#i mean I guess if it happened twice in succession it can happen again

[piedmontcourt3]

You guys ever have a crush before wtf

[blu-oo]

Buggy was Roger’s good luck charm

So I’ve had a headcanon for a while now concerning Buggy and his place on Roger’s crew. It’s no secret that both fans and characters within the One Piece world will look at Buggy and go “How/Why the fuck were you on Roger’s crew?” Hard to say definitively whether or not Buggy actually has good luck considering the absolute hell he has to go through in order to face plant into his power/status, but you still can’t argue that he gains things he is 100% undeserving of lol. Oda’s trolling aside, let’s say that his failing upwards IS purely a result of him having his luck stats set to fucking max with a few buffs tacked on. We can even make this more fun and say the reason Buggy’s luck is so paradoxical is BECAUSE his luck goes to others instead of being reserved for himself (either that or the only reason “failure” is tacked onto this is because Buggy is a jackass and karma doesn’t sleep on her prettiest degenerates). I can see this going down a few different ways:

Maybe they were on an island along the grand line and came across a vendor selling good luck tokens. An ornate looking box catches Roger’s eye, and the vendor starts gushing about how it’s their most “luckiest item” and that it’s very VERY much worth the hefty price tag. It’s also most definitely “a worthwhile investment, trust me! It’ll all pay off in the end!” Whatever that means. Roger’s gut feeling doesn’t need to be told twice, so he buys it. This could be a moment similar to Shanks where they take the box back to the ship only for “SURPRISE! CHEST BABY!” :D to happen again. Roger is no longer allowed to go shopping/haul treasure back to the ship without Rayleigh’s stink eye supervision.

Maybe there’s something similar to the Sabaody slave market where he’s being explicitly advertised as a good luck charm. The person selling him shows off his luck by playing simple tricks (like using cards and gambling with onlookers. Look, if you’re gonna try to sell someone's luck, ya might as well make an extra buck while doing so. And hey, this just proves his good luck charm is working). While the seller is distracted, Roger easily sidels up and eyes Buggy’s mean mug. He asks if Buggy is actually lucky and gets a rudely gestured affirmative. “Great!” He says before yanking the kid up and running off laughing. Rayleigh: what the fuck is that. Roger, tankard in one hand, clown child in the other: a beer.

Maybe Roger just happens upon Buggy and and witnesses his luck in action. Sees how instant karma comes to collect after some pompous jerk spits and belittles little Buggy and immediately he’s shamed and humiliated in front of a bunch of people (in addition to Buggy pit pocketing him in retaliation). He witnesses a merchant make snide and haughty remarks and refuses to sell to Buggy because he’s a visible street rat and then immediately afterwards a flock of rabid seagulls dive bomb his stall and peck at his toupee (a piece of bread is flung and lands right before Buggy’s nose). A group of older teens beating the snot out of buggy and stealing whatever he gained that day only to then immediately run into Roger? Well. Etc. etc. etc. Roger sees all this and more and at this point he decides to take Buggy along just because of how hilarious this all is (Buggy’s eventual love for Roger and therefore his luck beginning to include Roger was just an added bonus).

And since this is such a loose concept (and ignoring that Roger was a D so the following woulda happened anyways lol) we can even say that his luck to Roger is the reason for all the success at the end of his career lol. Edd war? Buggy. Living past his initial expiration date? Buggy. Making it to laugh tale? Buggy, except wait- things didn’t go 100% to plan with that one, huh 🤔🤔🤔🤔 and guess who wasn’t there 🤨🤨🤨🤨 im playing or am i

GASP. OR MAYBE HE HAS ABSOLUTE SHIT LUCK AND HE SAPS THAT SHIT OUTTA EVERYONE AROUND HIM EXPLAINING WHY THEY ALWAYS SOMEHOW LOSE OUT IN SOME WAY INSTEAD OF HIM—

[beautifulphilosopherbird]

Dungeon Meshi rewatch ep 12 notes

Chilchuck says he's heard of people being revived from this before (does he mean just bones or just a skull or?) it's not a common thing so…

Marcille says the link between Falin's body and spirit is super weak rn (bc the worse the body is damaged, the weaker the link) so she should not be moved rn

common reason for failed resurrections is if the soul separated too far or if the body was not fully restored

Marcille suggests getting a resurrection specialist to resurrect her there

resurrections require twice the amount of calories for the damaged parts of the body (which if brought from outside would rot on the way down to the 5th floor) - so they gonna use DRAGON MEAT

I am loving the vibes Marcille gives off now that we're entering the zone of her magical expertise

dun dun dunnnn SHE'S the resurrection specialist LESGO

Senshi says "black magic" is evil and Marcille says that magic has no morality

she cuts her palm and makes a magic circle with her bloody hand on the staff

SKELETON PUZZLE TIMEEEEEE

only human souls get bound to the dungeon (so monsters can't get resurrected)

Marcille badassery time!

SUCCESS!!!

hehe some totally heterosexual bath time

Falin is feeling lots of power inside her

oh yeah and she isn't squinting anymore, so her eyesight improved too 👀

they can't use the return spell or the orc tunnels to get back to the surface (the return magic I'm guessing is bc neither Falin nor Marcille are supposed to be able to do it in their current state? not sure about the orc tunnels)

Laios says he has savings in the bank but no promissory note and it would take a month to reproduce it

Chilchuck wonders if Marciless is one of the dark elves (bc she uses forbidden magic)

she says she is looking into ways it can be used for the people

Senshi went to cook but he went to cook near the dragon and well, if he lights a fire near the fuel the dragon has stored for his fire breath… disaster

ah here we go, Falin cast the defensive magic and saved Senshi's ass (literally) but she didn't chant which means VERY POWERFUL MAGIC-ING HAPPENED

DRAGON OVEN YAY lmfao dragon pizza love it

also, poor Chilchuck throwing a fit bc Senshi cut the dragon tail (gotta thank eelo for this too bc she informed us that it can fetch a pretty price which is why he's yelling that it's wasteful)

they deffo related LOL

hahaha Chilchuck exposing Laios with Kensuke

look at the lil guy squaring up hehe

Laios gets scolded for not telling them and promises not to do it again

awww sleepover at the creepy ghost house yassss (the bit with the little girl was cute tho)

Falin also promises she won't do it again (saving Laios' ass at the expense of her own)

oh oh crazy eyes is here

ALL CAUGHT UP TO OUR WATCH PARTY WOOT!!!

manga here I come!

random screengrabs:

[visorforavisor]

warning: Good Omens series / season 2 spoilers

you have been warned

final warning okay thank you

(also Pride and Prejudice spoilers I guess if anyone still cares about that 210 years on)

·—·

they’re Pride and Prejudice, people! I’m telling you!

Aziraphale still holds onto his anti-Hell, pro-Heaven, anti-demon, pro-angel bias, his prejudice telling him that there is no “institutional problem”, that Crowley fell because he asked questions rather than because Heaven didn’t want questions asked.

Crowley refuses to let go of his pride in his identity (whether that be as one of the fallen, or as part of a side that is neither Heaven nor Hell), and go back to the Heaven that betrayed him, which he doesn’t trust not to ruin everything.

Aziraphale is Lizzy, Crowley is Darcy.

and, come on, we all know what happens in Chapter 34.

Darcy proposes to her. he talks about having tried to pretend the love is not real (“in vain I have struggled”), and asks Lizzy to marry him despite the fact that they come from two different factions who traditionally wouldn’t marry, and despite the fact that he knows she does not possess the same identity he is proud of in himself.

and Lizzy turns him down, because she’s prejudiced against Darcy’s type and this has influenced how and what she thinks about him specifically.

Darcy leaves this proposal feeling hurt, betrayed, and upset, while Lizzy is too confident that she is right in the core beliefs that influenced her decision. and they go away needing to work on themselves.

(is all of this sounding familiar?)

and then they meet again and fall in love and there’s a successful proposal etc etc.

Crowley’s pride in what he is won’t let him take Aziraphale at half quality, still part of Heaven; Aziraphale must be so exceptional as to transcend that restrictive category. an angel who would buy into that nonsense is not what Crowley stands for. he cares about people in his own, very small category: their side, which he thought included Aziraphale. those outside Crowley’s side are not to be ruining Crowley’s “precious, peaceful, fragile existence”.

meanwhile, Aziraphale’s prejudice presents him two options. either Crowley remains a demon which means he is bad, or Crowley becomes an angel again, which means he can be properly good. in the second case, Aziraphale can have him. Aziraphale can’t have Crowley if he’s bad, which he must be if he’s a demon.

there’s a subtle difference between the two.

Crowley’s tactic is more about self-preservation for his group (which would have included Aziraphale if Aziraphale’d agreed to dump Heaven for their side, just as Darcy’s remaining pride extends to protecting Lizzy when they are married (“Darcy could never receive him [Wickham] at Pemberley”)).

Aziraphale is being self-righteous for the good in the world (which he would have done for Crowley too if Crowley’d agreed to be an angel, just as Lizzy loses her shit at Darcy for not helping Wickham and all of his myriad other moral failings and then turns around and defends him once she’s convinced he’s good (“that [her dislike of him] is all to be forgot”)).

of course, this all might be an accident on the part of the writers, but then again….

Crowley and Aziraphale’s ideas to get Nina and Maggie together were sheltering from the rain, one fabulous kiss, and Pride and Prejudice.

Crowley and Aziraphale have already had their sheltering from the rain — twice, actually (at the end of the creation scene, and the end of the Eden scene). they have also had their kiss — no explanation needed.

this is their Pride and Prejudice, right down to Crowley (Darcy) protesting when a dance with Aziraphale (Lizzy) is suggested.

I could go into how Pride and Prejudice is in and of itself a Much Ado About Nothing retelling, but honestly that’s not particularly relevant, just cool. (do watch the David Tennant and Catherine Tate Much Ado, though.)

so, my hypothesis for the conclusion of a potential series 3 is as follows.

it will involve Crowley’s equivalent of “one word from you will silence me forever”: Aziraphale’s last chance to answer in the affirmative and be with him. Aziraphale will learn that Crowley is not bad simply for being a demon (I hope), and Crowley will realise Aziraphale should be let into his heart even if he wasn’t always on Crowley’s side (I hope).

Darcy / Crowley stops refusing to interact positively with anybody not in the little clique, and Lizzy / Aziraphale stops believing an entire group to be awful.

I don’t know if I have anything else coherent to say on this. something about how they have to accept the things they cannot change about the other and change the things the other cannot accept about them?

(also Gabriel could arguably be Wickham, given that Crowley tries to convince Aziraphale that Gabriel did a nasty thing and should be kept away from those he wants to keep safe but Aziraphale won’t believe Gabriel is a bad person because Gabriel isn’t one of the group he considers to be bad… I mean, it’s just their pride and their prejudice again isn’t it. whether we’re talking about Darcy, Lizzy, and Wickham, or Crowley, Aziraphale, and Gabriel.

I’m not going to follow that extension of the comparison too far, though, because I don’t think I can reasonably claim that Beelzebub is Lydia.)

concluision: I don’t care whether it’s Benedick and Beatrice, or Darcy and Lizzy, or Crowley and Aziraphale. I love all of their dynamics.

and we have amazing things to look forward to if we can convince the company to make series 3.

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Monsters of Rock 1998 Hair Metal / Hard Rock / Arena Rock /Heavy Metal / Pop-Metal

Good lord, this had to have been one of the most heavily advertised albums of all time, man. I don't know how much ad money the Razor & Tie label shelled out for all of their 'As Seen on TV' comps back in the day, but the commercials for Monsters of Rock and Monster Ballads were fucking inescapable throughout the late 90s and early 2000s, especially. Like, you'd be watching something on cable, and the commercial for this album would come on, so then you'd change the channel, and the same commercial would be playing on there too! And then you'd just force yourself to sit through it, and eventually, through repetition, the entire sequence of little song snippets that gets played throughout the ad would become a permanently etched medley inside of your goddamn mind, destined to haunt your soul for the rest of eternity:

🎶Cum on feel the noize, girls rock ya boys…my, my, my, I'm once bitten, twice shy, babe…poison!…*synths from Europe's "The Final Countdown"*…round and round, what comes around goes around, I'll tell you why…she's my cherry pie, cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise…we're not gonna take it, no! we ain't gonna take it…she's only seventeen, seventeen…here I go again on my own…I'm no fool, nobody's fool, nobody's fool…so hold on loosely…🎶

Now, the hair metal era may have been the dumbest and most ridiculous period of mainstream rock that we've ever borne witness to—and it's very difficult for me to think of another commercially successful subgenre in which rank stupidity has been such an inherently defining trait—but thanks to a combination of my own nostalgia for these damn Razor & Tie ads and my sometimes weird and ironic affinity for bad shit, after listening to this album, there is really nothing more that I want to do than hitch a ride back to 1990 so I can live out a super corny fantasy as a badass suburban high school senior who cruises through town in a boxy, red sedan with the windows down as these silly songs blare out of my speakers 😎.

But like I said, I am also under no illusion here; I'm fully cognizant of just how patently absurd so much of this music was. And when it comes to the pinnacle of pure trash, I really don't think anything ever quite managed to top Warrant's signature 1990 anthem, "Cherry Pie," which is obviously on this album. Like, have you heard or thought about this tune recently? It really might be the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history. And as the single-dumbest song that's ever been recorded in human history, it has thankfully and, I guess quite fittingly, been memorialized in some way, since…*checks notes*…you can currently go see the pizza box that its lyrics were originally transcribed on at the Hard Rock Cafe in Destin, Florida… 😭.

