#it's like oh he was nice to me -> i am in love -> i'm aroace and that was wishful thinking -> oh he was nice to me etc

[arc-misadventures]

This Is How You Do It~!

Pyrrha: Well... welcome everyone to the fifth meeting of the, HLJA: Horny Ladies for, Jaune Arc. I am the club president, Pyrrha Nikos. We like to welcome out latest member, Nora Valkyrie. Please introduce yourself, and tell us while you're horny for, Jaune Arc.

Nora: Hello everyone my name is, Nora!

RWBYVCMCE: HI, Nora.

Nora: I'm horny for, Jaune-Jaune because he's a kind brotherly figure I've always wanted in my life. He takes care of me, doesn't talk down to me, he's supportive of me. And... And, unlike a different person... Jaune actually likes me...

Ciel: Is she talking about that, Ren guy?

Coco: Yep.

Cecil: What's wrong with, Ren, he seems like a nice guy.

Velvet: I think it has something to do with, Ren's semblance.

Ciel: Ren's semblance; what's his semblance?

Velvet: Ren's semblance calms the senses to the point a person becomes undetectable to, Grimm standing just a few feet from you. Considering the effect that, Ren's semblance has on a person, I theorize that as passive effect from his semblance, Ren himself is so calm, that he's unable to... unable to get it on.

Weiss: Hmm... Semblances do occasionally have passive effects on people some times. It's a pretty solid theory.

Nora: A solid theory that is true; Because of, Ren's semblance he can't get aroused.

Yang: Whoa, seriously?!

Pyrrha: Is that true, Nora?

Nora: I've spiked his food with aphrodisiacs... more so just to see what would happen if I did. No effect.

Blake: So, are you giving up on, Ren, because you two can't get physically intimate?

Nora: Not entirely...

May: Does his semblances prevent you two from being physically, and emotionally intimate?

Nora: Yeah. I know I've held a torch for, Ren for years, but we can't do anything because of his semblance. But with, Jaune... he's shown me love, and affection the moment we first met. Sure he treated himself like the older brother figure, he has seven sisters so it makes sense why he would act like that...

Ruby: I love his brother attitude he has for us~!

May: It's a really comforting feeling.

Nora: But, despite this brother love he shows me, I know there's more romantic feelings in there as well. Haaa... I love that blond goofball~!

RWBYPCVCME: Awwww~!

Pyrrha: Alright! Now that introductions are out of the way! Tell us about your all of your plans to seduce, Jaune went? Ruby, will you go first?

Ruby: Okay! Soi, I finally tried.... The naked cloak!

Ciel: The naked cloak?

Ruby: I had, Jaune enter my room, only the two of us were there, while I was only wearing my red cloak! My plan was to seduce him after he accidently reveals my naked body before him in all it''s glory!

Velvet: Ohh~!

Coco: Spicy, I like it!

Blake: Did it work?

Ruby: It failed horribly!

Ruby: ...

Ruby: I... I was too nervous to show him anything...

Yang: Ha! I knew it that you'd chicken out!

Ruby: Oh like you were any better! You wore a skimpy bikini knowing full well it would slip, and you'd flash him, on purpose! And, what did you do when your top fell off: "Eeek! No don't look!" Then you punched him in the face!

Yang: Yeah... Ah ha... haa...

Blake: Too scared to show him the goods?

Yang: No...

Pyrrha: What about you, May, any luck?

May: I haven't been trying to sleep with him. I'm just trying to strengthen our relationship, and subtly flirt with him to get him to know that I'm interested in something more than just a simple friendship.

Cecil: I've been doing the same myself. I've been helping, Jaune with his leadership training classes, while also subtly flashing him my ass in the process~!

Emerald: In those spicy thongs I helped you get?

Ciel: Hell yeah I did~!

Emerald: Nice~!

Ciel: He hasn't taken any action, but I've seen the way he's blushing~!

