’t answer you, too caught up in her own thoughts, “Oh, it’s terrible, so, so terrible–”

You frown, but Jungkook tugs on you, eyes staring straight into the room that she had left.

Stepping next to him, your eyes transfixed into horror.

Aera stands in the middle of the room, with Sunoo by her side – a plethora of tiger flowers and tulips surrounding the two of them. 

[micamicster]

ma'am the people want to hear your blocking thoughts it's not something i really paid attention to but then when you mentioned it I can see how that's part of what gives letterkenny it's letterkenny vibes? anyway THOUGHTS

omg SO. okay. I am not the best person to discuss this (i know very little about cinematography and the terms etc that should be used to talk about this) but i am happy to give my thoughts!

So the video that prompted this question is a great example of it,

Just the way that wayne, like, pops up from behind that wooden structure to say his line is hysterical. The screenshots don't do it justice

here are a couple more just from like, the first 2 episodes of the show.

Letterkenny tends to pose its cast in tableau, where everyone sits in the exact same position every time and their shots are very static--they have everyone run their dialogue/bit without much movement from the established positions. I think this is likely a product of this show starting out as an incredibly low budget youtube series that these guys were filming themselves. You would set up the camera to get everyone in the shot, do the scene, move the camera. But from the very beginning they're using these static shots as part of the humor of the series, by framing the characters in unexpected or unnatural ways. (A big favorite of the series is the shot that unexpectedly cuts off the character's face and tbh it cracks me up every time like look at these!)

Even early on, this sort of attention to detail added to the shows appeal. It's evolved over the seasons into its own visual language, that they've kept even as the show's budget increased.

I think it adds to the humor of the show, and it also helps establish the small town repetitiveness of it? Like every time they have a scene at the produce stand, the characters sit in their produce-stand-positions. It really drives home how they do the exact same things every day with the exact same people. The conversations vary, the setting is identical.

Now for an even more meta take on it, I think this stiff and unexpected framing/blocking is related to our stiff and unexpected protaganist. Wayne (jared keeso you're SO fucking funny) always stands the exact same way, he moves very abruptly from one specific pose to another, he always holds the telephone the exact same way, he has specific and repetitive motions he always does in the same order, he's our autistic king and he's the toughest guy in letterkenny! The framing and blocking mimic his body movements, making us view the whole show from his perspective, inside his world. It's so fun <3

look at that center framing wes anderson who?

[2baddiesfanfics]

Ulterior Motives

Pairing: Arlecchino x Furina

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Cake, Virginity, Kissing

Summary:

As Furina struggles to find purpose in her life, an unexpected visitor comes to call. Bearing cake as a peace offering, Arlecchino attempts to smooth things over from their most recent interaction. When emotions flair, Furina ends up with an experience she won't soon forget.

Read on Ao3

It was odd. Furina had spent so much time looking down from her proverbial throne that the image of her humble apartment ceiling had now become strangely comforting.

There was no longer any need for theatrics. The archon Focalor was no more. She was just…Furina. Funny. After 500 years of keeping a secret, she thought she’d feel so much more relief.

Yes, a part of her did feel weightless. But not in a good way. More like an “aimlessly drifting through life day-to-day” kind of way. A “what’s the point?” kind of way. A “why am I even here?” kind of way.

Her stomach rumbled alerting her to the human need to fill it with something. Never in her time as a god did she think the one thing she’d miss would be having well-prepared meals at her beck and call.

I should really get up and cook myself something. What kind of macaroni have I not already made this week? Not like it matters. It all tastes the same anyway.

Her train of thought was unexpectedly interrupted by a series of steady raps on the door.

“Lady Furina?”

The blood ceased flowing through her veins. The only person who knew her new address was Neuvillette. This was most certainly not his voice.

This could only be the husky timbre of the Knave.

Shit! How did she find out where I live? Maybe if I ignore her, she’ll go away.

Her name was called a second time, only firmer.

Pretend you’re not here. She’ll give up soon.

“…I brought cake.”

Furina slowly opened one eye. Shifting off the bed, she brought herself to pull the front door open a smidge.

“What do you want?” She asked, irritation dripping from her words. “Come to gloat?”

“I only want to talk. Truly. May I come in?”

Heaving an overly dramatic sigh, Furina stepped aside. “How did you find me?”

Arlecchino moved about the sparse kitchen with a familiarity that slightly scared Furina. It was as if she knew exactly where to find what she was looking for.

“I’m waiting…”

“Patience, dear. We have all night to talk. Let me at least feed you. By the looks of things, you haven’t been eating well. Or treating yourself well, for that matter.”

She had her there. In the aftermath of the trial from hell, Furina had won her freedom, yes. But at what cost? Without her godhood, what did she have left? The people of Fontaine no longer needed an omnipotent savior figure to call on in a crisis. What was her purpose now?

Pulling a chair from the table, Arlecchino gestured for her to take a seat. Once she did, the Knave joined her.

“Now, to answer your previous question. Don’t be foolish. You know the House of the Hearth has its ways. Finding your address was child’s play.”

Furina rolled her eyes. Of course. Those three troublesome children of hers certainly knew how to make magic happen. She prodded her slice of cake with a fork, slowly feeling like she was regaining her appetite. Damn her and this rare confectionery treat.

"Look, Lady Furina. At this point, I don't think there's any more need to speak as diplomatic representatives. Allow me to speak to you now as just a Fontainian.”

Suddenly Furina wasn’t hungry anymore. She had heard Arlecchino speak these exact words to her once prior. Before she knew who Furina really was. The woman certainly had her suspicions and had come dangerously close to blowing the secret she had dutifully kept for half a thousand years.

“If you’re only here to taunt and berate me, you can leave now, Knave. I have no interest in revisiting the past. I’ve lived long enough to know it’ll never stop haunting me.”

Arlecchino pinned her with a glare that was intense enough to burn. “Furina, look at me.”

Realizing the woman had dropped her formal “lady” title, she shifted her gaze upward to meet blazing scarlet eyes that seemed to stare deeper than she was comfortable with.

