#i think i watched like eight episodes today i only have one left in all of season nine and i got to season nine like less than 48 hours ago

[bookdork1]

me binge watching a 15 season show: I HAVE TOWATCH FAST I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS

also me binge watching a 15 season show: oh nononono there;s only 137 episodes left what am i going to do when there’s less than a 100 left less than 50 NONE????????????

[magicalcelestialgem]

The Smiling Critters Headcanons - Pt. 2

Hey, y'all! More headcanons! And also the fact I'm making up an AU involving them, specifically the toon ones! And maybe after this batch of headcanons, I will post the separate headcanons. And a certain purple kitty is first on the list.

Sorry, y’all! No ships today, but I do plan some ship headcanons.

The Smiling Critters are the same age.

All eight of the critters are childhood friends. DogDay was the one who brought them all together when they were 10. 

They all met at the same elementary school and continued on to middle school. The group sort of split up when they graduated from 8th Grade and they went to separate high schools (I plan to draw how they look as kids).

The Smiling Critters had a smaller version of their pendents when they were young and it was all done as a symbol of their friendship, as well as a representation of themselves. They got the bigger ones when they got older.

When the Smiling Critters are in their older teen/young adult (18-19 year old) age, they left their old homes and went into a mysterious land. The reasons why is still being made, but I plan to write why they left when I do separate headcanons for the critters. Some of them are sad/angsty. And as I explain their backstories in their separate headcanons, I might explain the land too.

The critters pretty much had a reunion the moment they stepped foot onto this mysterious land.

This land had eight houses, but no one was living in them. The Critters pretty much went door to door and into the houses to see which one fits them better. And at that point, the Critters had houses of their own and the land became their own little secret neighborhood in the middle of nowhere.

The Critters lived in the land for two years and some of them write or call to their family and friends back at their old homes.

This is where the first episode of the Smiling Critters cartoon began to slowly take place.

The Smiling Critters are unaware they are cartoon characters and are watched by millions of eyes. 

Since they are cartoon characters, they often follow cartoon logic. Like being able to survive Bubba’s explosive chemical experiments and Hoppy jumping from star to star to get to the moon. Also, the fact that DogDay and CatNap can sit on the sun and moon.

The land where the Smiling Critters live in is a place where they were allowed to be themselves and not feel pressured or hurt by anyone else. They were allowed to have fun and pretty much be goobers. They were all happier there and pretty much, got to “S-M-I-L-E everyday!”

Unknown to the Critters, the land has given all eight of the critters some strange abilities. Being able to breathe their respective scent is one. CatNap is one of the rare ones as he breathes two scents.

The Smiling Critters are almost the same height, but they are around the same size (maybe slightly taller) as some of the rubberhose toons like Bendy, who I headcanon is around the same size as a certain famous toon mouse.

The Main 8 critters are the only Smiling Critters known in their little “town.” At least, that’s what they think (possible Smiling Critter OC?).

[crisp-nightime-air]

Here are me and my gf favourite dndaddies quotes. (Up until season 2 episode 23)

**spoilers to come

“I’m hungry and I kinda wanna fuck”

“He is my seed!!!”

“I burned down my first school!!”

“Who wants grape nuts?”

“No one!!!”

“Now two sad bags of bones that used to be people with hopes and dreams”

“Natures orgasm”

“Jizz likely”

“I’m wearing the condoms Ron!!!”

“ the Birkenstock’s were in you all along”

“If we all get into the fanny pack then the bear can get into the van”

“Daryl what do your dilf eyes see”

“Is that a d4 in your pocket or are you just that poorly endowed”

“It’s like watching a man chase down his very specific kink through tabletop role play”

“It’s role play masturbation”

“I can’t respect your choices when you don’t make good ones”

“You find more knives than not knives”

“Look at my butt hole dad”

“Yea look at his butthole”

“Balfazar drop me a fat ass poem”

“So your edging your cat??!???”

“Get yourself together the snake is dying”

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me”

“Dick daddy”

“My cat has never nutted and will never nut”

“We don’t need seat belts where we’re going”

“The horse doesn’t get the money, Glenn”

“Mountain don’t think, mountain do”

“It’s like a bra for your penis”

“A bunch of sexualised but private part not having felines”

“Do they have BUTTHOLES??”

“I’m hard rock big huge”

“Eldritch candy emergency”

“The entire episode is spent inside Darrell's butt”

“The curious case of the poop in the bathroom”

“John the Baptist flipping through the Old Testament “ain’t no rules says it can’t happen””

“A homunculus made of confidence and urine”

“Trapped in a piss boy”

“Frankly my dear I don’t have a frank”

“You do the hokey pokey and you turn into an eight year old”

“Don’t you ,forget about yeet”

“Human sized bird on a tiny pony”

“I’m fully cocked”

“I hate it when I go to the grocery store looking for Tapatío and they’re like “We only have Old Assblower” and I’m like “Okay, fine.”

“A brief encounter with a problematic vampire”

“Father! The after life…it is dark”

“Because Glenn could not stop for Death, we kindly killed Glenn”

“I’m burnt out from caring”

“Tell me it’s comic sans and I will cum”

“Never send a Matt to do a Glenn’s work”

“Why don’t you come down here and punish me daddy”

“I’m not that easily penetrated”

“That’s the last time you gonna see anybody come”

“I don’t have to be nice I’m aerodynamic”

“A Real man belongs in a mouth”

“It’s like my dick, my ass, and my balls have all seen a ghost”

“Does your butt look like house md now”

“Down with the immigrant”

“Matt nipple play Arnold”

“I’m Beth miracle nip May”

“You can finger something without touching the sharp end”

“Goblin? On deez nuts??!!????!?”

“Women are friends not cubes”

“You can’t really do a battle cry on resolving conflict”

“Tomorrow might be m for mature but today is for e for everyone”

“You couldn’t do 30 seconds of childhood”

“FOMO fire opportunity murder other thing”

“I turn to my directionless hippie family”

“Disenfranchised acolytes of oakvale”

“My daddy is god! My daddy is god!”

“I am willing to psychically dominate your father”

“If it’s a private school…..how do you know about it?”

“Say something racist William campos”

“Have you ever watched a porn?????? No one wants to see the guys face!!!!!”

“I got a detention in my pants”

“You see in order…..the same man twice and a boy that’s wrong”

“My husband is an heiress”

“The Apple doesn’t fall far from the weeb”

“Goth the friend zone iguana”

“We clocked the teen boy at 30 miles an hour”

“Coming out of my mom and I was feeling just fine”

“Scorpion slut”

“I have never pleasures a woman in my life and I don’t plan on starting now”

“Dick Spencer’s the name dick pleasures the game”

“It’s time for centrist vegan ice cream”

“I don’t think the fbi can help with this growth”

“My one dad left because he saw how gross the growth is”

“That means they’ve listened to me jerkoff 67 times”

“A routeeny”

“I’m not the smartest kid in the shed”

“This hole was made for me”

“I’m gonna wrap my vajay around your neck”

“You hit him directly with your vagina”

“Let the yeast do its thing”

“I love to please when I get head to…damn”

“The raccoons name is laaannhehahheh”

“Can you order calzone people?

Oh yea like a stripper”

“Jsut order party calzones!!”

“Does he want sentient or none sentient calzones?

He said he doesn’t want feet on them”

“You see the price on the recipe after we charge you”

“The sensual ghost Italian music playing in the back”

“A woman shat in the bathroom”

“You wanna slide inside a calzone with dad”

“To old to share a calzone with your papa”

“It’s not gonna be pleasant in that calzone”

“I have returned to the woomussy”

“Deep inside your pizzussy”

“Hi my name is Matt Arnold known misogynist”

Hi I’m will campos known woman lover”

“Hi I’m Beth may known woman”

“My first kiss was a threesome”

“You hear the sphincter of the cat open”

“Guys act like calzones!!”

“There’s a nipple on the bus hot shot”

“My neck, my back, MY PUSSY BUS!!”

“New you would pussy out you would pussy in”

“Don’t get cocky kid this is the only pussy you’re ever getting in”

“The dick kids don’t fall far from the dick tree”

“It’s been two days since you last jerked”

“She Johnny on my Apple tell I seed”

“What ever revs your engine as long as I get to drive the car”

“Come here baby and hold your body against mine and rub it around a little bit”

“”We‘ll talk about in a second” is the Wilson fucking family crest”

[burnwater13]

Hello? 

Hello!

Grogu here. I know I don’t usually do this. I don’t usually talk to you directly. I mostly tell you stories about how I think things went, how I wish things went, and how I think some things may go, some day in the nebulous future. 