Emerald: So, he hasn't tapped your ass either?

Cecil: No...

Blake: I think, Jaune's more of a thigh man than an ass, or boobs guy.

May: I would have to agree, while he is aware how big I am, the times times my breasts have accidently slipped out he tends to look away. Although I think that more so him being a gentleman than anything else.

Weiss: I would have to agree. As the one of the members of the, HLJA without any prominent assets. I tend to notice that when the few times I've notice, Jaune staring at one of us, his eyes seem to be staring lower than a persons waist, obviously at a persons thighs. Seldom at a persons, butt, or boobs.

Coco: Who gets stared at the most.

Weiss: He tends to stare at, Yang, and Pyrrha's thighs the most.

Pyrrha: Yes!

Yang: Fuck yeah!

Nora: Wait... I understand this is the horny for, Jaune club. But... Have none of you actually slept with him?

Ruby: Well... no...

Velvet: There is actually two groups of the, HLJA. One for woman like us who want to sleep with him, and another group for those that have.

Nora: Oh, where is that group? I should be in that group.

RWBYPCVCME: ...?

Coco: Y-You've already slept with, Jaune...?

Nora: Yeah, just the other day actually.

Pyrrha: Haa... I'm sorry, Nora, but I'm sorry I'm going to ask you to leave, and join the, SSLJA. That's the club for woman who have slept with, Jaune. We aren't allowed to share how we managed to do it considering this is more of a think tank for us to be able to join the, SSLJA. Since, you've already done it. Well...

Nora: Oh... okay... B-Bye guys...

RWBYPCVCME: Bye...

Yang: Fuck!

Weiss: Why couldn't she have at least told us what she did for an idea for what we could have done?!

Pyrrha: Because, for what works for one...

RWBYCVCME: Does not work with others...

May: At least we can all tell it was good.

Weiss: How can you tell?

May: She was walking with a limp.

Emerald: Tsk! Luck bitch...

~~~

Glynda: Well... Let me welcome our newest member of the SSLJA, Sexually Satisfied Ladies of, Jaune Arc: Nora Valkyrie!

Nora: H-Hi...

Neo: 👋😁

Cinder: Hello, Nora.

Glynda: So tell us, Nora, as part of your introduction to the, SSLJA. How did you do it?

Nora: Oh well... it was just after I was rejected from, Ren for the last time...

~~~

Nora: Haa... Fuck... Okay, that's it... if dressing like this doesn't get him, than nothing will... Fuuuuuuuuuuck...

Jaune: So you finally giving up on, Ren, Nora?

Nora: Yeah... I don't blame him... I know how his semblance effects him. But, I just thought that I would be able to find that chink in his armour that could make us a real couple. But, I can't beat the side effects of his damn semblance.

Jaune: I'm sorry, Nora. I know, Ren has told me that he does love you, but probably because of his semblance he'll never be able to love you. Love you in a way that you deserve.

Nora: I know...

Jaune: I know this may not be a good time... But, since you've given up on, Ren does... does that mean you're available...?

Nora: Well... It depends...

Jaune: Depends on what?

Nora: On who's asking I guess?

Jaune: Well... I am... I'm asking.

Nora: Y-You are...?

Jaune: I've always like you... liked-liked you... and, I know I'm stuck in a rather... odd relationship... relationships... but, if you're interested...Would you like go on a date with me?

Nora: ...

Nora: If we date...d-does that mean me, and your... big friend down there can... exchange pleasantries?

Jaune: Nora... if you keep dressing like that.

Jaune: We'll be doing a whole lot more than just exchange pleasantries~!

Nora: Shall we exchange pleasantries now then?

Jaune: ...

Nora: Whoa-hohoho~! Jaune~?!

Jaune: Okay... Since I have you now in my arms... My bed, or yours?

Nora: My bed, if we break it we'll move on to yours.