🎶I scream, you scream, we all scream for her Don't even try, 'cuz you can't ignore her!🎶

Also, Winger's "Seventeen." Yikes; you can probably guess what that one's about! Talk about songs that haven't aged well at all 😩:

🎶She's only seventeen (seventeen) Daddy says she's too young, but she's old enough for me🎶

Yeah… This one's catchy and all, but, um…no. 👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎👎 Really glad we've finally realized as a society that, at the very least, fully-grown adults singing lustily about minors is a very unacceptable thing to do. I mean, it took way too long for us to get here, but at least we've finally made it to this point, right? And I think "Cherry Pie" is probably about a minor too, by the way, but that's also up for debate 😑.

To be clear, though, not every song on this album is embarrassingly dumb and/or skeevy hair metal. I happen to think Living Colour's alt metal classic, "Cult of Personality," is a genuinely great banger. And I also dig the southern rock smoothness of a song like .38 Special's "Hold On Loosely" too; but most of the rest of these are just pure dunderheaded hair metal classics, and a key, overarching feature of this stuff was just how fucking maximally mindless it all was. It's hard to put a finger on what exactly allowed this madness to spread so widely and flourish for nearly a whole-ass decade in the first place, but thank goodness grunge came along when it did and dethroned this stuff from its perch as rock music's top subgenre in the early 90s, because, seriously, this shit was so excessive and outrageous.

All that being said though, and as good and necessary as grunge was back then, I can't help but imagine what a kick-ass time it would probably be to have almost any one of these Monsters of Rock songs come on at the bar while you and everyone else around you are in a highly intoxicated stupor; like, "Black Hole Sun," "Man in the Box," "Interstate Love Song," "Even Flow," etc., might be total jams in and of themselves, but songs like those are probably not gonna do the same trick as something like Alice Cooper's "Poison" can in that type of situation. I mean, when you're fully committed to annihilating some brain cells, it's good to have music that's way ahead of you in order to accompany your experience, right? 😅

Highlights:

Quiet Riot - "Cum On Feel the Noize" Great White - "Once Bitten Twice Shy" Alice Cooper - "Poison" Europe - "The Final Countdown" Ratt - "Round and Round" Warrant - "Cherry Pie" Whitesnake - "Here I Go Again" Winger - "Seventeen" Living Colour - "Cult of Personality" Twisted Sister - "We're Not Gonna Take It" Judas Priest - "You've Got Another Thing Coming" Cinderella - "Nobody's Fool" .38 Special - "Hold On Loosely" Autograph - "Turn Up the Radio"

[versegm]

You didn't think you'd see the gardens of Avalon ever again.

Though, you didn't think you'd see Avalon ever, period, because only the innocent may pass and you have long crossed that bridge. But you were wrong the first time, and it seems like you are wrong once more, waking up in a field of blooming flowers. 

This is a dream, of course. Which doesn't make it any less real, mind you (you have a hard time telling dreams and reality apart these days) but that also means that you can jump on your feet way faster than you would have when awake. Having no joint pain carrying over will do that to a man.

"Alright," you wonder out loud, "where I am?"

Surprisingly, you don't see Merlin's tower. You don't see much of anything at all, really. Flowers, flowers, a little cottage, and oh, wouldn't you guess it! More flowers.

That cottage is intriguing though, so you head that way. The closer you get, the odder it looks. It has been painted with bright colors, mirroring the flower field around it. The painter was obviously very passionate... and very unskilled. Though, to their defense, painting on walls made of literal swords slot into one another cannot be easy.

You knock, twice. At the absence of response, you open the door and walk in. Similarly, the interior was clearly decorated by someone who wanted it to be cute, but had nothing but swords to work with. There's a wardrobe (made of swords,) a kitchen table (also swords,) a bed (with, thank god, a regular mattress) and-

someone rests on that bed. They turn to look at you as you step in. Half-awake, disheveled, it takes you a second to recognize that they have your face.

"Hello!" You greet them with a smile. It's not your first time meeting another one of you. You might as well be polite. "Sorry for barging in, I-"

The figure jumps on all four, bares their teeth, and launches themself at you.

You flinch back, more by reflex than intent, barely dodging the snap of their jaws. You hurriedly step back, heartrate quickening. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You're three steps away from the door. If you throw a gandr at them, it might buy you some time-

The person tries to bite you again, snarling- only to be abruptly stopped mid-jump.

They have a collar. They have a collar, wrapped tight around their neck. They have a collar, and a leash, a thick chain keeping them tied to the bed.

They snarl at you, growl and spit like an animal, not a single word coming out of their mouth. They flail their arms wildly, trying to claw at you with long nails.

They don't reach you. A firm hand closes around your collar, and jerks you away from their reach.

"Ritsuka," speaks a soft voice, "I told you. If you want to bite, bite this."

The person who pulled you away from the mad dog extends an arm forward. Your other self wastes no time; they grab that arm, pulls it forward, and sink their teeth in the flesh. The person doesn't so much as flinch.

Instead, she turns to look at you, and smiles. "Hello to you too, Ritsuka." Says Artoria Avalon. "I'm sorry you had to see this."

You don't know what to say. You don't know how to even begin to process this. 

While you stand dumbstruck, Artoria steps forward. Your other self moves to bite her closer to the elbow. Her pale skin is littered in red teeth mark, you notice. This isn't the first time happened.

"It's okay," she says, calm as ever, as she wraps her other arm around the stranger wearing your face. "It's okay, Ritsuka. It's just me."

Her words must stir something inside of them, because they let go of her arm. There is a small, pitiful whine, and then they start licking at the bite mark.

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it." She raises a hand to pet their hair. "It doesn't hurt that much anyways. Your jaws aren't that strong, Ritsuka."

You swallow hard. "What... what happened to them?"

Artoria doesn't even turn to look at you. "Wouldn't you know best?"

You do. Of course you do. If you have learned anything from this baseball game, it's this: for every one of your success, there is a version of you who fails. This one- this is the one who chose to forget the horrors they've seen. "This is the one who chose to be an animal."

That gets Artoria to looks at you, glaring with all her might. "Don't speak of them like that. Don't speak of yourself like that." A slight pause. And then, in a calmer tone: "They're human. You're human. They just... forgot about that, for now."

"Do you think they can remember?"

"They recognize me, don't they?" And surely, they must; why else would they press themself against Artoria so? Why else would they try to soothe the bites they gave? "I found them wandering between timelines, hurt and alone. They are no longer hurt. I won't let them be alone. I will help them be human again. They will be okay. I will make sure of it."

"Do you even know what that means, to be human?" She's a fairy, and a sword, and a star so bright you want to hold her in your palms even as she burns your skin away. Doesn't she have enough of a burden to carry? Why saddle herself with you?

"I know you, if nothing else. And what are you, if not a human?"

You are unsure of many things. You don't believe that you are innocent. You don't believe that you are sane. You don't believe that you are a good person at all, really.

But human. That, yes. That, you're certain you are.

"Thank you," you tell her, on the behalf of the you who has yet to remember how to speak. "Sorry for the bites. They must hurt."

"I told you. It's alright. I don't mind." She smiles, at you, at them, at Ritsuka Fujimaru. "I am your sword. I will never let you be alone. I will never let any of you be alone, Ritsuka."

[pattdork]

Ava is suddenly really anxious to go to the Christmas dinner with all the nuns, because she knows some of them, not her close circle, liked to talk about her and Beatrice behind their back. And, apparently, someone told Beatrice that Ava has to go up to the stage at the end of the room and talk a little to the nuns.

So, Beatrice gives her a cup of ice Valerian tea to calm her nerves a little, and she finds herself chugging it and slurping happily before entering the big dinning room.

Beatrice placed her hand on her back for support and they both enter the room.

Suddenly, in the middle of their walk, all the air she took for slurping her drink comes out of her mouth, but the burp isn't alone, and all the foam starts coming out of her mouth too. So she takes the top of the cup off and let's the foam slowly pours out into the cup, while pretending this isn't happening to her by greeting everyone with a wave of her hand and a nod, hiding her face behind the cup.

Nothing can go any worse, she thinks, while walking faster to the end of the room, where she almost trips over the first step of the small stage. Reya is playing with her, and Ava isn't fan of being made a fool. Her mortification painting red her skin.

When she is sure she's stable on the stage, she turns to her audience and stands awkwardly in front of the microphone, fidgeting.

Ava a wreck: Hello...

Ava to Beatrice: what do I do?

Beatrice whispers something unintelligible.

Ava: I what. Sorry. What do I do?

Beatrice: just answer their questions.

Ava: Good. Come on! Ask questions! This is so awkward!.

Nun #20: At 21 years old, you have come back from the dead twice, and you've already vanquish one deamon, ammm, It’s awfully young to have so much success so far. Like Jesus *every Nun in the room does the sign of the cross* was far older than you when he started.

Ava * pulling a funny face *: men, right? They  mature later.

Nun #20: but, amm, my question is: are we gonna win the holy war and are you leading it?

Ava * completely caught off guard *: well, I hope so. Ammmm... Yeah, I mean. Who knows? I guess we'll see.

Nun #20: you are not worried about dying for good?

Ava * scoffs and laughs awkwardly * : well, now I am.

Ava looks at Beatrice and sees the determination on the other woman's eyes, you are not dying on me again, they say.

Based on these tiktoks of Jennifer Lawrence, because let's face it, they both have the same energy: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYpKUPCh/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYpE8AYb/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYpEyw7g/

[kjmsupremacist]

something sweet, a peach tree (mark/jaehyun)

Mark begins the summer after his junior year with an unpaid internship and no other plans. But when he agrees to go pick his baby niece up from her music lessons, her teacher, Jeong Jaehyun, catches his eye. Too bad he’s off limits, and not just because Mark’s niece is involved. Jaehyun is 41 to Mark’s 20.

To sate his curiosity about older men, Mark decides to look into becoming a sugar baby. He could use the money, after all. And he seems to find a willing patron right away. But for the first time in Mark’s like, he finds he might be in over his head.

Chapter 4   |  prev   next   mlist

Characters: Mark, Jaehyun, other members of nct throughout

Genre: romance, angst, smut, age gap, sugar daddy!au

Pairing: Mark/Jaehyun

Warnings: AGE GAP (older jaehyun, younger mark), discussions of somnophilia

Rating: Explicit

Length: 7.8k

so I fucked the dilf <;<<

Mark figures he better tell Johnny sooner rather than later, because knowing him, he’d find out somehow anyway, and at least this way he won’t be mad. 

Johnny is typing almost immediately.

>>> WHAT

>>> MARK ARE U JOKING

>>> what happened to my glucose guardian idea

>>> HOW DID THIS HAPPEN???

dude chill <;<<

wanna grab dinner tonight? <;<<

we can go to that 24 hr diner on 3rd <;<<

>>> uh yeah bc you need to explain immediately

>>> meet you at 6?

Mark likes the message and pockets his phone, getting back to work. He has to suppress a crazy smile, but he can’t really blame himself. All of this is crazy. 

“You’re fucking crazy,” Johnny says instead of saying hello when Mark strolls up to him outside the diner later that night. 

“I know,” Mark says. “But right now I’m also starving. C’mon.”

Johnny begrudgingly follows him inside and holds his tongue until the waitress takes their order. The instant she walks away, he slaps his hands on the table. 

“Okay, what the fuck is going on?”

Mark sighs out laughter. “Oh, god, Johnny, I hardly even know.” He scrubs his face with his hands, thinking. “Okay, so I did download the app, right? And I matched with this guy. And we agreed to meet for coffee this last Saturday. Only it turns out, that guy? It was fuckin’ Jaehyun. And obviously both of us were using screen names, and with sites like that, they recommend not posting a picture for, like, privacy reasons, right? So we had to figure it out right there. It was super awkward.”

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny mutters. “Wait, how the fuck is he affording that?”

“CEO of his own company, remember?” Mark says. “Apparently pretty successful. He has this sick-ass car, it’s so sexy.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Johnny says. “Okay, so you had the worst meet-cute ever at the coffee shop. And then?”

“Well, we decided to go for it anyway, ‘cause like, at least we knew we probably weren’t gonna get murdered, right? And apparently Jaehyun… liked me, too. Before all this. So.” Mark spreads his hands. “I’m fucking the DILF.”

“I—don’t even know what to say,” Johnny says. “Congratulations?” 

“Thank you,” Mark interjects smugly. 

“Be careful?” Johnny continues. “I mean, yeah, I don’t think he’s gonna murder you, but, like, if he tries to take you hiking or something, maybe just think twice.”

“Uh,” Mark says. “We’re kinda planning on hiking next weekend.”

“Christ,” Johnny groans. “Okay, just—tell me where you’re going and keep your location on, I guess.” He looks around, then leans in. “So—how was it?”

Mark rolls his eyes back, shaking his head. “Dude,” he says, and Johnny starts laughing. “Dude, dude, it was so fucking good.”

“Seriously?” Johnny cackles. “That good? Oh my god, man, okay, I mean, good for you.”

“He was so—” Mark cuts himself off as their waitress approaches. She sets their plates down in front of them. “Thanks,” Mark manages, waiting for her to leave again. They both dissolve into muffled laughter once she disappears behind the kitchen doors. 

“Oh, fuck,” Johnny says. “Okay, yeah? He was so what?”

“Perfect,” Mark mumbles, cutting into his pancakes. “He has an incredible body. I hope I look like that when I’m forty.” He takes a bite of pancake, chewing quickly so he can keep talking. “And he has two dogs, and a pool in his backyard, and a fridge stocked with beer.”