I pretend that I can’t speak Gal Basic, although my reading level is pretty darn high and my vocabulary is pretty vast. I’m not sure how many of you have noticed that, but I thought I should confess to it, just in case you thought my scribe added all those embellishments. She doesn’t. I do. 

I also pretend that I’m in a galaxy far, far way. With my dad. The Mandalorian. You know the one. Din Djarin. The ‘The’ himself. But if I’m here with you, in your Milky Way galaxy, how could he be with me? I famously come from a species of critter that lives a very long time, so maybe, just maybe, it makes a tiny bit of sense that I’m here… but Din Djarin? He’s a human. How could he make the trip? In a word, he couldn’t. That’s a couple of words I know, but bear with me. 

One word. Wormhole. I know I’ve mentioned this before and I’m not an astrophysicist. I just read what they write. Ponder it for a while and then say, ‘Wow, those folks are pretty smart and good at maths’. I take them at face value and if they say the solution to inter-galactic travel is wormholes, then that’s how I did it and brought my dad with me. Easy peasy. 

Any way, why I’m here, talking directly to you today, is I’m a little tired of telling you the same story over and over and over again. Why, just this month alone, I’ve told you eight different stories that mention Ahsoka Tano. That’s a lot of stories about a person I knew for not that long a period of time. For example, I spent a lot more time with Peli Motto, IG-11, Kuiil, and Ian, but Ahsoka is the one who shows up in the photos, time after time. 

Now, Ian famously doesn’t like to have his photo taken. I’m never surprised that he’s managed to avoid being in the stack I use to tell these stories. He’s crafty that way. And he manages to find his way into a lot of stories even if I don’t have a photo to remind me because he just meant that much to me. I hope telling you about him has made him special to you as well. 

A few people have mentioned to me that all these great photos of Ahsoka may have been timed to support the release of her show. I hadn’t thought of that. I just thought that since the Empire had fallen and Vader was gone (actually, really gone, unlike that other guy), she had become a little more carefree and happy. While that may be true, it doesn’t really come across in today’s photo. Nope. Not at all. She’s being all fierce and kind of angry or resolute or annoyed. I’m not really all that good at reading Togruta facial expressions. Maybe she’d just stepped on a rock?

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I didn’t really set up this stack of photos that I use as prompts to tell the stories. That was done by someone else and all I can say is I hope they get better at it. I mean, you don’t just watch the same episode of my show everyday, do you? Of course not. You watched it once, or twice and then went on to watching something else. Hopefully Ahsoka’s show. Or the one about my old master, Obi-Wan. Or even that one that Diego stars in. Now that’s a great show. I’ve actually re-watched that one a couple of times. 

Which ever way it goes, I just wanted to take this moment to let you know that for the rest of the year there’s unlikely to be eight or nine stories about Ahsoka. Or Morgan Elsbeth for that matter. Wow, I think I only spent about ten minutes in her dark presence and it really left a mark. Ouch. 

Um, ahh… so just bear with me. I’ll do my best to make the rest of the stories, stories, for one thing, and funny, or thought provoking, or just pleasant… you know, like your first cup of caf in the morning. I’m joking about that. Din Djarin doesn’t let me drink caf. I just managed to finish a little bit of his this morning when he got distracted because R5 dropped a dish he was washing and it broke and got everywhere. Don’t worry. I didn’t get hurt. The Mandalorian didn’t get hurt. And R5 is just fine. He’s gluing that plate back together as I speak. 

Oops! Gotta go. Dad just noticed that his cup is empty. Dank Farrik! May the Force be with you. This is the Way. And have a nice day. I have spoken. 

[undercityrezident]

So I got around to watching the Pokeani episode today. I was expecting some sort of segue into the new direction the anime is taking, or at least some sort of preview in the episode. I didn’t get either of those, but I did get a nice warm feeling from the episode. It’s kind of goofy and lighthearted, but that’s what this series has been about, largely. It’s the start of a nice wrap-up that I had a feeling was coming.

I’ll admit, I’m a big sucker for those scenes where they’re just panning across vistas and various habitats and showing off pokemon just living in the world. It really does make me appreciate the world of pokemon itself. It’s been a nice place to fall back into over the years time and time again, even as so much changes in my real life.

But now, according to numerous announcements and trailers, it seems like we’re getting a new pair of protagonists for the anime going forward. Whether they’ll stick around from region to region like Ash did for so many years, or if the show-runners will introduce new ones every series, is completely up in the air at this point as far as I know.

Ash has been with me since I was around 10 years old. He’s was a staple of my childhood, and after a pokemon-related drought in my teenage years, I reconnected with the franchise and his adventures as I forged my own path in the world. It’s definitely been a journey with its ups and downs, but I’ve stuck with it for all the joys and frustrations of it.

I said as much in my review of the maser’s eight tournament finals (and I’m flabbergasted I managed to call it), but this is as good a time as any for Ash to be retired as the protagonist. I don’t see how they could take him any higher (I’m still working through Scarlet, so maybe there’s something there, but I’ve not seen it yet).

In any case, our boy has made it, proven himself, and made waves in his world and ours. After 25 years or so, he’s earned his retirement (even if he’s not aged much in canon). Trying to push Ash further would probably only be detrimental to his character, and I think the introduction of some new protagonists is a great idea.

While I know we have some time left with Ol’ Ash Ketchum, this news is definitely making me reflect on everything he’s been through, and what I’ve been through in watching him. Even if he wasn’t always my favourite, he’s been a constant and great example of steadfast determination and the simplicity of joy.

My hat’s off to you, Ash! Maybe we’ll see you around in some other capacity some day after your proper sendoff. But until then, take a bow Ash Ketchum: Champion of Alola, the Orange League, and the Master’s Eight Tournament. You’ve done us proud!

[the-duckless-pond]

My day has improved as it has gone on. I had some calm down time after my groceries arrived where I put my phone on do not disturb and put on my osha earphones with soothing lofi playing and sat on the couch watching my sun catcher. It was very relaxing.

Here it is catching the late morning sun! It was so sparkly and fun to watch. It sent rainbows all over my living room and dining room, too. I am looking forward to waking up tomorrow to see the sparkles again. And I definitely want more sun catchers now! The people I went to the Renn Faire with said they’d tell me next time they are going, and I am hoping to go with them at that time and visit that shop again and get another sun catcher to put on the left window.

After I felt less overwhelmed I did some of my French composition homework - chapter 1.1. I have to do 1.1 to 1.4 by the end of the week so I super need to get on that. I’ll do better for the next two week cycle and have a plan and a schedule. Anyway, so I did that and it was kind of hard because it’s all by myself and stuff and some of the exercises said to do it with a partner but I did my best by myself. Nice to get some use out of my iPad on good notes for its intended use (aka the whole reason I purchased it - drawing is just a fun bonus).

Then I took a bath because it sounded nice. I listened to a podcast called Myths and Legends while relaxing with Epsom salt in the tub, because my muscles are very sore from walking around for eight hours yesterday.

And then I briefly vented about how difficult I am finding an independent study class to my bff. I tried to keep the text small and short and not overwhelming. I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it. It’s just that I know I text a lot because I don’t have anyone else to text so I tend to go on and on and on. I am trying to not do that so much but it’s hard. Or maybe it’s okay that I do that? I’ve never asked tbh. I just text long messages when she doesn’t respond and shorter messages when she does because I figure if they are shorter they aren’t as scary, or something like that. I’m probably overthinking it. I also sent her a picture of my sun catcher this morning!

Anyway after all that I did exercices 1.2 which were not as numerous as those in 1.1 and only took fifteen minutes (mostly because I skipped the partner one but I’m going to do better on 1.3 and 1.4 I promise). Got to cross those off my list which felt really good! Other than doing my flash cards that was all the school stuff I had planned for today, but I might try to do 1.3 and 1.4 as well just to get them over with since they are proving difficult.

Now I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up and we are going to go get sodas and I am picking up some stuff from the old studio. After that I’ll put stuff away and finally finish setting up the tv area since I will have my surge protector and can plug everything in at long last! Then I am going to celebrate by watching an episode of SVU. Or maybe it would be safer to watch the news? Since I want to get more studying done today and it is easy to just click next episode on SVU.

I haven’t entirely decided what all I am grabbing besides my Amazon packages that got delivered there over the weekend. Maybe my vintage clothes or my winter scarves? Probably my vintage clothes. I need to figure out which ones I am keeping based on which ones still fit me after recovering from my ED and gaining 40lbs. I haven’t worn any of my vintage since before COVID. I told mom I would just do it at the old studio but I think it would be easier on my brain to do it here. So I guess I’ll grab those, in that case. I hope some of my favorites still fit. I mean, they’re all special and my favorite but there are four or five out of my collection that I really, really love.