“Since the prophecy is no longer hanging above our necks like a guillotine, I feel I can speak frankly. I came here to apologize for my behavior that day.”

Furina’s brow furrowed. An awkward pause filled the room.

“…What’s the catch?”

“It wounds me that you’d think I came here with an ulterior motive. After learning more about your…situation…I deeply regret calling you nonchalant and carefree. I realize now you hadn’t failed to take action, but rather, you couldn’t. I hope you’ll accept this sweet treat as an apology,” she concluded with a soft, sincere smile that looked out of place on such a sharp face.

While Furina certainly wasn’t about to turn down the delicacy, she couldn’t help a surge of rage from bubbling forth like acid.

“That’s it? You think a fucking piece of cake is going to make up for the humiliation you made me feel that day in Neuvillette’s office?” She scoffed. “You knew right well I've never ignored the prophecy, nor was I passing the time in self-indulgence. You have no idea what I’ve had to endure, and yet you waltz in here uninvited as if my forgiveness was signed, sealed, and delivered. Don’t make me laugh!”

Arlecchino’s countenance turned dark. “My sincerest apologies oh great Hydro Archon. Or should I say…former great Hydro Archon? You’ll have to excuse my behavior at the time. I was at a loss for how to properly express my anger at your neglect. How was I supposed to know you had a mighty plan to save your people? Oh…that’s right. You had to keep those you had sworn to protect completely in the dark when it came to how they were supposed to survive in a land that, for all intents and purposes, would soon disappear beneath the waves," she bit back.

Furina’s chair screeched against the aging wooden floor of her apartment as she jolted upward in disgust and disbelief.

“You bitch! How dare you! I told you then that I had my ways and I'd been working on them for as long as I’d been forced into this archon-forsaken position! To this day, even if you look down upon me, you have no right to judge!" She bellowed far too loudly for someone of such small stature.

For a moment, nothing could be heard in the cramped space but the sound of Furina’s heavy breathing. Then…the soft yet seductive chuckle of the Knave permeated the tense atmosphere.

“Why, yes. I do suppose you’re right,” she stated, rising to her feet. Towering over her, Furina took a step backward only to realize her living area wouldn’t permit escape.

“The bottom line is we all survived, now, isn’t it? I cannot claim to know what you’ve gone through to bring about this result, but I can only imagine I have you to thank,” she continued as her arm trapped the girl between her lithe body and the wall. Furina shivered.

Arlecchino surveyed her through hooded eyes, a hunter on the prowl for something far more than an acknowledgment of her appreciation. Her face was now mere inches from Furina’s. The heat of her breath danced on her lips, already parted in anticipation for what she was sure was bound to happen next. She was prey, powerless against the intoxicating allure of the predator about to strike.

“…And those who work hard deserve gratitude and praise.”

Before she could respond, Arlecchino closed the distance between them swiftly. Furina let out a muffled yelp of surprise. Questions reeled through her mind. What is she doing!? I thought she hated me. Was she not just trying to win my favor for her own political advantage?

In the end, she decided she didn’t care. In all her 500 years, she had never been in the position she now found herself. As a god, the concept of love was somewhat foreign to her. Adoration she had experienced, yes. Devotion? She’d had her fair share of admirers come up to her after shows for an autograph or two, of course. But she was getting ahead of herself. Love? Who said this was anything but raw, aching need?

Her eyes faded shut as she fell deeper under the Knave’s spell. The woman’s tongue slithered out, seeking permission to taste her. Gaining access, Arlecchino sensed the reluctance behind her acquiescence. The laugh she let out reverberated against Furina’s mouth.

“What’s the matter?” She taunted between panting breaths. “Afraid?”

Furina’s eyes snapped open. Shimmering pools of light and dark blues that reflected her mastery of the hydro element stared back at the woman before her. She was one of the Fatui Harbingers. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t frightened. But Furina was no stranger to lies - she’d been living one longer than Arlecchino had been alive.

Mustering all the courage she could, she retorted, “You wish.” Wrapping her arms around the taller woman’s neck, she pulled her forward once more and continued their carnal duel. The Knave, caught off-balance by the unexpected bit of candor, tripped forward slightly, pushing her body further against Furina’s. The girl welcomed closer contact as she let slip a soft moan.

Grabbing her by the backs of her thighs, Arlecchino hoisted her up and guided her to wrap them around her waist. Navigating them both to the bedroom, she deposited her gently on the already rumpled sheets.

There was a part of Arlecchino that truly felt sorry for her. In no way could she relate to what Furina had gone through, but if the state of her bed was any indication, it was taking her time to transition to living a mortal life. While she relished the chase and was eager to introduce her to the many pleasures of being human, she realized she’d have to take her time with her lest she scare her off completely.

“Furina, darling…remove your clothing for me,” she murmured as her lips danced down her neckline. As her hands maneuvered to undo the buttons of her shirt, Arlecchino could feel a tremble in her movements.

Well, I did say she deserved praise. Let’s see how this works…

“Mmmm…such an obedient little thing,” she purred. Furina immediately stopped shaking and instead worked faster to clear the line. Arlecchino let out a throaty chuckle. Oh, this is going to be far too easy…it’s not surprising considering she probably has received very little acknowledgment for such a massive sacrifice on her part.

Shrugging out of her own coat, Arlecchino watched with ferocity as the former archon of Fontaine stripped down to nothing in front of her. Holding a seat of power herself, she was used to being the one in control. Seeing Furina so eager to do what she asked turned her on in a way she hadn’t experienced before. This was much more…thrilling. It was time to press further.

Crawling back over her, Arlecchino continued her exploration of Furina’s body. “Yes…that’s it. You’re doing so well for me, dear,” she whispered as her teeth gently sank into the sensitive skin of her breast.

“Aghhhh…Arlecchino…” she groaned, her head canting back.

“Oh, come now. That won’t do. I believe we’re well acquainted enough for you to call me Father.”

An intense blush spread across Furina’s face. She knew this was what members of the House of the Hearth called her, but there was just something so…taboo sounding about it. Nevertheless, she had to admit it fit the debonair woman looking down at her.

“Y-yes…Father.”