“What kind of… payment is he giving you?” Johnny asks around a bite of omelette. 

Mark shakes his head sheepishly. “I told him not to worry about it.” Johnny’s eyes bug out of his head. “I mean, I feel weird about it, you know?” Mark defends quickly. “I know him. He teaches Lucy! I can’t accept—an allowance from him. Besides, he’s so hot that it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, so you’ll fuck your niece’s music teacher, but you draw the line at accepting money from him?” Johnny points a hot-sauce-covered fork at Mark. “You’re being stupid.”

“He pays for all our meals together, and he said he’d buy my groceries,” Mark says. “I just can’t imagine getting a—a bank transfer from Jaehyun, that’s all.”

“Missed opportunity, ‘s’all I’m saying,” Johnny says. 

Mark just shakes his head. He thinks back to the weekend, back to fucking Jaehyun poolside just the afternoon before. He doesn’t think he’s missing out on anything.

* * *

Tuesday Mark has to stay late again, so Annie picks Lucy up instead. Mark’s torn between relief and disappointment—on the one hand, it’s probably good to give him and Jaehyun a little more time to cool off before they have to act normal together in public, but on the other, Mark misses him and wants to see him. He texts Jaehyun to let him know ahead of time; Jaehyun replies with a sad face.

But Thursday rolls around, and Mark is released from unpaid labor hell on time, so he makes his way over to the music academy. 

Mark files in with the parents, but Lucy wants to finish playing some kind of game at the piano with one of her classmates, so he hovers awkwardly by the wall as the classroom empties. Jaehyun’s been talking to the parents, but Mark feels him looking at him out of the corner of his eye, just as Mark is. Eventually, Jaehyun manages to peel himself away and strolls over to Mark.

“Hi,” Mark says quietly when Jaehyun gets close. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun replies. They both watch Lucy and her friend for a moment, silent. “How are you?” Jaehyun asks. 

“Good, I’m good,” Mark says. He kind of wants to scream, or burst out laughing. The whole thing is just ridiculous. “How are you?”

“Also good,” Jaehyun replies. Mark can hear the same barely-controlled mirth lurking beneath his voice. “Missed you Tuesday.”

“Yeah, you know, my fuckin’ boss,” Mark sighs. 

“Well, one more day,” Jaehyun says. “At least you have a fun weekend to look forward to.”

Mark looks up, finally meeting Jaehyun’s eyes. “Yes, I do,” he says softly, grinning. Jaehyun smiles back. 

“Mark-samchon, I won, I won!” Lucy comes bouncing up, tugging at Mark’s pant leg. 

“This time,” her friend says, but he’s grinning, too. 

“Congratulations,” Mark says to her. “Did you tell your friend good game?”

“Oh!” Lucy whirls, offering her tiny hand to her friend. “Good game, Teddy!” They shake clumsily, breaking out into giggles.

“Alright, let’s get home before your Eomma and Appa start to worry,” Mark says, smoothing Lucy’s hair and giving Teddy’s dad a friendly smile before turning back to Jaehyun. “Thanks, Jaehyun. See you next week! Say bye, Lucy.”

“Bye, bye, bye!” Lucy chirps, taking Mark’s hand and following him out of the classroom. When Mark passes by the window, he catches Jaehyun’s eye and sees that he’s still smiling.

Friday is excruciating, especially because Mark’s boss is the kind of guy who believes everyone should live to work, so the minutes scrape by even slower than usual. But at last Mark is free to go, right at five o’clock sharp, and he can go agonize over what to pack. 

One hour later sees Mark heading out onto the sidewalk with a small duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He slides it into the backseat of Jaehyun’s (stupid sexy) car, then plops down into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind him. 

“Hi baby,” Jaehyun says while Mark works on his seatbelt. He’s in a t-shirt and shorts, shades on and bangs swept off his forehead. Mark swallows roughly, missing the latch of the seatbelt. “How was work?”

“Awful,” Mark groans. He finally gets the seatbelt to click into place. “It’s like they wanna suck out your whole soul before you even get to try the parts of work that can actually be kinda fun or rewarding or whatever.”

Jaehyun hums sympathetically as he pulls off the curb. “Yeah, being an intern is no fun,” he agrees. “But it’s not forever.”

“I keep trying to tell myself that,” Mark mumbles.

Jaehyun takes one hand off the wheel and reaches for one of Mark’s. “Okay, no work talk. What do you want for dinner?”

“Ooh,” Mark says, taking Jaehyun’s offered hand gratefully. He hesitates, then brings it up to his lips for a swift kiss brushed across the knuckles. “Umm, I dunno, I’m kind of in the mood for shitty, greasy American food.”

“I have to agree,” Jaehyun says. He thinks for a moment, then glances at Mark out of the corner of his eye. “Ever been to Dick’s?”

Dick’s Drive-In is a local chain in the Seattle area, a sort of hidden gem. College students love it because it’s fast, cheap, and easy. “Oh, I could kill like three special cheeseburgers right now,” Mark agrees. “Yeah, let’s go to Dick’s.”

They order four burgers (three for Mark, like he said; one for Jaehyun), three fries, a chocolate shake (Jaehyun), and a scoop of rocky road ice cream (Mark) and continue the drive home. Mark works on his ice cream before it melts and feeds Jaehyun fries at stoplights so he doesn’t get the steering wheel oily. 

When they finally get back to Jaehyun’s, the sun is just starting to set. Mark grabs the food and carries it up the front walk while Jaehyun takes his bag for him. 

The dogs dance around Mark’s ankles as he carefully picks his way over to the kitchen and deposits their food safely onto the table in the breakfast nook. “Hi guys,” he says, bending down to give them attention once his hands are free. “I think you’re just excited because I smell like burgers, but I’ll take it.”

Jaehyun comes in and lovingly shoos the dogs out of the way. “You guys have your own food. If I give you a bite of all my meals, I’ll never eat in peace again.”

Mark’s already unwrapping his first burger, ice cream finished and container in the trash. “God, I love Dick's,” he mumbles. Jaehyun snorts. “Oh, shut up. You’re supposed to be the mature one!” 

“Sorry,” Jaehyun says, but he’s laughing. 

“Also, fuck you, it’s true. I love Dick’s, and I love dicks. That shouldn’t be a surprise,” Mark mutters. This just makes Jaehyun laugh harder. “Jesus.”

They finish dinner pretty quick. Mark balks at the way Jaehyun eats his fries—dipped in his shake, instead of with ketchup like a normal person. Jaehyun coaxes him to try it, and Mark begrudgingly admits it’s pretty good.

“Well,” Jaehyun says once they’ve cleaned up. “What now?”

Mark glances outside. It’s still a little light out, and they probably won’t get eaten alive by bugs. “Can we take a dip?” he suggests. “We’re gonna be tired tomorrow, and it’s supposed to be kinda cold Sunday.”

Jaehyun nods. “Of course. You packed swim trunks?”

“Yep!” Mark packed two pairs, just in case. 

They get changed and head out onto the patio. The sky is a beautiful red; they probably have an hour before the light dies in the horizon. Plenty of time to swim and fuck around. 

Jaehyun climbs down the ladder at the deep end; Mark just slips in over the edge. He plunges himself underwater completely, then resurfaces, combing his hair out of his eyes. As soon as he’s got his eyes open, Jaehyun splashes him right in the face. 

“Hey!” Mark splutters, blindly splashing him back. 

A heated water fight ensues, the two of them chasing each other around, fingers slipping over wrists, legs thrashing, until finally Mark gets Jaehyun pinned up against the wall, hands tight around his biceps. They quiet, catching their breath, watching each other. 

“Gonna let me go?” Jaehyun asks. He wriggles in Mark’s grip, but Mark doesn’t relent. “What do you want?”

“Oh,” Mark says nonchalantly. “I think you know what I want.”

Understanding dawns, and with it, a dark mischief. “Ah,” Jaehyun says, one corner of his mouth tugging up in a knowing smirk. “Yeah, I think I do.” Mark feels one of his arms shift under his palm, and then Jaehyun’s hand closes around Mark’s cock. 

Mark swallows a noise of surprise, instead leaning closer and kissing Jaehyun. He releases Jaehyun’s arm so he can reach between their bodies and return the favor. Jaehyun’s whole body twitches when Mark touches him, and Mark presses closer. It makes it harder for them to touch each other, but he doesn’t really care. He wants to feel Jaehyun’s body against his, his heartbeat to Mark’s heartbeat. 

Mark breaks the kiss so he can mouth over Jaehyun’s pulse point and the pretty column of his throat. Jaehyun’s already panting above him, bits of his voice bleeding into his breath. “Missed you,” Mark murmurs. “Thought about you every night, you know.” He nips at the skin over Jaehyun’s collarbone. “Never come so hard all by myself in my life, ‘m so serious.”

“You came to the thought of me?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” Mark says. “Why, haven’t you thought about me?”

“I have, I mean—I wanted to,” Jaehyun says. “But I couldn’t—I knew it wouldn’t feel as good. So I didn’t. I wanted you.”

“Oh,” Mark whispers. It’s actually a very sweet confession. “Well, I’m right here. How do you want me?”

Jaehyun takes a moment to contemplate it, rolling his hips up into Mark’s fist before gently pushing him away. “Get up on the edge of the pool.”

“Huh?” Mark’s taken aback, but he does as he’s told, wading around Jaehyun and pushing himself up so he’s sitting with his knees bent over the ledge. The air is still warm, so he doesn’t even feel a chill. 

Jaehyun walks up to him, spreading his legs with a firm hand on each thigh. “I wanna blow you,” he explains, like it’s obvious. “Figured this way would be the easiest on my knees.”

Mark coughs out laughter. “I mean, I’m not gonna stop you,” he says, leaning back on his hands.

Jaehyun responds by simply reaching for his waistband, tugging it down just enough to free Mark’s cock, already hard from their shenanigans in the pool. Mark scoots a little closer to the edge so it’s easier for Jaehyun to reach. Jaehyun strokes him a couple times, and then drops his jaw open and sinks down.

Mark drops his head back, moaning openmouthed and unabashed. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he mumbles. Jaehyun bobs his head once, twice, then takes him deeper, hollowing his cheeks. “Shit, Jaehyun, you’re good at this. Guess—guess you’ve had plenty of time to practice. Oh god.” 

Mark’s mouth always gets ahead of him when he’s fucking. It’s kind of something he’s just accepted. But it’s never as bad as when he’s getting sucked off. He’s not sure why—maybe it’s because all he has to do is sit there, so it’s not like he has anything to distract him. He rolls his head to the side, half resting it on his shoulder and looking down at Jaehyun, nestled between his legs. 

“Mm,” he hums, crossing his ankles behind Jaehyun’s back and bringing him closer. “You look so pretty, hyung.” Jaehyun moans around him, and the vibrations from his voice have Mark curling forward, palms lifting off the concrete. “Jesus,” he mutters, settling back but letting his head hang, chin almost touching his chest, watching Jaehyun through his eyelashes. He’s gagging softly with each stroke; not enough that Mark is worried, but enough for thick saliva to drip down the length of Mark’s cock, getting both of them wet and messy. 

Jaehyun speeds up a little, and Mark can’t help the choked out noises of pleasure that force their way up his throat. He leans forward, threading the fingers of one hand through Jaehyun’s hair. He doesn’t pull, just lets his hand move with Jaehyun’s head, eyes half-lidded as he follows Jaehyun’s mouth. His body hardly feels like his, completely at Jaehyun’s mercy. Mark doesn’t mind one bit. 

He knows no one can see them. All the properties out here are built for privacy. But still, in the gathering dark, it’s not as obvious that they’re utterly alone. Mark moans quietly, imagining how they would look to an outsider. Jaehyun, head buried in Mark’s crotch, and Mark, legs spread and arms shaking. He feels dirty in the best way, depraved and free, and he accidentally thrusts up into Jaehyun’s mouth.

“Fuck, sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he stutters when Jaehyun gags hard. “Didn’t mean to, just felt so good, I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun shakes his head slightly, humming his forgiveness. He does shift his hands to Mark’s hips and holds him down, which honestly only turns Mark on more. Mark’s hands slip down to grip the edge of the pool, knuckles white and palms scraping against the rough surface. 

He’s surprised to find that he’s already close. He wasn’t joking when he said every night, so he shouldn’t be pent up, but somehow it feels like it anyway. Maybe it’s just that Mark is kind of obsessed with Jaehyun, and being around him dials all of Mark’s senses to ten.

“Jaehyun,” he chokes out. “I’m close, I’m gonna—can I—will you—?”

Jaehyun understands. He blinks up at Mark, nodding slightly, rubbing a soft circle into Mark’s hipbone, silent permission. Mark gasps through a few more breaths before finally coming, hard, the pads of his fingers getting a little scraped up from the rough surface of the pool’s edge as he scrabbles weakly. He realizes only faintly that he’s letting out a string of incoherent noises, the rushing in his ears so loud he can’t hear anything else.

Jaehyun pulls off after Mark slumps back, spent, with a wet pop. He tucks Mark back into his shorts and reaches out to him. “Come back in, it’s getting cold.”

“What about you?” Mark asks hazily, slipping back into the pool and snaking his heavy arms around Jaehyun’s waist. 

Jaehyun doesn’t reply, just kisses him, soft and slow. Mark melts into it, letting Jaehyun guide him. “Me?” Jaehyun hums when they break apart. “Well, it’s getting dark. If we’re going to do anything, we should head back inside.”

“Sure,” Mark agrees, kissing the point of Jaehyun’s jaw and reluctantly letting him go so they can wade over to the other side and get out. “I’m getting pruney anyway.”