For now, until mom arrives, I am just hanging out with the cats. Callie is on the cat stairs listening to the birds and the crickets (it’s so nice out today that the windows are still open) and Boo is purring on my lap. She weighed in at 9.2lbs today! That’s up 0.1lbs since the worrying weigh in that started all this. And she hasn’t been nauseous in two days :) this is usually her nausea time so I’m glad to hear her purring and see her happy.

Okay so, plan is this:

- hang out with cats

- see mom and pick up packages and vintage

- put away vintage and set aside time to go through collection and see what fits

- finish setting up tv area

[soildmud]

yalllll my gf just bought me bg3 today and i was so excited because its been on my wishlist for like ever and stuff so as soon as it allowed me to i started installing/downloading it—IT TOOK THREE FUCKING HOURS!!!!!! BECAUSE I’M POOR AND CAN’T GET SHIT TO OPTIMISE DOWNLOAD TIMES!!!!!!

but the worst part of it all….IT WON’T OPEN. it stopped responding every time i tried to open it up (i’m a mac user so i am already at a disadvantage) so i desperately look online as to what i have to do and according to steam i have to Verify File Integrity which i thought they were supposed to do after everything downloads, hence why it took 3 hours, because it took an extra hour to verify everything—but apparently there might be a file corruption or something idk i’m just a girl i know nothing about these things. BUT GET THIS: THE FILE VERIFICATION IS GOING TAKE OVER 24 HOURS TO COMPLETE. oh my god. why did i choose to quit my job and not save for a Real computer. why did i not ask for that for christmas. (no one had the money to buy one, that’s why—which is fine, i have never asked for anything expensive for christmas) WHY DID I HAVE TO GET ATTACHED TO BIG HUMONGOUS FUCKING GAMES THAT KILL MY LAPTOP!!!!!!!!!

i am usually a patient person yknow. i have willingly gone on 3 day nonstop car rides with my family of mentally unwell and untreated people. i have gone through almost 12 years of american public education without ever asking for accommodations to my crippling mental illnesses or deteriorating health. i have done hour long layovers while sick from anxiety and stress in airports full of stressful stimuli. i have gone thru a lot. but this was the straw that broke the camel’s back i think. as soon as i saw the number fluctuate between 22 to 1D 8hrs i just about cried. i felt defeated. i nearly threw a tantrum like a toddler because of this. i wanted to start pulling my hair out of my head and furiously scratch my skin until it bled out of pure and unbridled rage and frustration. (i am probably autistic and i think someone told me this could be a meltdown???) but i only merely grabbed my hair very harshly and started hyperventilating for a couple minutes before i sat down on my bed and started doing eye makeup. why??? idk.

all this is to say i am not happy with BG3 right now, even though the issue is not all with the game, but the fact that i am attempting to play it on a heavily aged macbook air that definitely was not made for playing anything above coolmathgames.com. my spring break is nearly over. i have like three days left. i just want to enjoy my freedom a little longer by making my little OC in this game and then putting them through The Horrors. i will update you all later, it is now 4:08AM and i have not slept for almost 24 hours. i feel sick to my stomach and my head hurts, but i think it’s because i made the foolish mistake of drinking about 20oz of coffee (which didn’t even taste good btw, because i had to make the coffee with a creamer that Wasnt my beloved oat milk creamer—i cannot enjoy my coffee if it is not made with the oat milk creamer. nothing else will suffice.) and then proceeded to make four different rainbow loom bracelets (i just bought the monstertail loom after debating whether or not i should) in rapid succession without breaks. i also watched eight episodes (maybe more) of the watcher podcast, because the coffee gave me extreme anxiety to the point where i had to carry scissors with me every time i left my bedroom because i was convinced there was someone in my apartment (but what would scissors have done??? i am incredibly out of shape and have never even fought another human being physically since i was under the age of 10) and the scissors were the only thing that would make me feel safer. and my phone in case i could hide and call 911.

sorry for the brain dump i am just incredibly sleep deprived and am waiting for my wife’s return from work—which should be soon! which means i’ll be okay and no longer anxious or stressed. SEE YOU LATER GUYS MIGHT DELETE THIS BUT IDK !!!!! SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON MY DOWNWARD SPIRAL!!!!!!!

[corpsentry]

i am deeply and terribly disappointed. finished xinghancanlan today and what the ever loving fuck was up with the last eight episodes. i don’t watch th a lot so i don’t experience this often but i get what they mean when they say ‘you can tell the director stopped caring, they rushed the ending, everything went down the drain’. every good thing i talked about in the post above disappeared after zisheng yoted his uncle. the last memorable moment for me was niaoniao riding in on a horse and scooping up zisheng like a baby. and maybe running through the woods. and the puppet theater backlit scene of zisheng splattering the inside of his uncle’s mansion with blood.

after that they should have both jumped, or zisheng should have died, or niao niao should have died, or— fuckin anything, dog. instead zisheng comes back and we get 8 episodes of moping and weeping and too long monologues and people staring at each other wistfully. everything that the show did so good up until the uncle yotage, and maybe even a little after— the flashbacks were reasonably done— the interesting transitions, the interrogative camera shots, the razor sharp humor, the playful, charged, and nuanced back and forth between zisheng and niao niao, their entire relationship, even the fuckin relationships with her parents that were the crux of the first half, even that!!!! all of it went down the FUCK ASS drain. and quan shanjian, oh my sweet babygirl….. tortured in da basement,,,,, left without girl…… this show did him dirty. he was repressed for a while but then all he did was good shit afterwards HE DESTVED BETTER!!!!

and the funniest part. niaoniao gets engaged three (3) times and breaks off the engagement every single time it is literally The Event of the story so you’d think, you’d THINK, that they’d show us the GODDAMN WEDDING after all the marriage misery but no!!! it ends right after the random battle with random guy with no development and half assed motivations, with everyone staring up at the stars. do people become stars when they die fuck if i know but i know i’m going to become a ghost and haunt whoever made them fuck this up so bad. they had such a good thing going. the first half is stronger than xihuazhi in everything — filmography, score, acting, story scale and breadth, and character development. but xihuazhi nailed its ending. the characters found what they were looking for, both in love and in their family lives, and their personal growth. xinghancanlan …………….. i wish i’d stopped watching after zisheng launched his new name. that would have left a better taste in my mouth. they had such a wonderful cast and they made that wonderful cast do fuckall for the last 6, 7 episodes of a show with the potential to nail a seismic ending. it could have changed lives

but no. 还是惜花芷最好 i thought lltg would be blossoms in adversity as in good solid story and characters but with a different scale. but no. and this thing has damn fuckin high reviews. so now what. i was searching for other historical dramas (it’s the only genre my mom’ll watch so that’s what we do) and many other shows with excellent reviews also have the same ‘last 10 episodes were rushed, ending was half assed’ phenomenon. i fear i will never find anything as tightly woven as bia again. i’m so angry. you know i’ve cried like 5 times total since i started t and the ending of xihuazhi was one of them????? it was LEGENDARY. and now there will never again be something like it. fuck it i’ll watch amidst a snowstorm of love or whatever the fuck bing bong going to become a monk

i have derailed myself. down terrible for shaoshang xinghancanlan lltg and speedrunning both parts as fast as possible with my mother. we um. binged 30 episodes in the last five days………….. me when the hetero period drama is treated not like a trashy ya novel where everyone has big eyes small face (listening to 银河漫漫盼归期 on the bus to jb like a weirdo) it is hard to put into words the sheer kind of resignation i have approached the xianxia/wuxia/general chinese period drama genre with for the past few years as after cql and woh we watched love between fairy and devil and til the end of the moon and who rules the world and dawg that shit made me Cry…. after much thought i have come to the realization that i have a personal vendetta against stories that only progress because there are 1) evil characters and 2) stupid characters i.e. there is blinding frustrating cheek gnawing cruelty askance but that shit just keeps looping because the protagonists are sooooo nice — that is to say, STUPID AS BALLS— and don’t assert themselves. xinghancanlan (and the drama we finished just before, xihuazhi (blossoms into adversity (dogshit english localized titles, i sob)) is so incredibly fucking refreshing on a basic storytelling level because it doesn’t linger. no misery porn (see: love between fairy and devil, til the end of the moon), no dragging out the jealous cousin who keeps torturing the protag and co, instead the plot! just! keeps! moving! it’s got places to go! and it motherfucking goes to them. god i want to eat til the end of the moon’s flashbacks alive anyway (separate story, very long) xinghancanlan also does so many levels of character storytelling and it does it like HELL the amount of care given to each parent child relationship in particular lord i haven’t seen a parent child relationship written with such nuance and care in a long time, if ever, as the one between shaoshang and her mom there is no villain!!! everything is terrible!!!! art imitates reality. and then you get her and her dad, ling buyi and the whole situation going on over there, the emperor, even wang ling’s family— these are not archetypes. they’re people. and that’s so nice. that the homies over there produced a show that lingers not on the agonizing nail ripping sobfests but on how hard it is to be a person