Jaune: Sounds like a plan~!

~~~

Nora: And, then we booped...

Glynda: Oh so that's why those request forms to replace all the beds in team JNPR came from.

Nora: Hehe... sorry...

Glynda: Don't be~! We've don far far worse ourselves.

Nora: Y-You have...?

Cinder: Yes.

Neo: 🥰

Glynda: Would you like to know more~?

Nora: ...

Nora: Yes.

///

@lar-mx here's another one for you. That art screamed, Nora x Jaune as soon as i saw it. It just went other places while I was writing it.

Link to ART

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Broken Glass was SO GOOD!! Could you write something like that but with Auston?😯

Did this slightly different than Broken Glass just so it wasn't a duplicate post with Auston copy-and-pasted in place of Quinn.

Still high drama, still a hospital moment, still copious amounts of hurt/comfort! But thanks for the compliment, babe! 🩷

Also, I wrote this in one sitting to try and keep things more fluid. Apologies in advance for proofing.

That being said: C|W : implied alcohol use, physical trauma, minor depictions of bodily injury, mentions of blood W|C : 2k

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"What? Oh yeah, I'm not going that far, just the next block over or so. You guys are good!"

Girl's Night plus a best friend's birthday had made for an evening full of an over-abundance of laughter, stories, and alcohol. Auston had been on the road the last week and a half but was due home in the morning. His absence had flared your depression the last few days, so you were thankful for the welcomed distraction. The night was finally coming to and end and it was time to say goodbyes and go home, however hard it was.

"Are you sure?" Stressed one of your friends, the mother hen of the group.

"Yeah, I promise. I'm not leaving Auston's car downtown over-night. I'll be fine."

She sighed, her breath like smoke against the cool Canadian air. You could tell she wasn't convinced about you walking alone at night back to the car, but there was nothing to be done about it. He had been nice enough to let you drive it while he was gone, and you were going to make sure nothing happened to it.

"Text me when you get home, please."

You had to laugh, "Yes, mom."

Waiting around until all of them piled into the cab, you waved goodbye before starting off on your own. By now, Auston's game was long over and you were eager to talk to him if even just for a few minutes -- if he'd answer his phone.

"Hey mama," he said smiling when he answered your video call. His hair was wet and his eyes expressed his exhaustion but you were happy to see him regardless, and he seemed just as pleased to have you light up his phone.

"Hi, handsome," you replied, stopped at a crosswalk. "I saw you guys got a win! I had the game on at dinner."

Auston laughed, running a hand through his hair while never breaking eye contact with you. "We did yeah, we needed it. How was tonight?"

The light changed.

"It was good. The girls just left to go home.”

Auston’s expression narrowed slightly, “Are you alright to drive home?”

“Yes,” you whined. Deep down, you knew everyone was just showing that they cared about you, but sometimes you wished they had a little more faith.

“Just making sure you’re safe, mama.”

“I know,” you sighed, feeling regret over giving him the subtle attitude. “Trust me, they all but pulled me into the cab before they left. I only had a few glasses of wine, and like I told them, I’m not leaving your car parked all night.”

“You’re more important than a car.” By now, Auston’s brows were pulled in, sharp wrinkles forming beneath them. He didn’t show you his serious expression very often, but when he did, you knew it was for a reason.

“Baby, I’m fine. I knew I had to drive home, so I was careful. I’m not even giggly!”

You had the ability to melt his stern demeanor so easily, and this moment was another of those times. Almost instantly, his brown eyes were warm again as was his tone, “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I need you safe -- always. Who else am I going to hold at night?”

His wink killed you. “Oh stop! You’re so dramatic!”

“I love you, mama.”

“I love you, too,” you confessed, feeling everything return to a normal playing field. “Are you guys flying home in the morning still?”

“Yeah, we’ll head to the airport first thing in the--”

Your phone would fly out of your hand, somersaulting across the pavement. On Auston’s end, he initially thought you had simply dropped it, but after he heard your screams he immediately flew into panic mode. Three teenagers had just jumped you from behind, one hitting you on the back of the head with something heavy which had taken you knees out from under you. You’d crumple into a ball on the sidewalk, but that was right where they wanted you. There were forceful kicks to your ribs as well as punches to your face. Never had you ever felt such intense pain in your life. This was a literal nightmare.