“Oh, very sexy,” Jaehyun says sarcastically as he walks up the steps at the shallow end, grinning over his shoulder at Mark. 

“You don’t think my wrinkly raisin toes are hot?” Mark replies, nearly toppling himself kicking one of his feet up to show, following Jaehyun out of the pool.

“Sorry, baby,” Jaehyun says, voice dripping fake sympathy. “I’m just not into feet. Catch.” He tosses Mark a towel. 

They towel off and head inside. Jaehyun lets the dogs out briefly in hopes they’ll be fine for the rest of the night, and then he and Mark make their way upstairs. Mark’s whole body feels waterlogged, some mix of the swimming and the best head he’s ever received in his life, so each step feels like trying to drag a stack of cinderblocks uphill. 

“Tired?” Jaehyun asks, waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Mark nods with a sheepish grin. “If you’re too tired, that’s okay. For me, I mean.”

Mark shakes his head vehemently. “No, I’m definitely fucking you whenever you let me, so.” 

Jaehyun laughs, pink blush blooming on his cheeks. “Okay,” he agrees.

They both begrudgingly admit they should wash the chlorine off before rolling into bed, so Mark lags behind, digging into his bag to find clean underwear and his facewash before following Jaehyun into the bathroom. 

Jaehyun’s rinsing off his toothbrush when Mark enters, bent over the sink with his drying hair falling into his eyes. Mark puts his things down on the counter and sidles up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist, one hand sneaking up to his chest, and presses his lips to his spine. 

“Hi,” Jaehyun says softly. The only thing that betrays his surprise is the quickening of his heartbeat, just barely noticeable under Mark’s fingertips.

“Hey,” Mark says into his skin. Another kiss. “Hyung.” He peeks around Jaehyun’s shoulder to meet his eyes in the mirror.

“Thought we were showering.” Jaehyun raises his eyebrows.

“If you think about it, it makes more sense if I fuck you now,” Mark says. “Otherwise we’ll have to clean up again.”

Jaehyun’s amusement manifests in a crease between his brows and the narrowing of his eyes. “That does make sense,” he says.

Mark grins shyly. “Plus,” he adds, placing one last kiss between Jaehyun’s shoulder blades before turning to head back into the bedroom, “I want you to watch in the mirror.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun says, his voice suddenly weak. Mark hides laughter as he hurries to find the lube and a condom.

Jaehyun has stepped out of his swim trunks and kicked them aside by the time Mark returns, centering himself between the two sinks so he’ll have a flat surface to rest his head. Mark sets the condom on the counter and runs a hand down Jaehyun’s spine, watching him shiver. He pulls away to pump some lube out on his palm, spreading it briefly before he moves his hand around Jaehyun’s waist and lets it roam downwards, moving in close so Jaehyun’s trapped between him and the counter, and ghosts his palm over Jaehyun’s cock. Jaehyun’s hips twitch in response, and Mark laughs softly.

“Mark,” Jaehyun complains, quiet.

“Mm, I shouldn’t be mean, right?” Mark hums. He still doesn’t quite touch him. “Shouldn’t be mean to my lovely hyung, who just choked on my cock in the pool, who hasn’t come all week because he was waiting for me.”

“Mark.” It’s more insistent this time, and Mark relents, wrapping his hand around Jaehyun’s cock and stroking him slowly. Jaehyun blinks rapidly, taking a deep breath, his eyelashes fluttering.

“Pretty,” Mark murmurs, the word escaping before he can stop it. Jaehyun’s cheeks are rosy pink, though, so maybe it doesn’t matter. He leans back against Mark; Mark fits his other hand between them to push against his lower back instead of letting him rest his weight against Mark’s body. “Wrong way, hyung,” he says. “Bend over.”

He guides Jaehyun down. To Mark’s surprise, Jaehyun doesn’t pillow his face in his arms. Instead, he grips the edge of the counter with his hands and lays his cheek right on the bare marble, blinking up at Mark’s reflection.

“Like this?” he whispers, and Mark swallows dryly.

“Fuck, yeah, like that,” he croaks out.

Mark fingers him open, one hand on his cock and the other pushing one, two, three fingers inside, watching as Jaehyun’s face contorts with pain and then pleasure, his soft moans echoing off the tile. Mark murmurs praise, voice shaking a little in anticipation by the time they’re almost done. There’s a fog of condensation on the counter next to Jaehyun’s mouth, his breath hot and wanting.

Finally, Jaehyun’s loose enough that Mark’s impatience wins over. His fingers are messy, so he tears the condom open with his teeth, discarding the wrapper on the counter and shimmying out of his shorts, sliding them across the floor with a push from his toes so they’re out of the way. Jaehyun watches him in the mirror, blinking slowly, his eyes dark. When Mark catches him looking, he smiles.

“You just came, and you’re already so worked up again, baby,” he says softly.

“Your fault,” Mark accuses, lining himself up with Jaehyun’s entrance.

Lines appear on Jaehyun’s cheeks and next to the corners of his eyes as his smile grows. “I’m flattered, then.”

Mark presses a flat hand to Jaehyun’s lower back, holding him in place as he guides himself in. “Ah, shit.” He lets out a soft hiss of pleasure. “Always so tight, hyung, no matter how long I take to open you up. Oh, fuck yes.” He bends over Jaehyun as he bottoms out, placing reverent kisses down his spine. “So good.” He can feel the heat of his own breath against Jaehyun’s skin when he moans, can hear his heart hammering in his ears. It’s a very good thing Jaehyun already made him come tonight. Somehow, in the week since Mark last fucked Jaehyun, he’d managed to forget just how fucking good he feels, hot and tight and wet around him, better than anything else he’s ever had. 

It doesn’t take Jaehyun too long to adjust, and soon Mark is thrusting in and out at an even pace, careful not to go too hard so the edge of the counter doesn’t drive painfully into Jaehyun’s hips. There’s something about this, too—claiming another space of Jaehyun’s house. Every time Jaehyun looks in his mirror, he’ll remember tonight, remember Mark calling him hyung, bending him over the counter, and fucking him until he comes. There’s a possessive part of Mark that takes great pleasure in the thought. Mark is going to leave pieces of himself in this house, plenty for Jaehyun to remember him by when they’re apart. 

“Faster,” Jaehyun pants, meeting Mark’s eyes in the mirror. “Deeper. You know how I like it.”

Mark complies, rolling his hips in deep and then snapping them back fast. The movement punches a sweet moan out of Jaehyun, and the sound makes heat curl in Mark’s belly. “Better?” he stutters.

“Hn, a little slower, just a little,” Jaehyun replies, forcing his drooping eyelids open again so he can hold Mark’s gaze. Mark slows a little, that familiar desperation to please him, to be perfect, flooding his veins. “Yeah, right there,” Jaehyun murmurs after a moment. “Fuck, yes.”

Mark groans, low vibrations in his chest. “Good?” Jaehyun nods wordlessly. “Am I good, hyung?”

“Perfect, baby boy,” Jaehyun replies. 

Mark fucks him just like that, clenching his jaw against his rising arousal so he can focus on keeping the right rhythm. Jaehyun gasps prettily when he thrusts in and lets out the sweetest moans every time he pulls out, the head of his cock just catching on Jaehyun’s rim before he pushes back in again. 

“This is what I meant,” Mark says, words blurring in his clumsy mouth. “Don’t care what you say. You’re cute when you’re getting fucked, hyung, so beautiful, look at yourself.”

He sees Jaehyun looking, and hopes he can see what Mark sees. Dark lashes framing deep brown eyes, brows pinched; a soft pink mouth, parted to reveal perfect teeth and a cute tongue; hair slicked off his forehead from their time in the pool, brown with just a few strands of silver showing through, almost like highlights. His shoulders broad and glistening with a thin layer of sweat, his back made of ridges of muscle, narrowing into a slim waist. Like a perfectly-shaped Greek hero, half-divine.

Mark reaches down and wraps his hand around Jaehyun’s cock again. Jaehyun keens at his touch, hips spasming before settling again. Mark laughs. “Still sensitive,” he says softly. He thumbs over the slit, then strokes him in time with his thrusts, keeping his pace steady so he doesn’t overwhelm Jaehyun.

“M-mark.” Jaehyun’s hands slip and Mark can see a red imprint from the edge of the counter. “Oh, fuck, that’s so good, baby, you’re gonna make me come, please.”

“Please what?” Mark asks. “What do you want?”

“Harder,” Jaehyun demands. 

Mark moans low, pushing into him deep and rough. He’s been waiting to let go a little, and now he can, shoving Jaehyun up against the counter with every thrust. Jaehyun flings an arm out, bracing his palm against the mirror with a cry. 

“Yes, yes,” he mumbles. “Unh, baby, fuck, keep going—” His breath hitches over another moan. Mark’s vision narrows just to Jaehyun; he hardly even sees the room around them. Fatigue is setting in, but he can barely feel it, because Jaehyun feels so good around him and his voice is perfect and his pretty, pretty face is scrunched up in pleasure, and—

Mark feels hot come shoot out over his fingers. Jaehyun’s whole body shakes, and Mark forces himself to slow a little, to drag out Jaehyun’s orgasm and make it good for him. He was on the edge, but he can wait. He can do anything, he’s pretty sure, if it’s for Jaehyun.

Eventually, he stops once Jaehyun is spent, releasing him and pulling out so Jaehyun can move. It takes him a second, but Jaehyun pushes himself off the counter on slightly unsteady arms and turns to find Mark.

“Come here, baby,” he murmurs, taking Mark’s face in his hands, bringing him close, and kissing him. His chest is still heaving; Mark can feel the tremors of weak aftershocks running through his body. “Always make me feel so good.”

“Got it all over your cabinets,” Mark mumbles, looking over his shoulder to see the mess dripping down the glossy finish on the wood. Jaehyun kisses him again, laughing, but Mark’s too hard for anything to be funny, and pulls himself away. “Need t’ come, hyung, please. I’ll do anything, just touch me.” Jaehyun hums, cocking his head to the side. “I’d even lick it up, if you asked me, I’m serious.”

Jaehyun grins. “As much as I would like to see that,” he says, “I’m a little worried you’d get a splinter. I’ll take care of you, baby, c’mere.”

Mark steps closer and Jaehyun rolls the condom off his cock and then brings Mark’s soiled hand to his, swiping up his own come with a couple fingers and spreading it on Mark’s cock instead so there’s not too much friction. He ducks his head and kisses Mark again, almost lazy, his tongue running over Mark’s lower lip as he jerks Mark off, letting Mark roll his hips into his fist.

Mark comes like that, with his cock in Jaehyun’s fist and Jaehyun’s tongue in his mouth, Jaehyun’s smell smothering everything else. He moans pathetically as he feels himself finally release, covering Jaehyun’s knuckles with come, some of it dripping onto the floor.

“That’s it, baby,” Jaehyun murmurs, dipping down to nip at Mark’s jaw and neck. “Such a good boy.”

He shoos Mark into the shower once they’re sure Mark isn’t going to topple over from exhaustion, and then cleans up the cabinets and the floor before joining him. He washes some sudsy shampoo off Mark’s forehead before it can run into his eyes, watching him fondly.

“You know,” he says. “We should both go get tested so we don’t have to use the condoms anymore.” Mark blinks, struggling to register the words. “I want to feel it when you come. I like it messy. I think you do, too.”

Mark groans, leaning in to bite Jaehyun’s chest in retaliation—not too hard, but enough to make him squeak indignantly. “Hyung, if you keep talking, I’m gonna fuck you again, right now.”

“Rich coming from someone who’s about one second away from passing out,” Jaehyun replies calmly, steading Mark when he sways under the water.

Mark can’t even argue with that one, his eyes fluttering shut. “Y’got me there.”

* * *

Jaehyun somehow gets up without disturbing Mark the next morning, and comes to grab him only when the car is all packed and they’re almost ready to go. 

“I would’ve helped!” Mark protests, scrambling out of bed. 

“I don’t mind,” Jaehyun says. “You need the sleep more than I do.”

Mark gets changed and they pile into the car with the dogs. They stop at a cafe on the way out of the city, picking up breakfast to eat on the way and sandwiches to bring with them on their hike. Jaehyun throws them in with the ice packs he put in a little insulated lunch bag.

They get to the trailhead within an hour, the drive easy along the open highway. 

“Is it a hard hike?” Mark asks as he slathers sunscreen onto his arms. 

“It’s not too bad,” Jaehyun says. 

It turns out to be a little steep in places—Jaehyun ends up having to carry Bobby most of the way—but it’s a good, easy workout, and not too miserable since the trail is well-shaded. They make it to the top in about two hours, and they only pass a couple people on the way. 

There’s a small, gentle waterfall on the opposite side of the clearing that spills into a swimming hole before the river continues downward, sparkling clean and inviting in the early afternoon sun. Jaehyun releases the dogs to the water, then helps Mark unpack their lunches on a nearby rock.

“It’s beautiful,” Mark says. “I’m surprised we’re alone.”

“It’s not as well known as a lot of the other hikes around here,” Jaehyun says with a shrug. “And I guess next week is the Fourth, so maybe people are out of town.”

“Right, it’s fucking July,” Mark mumbles, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

Jaehyun laughs. “Yeah,” he says. “When does school start?”

“August twenty-eight,” Mark replies. “Which isn’t soon, but it’s also not, like, not soon.”

Jaehyun hands him his sandwich. “You have plenty of summer left,” he says gently. And then— “You’ve been seeing your friends, too, right? Not just me?”