and then there is the fact of the production itself. not to fist my own ass or pat this one’s but this show approaches scene writing and transitions the way i approach my own writing and i have never seen that in any tv series let alone a chinese period drama where girl meets guy and it goes so FUCKIN HARD. i give example. character A and B gossip about character C for a brief period. “C is such a whiny bitch,” B says (this is a close-up shot). cut immediately to a close-up shot of C whining to D, and then one of D replying. just like that we have transitioned between place, time, and characters with this kind of fun witty filmography and writing that makes it feel like this scene is a continuation of the last due to the same style of face to face interrogation. but we are in an entirely different place

or, abruptly there is a scene of violence and brutality yet unseen in the show. it fades to black, and character H shudders awake at her desk. “i just had a terrible dream,” she says. but the scene after that is a continuation of the violence and brutality of earlier and we come to realize that this is very much a real moment in the story. the audience has been played by an inverse ‘it was just a dream’. it was not just a dream. even though it was shocking and gruesome. the story is moving to new places now

and more generally, the score reminds me so strongly of beijing opera with the way the music describes and foreshadows minute gestures; shifting eyes, a tic in the left hand, the slightest drop of one’s shoulders. there are new and interesting, relevant, thought provoking transitions in each scene. the framing of shots emphasizes specific character emotions and mental scapes. and shanjian is an emotionally repressed loser. it’s just so. so. (howling for 85 years). fucking dazzling to see a piece of art that has clearly been made with such care, my guys. and also is fun to watch. and is obviously having fun itself. i am reminded of the ways in which art can save people’s hearts as this saves mine. and shaoshang makes me want to cry, is such a hot mess and not at all one, gives so few shits and altogether too many, is just learning how to hold the love that others give her without trying to call it something else-/ she is so tender. i’m throw myself off a cliff right now. all day i have been wandering around jb muttering to myself about the beautiful and good things in the world. it can change your life to see someone smile even if it is fictional character cheng shaoshang from xinghancanlan. cannot stop thinking about this damn show. thank u for listening

[mandareeboo]

Things I’ve noticed while re-watching Owl House:

Eda’s been living on borrowed time since season 1. She thought she was going to disappear on that bridge, and she certainly didn’t expect to have her time non-feathered to be doubled. That (and other things) has led her to be much more willing to die in season 2- she isn’t running anymore, but she’s not fighting much either. She plans to go out with Raine. She plans to hand herself over to the Emperor. She plans to die on the Day of Unity with Lilith as long as King and Luz are far, far away. Finally she plans to die in front of the entire city of Bonesborough to give Luz and King a better future

Eda put a LOT of work into being Luz’s mentor. It’s not really mentioned but in episode four she states that she “hasn’t figured out how old Witches performed magic”, but in Adventures in the Elements she has a whole training itinerary planned around elements and how connecting was/is important to old Witches. We also see she had a GIANT stack of overdue library books. I’m willing to bet she put a lot of time and reading into helping Luz with her glyphs.

Luz probably overheard Camila’s statement about Vee being “such a strong girl” and may have been somewhat hurt bc Camila implied she’d not had that before. It’s not intentional on Camila’s part but we all know Luz goes the extra mile to feel ashamed.

Even though Hunter tells Luz to stop messaging him he still apologizes when he sends her a photo of Flapjack. Idk I just think that’s polite and cute.

Of the covens we know the least about Construction magic. With Oracles we at least know about their mummy things they bring out. All we know about Construction is power glyphs and that they seem to almost earthbend

If Alador hasn’t had a day off in five years but has only recently stopped talking to the kids bc of the Abomatons that implies he was still socially active in their lives to some degree.

Belos saying Hunter looked the most like his brother while also having given him that big fuck off cheek scar makes me feel like at one point he really hated that and tried to “change” it

Luz and Hunter are the only characters in the show to have had any prolonged discussions with Belos. Even Kiki only got a few orders and jabs and that’s it. Just a subtle bit of his distaste for Witches even today.

Likewise Luz and Hunter both share the common denominator of being scarred by Belos

Even though Boscha keeps her word not to outright bully the gang after losing in Grudgby she still keeps surprisingly intertwined in their day-to-day lives, even stopping by Luz’s club to pester her AND seeming to be legitimately interested in Luz’s life goals. I feel like in Boscha’s mind she sees it as like. Rival pals.

Despite being a giant bigot Belos still called Kikimora “Kiki” once or twice. It literally doesn’t matter I just find it hilarious. “I hate Witches and witchcraft but I draw the line on not using nicknames.”

Considering King didn’t live in his hatching place OR have the engraving on his collar for like eight years of his life if the Collector hadn’t been busy with Belos he likely would’ve found him instantly with the wanted posters

Lilith saw Eda as “dangerous” and “misguided” and I think a lot of that drew back to when she witnessed the Owl Beast attack and permanently disable their father

Raine only knew Eda for like seven months before she became cursed. They’ve literally known her for most of her life but almost all of that time came from after that point. Idk I just think it’s interesting bc Eda always saw her curse as a burden but to Raine it’d been part of her life so long they probably feel like it’s just... her.

The Day of Unity had basically nothing to do with Phillip going home, it was just a “fuck you all and die” as he left.

I feel like no one really talks about this but Gwendolyn and Dell are Wild Witches. Yes they're both in covens but Dell is secretly regrowing damage done by Belos and Gwen seeks outside-coven help AND steals magic artifacts to try to heal Eda, like none of this is legal

Also I feel like no one talks about how the pain sharing spell and the fist raising Eda and Lily do as kids is probably Wild in origin. No one else uses verbal spells and we've seen organized witches duels today and they don't do that gesture.

Vee is a very quiet and easily panicked girl and while that's perfectly natural after all she's been through when 'Luz' came back from camp Camila probably assumed the worst

Unless we get a flashback to King’s dad or a flash-forward to grown-up King we will never see a grown living Titan.

[staygoldwriting]

Hello! It's me againn~

If it's okay can I have a request with Eddie × Reader wherein both of them are already parents. Usually the reader gives their young boy (they named their kid after a Tolkien character) a milk before sleeping but the reader was surprised the next morning when there is no milk left when she completely remembered that there is some left then it turns out the culprit was Eddie. Eddie who also drinks from that carton milk since he kept on having midnight snacks every now (he pairs up the milk with some bread or smth hihi your choice) and then most especially when he got something on his mind. So, the next evening after that when she bought groceries and there is a new boxes of milk in the fridge he does it again thinking she would never caught him , but, the reader did and now Eddie was surprised that the reader caught him then he gets flustered about it and he stammers to explain himself thinking she would be angry but she would eat with him though she would warn him to go ask him next time and that she would be there to listen to what he has in mind or when he just want to eat and Eddie agreed and liked that and they ended up reminiscing stuff and hoping their little boy won't hear his parents eating at midnight.

Sorry if it was a long, it's okay if it's not possible still thank uu 💖

Hello, my sweet friend! I'm sorry this one took a while, but I hope you enjoy it! It was a fun, new challenge 😄

I hope you enjoy this, and please show love and support as always! ❤️✨

Word count: 1325

Warnings: fluff, parent Eddie/reader

For @murnsondock 💙

🍪 Cookies and Pop Tarts

“Looks like our little boy has fallen asleep before finishing his milk,” you smile as you dangle the half-full bottle in front of Eddie.

“He had a long day today,” Eddie said, walking up to you and kissing your lips. He leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to store the milk.

“Did I use all the milk?” you said to yourself, feeling like your brain was failing. “Eddie, did I use all the milk for Eomer’s bottle?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, trying to look innocent. “It’s okay, baby, we still have a little left,” he said, pointing at the bottle. 

“I guess. I’ll just have to run to the store tomorrow,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Come on, let’s watch some tv before bed.”

As you laid on the couch, already half asleep, you felt the couch dip as Eddie sat down, a pack of cookies in his hand. You two watched some episodes of Cheers, and you soon fell completely asleep to the sound of Eddie’s soft laughs.

You woke up in bed about an hour later, and rolled over to see Eddie still with his cookies, but also with a glass of milk. He was reading a book, his eyebrows furrowed as he crunched on a milk-soaked cookie. 