Arlecchino had to swallow her own moan at the use of this name in a setting far different than she usually heard it.

“That’s a good girl,” she managed. Her tongue circled a taught nipple, drawing a high-pitched whine from Furina. Taking it into her mouth, Arlecchino sucked forcefully. Furina’s hips thrust upward in response, her hands twisting in the other woman’s hair. Deftly grabbing her wrists, Arlecchino collected and then pinned them above her head with one of her own.

“Ah, ah, ah. If I’m to make you feel good, then I can’t have you distracting me while I do so. Understood?” She chastised.

Furina nodded furiously, eyes hungry to discover what might happen next. Resuming her licking and nipping, she got her to a point where she knew she had to be ready for her. Her free hand sought the space between her legs, her fingers slipping through her folds with ease.

Arlecchino’s breath felt hot against Furina’s ear as she whispered, “Fuck baby girl, your pussy is so wet and ready for me.”

“Ahhhhh…Father…please…” Furina choked as she writhed beneath her, need evident in the sound of her voice.

“You’re so beautiful when you struggle for me like this…” she taunted, her fingers pulsing inside of her now. Tears, not of fear or hurt but of sheer pleasure, formed at the corners of Furina’s eyes. Arlecchino’s thumb moved in steady circles around her clit, drawing her ever closer to her orgasm.

“Yessss take it for me…I know you can…look at you…ready to cum so soon from so little stimulation…you have no idea what you’re doing to me…just like that…” Her words flooded over Furina until the dam broke.

“Father ohhhhh fuckkkkk!” Her body convulsed around her fingers as she shook under the force of her orgasm.

As Furina lay catching her breath, she detected movement on the mattress. “Very good, darling. Now, it’s only fair I get something in return. I know you don’t have much experience in these matters, but we’ll soon change that, hmm? Just do as I say,” the Knave commanded as she removed the rest of her own clothing. Shifting herself over her, she carefully took her position kneeling above her head.

“This should be simple enough. From what I’ve seen at trials, you’ve always been talented with your mouth. You’ll be the good girl that you are and help me out, won’t you?” Arlecchino purred down at her.

Furina did indeed understand exactly what was being requested of her. “I’ll do my best, Father.” The air of sweet innocence in her voice made the Knave tremble ever so slightly. Smoothing the tendrils of hair from Furina’s forehead, Arlecchino slid her fingers through her tresses as she lowered herself at just the right angle.

“Mmmm, how ironic. You may no longer be the Hydro Archon, but you sure know how to get me wet,” Arlecchino said as Furina’s tongue made contact with her clit. She began to move her hips back and forth, forcing her to apply more pressure.

Encouraged by the Knave’s praise, Furina mustered the courage needed to slip her tongue into the woman above her.

“Ohhhhh, archons…yes,” she cried out.

With a small smile at the more experienced woman’s moans of approval, Furina experimented with thrusts and licks of different paces and lengths. Sliding her hand between her thighs, she used two fingers she widened her lips to give her easier access to Arlecchino’s sensitive bud.

The Knave’s knees buckled. She wasn’t expecting that. “Fuck…that’s it…good girl!” she huffed as her hips began to move faster.

Furina swiped her thumb across her clit in a steady motion as she darted back in for another taste of her arousal. She felt the Knave tighten her grip on her hair as her legs shook and she lost control.

“Furina…fuckkkkk…” she ground out in time with her frantic thrusts. Having found her release, she shifted to settle at her side. The former archon flushed.

“I hope that was ok. As you noted, it’s not like I have an abundance of experience in this area,” she giggled sheepishly. There was something so pure about her that made it hard for Arlecchino not to grin back at her.

“Look at you. I’ve made a mess of your face,” she said apologetically as she wiped some of her slick from Furina’s lips with a gentle brush of her finger. Placing a surprisingly chaste kiss on her lips, she continued. “Archon or not, you look ravishing.”

Furina nuzzled closer to her, refusing to meet her gaze directly. “At the risk of ruining the moment…why here? Why now? Why…me?” A pensive look glimmered in the Knave’s eyes as she tilted Furina’s face upward by her chin.

“Because, my dear. While the people of Fontaine may no longer need Furina the archon, I need only Furina. The House of the Hearth does important work, but I cannot do it alone. Having someone who’s central to Fontaine would be extremely beneficial, and I believe you may be the one for the job. You’ve spent your years living for the sake of others. To have that ripped away in an instant must surely leave one feeling bereft of purpose, no? My only intention is to fill that void.”

Furina’s eyes gleamed. Perhaps helping raise those who had been forgotten by the world would bring her a sense of belonging. Lying around her dingy apartment by herself wasn’t exactly the life she had dreamed of now that she had her freedom. The corners of her mouth twitched upward into a smirk.

“So…if the children of the House call you Father, does that make me Mother?”

Arlecchino rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, little one.”

[wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj]

Asking this because I’m genuinely curious uhhh what are your thoughts on Bobby being a catholic in s16e06 and s16e16

s16e06 came out the monday (three (3) days) after i posted manic pixie dream girl bobby brackenreid to ao3 .

and im still not fully convinced it wasnt a prank for me specifically. like what the hell. i post my fic and bobby suddenly appears for the first time since last season ???? and now (s)he’s CATHOLIC ???? did i manifest that but wrong ??? (one time through fic i manifested something right which was funny) pretty baffling

anyways im deeply fascinated by this direction bc like storywise its of course pretty far from what i envisioned in mpdgbb but thematically theres unexpectedly a lot of overlap i think. bobby becoming catholic shows him developing past and beyond what was initially expected of him—trouble, violence—and importantly it separates him from his father, who. well represents some of those worse parts (brackenreid took pride in bobby being the « rough and tumble » son, the one taking after him) n like honestly the queer route honestly does the same thing. leaving that behind for something less conventional, unexpected but softer. just like his brother, who traded being a cop for acting. so at the end of the day i wasnt even too mad. that's still my bobby

to illustrate originally i came up with this image

but it occurred to me that the path to both is kind of also the same ? catholicism/the whole mpdgbb route both are from needing a place to belong after spending so long away from his family, not having really an idea where he's going. n so:

of course it's more complex than that. many more details include how i think some of the aggression was from pent up trans discomfort and rage, and the hypothetical possibility of realizing transness WHILE catholic which would sure be. a time.

here's justan illustration of the different timelines/possibilities

yellow : « canon » pink : mpdgbb canon blue : canon in my heart

as you can see catholic bobby is not canon in the mpdgbb-verse because i wrote that first fic and constructed the whole premise before it aired. i dont know if i could ever explore a catholic bobby brackenreid in detail in writing and especially fic, im the brand of raised-catholicnonbeliever that never cared in the first place so while i can like these stories i could definitely never write them myself with the grace they deserve

so like i dont really have insight on what being catholic realistically means for him and i cant possibly predict what theyre going to do next with him, except well . the trenches (ww1 in two years babeyyyyyyyy). fun to talk abt though !