The taste of copper in your mouth was strong; the lack of air in your lungs made you think you were going to die. You couldn’t hear Auston’s yelling through the phone for the ringing in your years. You attackers wouldn’t see it either, as the phone had fallen screen down, up against a store front.

They were laughing at you; that you couldn’t unhear.

The beating felt like forever, but in reality only lasted a couple minutes or so. They took your Gucci bag Auston had just bought you for your birthday, as well as his keys before running off, leaving you laid out against the damp concrete. With shallow breathing and heavy eyelids, you’d feel the world fade in on you. It wouldn’t be until the ambulance’s sirens and personnel got to you that you’d be painfully reminded of the night’s turn of events.

Everything was a blur.

You were in and out of consciousness on the ride to the hospital. The bright, white overhead lights stung your throbbing head too much to bear. Every bump, every turn of the vehicle made you wonder if your bones were made of glass, and if all of them were shattered. Misery. All of it, every feeling.

- - -

“It’s going to be a long road. She’s going to need someone who can be around her consistently for some weeks. There’s no way she can take care of herself in this condition, and I’m sure you know that.”

You weren’t sure if you were in a medially induced coma or having some sort of out-of-body experience. You could hear the nurse speaking, and you thought you had heard Auston’s voice a time or two, but then again, maybe that had just been wishful thinking.

“I know it’s hard to see her this way, but the surgeries went well. We’re just keeping her here because she had so much trauma. The doctor will come up with a timetable on her release time over the next few days. There’s a lot of swelling we’re keeping an eye on, and we don’t want to send her home too early.”

Halfway through the conversation you found yourself counting the beeps coming from your heart monitor instead of who was talking in the room with you. You were alive, somehow, but you couldn’t remember getting here.

“We’ll be back at the top of the hour to check on her again, you’re more than welcome to stay.”

The door shut softly, but your eyes rolled to the left, beneath swollen and closed eyelids. Someone had sat down beside you.

“Baby, I love you,” you heard Auston mumble, voice pained like he was on the verge of tears. “I love you so much. So, so much.”

With whatever strength you could muster, you forced your eyes open. “Auston,” you could only whisper.

His ability to speak was gone. Just seeing you in that hospital bed had crushed him, let alone hearing your attack happen in real-time. You couldn’t ignore the tears silently rolling down his cheeks as his chin came to rest on the edge of the bed.

“I love...you.” Speaking was hard for you, the tubes down your throat for anesthesia had caused the hoarseness, making each word labored.

“Don’t speak, baby. It’s okay.” He was trying so hard not to break down, at least not in front of you. His eyes were red, either from not sleeping last night or from previous emotional episodes. Either way, he was losing the battle of being strong in front of you. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I-- I--,” he closed his eyes, trying to collect himself.

With your left hand, you moved it away from your body to touch his hand. Auston seemed reluctant to touch you, likely from fear of causing you more unnecessary pain, but you reaching out to him, he swallowed up your hand with both of his. His touch was warm, so soothing against the cold nature of hospitals. All you wanted to do was crawl into his arms and let him hide you away from the nightmares of your reality.

“I called the police as soon as I heard what was happening,” he confessed, trying to shake the sounds of your cries that were replaying in his mind at the mention of last night’s chain of events.

“Your car!?” You remembered the boys stealing your bag, and everything you had in it.

Auston did his best to shush you concerns, rising to his feet to give you a much needed kiss. Your bottom lip was split, but you needed to feel him against your lips. This accident aside, it had been over ten days since you had seen him. What unfortunate circumstances you had to reconnect on.