Did Eddie have a glass of milk earlier? Your sleepy mind was so confused, so you decided to roll over and drift off to sleep again. Knowing your son, it would be an early morning.

You woke up, as predicted, between seven and eight AM to Eomer calling for you, and the two of you got up to make breakfast as Eddie slept in a little more. Since he was working more often than you, you wanted to give him some extra time to catch up on sleep. 

After doing your morning ritual of tooth-brushing and face-washing, you carried Eomer down to the kitchen to make some waffles. Eomer loved pressing the buttons on the toaster, so he was in charge of everything except pulling the hot waffles out, seeing as he’s only three years old. As he sloppily poured syrup on the three plates, you opened the fridge to get some juice, and you stepped back for a second in shock.

“Baby, did you drink all your milk last night?”

“I don’t know, Mama,” Eomer replied, dangling his feet. 

“It’s alright, I’ll just buy some more at the grocery store today. Wanna come? Maybe we can convince Dada to go too since he doesn’t have work!”

Eomer giggled as you kissed his forehead. You gave him a sippy cup with juice as you poured two tall glasses for you and Eddie. Each of you had a special spot at your little dining table, each with a personalized placemat. Eomer’s had Winnie the Pooh and Friends on it, Eddie’s had the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and yours had Garfield. Eddie walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes, his hair a matted mess. He smiled as he saw you buckling Eomer into his high chair, and walked over to you both.

“Good morning, my favorite people,” he smiled, kissing your lips and Eomer’s head. 

“Hi, Dada,” Eomer giggled, playing with his waffle.

“Morning, my love,” you hummed as you both sat down to eat. 

“How did everyone sleep?” Eddie asked.

“Well, thanks,” you smiled, ruffling your baby’s hair. “I didn’t realize that this little one drank all his milk last night! 

Eddie choked on his juice and coughed.

“Did you, big boy? Wow!” he said, sounding awkward.

“No matter, we’re going to the store today,” you smiled. 

🍪

Your trip to the store was successful, and you made sure to buy two cartons of milk this time. It seemed to be going away at a normal pace, but after a couple of days, you went to fill up Eomer’s bottle, only to find the old carton was finished and the new one was half empty. You peeked over at Eddie, who was watching tv in the living room. He had a tall glass of milk and a box of cookies by his side. Strange. There was already an empty box of cookies in the trash. 

“I’m going to give Eomer his bottle, I’ll be back downstairs in a little bit,” you said, kissing Eddie. 

“Okay, my love, take some sustenance with you,” he said, popping a cookie in your mouth. You smiled, kissing him again and walking upstairs. 

You finished getting Eomer ready for bed, and you walked back downstairs. As you put Eomer’s bottle in the fridge, the other carton of milk was gone. You looked over at Eddie: a new box of cookies and a fresh glass of milk. You were onto him.

“Aha! I knew it!” you exclaimed with a smile. 

“Knew what?” Eddie asked.

“Tsk, tsk, stealing milk from our son,” you joked, hands on your hips.

“Oh, that, right,” Eddie stuttered. “I’m so sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to drink it all, but I tend to snack a lot when I get stressed, and I feel like you’ve had so much on your mind and I don’t know how to help ‘cause I’m always at work, and I don’t know, but I really didn’t mean to, and I didn’t mean to take food from Eomer, I just--”

“Eddie, Eddie, sweetheart! It’s okay,” you smiled, sitting down.

Eddie sighed heavily as he looked at you, still feeling guilty.

“I really am sorry,” he said, and you kissed his nose.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, baby,” you smiled. “Can I show you something?”

Eddie nodded as you led him to the kitchen.

“I always say that we keep the china up here,” you said, moving a box of glasses, “but it’s where I hide my Pop Tarts and Dr. Pepper.”

“No way,” Eddie said. “And just how long have you had this little stash?” he said, smirking playfully.

“Well, I need you to first remember that I was very, very forgiving of your milk and cookie habit…” you started innocently.

“How long?” Eddie said, backing you up to the counter, still smirking.

“Since I first got pregnant with Eomer?” you said, trying your best to be casual. 

“Y/N Munson. I cannot believe you would keep this from your husband,” he said, leaning closer.

“Can you ever forgive me, light of my life?” you giggled.

“Perhaps,” Eddie said, kissing you. “But only if you share your Pop Tarts.” 

“That can be arranged,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And hey, if you’re stressed, you can always talk to me. I know we’re getting older, but I can still stay up late and talk. Dr. Pepper goes great with cookies.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. And hey, you too! Don’t think I didn’t notice that your stash is a little low too. Have you been stressed?”

“A little, I guess,” you sighed. “I feel like Eomer is growing up so quickly. It makes me sad sometimes.”

“We can always try for a little Eowyn,” he replied sweetly, poking at your stomach.

“Hm, but will we have enough milk for another baby with your habits?” you laughed, cupping your mouth, trying not to wake Eomer. 

“We can make do,” Eddie said sassily, then softened. “We didn’t have much of anything when we first had Eomer.”

“I know,” you said, boosting yourself onto the counter. “Sometimes I miss how plain our little apartment used to be, just the little couch your uncle gave us, two forks, two spoons, two knives, two plates, two of everything it seemed!”

“I miss it too sometimes,” Eddie smiled. “Now it’s just cluttered,” he chuckled.

“And filled with gorgeous artwork,” you said, gazing at some finger painting, a joint project made by your two favorite boys.

“I love you, our little apartment, and our boy,” Eddie said dreamily, kissing your nose.

“The Milk Thief steals lines too,” you giggled, kissing him. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Eddie taglist: @alphashadows @tillkummer @mlle-ayka @fanficfanatic204 @gttrgrrl @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @steves-robin @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @efvyqrs @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @simpingoverfictionalppl @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @hollandcomics @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @elizabeth-or-lily @tooobsessedsstuff @srapalestina @hawkinshottie86 @munsongalblogs @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-tittie @middle—fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[charliethomascoxuniverse]

Teen star of RTE's Kin reveals how show got her in trouble at school

School goer Hannah Adeogun plays Michael's estranged daughter Anna

SHOWBIZ By Katie Gallagher   11 OCT 2021 (X)

...Lifting the lid on how she tapped into that inner emotion within her complex character, Hannah revealed writer and creator Peter McKenna encouraged her to draw from her own life experiences and life as a teenager today.

And the star, who caught her first break three years ago as Ella on Irish drama Women on the Verge, said that often proved draining to portray.

But she credited the show boss, and her co-star Charlie Cox, who plays Michael for helping her throughout the process.

“It was really great having them there to help me because becoming Anna is emotionally draining and it takes a lot to pull all those emotions.. Because she is going through so many emotions. And to have them there, to say you are doing great really helped. Becoming Anna with them was really great and I couldn’t have asked for better people to do it with.”

The school goer also told how she and her parents couldn’t help but ‘fangirl’ over the group of huge stars she was starring alongside in the new RTE hit.

“Especially Ciaran Hinds,” she said. “I was a big fan girl over Ciaran Hinds because he was in the last Harry Potter movie, so when I found out he was in it, I had a really big fan girl moment. I’m not in any big scenes with him, but knowing he is in the same TV show that I am in was such a big achievement for me, and it made me really proud of myself.

“And my dad was obsessed with the fact I was working with him [Charlie], because he was in Daredevil. And when I found out he was in it, I watched it, and was even more intimidated by it and I was so shocked and like ‘oh now I have to up my game and be really mature with how I do this.”

~*~

National World

Charlie Cox interview: the actor on Irish crime drama Kin and when he’s returning to the MCU as Daredevil

Charlie Cox discusses the UK debut of his crime drama Kin, his upcoming Netflix show Treason, and his Marvel Cinematic Universe return

By Alex Moreland     24th February 2022 (X)

On another note, but kind of picking up on that idea of family, which is a big theme in the show: some of your best scenes were with Hannah Adeogun, who plays Michael’s daughter. She’s 15, which is a little bit younger than you were when you started acting professionally – did that prompt you to reflect back on your own career at all? Did you have any advice for her at all?

Charlie Cox: “Hannah was fantastic, and I loved doing the scenes with her. I loved working with her – it was really exciting to me, and challenging, because it’s the first time I’ve played a father on screen, and I am a father. It was exciting to kind of, you know, bring my own experience into that relationship.

I feel like – I know it’s probably only a few years difference – but I got my first professional job I think at 19. For me, there was a big difference between 15 and 19. I also I think Hannah was 14 when we shot this? Maybe I’m wrong about that. But I had left school, and I’d also had other jobs and stuff, I’d worked, so it was slightly different.