[pagingdoctorbedlam]

ok so here's my idea

czerny taps horns/antlers with ebenholz and its just a gay little thing they do.

and hibiscus sees it and goes "what was that"

and theyre both like.. "uh oh that? oh. thats embarassing. you werent supposed to see"

(I've actually had similar thoughts before about Ebenholz showing affection through little goat-headbutts...but this idea is super cute. Now you've gone and inspired a ficlet. I hope you're happy. XD)

As with most habits Czerny had picked up since joining Rhodes Island, this one was Ebenholz's fault.

Czerny had never been big on physical affection. Hands to himself, content to acknowledge others with a nod or even a half-bow, not too keen on unexpected contact with anyone. Ebenholz tried to carry himself in much the same way, was nothing but unfailingly polite, but it was clear to anyone who spent more than five minutes with him that the Caprinae was starved for touch and attention both.

The first time had caught Czerny off guard. He'd been working on a composition, practicing a progression so quick he had to play hand-over-hand to reach the notes in time, when he'd felt a solid tap against one of his antlers. He'd startled, wracking his brain over what he might've accidentally hit with them (it had taken quite some time to get used to most of the landship's doorways), only to find Ebenholz standing there.

"You've been here for hours now. It's dinner time. Up with you."

"Right. Did you...knock on my antler?"

"You didn't hear me the first time, but I also did not want to risk being smacked."

Czerny almost retaliated that he would never, but then again, he did once accidentally give Chiave a bloody nose after the man had unexpectedly slapped him on the back. That had been embarrassing enough, though it also somehow earned the so-called gang leader's respect. A confusing man, that one.

He'd thanked Ebenholz, and joined him for dinner in what quickly became routine. Seemed that wherever Czerny might end up, Ebenholz could always seek him out if needed, and would always catch his attention by tapping one of his horns to Czerny's antlers. It was reminiscent of the Caprinae and Elafia children back home, often headbutting each other to play or get attention from their parents. (Not that Czerny had ever done the same...much.) Perhaps such was a habit Ebenholz had never quite outgrown?

Still, Czerny didn't realize how routine it had become until one day when he was asked to grab Ebenholz from the trading post. The young man barked orders and verbally cut down traders who tried to swindle him with all the authority of a former Graf Urtica, and Czerny certainly didn't wish to throw him off. So he approached quietly, waited for an opportune moment, and leaned over to tap an antler against Ebenholz's horn.

The young man turned, and broke out into a grin that somehow made his entire ashen-pale face seem bright. "Ah, Czerny. Is my shift over already? Forgive me for losing track of the time...shall we get going, then?"

Something about that expression did a funny thing to Czerny's stomach. He must've been hungrier than he thought. Surely that was all. He shoved the idea that it might mean anything more so thoroughly out of his mind that he didn't think about it again until months later.

A combat mission had just wrapped up. Ebenholz had made it back to the transport first, sitting in a dark corner with his eyes shut to block out an oncoming headache. Czerny took the seat next to him, waiting a moment to announce his presence with a tap. Ebenholz glanced up at him from under his bangs and smiled.

Except this time, someone noticed. A someone called Hibiscus. "Oh, what was that? Some sort of Leithanien greeting?"

Czerny's eyes shot up to meet hers. She was smiling, but it was more than her usual peaceful grin. No, there was a spark behind this one. Sly, some might call it, as if "sly" and "Hibiscus" could ever be put in the same sentence together.

"It is..." Czerny found himself at a loss for words. What was this, really? It had long gone beyond a simple greeting, but he didn't have the words for what it had become. It was a way to say "I'm here" without words. A halfway point between needing to touch and not wanting to be touched at all. An assurance. Trust.

"It's just a little thing we do," Ebenholz answered, soft but with an air of finality that invites no further conversation on the matter. "Do not worry yourself overmuch about it, Fraulein."

"Right, of course. Well, if neither of you are hurt, I'll let you get to it." Hibiscus had the audacity to wink at them as she walked away. The duo waited until she was gone to look at each other and silently ask: what were they really doing? What was this thing between them, really?

They didn't answer aloud. Ebenholz inclined his head. Czerny tapped, antler to horn. The pair smiled and settled in for the ride back. And when Ebenholz leaned against him and closed his eyes, Czerny found he didn't mind that so much either.

[icy-watch]