“Don’t worry about anything but yourself, sweetheart, please. The police are working on it. Like I said last night, you mean way more to me than any car. Those are so easily replaced-- you aren’t.”

Your eyes were both blackened, swollen, and stinging against the light of the room, yet Auston looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world, because to him, you always would be. He knew your heart, making the inside always more stunning than the out.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Okay as much as you can be,” he stumbled. “When you went quiet I thought I lost you, baby.”

You were both crying now. Fuck, if you could just have him hold you.

“I’m going to call my mom later and see if she’ll fly up and stay with you while you recover, okay? I caught a red-eye last night so I could get back to you sooner than this morning. I just knew I couldn’t sit in that hotel knowing what had happened. I used Mitch’s phone to call the police. I couldn’t bring myself to end the video call, even though you didn’t have your phone. They recovered it, though. So...there’s that,” his voice dropped off. There were a lot of memories on that phone.

“Auston?” Again, your words were whispers, but he heard you easily.

“What is it, baby?”

You had never seen him look so sad -- ever. He knelt back down, his elbows now resting on the bed as he looked at your broken body before him. As carefully as he could, he touched your face with the back of his fingers.

“I’m sorry.”

Fresh tears pours down his face at you’re quiet apology. There was the sharpest pain in his chest, but he would hide it for you. He was already ashamed that he had allowed himself to cry in front of you, with you dealing with so much already.

“Baby, no, please-- please don’t apologize. You didn’t do a single thing wrong. None of this is your fault, okay? You didn’t deserve this.”

You couldn’t help but think that if you had just gotten in that cab, you’d be in bed with Auston, back at home, instead of laying in the ICU wing in the hospital with numerous broken bones and healing wounds. If only... As you looked at him, you had a feeling he knew what you were thinking.

“You had no way of knowing, sweetheart. It’s unfortunate, but sometimes things just happen, and I hate so much that it had to be you.”

Every gasp for air burned pain across your whole chest, and Auston did what he could to calm you down, although he felt like he was running blind in the situation.

“I’ve a few days off, okay? I’m not going to leave your side. I’m not leaving you here alone. I can’t,” he paused for a moment before putting his forehead to your temple. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you. Never again.”

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 29

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n i fixed some missing links on my fics but probably not all of them, if you see one i've missed please tell me i'm stupid. anyway, several of my friends have written wonderful fics this week, please go for a scroll through my blog to read them all (including this fantastic 9th member au by @chahnniesroom, hello everyone who came here from that post <3) and remember I have daybreak currently posting every week!

previous | masterlist | next

---

"Step out, 안녕하세요 스트레이 키즈입니다!"

The new year dawns like this; with them.

The camera blinks at you from across the room, a little red light by the lense blinking to indicate that you are streaming live to the world. In your hand, comments scroll past your phone screen almost too fast to read; on either side of you, arms jostle for space, your side of the couch mostly occupied by Changbin and Felix. Not that you mind the tight squeeze. It's nice to be here as nine for the afternoon, looking into the year ahead.

Well, supposedly. Mostly, the boys are still talking about lunch and whining about wanting coffee, as if they hadn't gone to bed early and slept late with nothing else to do today. The staff seem about as eager to steer them back on track as they are, sitting back behind the camera and letting it all play out.

You're happy too, watching the comments and listening to them talk about nothing. No pressure on you for anything, no reason to bring attention to yourself. There'll be time enough for that in the new year

You don't think that Changbin angling his phone at you to show you a takeout menu will be the beginning of the end. 

You are wrong.

"Oh, mocha," you say out loud without really thinking, reaching out with one finger to scroll through the selections listed. "And smoothies. And iced tea."

"I want ice americano," Seungmin says from the other side of Changbin, leaning over him to point at it on the screen. 