I don’t tend to offer advice unless I’m asked, and Hannah seemed to have it all. I remember, there was an audition where they asked me to read with her. She did it one way, and it was good, it was fine. And then Diarmuid [Goggins, who directed the first four of Kin’s eight episodes] spoke to her a bit about the scene and blah blah blah – she did it again, and it had a new depth to it. That was enough for me, and for all of us, I think to say right, well, she’s got whatever it takes. She’s got it. I guess, you know, the thing with acting is it’s about how easily can you access it, once you’re in front of a camera or in front of a crew? That’s the question.”

~*~

[springgirlwaiting4fall]

The Nanny: Eddie Kingston and You

Part Eight

Part 7

Waiting to turn 30 is torture. You try focus on work and school, but it’s so hard when Eddie keeps texting you. Each morning he text you the number of days left until your birthday.

Through out the day you two will send text messages asking each other questions about your likes and dislikes. And at the end of the day you text each other about different things that happened.

Two days before your birthday you are home in bed watching tv when your phone rings. The caller id says Eddie and your heart sores with excitement.

When you pick up before you can here Eddie mumbling to himself. “Fucking stupid. Calling her. Do people her age even call each other to ask…”

You stop yourself from giggling and pretend to not of her heard him when you say hello.

“Hey Y/N.” He clears his throat. You can tell Eddie is feeling insecure about himself. “I was calling because I didn’t want to text this.” You feel yourself deflate a little, could he be canceling your date. “I just.” Eddie sighs before continuing. “I just realized that I never really asked you out. Just kind of told you. So I was wondering sweets, if I could take you out to eat…I mean treat you to dinner on your birthday?”

While he is talking it suddenly makes sense why he sounds so off. Eddie Kingston is nervous about asking you out. The last two weeks you have been thinking non stop about this date and Eddie is just as nervous as you. “Eddie, I would love to have dinner with you on my birthday.”

“Okay.Good.” Eddie sounds relieved. You remember that he doesn’t drive and instead offer to pick him up. Eddie won’t tell you where he is taking you, but he tells you to dress like it’s your birthday. You have no idea what that mean and try to get him to give you hints. Eddie is definitely flirting back when he tells you no.

Now that everything is settled, the two of you can hang up. Instead you two talk until you start falling asleep. The last thing you hear before completely drifting off is “sweet dreams sweets,” before Eddie hangs up.

The day before your birthday you can’t sleep. It’s been too long since you seen Eddie and just hearing his voice and texting him isn’t enough. You have to take a melatonin pill and put on a show you seen all the episodes too at least twice before falling into a restless sleep.

In the morning you go to your Math class. It’s a review before an exam and it’s only you and 4 other people. So by the end of class you feel way more confident for the test. Plus the professor noticed that it was your birthday on the sign in sheet, so he gave everyone who showed up today a bonus 5 points. It was a great way to start your day.

That afternoon you drove to work. Renee had an interview with Nyla Rose, Renee tried to reschedule so you could have the day off, but it just didn’t work out.

Stella was in such a good mood and loved to show off her new walking skills that the couple hours flew by. You still couldn’t help yourself thinking of what Eddie was doing.

Renee paid you with a very generous birthday gift bonus in your paycheck. Stella gave you the new Sailor Moon Vans. The ones you desperately wanted, but talked yourself out of them. After thanking Renee about hundred times, she told you to go and enjoy your birthday.

While getting ready The way Renee told you to have fun made you wonder if she knew you were going out with Eddie. You hadn’t said anything. Could that mean Eddie told her or more likely Jon about it. Who than told Renee?

Before leaving you stopped and made sure that you hair and makeup was still in place. You had finally decided on a red dress that was a little more tighter and shorter than what you would normally wear and heels. Eddie did say dress like it was your birthday.

[mskatesharma]

There are worse things to criticize but today I’m hung up on how we got 60+ minutes on a wedding that wasn’t even Kate’s. Like what? I honestly am whatever about the engagement going that far, but Edwina’s epiphany and the aborted wedding could’ve been done in 20 minutes. It didn’t need to take up a whole episode. So much back and forth and redundancy and filler.

Anon, the way that wedding episode fucking DRAGGED jfc. When I was watching it for the first time I kept checking how long was left because I felt like I was watching the same scene over and over again. It was so long, and for what? So Edwina could have countless speeches that made zero fucking sense? (Ngl, I haven't even rewatched that scene with the king, or with one the queen where they're surrounded by all the jewels, I just...I have zero patience and incentive to sit through them lol.) So that I could see the same thing being rehashed in the sideplots for the tenth time? So I could see Kate being made to feel like shit for the upteenth fucking time? Like, such a long episode and Mary disappears halfway fucking through and can't be bothered to go and check on her daughter who she told to go away? A daughter who stepped the fuck up while Mary was lost in her grief by the way??

(People give Violet so much shit for what she put Anthony through when Edmund died, and for some of the stuff she still says and does, but at least she 'came back' from her grief? The show wants us to believe that it isn't until shit hits the fan that Mary stops being so absent, (which I think is eight years since Mr Sharma died), and yet Kate doesn't get half as much grace as Anthony does for what she's had to do in the face of a parent lost to grief, and for a lot fucking longer too, and without the money and resources Anthony had at his disposal too. HOW DOES MARY NOT GO AND CHECK ON KATE?? AND NEITHER DOES LADY DANBURY??? Sorry not the point of this post but I'm pissed about it so whatever.)

Literally, this episode should have focused on the fallout of a broken engagement/wedding, instead of dragging out the 'will they or won't they actually get married'. Once Edwina figured it out, that should have been it; she should have told Anthony to fuck off, instead of making it seem like she might still marry him simply to spite her sister. Like they obviously wanted this to be 'Edwina's' episode, but so much of it is infuriating because the writing is so fucking awful that I find a lot of it too insufferable to watch. Like I fully maintian episode 6 > episode 2, but that is literally only because we see Kate and Anthony finally kiss, and we get to see Anthony lose his shit over Kate while stood at the alter with her sister. That's it.

Lbr, they only made it to the wedding because CVD and the writers wanted drama, even though it made no sense. And I will never be over just how bad the writing was for this episode, because despite Edwina being deserving of having her moment, they made it about things that made no fucking sense and it was annoyingly self righteous. How the fuck do you mess it up that badly??

[classydreamlandalpaca]

TDP Meta

So like a lot of people I have been rewatching the first 3 seasons of The Dragon Prince in preparation for season 4. Someone else might have mentioned this before, but I realized something during my season 3 episode 6 rewatch. Avizandum tells Harrow and Viren that “today is special day, a day of life.” During my first few times watching this episode I always thought this meant that Zym’s egg was laid that day. However, this time watching the episode I realized this couldn’t be the case. In the Bloodmoon Huntress graphic novel we find out that the Dragon Guard was made specifically to guard the unhatched dragon egg. Rayla’s parents were part of the Dragon Guard and they left to join the dragon guard at the start of the graphic novel. I don’t know how old Rayla was in the graphic novel, but I think she was eight. Either way it is probably safe to say that Zym’s egg was laid over five years before the events in the show’s storyline and the scene with Avizandum in season 3 episode 6 happened months before the events in the show’s storyline. The only thing I can think of that makes sense is that Avizandum thought that Zym’s egg was going to hatch that day. Also, Lujanne explains in the season one finale that storm dragons can only be born in the eye of a storm. In the Avizandum scene it is snowing. Avizandum and Zubeia probably were going to use the eye of the snow storm to hatch Zym’s egg that day. This makes me really sad because Rayla came so close to having her whole family back. Her parent’s told her that after Zym’s egg hatched they would come back. Instead of them coming back and her whole family being reunited she lost all of her family.

[just-my-fandom]

Rocky Road P1 (JJ Maybank x Routeledge! Reader)

This is a test chapter. If it gets the attention I want it to, we’ll continue. If not, this will be the only chapter, mainly because of the time each chapter takes since each episode ranges between 40 to 50 minutes.

Chapter 1

Word count: 3,538

Summary; After a hurricane, John B, Y/N, JJ, Pope, and Kiara plunge headlong into danger and adventure when they find a mysterious sunken wreck.

Pairing(s); John B Routledge x Twin Sister! Reader, JJ Maybank x Girlfriend! Reader, Pope and Kiara x Best Friend! Reader

Tag list; Currently None.

“We’re the Pogues, and our misson this summer is to have a good time, all the time,”

“That’s what, a three-story fall to the deck?” The dark male at the bottom of the house, Pope Heyward, looks up at the brunette boy balancing on the roof before him, “I give you a one-in-three chance of survival,”

John B hums in thought, licking his finger before raising it to the sky, allowing the wind to hit said finger, “Should I do it?”