Fun fact: Look at Wukong's little blue boy scout cape in the flashback :) yeah it's blue, some unexpected red/blue duo coding with Macky there. AND the one he has in the future is red. In fact, one might even say it's the exact same one Macky was wearing. Gee, wonder what happened there. Also the him!! the white horse dragon Ao Lie who is unexpectedly really derpy and OWO UWU for someone we thought was going to be a grumpy old man at first XD I was just going "haha very Macaque of you Mei" when she was saying "you're nothing!" @/herself kind of in relation to other people also being if so and so expectation isn't met. Y'know *jazz hands towards The Winning Side again* we do say Mei and MK are just ShadowPeach but healthier. but the hero and the warrior- were like...the sea and sky...? And then she did the "ugh this guy" facepalm and I had to pause bc lmao??? Macky does that too......my sincerest apologies to hero!Mei truthers, which could still be very valid and sure was at the start + MK having a bit of Macky's fighting style someone said once, they do swap and share traits a lot but I get the sneaaaaaky feeling we're in for a ShadowPeach 2.0 sometimes. Tang finding Mo is so cute and silly, and Macky is so stressed and tense you can hear it in his voice...hehe, what are all those options btw and did they have anything to do with Point B aka your possible death....whatdya do Mac? If option "Wukong is a traitor" isn't what you subscribe to. Then perhaps its "Wukong is an unwilling participant" cue the theory that Macky attacked Tripitaka and gang bc well, he did it in JTTW anyways but we're expecting the reasons to be different. But there's an extra layer to why he would, almost like *gets dragged off stage* anyways. Tang's face when he realizes which part of the story the magic river water is XD and then we flash to, I think Chang'e floating to the moon? Nezha's fight against that one dragon oh no so they're keeping that plot line, I mean of course they are. Nezha's story is so dark tho, its def implied they're keeping the whole thing I think. Not and LBD jumpscare...I thought that was Princess Iron Fan on my first watch whoops. but hello??? She was part of the Celestial Realm at first??? HMMMMM. well that definitely doesn't make things all the more suspicious. It's kind of funny how much they talk about Monkey King being MK's dad bc the writers are fully aware of what the fandom might think, or was thinking before anyways, but they confirmed it on twitter that's not the case. I just checked ep 6 and its got a nice fun cliffhanger for you to chew on. build up expectations and ideas.

Hmmm... interesting 👀

[pocket-luv101]

Cecilias // CynoNari

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: Tighnari helps Albedo design a card back for Cyno.

“Cyno has an unexpected fondness for plants like desert shrubs, lotuses and roses. You can use flowers for the border of his new card back. He wants Dvalin to be the centerpiece so you should choose a Mondstadt flower to match. Unfortunately, I’ve only read of the flowers here and I’m not very artistic so I can’t make further suggestions.”

Tighnari walked along the cliff with Albedo. The view was breathtaking and he wished that he could share it with Cyno and Collei. They were both busy with their own sightseeing though. A pleasant breeze passed him and filtered through the swaying Cecilias. He wanted to collect a few flower samples to bring back to Sumeru and study. Albedo joined him because the view would give him inspiration for Cyno’s commission. During the hike, their conversation naturally drifted to Cyno.

“Aether wrote to me of his adventures in Sumeru. Cyno was not how I imagined the General Mahamatra to be. Though, he did say that he’s the Adventurer Cyno on this trip.” Tighnari couldn’t read Albedo’s expression to know whether he truly enjoyed Cyno’s joke or not. “I’m curious how you and Collei came to know Cyno. He doesn’t seem like the type to mix work and personal relationships.”

“Actually, we met through his work. He suspected me of academic corruption and investigated my study group.” Tighnari had told the story of how he met Cyno countless times because many people would ask the same question as Albedo. Shock briefly passed his face and he quickly added: “It was a misunderstanding. You can imagine my surprise when the General Mahamatra approached me with flowers and apologized for wrongly suspecting me. I must’ve left a good impression because he asked me to care for Collei on his behalf.”

“Since I have a little sister, that decision is a significant sign of trust.” Albedo nodded. He was often busy with his alchemy and I couldn’t play with Klee whenever she wished. He took solace in the fact that Mondstadt was a carefree city and she could always find a knight to help her. “Cyno and I have a lot in common, it seems. I am captain of an investigation team and we enjoy dry humour.”

“It might be more accurate to call his puns forced rather than just dry humour.” Tighnari walked further up the mountain where the wind was stronger. He was certain that he could hear the silence that would often follow one of Cyno’s jokes. “I’m glad that you like his jokes. They’re not the best jokes but he puts a lot of effort into them. So far, only Nahida has laughed at his jokes. On the other hand, your comment about jokes not needing to make people laugh will encourage him to tell those puns the entire journey back to Sumeru.”

“His jokes are quite witty.” Albedo tilted his head in confusion. He thought that Tighnari would’ve appreciate Cyno’s puns because he was also a scholar. On the other hand, he also considered Aether and Sucrose to be intelligent yet they didn’t laugh either. Humans were truly confusing at times. “I will listen to his jokes so you don’t have to.”

“It’s not about that.” He realized how his previous words could sound like disdain for his humour and corrected Albedo. “The reason I’m glad Cyno’s jokes is because he’ll have one more person who understands him. Due to his reputation as the General Mahamatra, people are far too wary of him. They only need to give him a chance to see how kind, loyal and funny he is. Don’t tell him about that last one. It’ll further encourage his bad jokes.”

“You really care about Cyno, don’t you?”

“Of course, we have a close relationship.” He nodded in agreement but there were deeper feelings that he didn’t voice. Tighnari held the Cecilia flower against his lips and its pale colour contrasted with the blush on his cheeks. “I want him to be happy. I learned how to play Genius Invokation TCG just for him. The game is unexpectedly fun. Though, it’s impossible to force myself to laugh at his jokes. I respect Cyno too much to lie about his puns.”

Tighnari began to ramble about Cyno like he would with his love for plants. With each word, a fond smile grew over his face until his feelings were impossible to hide. He didn’t appear to realize it himself. Despite how he wanted Cyno to find more friends who understood him, a part of him couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. His mother warned him that fennec foxes could be territorial.

“When did you and Cyno start dating?” Albedo considered it an innocent question until he saw the way Tighnari’s ears flattened. His blush grew and the flower he held couldn’t hide it anymore. While they were camping, Tighnari spoke with a sharp tongue and Albedo didn’t expect to see him become flustered. It was clear that Tighnari had yet to confess to Cyno.

“I heard that Mondstadt was carefree but I didn’t expect you to be so direct with your words. Even scholars in the Akademiya would have the social grace to not talk about someone’s romantic life.” Tighnari tried to brush aside Albedo’s words. He quickly realized that was impossible because Albedo continued to probe him with questions.

“Did I read the situation wrong? Alice told me that I could be too recluse and that will affect my relationships. I tend to overthink human relationships too. I thought I was improving in recent years.” Albedo mused to himself. His voice was more curious than regretful. Then, he faced Tighnari and said: “You should tell Cyno how you feel. During Windblume, people will give flowers to their loved ones and express their feelings.”