“Yeah!” Mark confirms, taking the sandwich. “Most of them are out of town, but I’m seeing the ones that are here.” He grins at Jaehyun. “Don’t worry, I’m not that obsessed with you.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

Once they’re done eating, they pack up their trash and then head to the water, shirts discarded on a log, socks stuffed into their shoes. Mark sits under the waterfall for a while, relishing in the cold, while Jaehyun plays fetch with the dogs. After a while, he ties them up away from the edge so they’re safe, putting out a bowl of water for them and feeding them treats, then wades back in. 

“Come out from there,” he calls to Mark. “You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Mark shakes his head, but he obeys, pushing away from the rocks and paddling out to the center where Jaehyun is treading water. 

“Thanks for bringing me here,” he says quietly. “It’s beautiful.”

Jaehyun reaches out for him, grabs his wrist. “Of course,” he says. “I’m sharing nice things with you. Isn’t that what a sugar daddy is supposed to do?”

"Ugh,” Mark groans, tipping his head back, face scrunched up in embarrassment. 

Jaehyun laughs brightly, pulling him close. “Look at me, baby,” he says. 

Mark looks, and Jaehyun kisses him. It’s sweet and soft, no heat behind it, no agenda. Just a kiss. Mark smiles against his lips. 

They stay in the water for a while, floating around, staying close, exchanging chaste kisses and poking each other when they get bored. The dogs rest in the shade. Here, in the quiet tranquil of the pond, the rest of Mark’s life seems so far away. He could stay here forever, he thinks, watching Jaehyun, soothed by the cool water lapping at his skin. He wouldn’t mind. 

But soon, Jaehyun insists they get going. “I’d rather drive home before the sun starts setting,” he says, even though it’s hardly even three. But Mark doesn’t protest. Jaehyun hands him a towel he apparently packed, and they get their shoes back on, though they both decide to just leave their shirts off for the hike down. Mark trips over rocks and roots staring at Jaehyun’s back. 

The drive back is peaceful, not too many cars on the road, the evening still young. 

“So, next weekend, I was thinking—maybe I could take you out to dinner,” Jaehyun says nonchalantly. “Like, fancy dinner. There’s a place I like downtown. They can usually get me a reservation on short notice—I taught the owner’s daughter.”

Mark blinks. “Oh, sure!” he says. “I mean, I’d love that. You think it’ll be… okay?”

Jaehyun glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, I doubt we’ll see anyone we know there. And… if anyone asks, you’re a family friend. I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

Mark nods, reassured. “Okay. But, uh—how fancy?”

“You’ll probably want a suit, and maybe some nice shoes, but you don’t have to wear a tie or anything.”

“I don’t have a suit,” Mark admits weakly. “The last time I needed one was for formals in high school. I have, like, a suit jacket I wear for interviews but I usually just pair it with khakis or something.”

But Jaehyun just smiles. “I’ll take your measurements when we get home, and pick something out for you, okay?” When Mark hesitates, he adds, “I would take you shopping, but I think that might be a little suspicious.”

“It’s not that,” Mark says, fidgeting. “You really don’t have to spend money on me. It’s okay. I’ll like you just the same if you don’t.”

Jaehyun reaches one hand over and rests it on Mark’s knee. “It’s really not a lot to me,” he says softly. “And I told you, I like it.”

Mark finds himself growing warm; he peeks up at Jaehyun, but Jaehyun’s eyes are still on the road. “Okay, if you’re sure,” he says meekly. “I mean, I really appreciate it. I’m just saying you don’t have to.”

Jaehyun runs his thumb back and forth over the top of Mark’s thigh. “I know,” he says. 

The rest of the ride is quiet, mostly meaningless small talk until they pull into Jaehyun’s driveway. They unload the car, and Mark helps put things away while Jaehyun takes care of the dogs. The sky is just turning from blue to pink when they finally settle in the kitchen for a quick dinner.

Jaehyun has some pre-made stew mixes that he heats on the stove. It’s a comforting meal, good for their tired bodies. They eat in exhausted silence and clean up together, then finally traipse upstairs.

In the shower, they take turns shampooing each other’s hair. Mark’s hands are a little clumsy, but Jaehyun doesn’t complain, even though he just gave Mark a killer scalp massage. Part of the clumsiness might be because Mark can’t stop staring at Jaehyun’s body, but—really, who can blame him? He can feel heat rising to his cheeks, desire stirring in his stomach. He hopes Jaehyun will say yes. 

Jaehyun indulges Mark in little kisses as they rinse off, only prying himself away once they’re done so he can step out of the shower and grab his towel. Mark follows closely, unsure how to voice what he wants. He’s tired; they both are, but he still wants to have Jaehyun, can’t deny the feeling in his gut.

Mark sticks close to his side while they pat in their lotion, elbow knocking against Jaehyun’s. Jaehyun glances at him in the mirror.

“You’re being quiet,” he says. “What is it?”

Mark watches his own eyes widen in surprise. “Um,” he says.

Jaehyun turns to him, taking his wrist and making Mark turn, too. “Baby,” he says softly, stepping closer. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, but do you think I can’t tell when you want something?” He brings Mark’s hand up, flips it over, and kisses his palm.

“I wanna fuck you,” Mark mumbles. “Please.”

Jaehyun releases Mark’s hand back to his side with a smile. “But I’m tired,” he says. “And so are you.” But he leans in and kisses Mark all the same, one hand cupping his jaw. Mark wants to protest, but Jaehyun kisses so nice. It’s hard for him to pull away.

“Please, hyung,” he manages eventually. “You—you won’t have to do anything. I just want to feel you around me, that’s all I need. I won’t even move, I promise.” He blinks up at Jaehyun, earnest. “I could come just from that, I could.”

A smirk twitches at the corner of Jaehyun’s lips. “I suppose,” he says. “C’mon.” He turns and heads into the bedroom, scooping up the lube from the counter where they left it the night before.

They didn’t turn on the lights when they first came in since the sky was still light, and now, the dim glow is perfect. Jaehyun crawls into bed, leaving the shades open, and Mark follows him, a sort of excited energy thrumming under his skin. 

Jaehyun holds his arms out to him, and Mark clambers into them, kissing clumsily at his neck and chest, running his fingers over his ribs, his waist. “Sorry ‘m so needy,” he says, though he has a feeling Jaehyun likes it.

He’s right. Jaehyun smooths his hair back, off his forehead. “It’s okay,” he says. “Means you want me. I think I can live with that.”

Mark grins as he shuffles backwards down the mattress so he can reach Jaehyun’s entrance, spreading his legs. “Lube?”

He opens him up nice and slow, careful not to push it. He said Jaehyun wouldn’t have to do anything; he meant it. He stretches Jaehyun one finger at a time, making sure he’s nice and loose before moving on to the next and using a little more lube than is probably strictly necessary.

“Being so gentle,” Jaehyun says.

“Only wanna make you feel good,” Mark replies, and Jaehyun gives him a fond smile.

When he’s finally ready, Mark has Jaehyun roll into his side, then slips in behind him, pulling the covers up on top of them before the A/C makes them too cold. He fumbles with the condom for a second, finally rolling it on, and presses his tip to Jaehyun’s entrance.

“Ready?” he murmurs, lips brushing Jaehyun’s skin.

“Mm-hm,” Jaehyun breathes.

Mark pushes in, and can’t quiet an almost relieved moan. It’s like his body just misses Jaehyun’s, all the time. He mouths over Jaehyun’s spine, one hand holding his hip as he sinks all the way in and bottoms out. “Mm, hyung, thank you,” he slurs, pressing wet kisses to his back and the nape of his neck.

“Feel full,” Jaehyun sighs. “Feels good.”

They settle like that, one of Mark’s arms outstretched under the pillow, the other curled around Jaehyun’s waist so he can get a hand on Jaehyun’s cock, stroking slowly, both of them quiet as they adjust to the feeling of being so connected. The sun sets, the sky now just barely orange at the horizon, the stars appearing slowly in the darkening sky. Mark kisses a constellation into Jaehyun’s back, slow and gentle. His head feels like it’s full of wet cotton, everything muted. Even though there’s no friction, the constant, hot pressure of Jaehyun around him is consuming. Besides, there’s something about this—lying here like they’re cuddling, when in reality it’s something much less innocent—that absolutely gets to Mark. 

“You feel perfect, hyung,” Mark whispers. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” Jaehyun’s tone is almost dreamy; Mark wishes he could bottle the sound. “And it’ll still be okay if I fall asleep. Just, by the way. You don’t have to pull out or anything.”

This sends a spike of arousal through Mark, almost violent, like he’s been speared in the stomach by wanting. “Oh,” he groans, pressing his forehead against Jaehyun’s back, eyebrows scrunched. “God, hyung, that’s so hot. You’d let me use you like that?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says softly. “‘Cause I’m older, I get tired more easily, but if it’s just like this, I don’t mind. When you need it, you can. Just ask.”

Something about the way Jaehyun’s talking, like Mark’s too young to curb his impulses, goes straight to Mark’s dick. It doesn’t matter that it’s not true—Mark likes to think he still possesses a fraction of decorum—the image of himself being that desperate and needy, and Jaehyun offering himself as a willing solution to that need makes Mark feel hot all over. “Fuck,” he groans softly. “Whenever I need it?”

“Yeah, yes,” Jaehyun agrees. He’s clenching around Mark; Mark isn’t sure if it’s on purpose or not, but either way, it’s turning his brain fuzzy. 

“Wh-what about if I wake up first in the morning, and you’re still sleeping?” Mark ventures. He’s not sure where the idea comes from, but once he voices it, he can’t stop imagining it. 

Jaehyun makes a pretty noise in the back of his throat. “I’d love to wake up to you fucking me, baby,” he says lowly. “Like you couldn’t wait, couldn’t resist.” 

“That’s so dirty, hyung, fuck,” Mark grits out, panting. It’s a little humiliating, being so close, so strung out, from hardly anything at all. But Mark has let his imagination run away with him, and Jaehyun sounds so good, voice rough from arousal and slow from fatigue. Besides, Jaehyun’s body always feels so right around Mark’s. It shouldn’t come as a surprise how much even this affects him, he supposes. 

“Thought you said you wouldn’t move,” Jaehyun says, his tone light and teasing, and Mark realizes his hips have been twitching, short, aborted movements, accidental. 

“Can’t help it,” Mark says, hoping he sounds sorry enough that Jaehyun’ll take pity. 

It works. Jaehyun grinds his hips back against him with an indulgent hum. “No?”

“Mm, hyung, getting close,” Mark says, choosing not to answer. He speeds up his hand a little, pleased when more precome dribbles out onto his palm. “I think you are too, you’re so wet.”

Jaehyun only moans softly in response, fucking himself back on Mark’s cock and then thrusting forward into his fist. It only takes a few more stifled moments before both of them are coming, trapped against each other’s bodies, Mark buried deep inside Jaehyun, Jaehyun spilling over Mark’s fingers. 

Mark slumps against the pillow, the exertion catching up to him and leaving his whole body feeling heavy. Jaehyun’s the one that scoots himself away first, nudging Mark until he pulls out. They clean up quickly, swiping up the come on the sheets before it soaks in so they can finally go to bed.

Curled up, face to face with the comforter tucked around their shoulders, Mark fights sleep, blinking slow and tracing the lines of Jaehyun’s face in the dark with his eyes. “Did you mean it?” he asks after a few moments, a soft whisper, barely audible. “About—everything? You’re okay if I—fuck you when you’re sleeping?”

Jaehyun nods. “Is that something you want to try?”

“I—I think so,” Mark stammers. “I don’t know, I’d never really thought about it before, but now…”

Jaehyun laughs softly. “I think I’d be happy to try just about anything,” he says, “with you.”

Something warm glows in Mark’s chest, and threatens to trap his words in his throat. “Me, too,” he says. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve never even considered, but—I dunno, now I want to try everything. With you.”

Jaehyun tugs him closer, splaying a warm, comforting hand against Mark’s back. “Whatever you want, baby,” he murmurs, words blurry with sleep. “We have plenty of time.”

No, we don’t, Mark wants to say. But sleep is taking him, too, and it weighs down his tongue and washes him into the dark.

[cherubchoirs]

Hi! I've had this question for a bit, what would have happened if fallen Gabriel had killed V1 during the battle in his tomb? (his first fight as a fallen angel), would he come back to reason after seeing what he did?, would V1 make gestures to say it forgives him before dying?, does Gabriel regret it and freezes with the corpse of V1 in his arms to never move again?.

I hope everything is going okay for you!.

i do think his reaction would be similar to what i talked about before if he were to believe v1 dead - in this instance, i don't know if he would have the capacity to understand what he could do or how he could save it. their time together had been so short, it had changed his life and he knows there had been love in both of them, yet it couldn't be properly expressed before his death. and now. his emotion had consumed him, he had fought without controlling his body, his thoughts, a righteous fury that had finally been enough to overpower the machine. it's stupid, so stupid. it must be his punishment, to fail twice, to lose his light and eventually die for it, only to finally succeed when he truly didn't want to. it was just a mistake. he was hurting and v1 stood before him again, but he couldn't see it. couldn't see anything but his grief. v1, for its part, offered little before its death...except to tell him it was proud he gave it a good fight. it always knew he could best it, that in so many ways v1 simply outmaneuvered him, and so all it wants him to know is that he did well. he won. i think he would freeze up as the damned in treachery do, his tomb now dedicated in his own mind to v1 and the shattered remains he can hold. but. he keeps living. and in that life, blood continues to circulate and to attract other machines to his tomb when blood is so difficult to find in the vast wastes of treachery. at first, he moves only to destroy those that dare trespass on him and v1, breaking free of the ice that locks him otherwise to his throne to tear them apart with little resistance from surprised intruders. but when their bodies are strewn in pieces across the marble floor, he sees them for what they are. spare parts.