"Americano?" Across the room, Han suddenly perks up, straining to see around the other boys to whoever was talking. "Who's ordering coffee?"

Changbin looks up at him, his thoughts visible as they jump from one opportunity to another. "I'll order if you pay."

"Why am I paying?" Han whines. "It was your idea."

"You said you wanted coffee."

"Hyuuung."

"Baby," you mutter in an aside to Felix, who snorts a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his smile. 

"Han is buying us coffee?" Hyunjin says, leaning away from the pleading eyes of the boy next to him. "I want coffee too."

Han stands, shaking his head. "You should buy it then," he says, pointing at Hyunjin. "I'm not buying it. It wasn't my idea to buy it, Changbin is buying it, I just said I wanted one-" Their voices rise, talking over the top of one another amidst the sound of Chan's laughter and Lee Know poking in just long enough to keep the argument going. Beside you, Changbin leans back and scrolls through the menu, clearly pleased with himself. 

"Just play rock, paper, scissors!" Seungmin tells them when their volume has reached maximum level, his hand waving to grab their attention. "Everyone play. Loser buys coffee."

Han stops, staring at him suspiciously, and then points and laughs. "The one that calls it always loses!" he crows, and holds his hand out ready to play.

Around you, the rest of them rise to play, forming a semi-circle around the camera. "Noona?" Changbin says when you don't rise with them, turning to offer you a hand up. 

He doesn't see the way your stomach bottoms out, the sudden dryness of you throat and the sweat of your palms where they press to your jeans. He can't even see the camera, staring at you from behind your back, recording every single move you make on the chessboard.

You play it off with a smile, shaking your head. "I'm fine," you tell him, and pray that he'll accept it at face value. "I don't really want anything."

"Not even ice tea?" he presses relentlessly. 

"Come on Y/Nnie," Han says from the other side of the circle, his head poking out from behind the other's backs. "Seungmin's going to lose anyway."

The shift in the room is dramatic - suddenly, instead of hiding in the corner, you are the focal point of all the attention in the space. Reluctantly, you take Changbin's hand. "Well, if Seungmin is paying," you joke weakly, and take your place in the circle.

One in nine is good odds, you figure; and then you lose the first round.

And then you lose the second.

"Out!" Seungmin crows with his rock held in the air, stepping out of the centre. Only you and Chan are left - you and Chan and your empty bank account, and a camera livestreaming out to the world. He winks at you as he steps forward to face you, his face angled just far enough away from the camera not to show it. They will see his goofy smile though, and the big show he makes of hunching down and squaring his shoulders like you're going to wrestle or something, not play a children's game.

Anxiety makes you cold, your skin shivering and your arms locking up. You swallow it down and smile. You're sure you show too much teeth, that your face pales as your fist lays ready on your palm. Chan doesn't move, his gaze unwavering and his smile stuck to his face. When you meet his eyes, you could swear he's trying to tell you something through that gaze. You're too stupid to recieve the message.

"안 내면 진 거, 가위 바위 보!"

Steel in your spine, you play the game fair and on the beat - embarrassing loss or not, you'll keep that dignity. Your hand throws rock without thinking much about it. Chan doesn't play with any kind of strategy anyway; it's almost cruel sometimes, to use logic against him, the way he plays to lose.

Like now, moving so far behind the beat that you could nearly claim he was cheating. You see his eyes flick down to your hand the moment before he plays, taking in your move; your mouth opens to call him out as he shows his hand, and then-

Pauses, because he played scissors. And lost.

"Ahhhhhh," he hisses between his teeth like he's disappointed. 

"Bang Chaaan," the voices start to taunt from behind, absorbing you back into their fold. Hands land on his shoulders, shaking him, while Seungmin points and laughs in that annoying way he's so good at. "Rich Chan. Park Chan. Buy me a house, Chan."

Between their milling bodies as you return to your seats, you catch his eye again - and the secret, sly grin he saves just for you as you pass by. You narrow your eyes in return, just long enough for him to see, and then settle back into your place next to Changbin, trying to figure out what he did and why he would do that. You're still thinking about it twenty minutes later, when your drinks arrive and he shoves a tea into your hand, and ten minutes after that when you give the camera your ending ment and the livestream finishes, and even after that when he disappears downstairs to his studio and you wander off to your own chores, elsewhere in the building.