“Can we discuss the card back for Cyno?” Tighnari tried to steer the conversation away from his unspoken feelings for his best friend.

“Do you want the card back to be the Windblume that you’ll give to Cyno? It’s unconventional but people are free to choose anything that symbolizes love and freedom.” Albedo took out his sketchbook from his bag. “I have a few designs in mind based on our earlier discussion. The Cecilia flower is said to represent a once wayward heart transformed by the power of love.”

“Wayward heart?” Tighnari repeated the words and laughed softly to himself. His gaze wandered to the flowers around them and they reminded him of Cyno’s long hair. Sometimes, he would run his fingers through his hair similar to how the wind passed through the flowers now. “Cyno values justice and I can’t remember a time his heart has ever wavered. His job is important to him and a relationship would make it complicated. I won’t let that happen.”

“I know of a time when Cyno’s heart was uncertain.” Albedo surprised Tighnari. He had known Cyno for years yet he wasn’t able to think of what he could be referring to. “Years ago, I overheard a conversation between Cyno and Lisa. I think it was when Collei first came to Mondstadt. Cyno insisted that Collei should stay here.”

Tighnari’s brows furrowed together in confusion. He recalled the day Cyno introduced him to Collei. That night, they discussed how they would raise her and everything she needed. There wasn’t a hint of doubt or hesitation in his voice.

Albedo continued: “Cyno was adamant that it was dangerous to take her back to the Akademiya. The sages might treat her like a test subject.”

“I understand now.” Tighnari said and bit his lip. Cyno had told him about his childhood in the Akademiya. While his adoptive father and Lisa were kind to Cyno, they couldn’t protect him from everything. “He never told me directly but I already assumed that was why he wanted to help Collei seal the god’s remains. What made him decide to bring her to Sumeru in the end?”

“You,” was Albedo’s simple answer. “He told Lisa that there’s a scholar who he trusts with his life. This scholar was a moral and kind man who could help Collei. He wouldn’t make such a decision lightly. Cyno doesn’t consider you or Collei a burden to his job. He’s likely waiting for you to confess first like you decided to do.”

“I—”

“Tighnari!” He heard Cyno call his name from the base of the base of the mountain. Tighnari ran to meet him halfway. As they drew closer, Tighnari could see the different plants in Cyno’s arms and the subtle smile on his lips. Cyno stopped in front of him and handed him a Windwheel Aster from his makeshift bouquet. “I managed to take a picture of Dvalin and I wanted to show it to you. I picked a few Mondstadt specialties on the way here. This knight showed me where they were.”

“Thank you, Cyno. These would be great for my research once we return to Sumeru.” Tighnari slipped the Cecilia flower and the Windwheel Aster into the bouquet before he took the flowers. “You came just in time because Albedo and I were working on your card back. I made a few suggestions to him. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I trust you.” Cyno said. He noticed a few petals caught in Tighnari’s hood and he dusted them away. “The wind is strong here. What did the ocean say to the Cecilia flowers growing at the top of the cliff? Well, the flower couldn’t hear him so he just waved.”

“You must be in a great mood to make a pun like.” Tighnari laughed. Cyno didn’t expect him to do so and he was pleasantly surprised by the sight. “Let’s show that photo to Albedo. I told him you would prefer to have the dragon in an action pose mid-flight.”

“You know me well and that’s why I trust you.”

[c-40]

A-T-4 120 Nermin Niazi and Feisal Mosleh Sari Sari Raat

It’s funny how I'm only aware of a record made in my hometown via an American reissue label. Here’s the blurb on their Bandcamp

Rescued from obscurity, “Disco Se Aagay”— literally “Beyond Disco”— is an unexpectedly perfect storm of two unlikely sources: the visionary sound of British new wave seamlessly interwoven with the Pakistani musical heritage of its teenage dreamers, Nermin Niazi and Feisal Mosleh.

Recorded over the course of a summer school holiday in 1984 at the storied Zella Studios, the album was produced by the legendary Oriental Star Agencies record label in Birmingham.

Influenced by the likes of Depeche Mode and Human League as well as the luminous disco of subcontinental icons like Nazia Hasan, musical ingenues 14-year-old Nermin and her 19-year-old brother Feisal created a new wave masterpiece with an unexpected twist — Urdu-language lyrics and Hindustani melodic scales.

Nermin Niazi and Feisal Mosleh are siblings who migrated with their parents to the Birmingham in the UK from Pakistan as babies in the aftermath of the Bangladesh Liberation War in 1971. Their father is the film composer Muslehuddin and their mother the playback/ghost singer Naheed Niazi. I’m just learning the term nepo baby

The siblings come from a musical legacy going back generations, I couldn’t tell you if the remained active in music but as children they were certainly in a privileged position to be around some of Pakistans best and most successful musicians. Nermin Niazi and Feisal Mosleh’s sole album Disco Se Aagay was recorded at Zella Recording Studios in Birmingham and engineered by Rod Brooks and Steve Harris, the later has worked with some big artists

[cephalotyrant]

Okay so... Jade and Azul swap bodies BUT Azul and Riddle are together

That goes so crazy imo

Like first of all the differences in their bodies... Azul has TWO SETS OF JAWS NOW??? and why are Jade's limbs moving on their own? This is insane!

"Azul," Jade said from this new yet all too familiar body of his, looking at his hands in incredulity. "Why exactly are my hands moving?"

His own eyes - so similar and yet so different - stared back at him.

"They have their own brains even on land," Azul said, face puckered up as he contorted his mouth awkwardly. "And you still have your pharyngeal jaw, it seems?"

This was going to be a pain, it seemed.

And then... The perception difference! Actually crazy for both of them.

"Oh, what're you gonna do after class, Azul?" A boy said. He was scared of Jade, if memory served right. Then he must've been scared of Azul as well.

Perhaps Jade would have some fun with him.

"Oh, I'd rather not say," he said. "It would certainly be... Disconcerting for you."

Perfectly frightening in its implication, and yet, the boy merely laughed.