BASICALLY really like the idea of him embracing his use of hell energy and the parts he harvests from other machines to reconstruct v1. i did kind of consider something similar to this in the ask about gabriel dying, with v1 augmenting his body with robot parts to see if it could get him back up in a VERY mad scientist kind of way, but without access to something like hell energy i couldn't totally make it work...gabe, however, has some magic to sort of kick start the mind as he repairs the body with his stolen parts. i love him being self-taught in this case, studying v1 and the others he kills to learn what he can (sometimes right, sometimes wrong, sometimes half and half) until he begins to get very particular about how he destroys the machines that come to his tomb. he's sure not to damage parts he needs and does a lot of experimenting to see what might work or what completely doesn't (if he somehow learned about v2, i'm guessing that would be the only time he'd leave his tomb just to see if it has any usable parts since they'd be an exact match)

in the end, i can see both failure and success - in the case of failure, i do think he would try and try for as long as machines come, and he would grieve heavily when they finally disappear. he would ravage his tomb in his pain, destroying it in a fit of mourning to leave it almost as a ruin, until he slowly freezes again to lock in place for a final time. he would hold v1, all the spare parts he had forced into it discarded so that its body isn't marred by his failure. in the case of success, however....v1 hellbeast time!!! similar to angelic v1 but its opposite essentially, pieced together into a patchwork facsimile of a v model and brimming with half-contained hell energy. meaning like. gabriel has somehow made it MORE evil, but i'm 100% sure in this case the madness has taken gabe as well and he can't even really see how it's changed or how he has. they are both creatures of hell now, and they have no issue dispatching angels especially since gabriel is fixated on keeping v1 alive. it's kind of their horror ending, both warped by hell and giving in to its influence to lose what they may once have been, living forever in gabriel's tomb to stalk the surrounding tundra. a haunted house in hell

[adambja]

this is sort of long and i hope you know i mean well but i think i had to say this as a follower

i find it really frustrating you being so negative (by calling out drama on your page all the time, you post about your tapes with the hashtag void success and with that, your other asks too, all i see is your posts on the void success tag so there’s absolutely no useful info for me to grasp bc i follow you, i already keep up with your posts and don’t need to see it under the void success tag

so it would be helpful if you could stop using void success tag for posts that has nothing to do with “void success”

another thing

if you will stop talking about the hate, believe it or not, they will move on. The noise will die down, they are not obsessed with you to keep talking about you all day and night. If you can remove yourself from the situation (look at it through bird’s eye view)

you’ll actually see how that blog has let no wrong doings slide in the community ever since they got active.

Rosie left bc she kept lying to our faces all the time. Fleur who i genuinely think was a kind person also had some sort of talk going on, on that page but do you think she continued to talk about it over and over again on her page? no. She continued to help people, continued to get success stories on her page (which you are too, congrats on that)

Charm too cleared the air ONCE, when she was involved in drama, she moved on to do the same thing like fleur

charm had spoken up against unique and she left too (moonlight page didn’t exist then)

so you need to see that speaking up against wrong is important. That’s why they do what they do.

Why they talk about you even when you know you’re not doing anything wrong and only want to help:

People can’t afford your tapes and no one wants to shell out money when there are ample of resources out for free

Examples: pink purchased a custom void sub TWICE for us, with nothing to gain.

junfairykyu purchased a custom void sub and shared it with everyone, with nothing to gain.

konnie made a void sub with really good benefits for free (someone entered the void with it too)

i get that you also come across people who ask for too much, that are plain rude but to continue addressing them on your blog (yeah, tiring) we get that you had to deal w some terrible people but address it once and move on? why mention it in every other post.

(cause not everyone is greedy asking for more and more things from you, some simply follow you for advice, your personal experiences with the law and so on and so forth)

also;

you somewhat sound arrogant when you speak with so much confidence, (some (not i) might use the word cocky too) and of course i’m not asking you to do anything about it,

i am just letting you know as someone who’s also into psychology. (perceptions differ, you don’t have to agree (and i don’t mean to offend)

I know it’s up to you, your page, your rules but

as a follower i only say this cause i want to continue following you but if you keep talking about drama and how everyone is “greedy” then i guess i shouldn’t be here.

So if you wish to continue with your old patterns; let me know. Please don’t block me. I’ll unfollow.

Basically you should've came to my DMs

I love how you told me all this

The tag

it's connected to my blog I just can't change because of the posts I post here about the void

All these examples

I actually love these thank you for sharing these

But 😭😭 you don't understand what is happening people are lying to themselves about my tapes and coaching and I am just being dramatic

There's something about these patterns you are talking about - they aren't forced on me BUT I AM THE ONE CHOOSING THEM - because the first drama got me helping a lot of people and I am really glad it happened 💀💀!!

And I have been talking to myself about choosing something else like comfort aka just constant ignoring

Because it's literally marketing people are buying more tapes and coaching and I love coaching people that's why

I am free rn I won't be having that much time like rn on Christmas 😭!!

Also about the free tapes

Honey 😭!!!!!

It's available thru me via request thru my DMs

You can come and get it for free and I will never share it publicly

I won't block you - you aren't rude - you are just talking and I want this here (just talking) I really respect that - I am feeling good cause finally someone who got a brain is actually talking - NOT EVERYONE IS LIKE YOU

And actually I would love to know who is behind this anon mode 🫶🏻!

I am actually thinking about changing many things here so yeah I won't block you and if you wanna follow or unfollow it's okay - I am sure you will like my blog in the next few days - I've been preparing a lot posts during all that drama and they are already scheduled 😭😭😭!!!

And at the end I wanna say "greedy" isn't about everyone I never specified if it's about someone or everyone!

BUT AGAIN THERE ARE NO GREEDY PEOPLE THEY ALL ARE BLOCKED and like

People who are asking for the free tapes aren't greedy at all 😭😭😭!!! They are fine af - most of them are so nice!

Me being "arrogant" it's because I was just dramatic

And about the confidence yes I am so confident it should empower you not make you feel bad - also the why? It's because I know what I am doing + I know why am I here! So ofc I am confident about every single step I take here!

AGAIN I really respect how long you typed this and I appreciate you being so honest with me 😭

I PROMISE I WILL NOT EVEN TALK ABOUT ANY HATE ANYMORE ALSO THE OTHER POSTS ABOUT HATE AND GREEDY PEOPLE WILL BE DELETED 💀! DON'T WORRY ABOUT THIS

[dedalvs]

This might be because I'm tempted to introduce you and your work to my followers but am personally aware of how even very impressive work (like your GoT langs) can still be a complication for the artist in the present, by virtue of being Past work., but I wanted to ask what your thoughts on that are? like where do you see conlanging in 15 years, as a thing ppl are interested in

These seem to be two different questions, and I wish you would've elaborated a bit more on the first, as it could mean a number of different things. I'm always delighted to talk about old work (although since House of the Dragon is currently airing, Valyrian is kind of current work, isn't it?), because I can remember what it was like to create it. I may not think some language I created a long while back is the best language, but I can remember why I was doing it, what the goals were, and how I executed them, and I can always talk about that. I don't see that as a bad thing. I guess someone might be worried about people only being interested in their old work and not their new, but that's not a big deal. Time usually evens things out, as long as you're still at it. And if you go somewhere new, there will be a new audience to await you and be excited about what you're doing.

Think about something like Twin Peaks, for example. Richard Beymer plays a character named Ben Horne. Twin Peaks was, like, the IT show for a while, and everyone who had a major (or even minor) role in it became famous—like, next level famous (talking about the 90s). For a lot of people, that is how they know who Richard Beymer is—an older guy who played Ben Horne on Twin Peaks. But he also played a character named Tony (i.e. the male lead) in the movie West Side Story—and, in fact, was nominated for the Golden Globe for best actor. If it's the year 1962 and you're talking about Richard Beymer, you're talking about the West Side Story guy. That was his thing! That was the ONLY thing he was known for! And it was a big thing, and he did a great job. And he did other work in the intervening thirty years between West Side Story and Twin Peaks, but for a while, he was only the West Side Story guy. Then Twin Peaks happens, and younger fans are like, "What's West Side Story…?"

I suppose as an artist there's a concern that if you do it once, you may not be able to do it again. And then let's say you do it twice. Could you do it a third time? And maybe you do it three times, but it was five years, and you were hot then. What about ten years later? Will that be it?

All this stuff is just thinking. It's intangible. If it does nothing to help you, then banish the thinking: Let it in, hear what it has to say, then send it on its way and allow your brain to move on to other things. If your brain gets caught up with thinking like this it won't move on to other things, and those "other things" are what you could be doing now.

The nice thing about creating a language is a language is never done. All the languages I've created for shows are still current, for me. I'm still working on them. None of them have errors or quirks so bad that I don't want to work on them anymore, and I think that's a real sign of success as a conlanger. The languages I created before that, only one would I still work with (Kamakawi); the rest need a total overhaul. (In fact, that was part of the inspiration for LangTime Studio: I wanted to give some of my old languages that I still liked an overhaul. Instead, Jessie and I created brand new ones, and they're even better.)

I don't really know where conlanging will be in 15 years, because right now, it's kind of a mess. There's too much going on and no way to focus in on any one thing—and no way to figure out who's doing what. That means it's harder to find and recognize good stuff. That situation is unsustainable. Conlangers will either give up (imagine a huge crowd gathered to shout for the attention of the queen who's on tour, only the queen never shows up, because there is no queen), or something will happen that allows the community to focus its attention and say, "This is good! Let's look at this for a little bit." Like, music is coming out every day, but we have award shows, we have radio stations, we have movies and shows and commercials that feature music, we have artists curating lists, in addition to self-promotion, of course. Right now we have movies and shows that feature conlangs, but while every show and film has music, not every show and film has a conlang. Then outside of that there's self-promotion. It's not working. Good work isn't being ignored: It's not being found. There's an important difference there. It's not like we all know what the best conlangs are right now and we're choosing not to say anything about them: We literally don't know what or where they are. That's what isn't sustainable.

So yeah, I don't know what's going to happen in the next 15 years. Someone needs to find a solution to this. And it's hard, because there's no one place on the internet where everyone goes. There's no guarantee that anyone's going to see anything. It's not like the old days, where everyone watched what was on TV, and everyone read the newspaper.

Not sure if these were the answers you were looking for, but I hope they serve you well. <3

[shynmighty]

oh oh oh, 53 holding the other’s jaw forrr Aeseca and Rass? :3

53 from this list it is!

I'm hanging onto @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen's ask because, let's face it, I'm totally going to write 20 & 28 for Aeseca/Rass (because I, too, am obsessed with them!!) but I gave this one priority since it was requested twice!

Anyway, I wrote this as somewhat of a companion piece/sequel to this one, hope you all enjoy it!!! 😁

53: Holding the Other’s Jaw Pairing: Aeseca Silverblade/Rass Ordo

Nar Shaddaa was a riot of lights and noise. From where Aeseca stood across from the Promenade, a vast array of colored signs cast the rooftop in a fluorescent glow, flickering from purple to blue to yellow and back. She pressed a finger to her temple to stave off the oncoming headache brought on by the constant noise and bright flashes at the corners of her vision.

A standoff with a Hidden Chain informant had ended in a showdown atop that very roof just a few minutes earlier, with backup arriving from Odessen to see the slippery Rodian captured just before he could escape. Aeseca could feel her heartbeat start to return to normal as she wandered to the sidelines. Behind her, Alliance officers led by Theron Shan took the Rodian into custody, escorting him to the shuttle they had arrived in.

The mission was a success. Shae would be pleased. All in all, a good day for the Alliance.

Even so, Aeseca could not suppress the less comfortable, pinching sadness deep in her chest. No more mission meant she and her companion would go their separate ways. Even if they partnered up again, there was no telling when that might happen.

Then came crushing guilt. As a Jedi, this developing attachment was strictly forbidden. She knew that, and yet it had been so effortless to cultivate. Even one-sided as it was, something would have to be done before it became a bigger problem.

Aeseca glanced at him as the shuttle’s ramp ascended. He had taken off his helmet and slung it casually under one arm. To her surprise, he was already looking at her, the corner of his mouth slightly upturned as he approached.

“Don’t say it, Rass,” She told him.

“Don't say what?” The Mandalorian replied with barely feigned innocence.

“Whatever joke about shuttles you’ve been preparing,” the Jedi cast a level gaze at him from the corner of her eye. “Specifically, crashing them.”

Rass chuckled. “You know me too well.”

Behind them, the shuttle became airborne. Other ships that saw the Alliance insignia emblazoned on the hull gave it a wide berth as it soared into the clouds overhead, leaving Aeseca and Rass alone on the rooftop. Despite the echoed cacophony of the city around them, the area seemed somehow quieter than before.

“What’s on your mind?” Rass asked.

Aeseca frowned, cycling through all the possible responses before deciding to deflect. “What do you mean?”

“Just the way you’re frowning at me,” The slight, infuriating smile remained on his face. “You’re not the only one who’s picked up a thing or two.”

Her gaze dropped to the ground, but somehow even his feet were too difficult to look at. Turning away from him, she leaned on the rooftop ledge. The city, foul and dazzling as it was, seemed easier to take in.

“I’ve just been thinking,” she said, stopping short of admitting that it was him she had been thinking about. “I guess I haven’t really been feeling like myself lately.”