At least the tea tastes good, sweet on your tongue even after you've finished it.

---

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

[infinitelibrary]

So I read this last night hoping for a nice little shot of bedtime reading. What I got was a chapter - yes, a SINGLE CHAPTER - that carried me through a whirlwind of emotions. Everything from awe 😮 to spice 🥵 to angst and heartache 😢 to absolute LOVE (*gasp* the L word!!!)❤️ and happy tears 🥹. And again, I repeat: all this in a SINGLE CHAPTER. I think that speaks volumes to your skills as a writer, so let's make that very clear. I read this no less than 3 times last night itself. And then at least twice more this morning, just so I could take notes and digest and be coherent when I came here to reblog and give you my thoughts. (as you can tell, that was pointless bc I'm still rambling.)

Also fair warning - this is LONG, and I don't feel like putting it under a cut but just know there are spoilers galore. Consider yourself warned.

First off...In the Soop Yoongi at the beginning. oh you can bet your ASS I noticed him! I will always notice him! 😍

THANK YOU!! I know it's such a small detail but I am so grateful to you for indulging me and including him in there, down to the loose collared tee and the necklace (all the better to pull him in close for a kiss or two 😉)

The chapter progressed through the makeover montage. Something many of us can only dream of! Makeup, glitz, glam, outfits at our fingertips, getting dolled up and made pretty even if just for a night. A perfect Cinderella moment. And I'm theorizing based on the characterizations you've offered us so far...but I think as magical as it was, I think that was part of what led MC to have those doubts later on. She was dolled up and dressed up and it perhaps as much as it made her feel gorgeous, she also knew this wasn't who she really was...and so that 'imposter' feeling was perhaps brewing under the surface. Not saying it was or has to be...but just what I gleam from it in hindsight.

The car. The CAR. Dear GOD don't even get me started. Do you know how hard it was for me to get through my workday today? Thankfully today was a wfh day and most of my calls were camera off, but the one that was camera on? The whole time - the WHOLE time - the line "Grind. Make me hard before I fuck you right here right now" was running through my head and I had to constantly jolt myself back to reality. When I tell you I am here for slightly jealous possessive Yoongi who feels like he has to remind you who your ass belongs to...I mean I am abso-fucking-lutely HERE 👏FOR 👏IT👏. I swear I read that line last night and my brain glitched. I had to go back and re-read it like 5 times. That entire scene was SO FREAKING HOT. And then ordering her to 'keep it in'?? JFC...🥵

The party took us on another journey - this one with insecurities and angst. I felt my heart clench with Yijeong's "Still?" comment bc I *know* that feeling. You can feel stuck when others around you are moving up and away, meanwhile you're still in the same job. And it can be frustrating bc change is scary, there's security and comfort with staying with what's familiar. For some, it maybe that they love what they do and don't want to move, though I don't think this is the case with MC, as she mentioned she wished she could, but hadn't been able to. Perhaps she does want to move, but there's something holding her back. Or maybe she just hasn't had the opportunity. There could be any number of reasons. But to have someone unintentionally talk down to her for being in the same role especially at a gathering like this when everyone around her is recognized for their extraordinary achievements...of course it would make her feel insecure and inadequate. Yeah, in her everyday office she's just one among many. But here, she's the "everyday"normal" person in a crowd of celebs and again, it's easy for her to think "Yoongi could have his pick of any of these gorgeous women...why me?" And then add Mina to the mix and I just...sigh

The car ride home, the drop off at her apartment. When she turned him down, my heart was literally aching as she went in alone...then the late night (early morning) text. Him showing up at her doorstep with his confession. The simplicity of it, the urgency of it. I literally cried the first time I read it (happy tears for the both of them). Her reaction, and then reciprocation of his words of affection. Oh my GOD it was better than anything I could have imagined.