“Yeah,” A girl with (hair/color) locks and warm, (skin/tone) skin dangles her legs from the roof next to her twin brother, body leant up against the blonde male beside her, “You should definitely jump,”

“I’ll shoot you on the way down,” Pope promises, raising the staple gun in his hand so John B raised his eyebrows, pointing two fingers in a gun motion,

“They’re gonna have Japanese toilets with towe warmers,” A female with dark hair and dark skin climbs out of the unfinished home, looking up at her group of friends, “This used to be a turtle habitat, but, who cares about the turtles, I guess?”

“I care about the turtles, Kiara,” You fake a small pout to your best friend, reaching a hand over the railing to grab her fingers and squeeze,

“Can you please not kill yourself?” Kiara looks up and squints at your brother,

“Don’t spill that beer!” JJ calls up, one arm draped at your shoulders as the other raises his can to his lips, “I’m not giving you another one,”

On cue, John B lets out a curse as the beer can slips from his fingers, dropping and clashing onto the porch of the unfinished home beneath him,

“Smooth,” Kiara mumbles, looking over at a distant shout,

“Hey, uh, security’s here,” Pope states, and you clap your hands, sliding beneath the railing to jump down next to Kiara, JJs hand tapping your back thigh in a motion for you to start running,

“Boys are early today,” John B hops down, feet taking off into a sprint,

Your lips pull into a grin as you follow after your twin brother, pushing past shelves and jumping over paint cans through the constructed house,

“Hey, Gary!” You call, skidding past the older, bigger man, “No hugs for you today!”

You giggle as JJs hands lift your hips to raise you above the gate, his body dropping next to you before his hand takes yours and squeezes, allowing you to hop into the van before he follows after you, laughing,

“Hey, there’s Gary!” Pope calls, JJ leaning out the vans door to hold out a beer can to Gary’s running figure,

“You’re so close! You can do it, there you go!” With a toss, JJ watches the can hit Gary upside the head, “They don’t pay you enough, bro,”

“Okay, that’s enough,” You snort, tugging JJ into the van so the door shut, JJs body dropping next to yours with an excited breath of rushed adrenaline.

“The Outer Banks, Paradise on Earth. It’s the sort of place you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island,”

“Alright, this is Figure Eight, the rich side of the island. Home of the Kooks. So guess where we don’t live. And then this is the South Side, or the Cut. Home of the working class who make a living busing tables, natural habit of, drumroll please,”

“The Pogues,”

You lift up the hook to the HMS Pogue, turning to shield the sun from your eyes with your hand. Moving across the boat, you move into where the steering wheel took place, JJ looking at you past his sunglasses and sliding a hand to your bare back,

“That’s Y/N,” John B introduces, “My twin sister and my pain in the ass. Or, blue bird as our father used to call her. Y/N is our mom of the group, somehow keeps us stable and in check from getting arrested three or four times a day,”

“And that’s JJ. My best friend since the third grade. He’s about as local as they come. Latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who made their living off the water. Best surfer I know. Just, don’t tell him I said that,”

You yelp as your body drops into the water, awaiting for the wave above you to settle before rising above the surface. You snort, JJ stepping off his board playfully so he landed beside you with a hard splash,

“Together they’re known as Outer Banks’ OTP, as Kiara puts it. Been together since seventh grade and still going strong. Of course even with JJ as my best friend, I still gotta hand his ass to himself sometimes,”

“Don’t even get me started on micro plastic,” Sitting at the bonfire, Kiara is quick to shove John B away from the choke hold he puts her in,

“And that’s Kiara, or Kie, as we call her. When she’s not saving turtles or getting a dolphin tattoo with Y/N, she hangs out with us. I’m not really sure why, though. Pope thinks she’s secretly madly in love with my sister and uses us to get to her, but, I can’t see Y/N leaving JJ for even Chris Hemsworth, and that’s saying something,”

“And that’s Pope, the brains of the operation, finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship, and the smartest person I know. His fathers this legendary character, Heyward. Anything you wanted on the island, Heyward could get for you,”

“So, that’s my crew,”

“John, Y/N, it’s come to our attention that you both are unemancipated minors living on your own,” The social worker in front of you at her desk sighs,

“No,” You and John B instantly respond, sharing glances before you grimace, “No,”

“I need honesty to help you,” The woman responds, eyebrow raised, “That’s what we want, right?”

“Yeah,” You nod, shrugging, “But we’re being honest,”

“Okay,” The woman leans back, “When was the last time either of you spoke to your uncle,”

You look at your wrist- with no watch- glancing at John B who shifts in his seat, “Uh, thirty-four minutes ago,”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

John B looks at you this time. “Two hours and,” You pause, “Fourty-three minutes ago?”

“Kids, we’re gonna come out there tomorrow to talk to your uncle,” The worker sighs, again, “If he’s not there, we’re gonna move forward with foster care,”

You exhale a sharp breath, hand running down your face.

“Keep an eye for Hurricane Agatha. She’s coming hard and heavy tonight,”

“No phone service?” John B groans as he raises to his feet, body heavy with sleep. His finger flicks the light switch. Nothing. “No power?”

John B exits his bedroom to depart to the living area. On the pull out couch, laid his sister and best friend. While you laid on your back, breaths even, JJ laid on his stomach, arm draped across your tank-top covered chest with his head beside yours,

“Yo, JJ,” John B calls, hand smacking JJs upper back so JJs head snapped up, his movement startling you to lift your own head, “You been outside?”

“I have polio, bro,” JJ mumbles, lips pressed to your shoulder, “I can’t walk,”

You heave a laugh, turning to curl into JJ so his arm slid around your hip and pulled you closer. You finally heave a breath, pulling away from JJ so he moaned in protest, your grin tired as you grab his hand and pull him up with you,

“Agatha did some work, huh?” JJ calls out to John B in the front yard, leaning against the open screen door with a found beer in his hand, and looking at the time, you choose not to scold him for his choice of drink as soon as he woke up,

“Yeah she did,” John B hums, tossing a branch off the boat that was brought out to shore.

“C’mon,” You call, pulling your tank top off so you were left in the bikini you fell asleep in, “Gods telling us to fish,”

“What do we have here?” You lift a hand to shield your eyes, watching Pope turn to look at you from his deck,

“We have a safety meeting,” John B calls, hand at his shoulder in a fake walkie-talkie, “Attendance mandatory,”

“Cant, Pops got me on lockdown,” Pope frowns, JJ scoffing,

“Your dads a pussy, over,”

“Oh I heard that, you little bastard,” Heyward snaps, and you raise your chin with a smile,

“We need your son,”

“And hurricane days a free day,” JJ reminds,

“Who the hell made that up?” Heyward questions, and you furrow your brows in pretend thought,

“Pentagon, I think,” You grin, “We have security clearance,”

“You think I’m stupid?” Heyward questions, stepping forward when Pope drops the hose in his hand and lunges off the porch, landing on the HMS boat with a stumble so your arm wrapped around his shoulders, laughing,

“When you get back, you gonna clean your dirty ass room!” Heyward demands, as you wave, “And I don’t like your friends!”

“Hello, princess,” You lean on the edge of the boat, smiling dreamily at Kiara as she moves to the edge of her boat deck. You extend a hand, helping her step down before turning to look at JJ,

“One day, she’s going to take you from me, I know it,” JJ pouts, and you smirk, leaning sideways so your lips pecked his,

“Nah, I like blondes more,” You grin against his mouth, JJs hand coming up to cup the back of your neck,

“Take your beer before I barf,” Kiara cuts, shoving two beer bottles between you so you leaned back and took one, narrowing your eyes,

“Okay, okay,” JJ stands up, popping the top to his bottle and moving to stand on the edge, “I got this,”

“No, you tried this six thousand times and you failed every time,” You remind, leaning back so the beer that missed his mouth flew past you, John B groaning in disgust.

You reach up to tug at JJs shorts in an attempt to pull him back down, the sudden jerk of the boat forcing JJ off the ledge, your body lurching forward so you hit the edge of the boat- hard- groaning at the pain in your muscles,

“Pope, what the hell?” John B calls, as you lift you head, watching JJ resurface from the water,

“J, you okay?”

“I think my heels touched the back of my head,”

Pope snorts, stepping up, face dropping as he looks down into the water, “Guys,”

“What?” You finally sit up, following your gaze so you cursed, “Holy shit, there’s a boat,”

“No way,” Kiara moves next to you, “Holy shit,” She repeats, “There is,”

John B tugs off his shirt, your legs leading you off the edge so you dropped into the water beside JJ, hand over your nose.