“Want to talk about it?” Rass was leaning on the ledge beside her, and she could feel his soft brown eyes searching her. She deliberately remained facing the city. “Can’t say I can solve big, important Jedi problems but I can listen.”

Aeseca sighed. “It’s not a big, important problem. I just feel…” she stopped herself from saying anything about him directly. “I feel disconnected. From myself. I worked so hard to get where I am, I was so single-minded in my goal – to be a good Jedi. But I have doubts, and they’re making me question everything I’ve achieved.”

“You are a good Jedi, I’ve seen that firsthand,” Rass said. “Whatever your doubts, they can’t erase everything you’ve done.”

“I wish I had your certainty,” Aeseca remained stubbornly facing away. She knew speaking in half-truths would only lead to his partial understanding.

This was accompanied by a somewhat terrifying thought: that if she looked at him now, she might just tell him everything. That she was falling hopelessly in love with him, how part of her wanted to cast the Jedi code aside completely for him, that she would realign the galaxy if he asked her to, and that these illicit feelings became more overwhelming by the day.

“Aeseca,” His voice was accompanied by a soft touch, his gloved fingers gently pressing against her jaw as he turned her head to face him with one hand. A short eternity passed in the space of her meeting his gaze. The glow of the city shone in his eyes making them look even brighter. If he had not been holding her jaw, she might have had trouble staying upright. “I’m not just handing out empty platitudes, okay? You’re remarkable. You… amaze me.”

For a brief moment, Aeseca knew what it felt like to fly over the city. Her heart was unleashed from her very chest and was doing a barrel roll somewhere in the clouds overhead. The rest of her was frozen in place, wide-eyed with disbelief and delight. At the same time, he was looking down at her with sincerity in his eyes she had never seen before. He thought she was remarkable. She amazed him. Perhaps there really was a chance he felt the same…

There is no passion, there is serenity. The thought brought her back to the rooftop. Once again, she was a Jedi, and he was a Mandalorian, and she reminded herself that this was all wrong. In her enjoyment of that moment, she had already gone too far.

“I need to go,” the words escaped her weakly, in a whisper. She took a reluctant step back, ignoring the feeling of Nar Shaddaa crumbling around her as his hand slipped away.

“Go where?” He asked as she retreated.

“To Tython,” she called over her shoulder. Her fists clenched at her sides as she battled the tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

She would go to Tython… and try to forget.

[kinkcommissions]

"A Man's Man"- Superstore Sickfic

Written by: Pine

This fic is based on the short arc where Jonah drinks the ranch dressing to impress the warehouse guys. ‘nough said ;)

There is a very slight reference to my previous Superstore fic “Spillage”. It’s unimportant to the plot of the fic, but if you enjoy this kinda thing, check out “Spillage” first because this one technically follows that one (though the reference is only small)

Hope you enjoy :)

---

Jonah swaggered toward the breakroom. He practically bounced with excitement. Not only did he get the warehouse guys to join the union without having to partake in endless questionable activities with Marcus, but he did it by connecting to them as men. Jonah had always been insecure about how manly he was. He knew he wasn’t the kind of guy to lift weights and pull girls; he was more the kind of guy to make a cup of coco and tune in to a new podcast, arguing out loud with the speakers with no one else to hear. He had never been “a man’s man”, until today. To chug a gallon of ranch dressing perhaps wasn’t the most intellectual solution to the problem, but it had worked. He was only grateful that he had skipped lunch today, though with nothing else in him, that ranch was sitting heavy…

Even acid reflux couldn’t get him down. A gallon of dressing was definitely not brilliant for his rather sensitive stomach, given that it was mostly used to all organic, locally sourced foods. Though that didn’t matter, he could just swig some pepto when his shift was over and he got home. And though he was stuck on shift for another hour or two with an increasing pain in his middle, he was still high off his success with the guys.

“You look more peppy than usual” came Garret’s voice. Jonah turned to see him also heading to the breakroom. “Let me guess, you served Greta Thunberg at the checkout?”

“No, cool stuff like that never seems to happen to me” Jonah replied. Garret smirked, further amused that Jonah had missed that he was making fun of him.

“No, I chugged a gallon of ranch to impress the warehouse guys into joining the union!” Jonah didn’t wait to see Garret’s reaction before continuing, meaning he missed a flash of concern across his friend’s face.

“Maybe I should chug things more often” Jonah said, half talking to himself, walking through the employee door towards the breakroom. He raised his voice again bringing Garret back into the conversation.

“That’s what us guys do isn’t it? Chug drinks?” Jonah paused for a moment, trying to think of a more macho term for drinks.

“Booze? Hooch? Liquid Courage?” at the last, Jonah nodded, satisfied and Garret stifled a laugh, imagining Jonah calling ‘beer’ ‘liquid courage’ in front of the warehouse guys.

“Can you even chug a gallon of ranch?” Garret asked as they walked together down the hallway.

“Apparently so” Jonah replied, placing a hand for a moment on his stomach, reminded of the heavy feeling settling there.

“I mean, without hurling it all back up again later”

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue” Jonah said “I like to drink probiotics so my digestion…” he patted his stomach twice “It’s got to be fairly well boosted by now”

“Ok buddy, don’t come crying to me when you’re chucking up a gallon of ranch in the employee toilet”.

“Won’t need to man, guys chug all sorts all the time right? And ranch is meant to be eaten anyway!”

They made it to the breakroom and took a well-deserved rest, Garret grateful to take a break from serving customers; Jonah grateful to be off his feet and give his stomach a chance to start working on that ranch. A sore stomach for one evening seemed like a small price to pay for respect and admiration from the guys.

---

“Oh god”

It was too late for pepto. Jonah gripped his stomach firmly as he hastily made his way from aisle six, where he was stocking the shelves, and towards the employee toilet. Turns out Garret had been right, and its not like he could ask him for help now after what he had said, but more because he had already helped him a while ago when Jonah had eaten that bad yoghurt and subsequently thrown it back up when confronted with a particularly bad spillage. Garret had been so kind to him then and Jonah didn’t want Garret to think of him as this shrinking violet that vomited every time something disgusting happened. Plus, he wanted Garret to believe him about his probiotics and the benefit they had on his digestion. He’d come so far trying to teach Garret about organic, probiotic food and this would make him lose all his earned credibility on that topic. A quick trip to the men’s room was all he needed this time, and he was more than happy to do it by himself.

“Jonah?”

“Dina!” Jonah was flustered, he quickly removed his hand from his stomach and tried to wipe away the sheen of sweat across his brow.

“You’re already finished in aisle 6? That was quick. Ok, I need you to run a message to Amy, she’s in her office. A shipment came in today, apparently we’re short one item. Those bastards think they can short us one item per shipment like I’m not going to notice? Do you even know how many gallons of ranch they would owe us by the end of the year?”

“Oh god” said Jonah, though they weren’t really words, more spoken through an involuntary and powerful retch that keeled him at the waist. He put a hand instinctively to his mouth.

“Woah, you okay Jonah? You’ve gone a little green there. It’s very noticeable on account of your pale complexion. Was it something I said? Don’t like me talking about ranch shipments?”

Bleruuugh. The retch was short and strong, his body so full of ranch, it didn’t need to come far to escape. The hurling was vicious, a wet noise followed his gagging which was muted by a mouthful of partially digested, warm and stomach-tinged ranch dressing. The vomit was almost pure ranch. It looked white. It smelt tangy. Jonah tasted nothing but ranch and this only served to quicken the process.

Dina took a couple of quick steps back, managing to avoid most of the fluid, getting herself hastily out of the firing line.

“Damn Jonah, youstole the ranch from the shipment?”

Jonah took his opportunity to speak while he had the chance, though his voice was thick.

“No! Well yes, I guess technically? But only to chug it so that the warehouse guys would join the union! I-“ he cut himself off as speaking for so long was bringing on another wave of nausea.

“Ah, a classic dick-swinging contest huh?” Dina nodded understanding “I’ve been where you’ve been, I’ve chugged enough ranch to open a sandwich shop of my own”

Jonah paused for a moment, distracted from his sickness

“What would you sell, ranch sandwiches?” though at the thought of his own comment, Jonah promptly spewed liquid onto the floor again.

“Okay buddy” Dina said, placing a hand on his back to lead him away. She pulled out her walkie talkie.

“Glenn, can you send Sandra over to aisle six, tell her to bring a mop”

“Can do Dina!” came Glenn’s nasally voice from the other side of the walkie talkie.

“How does that man not get laughed out of every room he walks in?” Dina questioned out loud as she strode purposefully, leading Jonah to the employee toilet. She managed to get him there without further mess made out on the floor. Dina threw the door open, and seeing one of the stall doors closed, she started hammering on it with her fist.

“Clear the room now!” she called, her voice booming through the toilet.

Marcus replied from inside “Dina I’ve just started and if I stop now I’ll have to start all over again in another bathroom”

“Save it Marcus. Out. Now.”

Marcus fled from the stall, naked, and bundling his clothes in his arms,

“Jesus Marcus why are you naked?”

“Oh so you guys would rather try and get pee stains out of your clothes?”

“Just don’t pee on yourself?!”

“Yeah” Marcus scoffed “If it were that easy! Good one Dina” and then he left.

“He is a strange guy” Jonah said but started retching again.

“In!” Dina demanded pointing  into the stall and kicking it open.

“Was that really- oh-“ Jonah cut himself off again and made his way to the toilet kneeling down and centring himself just in time for yet another torrent, hailed down into the toilet bowl. The discontented cries of Jonah’s struggle to evacuate the ranch were echoed back into the room. Amidst the sounds of vomit pooling in the toilet came the desperate groans and agonised moans that could only be coming from someone ridding themselves of a gallon of ranch.

Dina reached out but hesitated before touching him. Hearing his struggle, her decision was made. She laid her hand across his back and made comforting circular motions. He instinctively leaned slightly back into her hand, almost forgetting she was there; he only focused on the feeling of comfort. Some distant part of him was embarrassed at her presence, but a very real and immediate threat of another exodus brought any straggling thoughts back to his here and now as he fully emptied himself into the toilet; his hands grasped desperately at the seat. Jonah’s posture was small, his knees together, head bowed and back slightly arched as he retched. Dina stood behind him in contact with his back. She had begun making staccato hushing sounds and realised it was the same noise she used to quiet her birds, but it seemed to helping Jonah so she didn’t stop.

After his vomiting had stopped, Jonah let out a more than exasperated breath and sat back onto his knees. He wiped his brow once more and Dina was already offering toilet paper, which he took gratefully, and used to clear his nose and clean his mouth. He stood.

“You missed a bit” she said softly and with the toilet paper she still held, she dabbed the corner of his mouth. Jonah was very flustered.

“Thank you. And, erm- thank you for- you know”

“Hey” she stopped him “I’ve been there. It’s okay.”

She turned to leave and stopped, turning back to face him.

“I’m gonna have to take the cost of the ranch out of your pay. It’s nothing personal but you did consume stock while on shift.”

Jonah smiled, glad to return to their usual dynamic and quickly leave the vulnerability behind.

“I won’t write you up though, I think you’ve probably suffered enough”.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Vicarious (Part 19)

“You need to talk to us, Sokka.” Katara insists. “I really wish that you would. I know that you feel like you have to be strong and tough for the rest of the group but you can let us do the hard work every now and again.” 

Azula forces herself to nod along, to say that she knows. But she doesn’t. Perhaps Sokka doesn’t have to be strong and unbreakable all the time but she does. If she isn’t she won’t stand a chance. Not when so many people crave her downfall. They want to see her break–they need to see her break. She is not a threat when she is shattered. 

“I made you some soup.” Aang puts the bowl on the dresser. 

“Thank you.”  Azula mutters. 

“You feeling any better?” Toph asks. 

“I guess, maybe.” She supposes that it is a relief to know that she has more than three days to get everything done and that Hakoda will share the burden. But that doesn’t stop her from feeling like a failure. She should have been able to handle the task. Fourteen year old her would have been able to. Fourteen year old her would be terribly disappointed in her, disappointed and embarrassed by what she has become. “I should have been able to handle it.” 

“Dad gave you a lot to handle at once.” Katara frowns and crosses her arms. “I told him over and over again that this would happen.” 

“He just wants me to be successful.” She hopes with all of her soul that Ozai had only wanted the same for her. 

“He gets way too invested sometimes and sets his expectations way too high.”

Aang puts a hand on the waterbender’s shoulder. “It’s alright, he wasn’t trying to put pressure on Sokka.”

“I should have been able to handle it.” Azula repeats. 

Zuko shakes his head. “That was a lot of work for one person. I’m the fire lord and even I don’t have to deal with that much work on my own. I have Mai and a whole team of advisors to help me out.”

“Well good for you.” She grumbles. She clears her throat. “I mean that is good for you.” She glances across the room to where Sokka sits. He hasn’t had the chance to scold her for breaking down like that. He hasn’t spoken to her at all since it had happened and for some reason that makes her stomach squirm.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Sokka.” Zuko says. “Trust me, it’s not pleasant.” 

Azula rubs her hands over her face. Agni, she really doesn’t want to take life advice from Zuzu of all people. 

She has sunk to such a deep low. 

“No one is meant to take on that much at once. It isn’t your fault.” It is the first sentence that Sokka has uttered and it draws quite a bit of attention. She catches something flicker across Zuko’s face. Something that could be understanding or maybe, for once, empathy. 

“Ozai was really good at giving people way more than they could handle.” Zuko says. “It hurts a lot.” He looks over at Sokka. “A real lot.” 