"So you're embarrassed about it?" The boy said. "Man, I never thought you'd have a cute side like this."

Jade's eyes widened.

"P-Pardon?"

"You're stuttering, too?" The boy said like this was some overwhelm of cuteness. Jade couldn't help but be confused.

Was everything Azul did unexpectedly adorable to these people?

Meanwhile Azul in Jade's body breathes and people are like "AHHHH I'M TERRIFIED SATAN IS COMING FOR MEEEE"

Anyways on top of all this, there's Riddle and Jade isn't a boyfriend stealer so he doesn't kiss Riddle or let Riddle kiss him... Riddle is confused and mildly hurt and Jade just stares into his soul like "you shall understand in time" like some prophecy maker or smth

Anyways for the sake of the plot the curse that got cast on them implies that something bad happens if Azul or Jade tell anyone what happens

. Soooo Riddle is confused because anyone would be but then "Jade" aka Azul starts talking to him weird in class and he's like 'this is suspicious as fuck I'm going to investigate'

And then meanwhile jade is getting used to this and decides to have some fun at Azul's expense :)

"Oh, Riddle!" Azul said. "Have I ever told you of my love for karaage?"

Azul's favorite food was fried chicken? How peculiar.

"Is it, now? How unexpected," Riddle said. For some odd reason, Jade glowered at Azul.

"Pay no attention to those odd rambles," Jade said. Regardless, we really ought to-"

"You know, as a child, I used to hide in this little octopus pot! I still do now, on occasion."

Why was Azul telling him this? Was the mer not a rather secretive individual?

By now, Jade looked ready to combust. It was an odd expression.

Still, vulnerability was rare from Azul. Riddle would take advantage of it while it lasted.

"You did?" Riddle asked. "May I inquire as to why?"

"Oh, I was a rather shy child," Azul said. "Speaking of my childhood, perhaps I could show you a few photos-"

At that, Jade snapped.

"You will do no such thing!"

Anyways it's shortly after this interaction that Riddle puts two and two together and is like "yeah they swapped bodies Azul would never say that"

Time passes and they swap back... Sadly Riddle and Azul both get K.O.'d from embarrassment Azul at the shit Jade said in his body and Riddle at his own clinginess

Anyways final thing because I will never be able to resist bringing the ocs into this... Ramicruz bodyswap... How would that go :3

Don't forget that Azul has to get used to the fact that his (Jade’s) hands are totally stationary. I've already talked about him psyching himself out with the jaw but it's so funny that he feels SOMETHING foreign but it's not his silly smart tentacles, and he expects them to move and react with/alongside him only for them to stay stationary what's wrong?? then he accidentally finds the way to use the extra jaw and he does not like it... it's like manually breathing he's ALWAYS aware of it.

As for Jade...

He was aware Azul’s limbs had personal autonomy, so to speak– they would write on their own, fetched food when it was nearby and, on the rare occasion, hit things out of frustration, but this reaction wasn't any of the sort.

His hands... we're *spazzing out*– flexing so hard it hurt and jerking unnaturally– and while he was also aware that Azul's nervous system was a particularly sensitive one, he was not prepared for the immediate tears that sprung in the corner of his eyes when he failed to make them cease.

"Hm... Azul. Your hands are moving outside of my control."

However funny it was to hear Azul's voice wobble unsteadily like it just did, knowing it was himself... left things to be desired.

A different pair of hands grabs the ones he's holding out and gives them a tight *squeeze*, significantly lessening the severity of the outburst.

"You're panicking so *they're* panicking, you buffoon!"

Jade Leech had never sounded so infuriated.

"This is the first time I hear you talk about your limbs as if they were individuals."

Azul– wearing his face– turns a vicious shade of pink that does not look good on him. He attempts to push his glasses up his nose, only to nearly poke his eyes out, diverting them towards the floor. "I– I only talk to Mama and Grandmother about them, since they're– they're more experienced, all right? This is an occasion where speaking about them is essential, so I must beg you... do not bring this up at a later date. Ever."

Jade places a hand over his heart, only to immediately correct the angle, realizing it was not 'Azul' like enough. That, and the hand was still somewhat intent on disobeying.

something something the more people aware of the curse the slower it wears off there /j

any body Azul switches to is a MAJOR ass power trip bruh first Riddle now Jade. They're all terrified when he does something it's so good. he goes "Heh, heh, heh..." and the lounge all feel chills going down his spine SATAN LEECH. The only thing he dislikes is that he has to take a disgustingly *passive* approach to things. He's only now realized how often he gesticulates in conversation, posing as Jade.

For Jade, it's no big deal really. he's observed Azul and all his behaviors since middle school. acting out said behaviors should he nooo big deal... he has some bumps along the road, but thankfully, nothing that can't be excused. He is, after all, Azul Ashengrotto, and everyone knows they can get their lives ruined by Azul.

Their biggest shared hurdle being... Riddle. Azul is dating Riddle, so there's expected affection between the two of them, but Azul is in Jade's body, so he's learning WITH Riddle all day. They pick up where they left off in class and 'Jade' uses a formula that he hasn't been using up to now... when asked he's like "I observed Azul tutoring a couple of underclassmen... truly benevolent, isn't he?" Azul's ass has to fight the urge to yap all damn day he wants to talk to his boyfriend so bad to himself GODAMMIT.

ugh Riddle... Jade will totally sabotage Azul with information...

"Thank you for meeting me here."

Riddle crosses his arms, observing the mushroom patch that he was invited to this late at night. "It's no issue. It's not curfew, after all–"

Azul holds a small envelope in front of him, smile... odd. He can't seem to put his finger on it just yet, but he has no reason to suspect that whatever is being handed ot him is against the rules...

"I hope what you find in this envelope with encourage your heart to forgive me for your transgressions."

Gently, he takes it, already moving to break the seal.

"I'd advise you not open it until you make it to your dormitory. It's rather sensitive information, and I'm... embarrassed."

Riddle raises a brow. Azul does not look the least bit embarrassed, he looks *giddy*, in fact– but his curiosity only grows. He nods, and Azul moves slowly– another thing that's odd, usually, when he complied with a request of his, he'd smile, or clasp his hands together with a definitive *clap*, or–

He huffs. "Alright. Good night, Azul."