Sure as shit, a boat. An expensive one, that is. Rising for air, you watch your friends talk all at once in hysterics for your finding,

“Did you see that?” JJ calls to everyone, Kiara nodding with a short, “Yeah, I did,”

“That’s a Grady White,” JJ swims up to the HMS boat, heaving himself up before twisting and taking your hand, “A new one of those is like five hundred Gs, easy,”

“That’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge,” John B states, as you twist the water out of your hair, “Maybe it hit the jetty or something,”

“You surfed the surge?” Kiara asks, roughly, and you squint your eyes with a grin

“You didn’t?”

“Do we know whose boat that is?” Pope asks, heaving a breath of air from how long he held it underwater,

“No, but we’re about to find out,” John B picks up the anchor, saluting you before he jumps back off the boat, allowing the weight of the anchor to pull him down.

He comes back up in short time, hand raising to show you the yellow key in his hand, “I found this motel key,”

“A key,” Your smile drops into irritation, pushing away from the edge to sit down, the adrenaline quick to leave your system,

“Yes, a key, Y/N,” John B lifts himself up,

“Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard,” Kiara states, as the boat begins to speed off, “Maybe we’ll get a finders fee,”

“Yeah and not work all summer,” You hum, letting the wind blow dry your hair, “Maybe we should just go find out ourselves. Go to this motel, does it have a name?”

You reach out, taking the key from John B and reading the name before handing it back, “Let’s go lady and gents,”

A sharp whistle, and you look up at the damaged motel, “I thought the Chateau looked bad,” You raise to stand up, waiting for the boat to stop on the edge of the grass before hopping off, “Kie, Pope, keep a lookout,”

“Shouldn’t you stay here?” Kiara asks, eyes glancing to JJ jumping beside you,

“Are you kidding?” You grin, JJs arm sliding around your shoulders before he points up to the motel,

“Let me take you on a tour, sweetheart,” He teases, pulling you towards the steps with John B quick behind you,

“Just be so careful, John B,” JJ turns to grab John Bs jaw, mocking Kiaras demand to your twin brother,

“God, you’re so weird,” John B shoved him away, JJ scoffing as he looks at you,

“What was that about?” He asks your brother,

“I don’t know, maybe she wants us to be careful,” John B protests, and you roll your eyes,

“Or maybe Kiara loves you,” You tease, sliding your own arm around JJs torso as you walked in sync, “Come on, big brother, Kiara totally likes you,”

“If Kiara likes anyone it’s you, babe,” JJ states, “C’mon, we all know she’s secretly gay for you,”

“Maybe,” You hum, grinning as he removes his arm to send a light knock to the door on the key,

“Housekeeping,” He speaks in a high-pitch voice, receiving no answer,

John B unlocks the door, and you pear over JJs shoulder, body slumping in disappointment at the empty, boring hotel room,

“Check the bag,” John B orders, JJ unzipping it, “See if there’s a name on there somewhere,”

“Nope,” You lift the jacket on the stool, “No name,”

John B kneels down, your eyes watching as he pressed random buttons on the safe, “John, try this,” You hold out the sticky note with numbers, and he hums in thanks,

The safe opens with a short hiss, John B cheering out a small “yay” as he pulls it wide,

“Whoa,” You mutter, watching John B pull out a wad of cash and a small hand gun, “Holy shit,”

“What?” JJ steps up, instantly taking the gun and grinning,

“Put the gun back,” John B hisses, raising to his feet, “JJ, seriously!”

“This is a fucking spend gatt, man. Just... bam! Bam!” JJ pretends to shoot, your eyes snapping to the door upon hearing keys,

“Guys- cops!” You hiss, JJ looking at you before following John B to the window,

“Get it open,” John B presses, and the window opens wide, “Go,” You move out and onto the small roof under the window. JJ is quick to follow after, body pressing you against the side of the motel beside the window,

“Can they see us?” You whisper yell, JJs head barely shaking as he turns his head, silently staring at John B on the other side of the window,

A moments pause, JJs hand suddenly dropping the gun in his grip so it clattered off the roof and into the grass. Your jaw clenched as JJ presses himself harder against you, arms tight around your waist so you were nearly invisible to the window,

“You should have forgotten the stupid gun,” You hiss, lowly, JJ shushing you as his eyes flick between yours, then tilts his head to look at John B again. Your head leans forward into JJs chest, eyes watching in terror as Chief Shoupe peered out the window, then leaned away back into the motel room,

Your eyes flutter shut in relief, JJs hands loosening at your hips as your head leans back against the wall, looking back up to meet his gaze, “You’re an idiot,”

“Well that was fun,” JJ comments fifteen minutes later, your body laid across the front of the HMS Pogue, “Could have warned us sooner though,”

“We would have, except Pope was on the math team,” Kiara comments, showing Pope had failed to throw a rock at the window to alarm you,

“You were on the math team?” You glance at Pope, who rolls his eyes,

“The cops took everything like it was a crime scene,” John B speaks up,

“Did you guys find anything?” Pope questions, JJ raising his head before his hands, showing off the gun and the wad of cash,

“Dude, why take that from a crime scene?” Kiara hisses, and your eyes squint as Pope begins to panic about losing his scholarship,

“So it turns out, Scooter is the Grady White owner,” Pope shows up at the Chateau an hour later, pacing in front of you curled in the corner chair, JJ in the recline beside you, “We need to have total and complete amnesia,”

“For once, Popes right,” JJ speaks up, hand leaving your thigh to stand up, “See, I agree with you sometimes, deny, deny, deny,”

“Guys, we can’t keep that money,” Kiara speaks, and you lift your head off your hand,

“I agree with Kiara,” You nod, “We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs,”

“I agree,” John B echoes, and you raise your eyebrows at your twin brother, “This dude has never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden he has a Grady White?” John B raises his hands, stepping into the house, “Just sayin’,”

Keggers. A party that brings Tourons, Pogues, and Kooks all together, somehow. They always seem to end with a fight, though. The one thing you looked forward to.

Except when it’s your own idiots who start the fight.

“Did I offer this to you?” JJ raises his eyebrows along with the red solo cup, blue eyes harsh on Topper, the Kook princess’ boyfriend, “Didn’t think so, run along,”

In swift motions, Topper has smacked the beer into JJs face, JJ has lunged at Topper, and within seconds, Topper is drowning John B in the ocean and JJ is shooting a gun into the air.

“That’s enough!” Your shout silences the group. Huh. Okay. “Kooks, onto your side, Pogues!” You jab a finger towards Pope pulling John B up, “Let’s fucking go,”

“Youre not still mad at me, are you?”

Your eyes shift over to the blonde next to you. Hair blowing in the wind, your mind runs over last night events. Today’s event- John B searching the Grady White using stolen scuba gear,

“You brought out a gun, at a party,” You remind, head tilted to look at him,

“Okay, I was saving your brothers ass, just so you know,” JJ leans back, and your eyes run over his face, wide,

“My brother wouldn’t have almost been drowned if you weren’t arguing with Topper,” You protest, voice snipping, “So don’t bring this around on him,”

“Guys,” Kiara cuts, your eyes narrowing in irritation as you look at her, “Someone’s following us,”

“There’s two of them,” Pope squints, staring at the two figures on the boat behind, “And one of thems got a gun- holy shit!”

JJ is quick to grab your arm and tug you into him, free hand grabbing the edge of the boat as you drop onto the floor of said boat, your eyes wide in alert,

“Holy shit guys!” Kiara panics, your eyes pinching shut as JJs hand slid up to your head, his own lifting to look over at the two men shooting constant bullets,

“Damn it, move,” Kiara steps over Pope, picking up the fishing next piled at your feet,

“Kiara, get down!” You squeak, eyes tearing as she threw the net, cutting the second boats engine so John B is able to steer away,

“Oh my god,” You panic, sitting up as JJ follows, his hand sliding from your shoulder to your hip to check for any injuries,

“Okay okay okay. Can you please open the bag? We almost died over this shit,”

You kneel down in front of John B opening the bag, pulling out a container that held a compass,

“Great,” Pope steps back, shaking his head, “We found a compass,”

Your brows furrow as you take the compass, flicking it open so your eyes widened and looked up at John B,

“Dude, what?” JJ asks, “It’s not worth anything,”

“This was dads,” You exhale, throat suddenly tight as JJs face fell and his eyes searched your face, “This- this is dads compass, John B,”

John Bs eyes raise to yours, then up to the group behind you.

Could Big John still be alive?