Azula’s tummy flutters twice over. 

She, for just a moment, dances with the notion that she truly had been given a task that was beyond what anyone could reasonably handle, that she isn’t not simply a waste of potential. 

She swallows. “Right. Thanks.” 

Katara pats his hand. “Alright then, we’ll let you enjoy your soup and some quiet time.”

“I should have helped you.” Sokka mentions after everyone else has left. “I wish that you would have asked…” 

“Katara already said that.”

“Yeah, but she was saying it to me. I’m saying it to you.” 

Azula stares into her soup with knit brows and a pinched expression. The bowl warms her palms and the steam wafting up from it heats her throat. 

“You can ask me if you need something.” He smiles. She hadn’t realized that she was capable of looking so inviting and approachable. Not until Sokka had put that expression her face. By all means, she looks like a friendly person. Maybe in another life–one where she had been allowed to be a child. One where she was loved and cherished. “I think that you want to ask for something.” Sokka observes.

“Why would you think that?” 

“You look upset.” He replies simply. 

“There’s nothing you can do about it.” She mumbles. He can’t get her, her childhood back. He can’t make her feel loved. Or maybe it is that she is just too afraid to let him try. She had so many life plans and not a single one of them involved dating a someone from the Water Tribes. None of them involved dating anyone at all. It had simply been an idea that she had toyed with for a night or two on Ember Island when real life had been a touch removed. 

“I don’t think that, that’s true.” Sokka pushes. He takes her hand. “At the very least, I can help you with the Republic City Project.”

“Your father told me to take a break.”

“And you will be!” He declares. “I’ll be doing the rest of the work. I’m  not going to lie, after stepping away from the project, I’ve kind of missed it. I’ve had several ideas that I’d love to get put on paper.”

.oOo.

Azula is asleep by the time he looks up from the newly revised and polished blueprints and street layouts. Perhaps it is a bit ambitious but he envisions a future where carts and carriages can be pulled along streets that stand above other streets, that way they can eliminate all of the street congestion. 

He takes the time to create some more detailed notes for Azula–detailed but more precise and to the point, all of those key details that she needs for the speech and pitch that she will be giving on his behalf. 

He is just gathering the papers up and stacking them into an orderly pile when he hears the door open.

“You’re still with him?” Katara tilts her head. 

Sokka nods. “He was getting overwhelmed so I thought that I would…” He gestures to the blueprints. 

“I didn’t know that you knew about architecture.”

“I’ve done my research.” He shrugs. “I enjoy learning about a variety of things and I haven’t had much else to do so I might as well.” 

On the mattress Azula stirs. She rolls over with a sleepy mumble–something like, “who’s there?”--and rubs her eyes. 

“It’s just Katara.” Sokka replies. 

“Oh.” It takes her a moment but she is sitting up and rubbing her eyes again. He tries to picture Azula in her own body, sleepy and rubbing her eyes. A small smile breaks upon his lips. She parts hers and mutters, “what time is it?”

“A little after midnight.” Katara answers. 

“You should go back to sleep.” Sokka adds. She had been sleeping so peacefully. 

“So should you, Azula.” Katara quirks a brow. “Have you gotten even a little sleep?”

Sokka shakes his head. “I’ve been busy.”

“You’re always busy.” Katara notes. “Maybe that’s part of why you’re always so stressed and uptight.”

Azula crosses her arms over her chest. She opens her mouth, remembers herself, and closes it again.

“I’m not trying to be rude. It’s just that…I remember when you, Mai, and TyLee were chasing us. I was so mean to Toph and she just gave up everything to join us. Aang and I had a fight. We were all super cranky and Sokka was willing to sleep on the softest pile of dirt.”

“That’s so sad.” He hears Azula whisper more to herself. “A little pathetic too.” 

It takes every ounce of his self control not to burst out that a man needs to do what a man needs to do. And if that means sleeping in dirt then so be it. Instead he replies. “Sounds like a delight.”

“It’s kind of a fun story to tell in retrospect. Toph called me a ‘sugar’ queen. I told her that it was too bad that she couldn’t see the pretty stars.” 

“That’s just cold.” Sokka chuckles. 

“The point is, you should get some sleep too. Do you ever give yourself time to relax?”

Sokka nods. “I have my spa.”

“But you also firebend every single day. Maybe you should take a day off and actually get to sleep on time.”

“Maybe.” Sokka repeats. 

“Dad said that he would take care of things for Sokka. Between the two of you, I think that Sokka is going to do just fine.”

“But he’s…” 

“Stressed?” Katara asks. “That happens every now and again. We’ll make sure that he’s okay. You need to start taking better care of yourself too.”

“I do take care of myself!” He replies with all of the offense that Azula is probably simmering in from her spot on the mattress.

Katara chuckles. “When was the last time you had a glass of water?”

Sokka clenches his teeth. “Five in the afternoon.” He grumbles. 

Katara quirks a brow. “Exactly.” She takes the teacup from the nightstand, fills it, and passes it to him. “You can’t just work through meals and sleep. You’re a smart person, Azula. You’ll be able to get your work done even if you take some breaks.” 

He knows that tone. He knows it well enough to know that no isn’t an answer. She’ll walk away but she will come to check on him later and if he isn’t in bed he will get a lecture of some sort. “I’ll wrap things up.”

Katara smiles. “I’ll hold you to that.” She pauses in the doorway. “Thank you for taking care of Sokka. Good night you two.” 

“I got a good night.” Azula whispers more to herself. 

“Yeah.” Sokka finds himself a spot on the mattress. “She’s warming up to you.”

“To you.”

“I’m sure that you’ll be able to become a friend when you get your body back. But we should get to bed…” He trails off as a little something occurs to him. “You told me to be in bed by a certain time!” He folds his arms across his chest. 

Azula gives a lazy little shrug and flops back onto the mattress. Again, he finds himself imagining Azula in her own body flopping onto the bed and bundling herself up. He hadn’t realized it, but she is quite adorable. “I was hoping that you could fix my sleeping schedule since you aren’t as inclined to work on my projects as persistently as I would. Not finishing them wouldn’t keep you up at night thinking about them.” 

“What projects have you had, recently?”

“Well…none.” Azula frowns. “But that’s part of the problem. I feel…usel–like I should be doing something. And then I think about that and thinking about that leads to thinking about other things and then it’s morning.”  

“Do you still do that?” 

Azula nods. 

“Would it help if I spent the night?”

“You’re sleeping on the floor.” She says before immediately grumbling something that sounds like, “oh yeah, that’s right.” And patting the mattress. 

Sokka takes that spot. “What made you change your mind?”

“I don’t want my back to be stiff when I get back to my own body.”

Sokka laughs. “Oh is that it?”

She nods. “What else?”

“I think that you care about my comfort.”

“If I didn’t care about bruising my own skin, I would push you off of this bed.” 

He laughs again and makes himself comfy on the mattress. Once again, Azula fixes a pillow between the two of them. “Good night, Azula.” 

For an extended moment he doesn’t think that she will return the sentiment but, however quietly, she does.

[yuzu-all-the-way]

Prologue Hachinohe Day 3 (live broadcast) - impressions

It's been more than 12 hours and I thought it's time I write down my thoughts and feeling about the last day of Prologue - both an ending and beginning.

Generally, Prologue was definitely a success and it surpassed my expectation by far. I never doubted Yuzuru and he delivered. This time, knowing what to expect in terms of emotional damage, I was not as phased by the video edits, but, inevitably, I teared up during SEIMEI, screamed during Change, Otonal and Etude - after a short respite when he talked and I was desperately trying to understand (and obviously failing) why he was talking about SEIMEI, quad jumps and triple Axels - back to tearing up through R&J 1.0, screaming and feeling great during A Fleeting Dream, and finally, tearing up again during Haru, Yo Koi. Emotional rollercoaster is an understatement.

(Sorry for the long sentence, but there really was no breather during Prologue, so neither is one here.)

It felt like he had much more energy than in Yokohama Day 2 and I appreciated that he paced himself enough that Yuzuru was able to complete the ice show clean! I genuinely don't know when about 2 hours passed - I was so engrossed into the show that I simply did not acknowledge anything else, just Yuzu skating... and talking ... and wearing a hoodie ... and laughing... and skating ... skating ...

Truly, best experience ever - the only thing that can top it is to see him live in a freezing arena.

I'm too lazy to add photos here, I already put together the majority of which I found in the Prologue Hachinohe MasterPost.

Anyhow, the show itself was not surprising, it was simply engaging and worthwhile - I was happy to not be overly emotional. But theeeen...

Parisienne Walkways, but like, extreme Hoochie Coochie Man mode was, as it happened in Yokohama, a hard whiplash, yet it got dethroned by the BIGGEST whiplash the Yuzu's fans ever experienced (at least, from the general reactions, it seems like it).

A short From Russia with Love encore, small Yuzu on screen and big Yuzu on the ice, lights out, then a video... 26.02.2023... Ice Story, GIFT.

Yeah, that was definitely the surprise of the year (my year starts with 19th July, I guess). Nothing could've prepared us for the major news about ANOTHER one-man ice show EXCLUSIVELY for one-night at the Tokyo Dome. Yuzu's life feels like a movie and we are the audience who can never guess the plot twists.

Because of this exciting news, I don't even feel sad that Prologue has ended. I'm normal - because I know we'll see him in 2 months and there's no longer that pressing question "What next?" because we already have the answer.

Yes, Prologue was the perfect beginning for Yuzu's pro career, it also proved that he is a mastermind and capable of engaging hundreds of thousands of people around the world for 2 hours (or more) straight (the stream I was on had about 60K people watching and I bet there were many more watching through other means).

I have to give it to Asahi TV, they gave us performances from previous days, too - we still want the full show, or, at least, I do, but this is a good start. I never imagined I'd love seeing Yuzuru skate again to Somebody to Love nor that I'd watch the Mission Impossible skate on repeat because... he's just so cool (biased, I am).

Otonal, seeing it twice (I think it was from today's broadcast the 2nd time around, too) healed my tiredness and made me so energetic. Definitely my favourite Yuzu SP.

Now, onto waiting for GIFT and for Yuzu to update his YT channel.

[thessalian]

Thess vs An Unfortunate Tuesday

There are no words for how fed up I am with today.

Started poorly in that “I woke up too early and couldn’t get back to sleep” way, but I thought, hey, I can check the bus routes and go pick up some mallet meds before I start work, since I am currently out. Except that according to the route finder on my phone, all the nearest bus stops are shut. I found out why when I went out to the corner shop - I’d forgotten they were resurfacing one of the main roads in the area. So every bus in my area that doesn’t require climbing a massive hill is diverted away for basically the whole week, and trying to cross said road is an absolute nightmare because, again, resurfacing the entire road.

(Though I have to say, while I can get away with forgetting about the signs that have been all over the place for a month talking about it because I don’t even drive or live on that road at all, I don’t understand the people who actually park their cars there. One of the things that was going on when I went to find a place to cross the road was somebody’s car getting towed. Oopsie.)

So, yeah, it’s going to be a hellish walk however I do it because such hill, and also raining. I swear, since I’m not crossing the entirety of London, I’m about half-tempted to get a taxi. Okay, more than half-tempted to get a taxi. We’ll see after my grocery order arrives, since I have to be here to pick it up. Might end up having to take a taxi anyway to get to any pharmacy that’s open. Not a problem if I go to a supermarket pharmacy counter; I kind of wanted to go to the big Tesco anyway because they have a better range of gluten-free stuff and there are some things I missed on the big shop.

Anyway, then there was the work itself, which was its usual blend of manageable and really fucking annoying. First thing I got was "Hey, send all these reports to this person, please; the hospital numbers probably won’t be right so use the NHS numbers”. Some of them weren’t registered under NHS numbers either so I had to go by names and wanted to kick the individuals responsible for not providing dates of birth. At least none of the names I was looking for were particularly common. Anyway, point is that there were a lot of names on that list and only about two-thirds of them actually had reports on the system anywhere, so I sent what I had with an apology and effectively, “There’s this one we have no record of at all from January and the rest of them only underwent surgery on Friday so their reports might not have gone through the system yet”. The email I got back was, “Oh, yeah, I guess if you only got the samples yesterday afternoon we can’t expect an authorised report; and that other guy in January was a no-show so you won’t have his reports because there aren’t any”.

THEN WHY WAS HE ON THE LIST?!?

Anyway, after that, my laptop demanded rebooting twice in quick succession, but in between times I found that Temp was playing her usual game of leaving all the long bullshit to me. She was really blatant about it today, too. I mean, fuck’s sake. So I got a significant portion of the long and aggravating bullshit. I don’t know who got the rest but I had a look and it was not her. I swear, I’m going to have to ask Scruffman to really take a look at what she’s doing because none of this is fair, to any of us that do any typing.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, my Stuff What I Ordered arrived. So I have a new egg slicer (tougher than the last one, thank the gods), a proper salt shaker, two new window boxes, and a bunch of seeds. Hey, @fauxfire76 - I’m planting petunias! I mean, also cornflower and hollyhock and zinnia and forget-me-not and a bunch of other bee-friendly flowers, but you know. Also need to start the basil, coriander, tomatoes and probably the dill (I know I’ve still got the rescue dill but I cannot have too much dill; it is impossible). And obviously the soil to make the planting happen. I am alternately amused and bewildered at the fact that I quasi-regularly buy dirt.

So, yeah, today’s been unfortunate on a number of levels and it’s not even really over yet. Hence the wanting to go to the big Tesco for some gluten-free treat or other.