"Goodnight, Riddle."

With his back turned, he pouts. Not 'dearest'? Not any other nickname?

—

At his bedroom, he's nearly forgotten about the envelope. He's not even sure if he *wants* to open it, but ultimately, he decides to move his letter opener across the seal.

Multiple papers flutter out, and he gasps, crouching to pick them up at once. Turning the first one around, he finds himself unexpectedly face-to-face with... a picture. A boy with gray skin and wide, watery eyes, eyes so strikingly ice-blue and pale hair fixed the best it could on an environment where it floated– they were pictures of Azul as a boy. School photos, class photos, a candid where he peeked from a kitchen counter...

Riddle can't help it– it's cute! Perhaps he *could* forget about today's events...

Meanwhile, back at Octavinelle, 'Azul' smiles. It was a small price to pay, giving away some of his collection of scavenged childhood photos– but an ultimately worthwhile one.

Ramicruz body swap everything is way to sensitive for Cruz and suddenly he's very very eepy. His first course of action is to further care for Rami's skin and hair without him squirming. The feathers are alarming, and he didn't know he has THAT many... they're not just in his hair...

In Rami's case in Cruz's body... everything feels like it's been dulled. He doesn't see the big deal about the one curl in his face, though. He's totally human and weaker and it's crazy...

[krizzyrizzasian]

April 14, 2024

Sunday of Nostalgia

I started my day in a leisurely manner, scrolling through TikTok for some entertaining videos and catching up on memes on Instagram. It's always nice to unwind and enjoy some digital content to kick off the morning. After that, I made sure to check my updates on Threads, keeping myself in the loop with friends and ongoing conversations.

Next up, I started reading my finance notes to prepare for an upcoming quiz. Studying on a Sunday morning might not be everyone's ideal start, but it's important to stay on top of things. However, my focus took an unexpected turn when I stumbled upon an old video.

The video was a blast from the past – a clip of myself and an old "close" friend filming a wedding vow for a short film project. Watching it brought back a rush of memories and emotions. It's funny how a simple video can transport you back in time and make you reflect on past relationships and experiences.

In the afternoon, I had to head to city hall for an examination. I was in a hurry to get a taxi because I was going to be late, then unexpectedly someone also stopped the taxi, I didn't see who did it first, but when I looked at him, he just smiled and then said that I should go first so I thanked him. To my surprise, some of the questions were focused on Baguio City, where I've been living since 2018. Despite my time here, I realized there was much about the city I still didn't know! I couldn't help but laugh at myself for not being better prepared. Nonetheless, taking the examination was a unique experience and a reminder of the importance of being knowledgeable about our surroundings.

Overall, today was a day filled with unexpected twists and turns. From revisiting old memories to laughing at my own city-related shortcomings, every moment was a lesson in its own right. Life has a funny way of surprising us when we least expect it.

As I wrap up my Sunday, I'm reminded that each day is an opportunity for growth and discovery. Whether it's through studying, reminiscing, or facing unexpected challenges, there's always something new to learn and experience. How was your Sunday? Did you encounter any surprising moments or unexpected adventures? Share your stories with me in the comments below!

[cherhorow1tz]

My reaction to reading that Lucy was married to Robert Ferrars was almost as shocked as I would be in the passenger seat of this car. My first reaction wasn't happiness for Elinor or Edward or anyone. It was simply confusion because Lucy, what? The "suppport women's wrongs" part of me wants to applaud her for figuring out how to cheat the system so that she could have her pick of the brothers after finding out that Edward was disinherited. Part of me wishes we had some kind of showing of Lucy and Robert flirting throughout the novel so it wasn't entirely unexpected, but then again, so much of Austen seems to happen "off camera" where we're left to assume what happens. In this way, I guess it kind of makes sense because we're supposed to be caught as off guard as Elinor was. On another front, I don't know if its the Frozen mindset that wants Elinor to actually be Elsa that's making me say this, but I somewhat wanted Elinor to end the novel independent.

This meme was funny to me too becaue it's somewhat hidden in the world of Jane Austen memes. I looked up "Robert Ferrars memes" to find this and the website that came up was imgflip and the entire post has no caption, no comments, no upvotes, and less than 200 views. I'm curious where else this is posted because it's a pretty common meme format to show a character or archetype unexpectedly changing their mind.

[stasdrzewiecki]

Unexpected poster

The idea of trying to design a poster came to my mind quite unexpectedly, and only after some time i realized that actually it is a great activity to describe for CAS. How on earth spending quite a few time on doing some monotonous drawing on iPad came randomly to your mind, you might ask? The circumstances were indeed not ordinary. On Thursday evening I decided to watch the polish national team match with Faroe Islands. Unfortunately, watching this “show” haven’t been delivering any form of entertainment, as I might have expected before, so I choose not to practice my patience and physical equilibrium, and to do something simultaneously. That’s how the idea of posters came up. Since some unspecified period of time, I wanted to create some “funny-like” graphic to potentially (if my skills are good enough) print and hang up on the wall, and the occasion couldn’t have been better. Anyway, did this experience evoke any thoughts, reflections, was it anyhow beneficial in any terms (the answer is yes - otherwise I wouldn’t have been writing anything at all)?

What I learned apart from the fact that the Polish national team is unwatchable, is actually I experienced the prove of common misconception on my own. What do I mean? Attention divisibility. Several times Mr. Misza on different occasions have explained us that the brain’s ability to efficiently divide its focus and productivity on two distinct activities is often overstated. And I’ve really seen that. Even though both listening to football commentators and drawing are not activities requiring more than average brain usage, I couldn’t focus so that I know what was going on on the pitch (though in the case of the Polish team, it is quite easy to guess), and what am I designing there on the tablet. It is exceptionally fascinating to see how our surroundings “disappear” when we’re heavily concentrated on one action - the symptoms of deep focus seem to align with our body behavior while sleeping (which in fact makes logical sense).

As an evidence I can of course show you posters I've made but I don't want to public them here.