The way that you took us through each and every one of these stages was truly a work of art. I feel like I keep saying this about every new installment of your work that comes out, but this may just be one of my favorite chapters of any of your works, EVER. Just...WOW. Everything about it was just....

(I know that's not a chef's kiss but it's the closest I could find to a Yoongi chef's kiss gif bc yes he is 'cooking' in this clip)

I'm excited to see what comes next!! They've made it official outside the office. What's going to happen *in* the office? What shenanigans will that conniving Danbi get up to? How are they going to have illicit office quickies now that their hiding spot is no longer hidden from the camera's view? And what will happen when Wonwoo shows up?

(you can bet I am staying tuned to find out 💜)

Terms & Conditions | Chapter Seven

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to?

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Purely speculative regarding Yoongi’s alternative military service and how this is really done in SK, some cursing, boss/employee relationship sorta but there's no power play involved, reader and Yoongi are within the same age range

✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter Warnings: YOONGI IN THIS SUIT. Angst - themes of jealousy, insecurity, Mildly angry car sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), The L Word <3

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k ✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: March 12, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: We’re back after a longish break! Thank you to @glossdebut for beta reading! Enjoy this chapter, my lovelies~ 💕

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“Hi, baby! I’m back…?” Your voice trails off as you enter Yoongi’s apartment that afternoon and suddenly the living room has been transformed into what can only be described as the scene for the makeover montage in movies (or fanfics?). 

Clothing racks line one wall, laden with everything from elegant cocktail dresses to sleek jumpsuits. A makeup station with a massive lighted mirror has been set up near the window.

It’s chaos, but it’s also… kind of amazing.

“What the—” you mutter to yourself, stepping further into the room.

Yoongi appears from the kitchen, a cup of iced coffee in hand, looking unfazed by the commotion. He’s dressed casually in black joggers and a white t-shirt, collarbones peaking deliciously from the loose neckline. Around his neck, a brown necklace draws your eyes to the smooth column of his throat. What gave him the right?

Anyway, he spots you immediately, face softening.

“Hi,” he says, strolling over to you, stuffing one hand inside his pocket casually. Not him acting all awkward again in front of other people.

You try not to roll your eyes before dragging him towards the nearest room and closing the door behind you.

His face is blank, causing you to whisper-shout, “What is all that?” gesturing wildly at the door that’s shielding the activity outside.

He sips his coffee, completely unbothered. “Told you I’d take care of everything.”

“Yah! You didn’t have to go this far!” you exclaim, but there’s a giddy smile tugging at your lips as you slap his chest.

Yoongi captures your wrist and pulls you closer. “Let me spoil you when I want to, mm?” Soft lips meet your forehead.

You roll your eyes, though your cheeks flush at his words. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he smiles sweetly, pressing a quick kiss on your lips this time.

You pull him back in with a loop of your finger around his necklace.

“Hmm, jagi,” he hums against your mouth, a soft reprimand. “Later, okay? They’re here for you.”

Despite your initial skepticism, it’s hard not to get swept up in the excitement. The team from Bit & Boot is professional but warm, making small talk about your personal color analysis. You’re apparently a soft spring, or was it deep winter?

Someone lays out a few dresses, and your eyes immediately gravitate toward a beige cocktail dress with sleek lines and subtle embellishments along the neckline.

“You have a good eye,” one of the stylists says, removing the hanger. Maybe you did understand the color thingy they were talking about, because they looked pleased. Thank God, because you didn’t want to look like a chump.

Yoongi lingers nearby, keeping an eye on everything. When your makeup artist offers him a chair as if he doesn’t own the place, he smirks and says, ��Nah, I’m just here to admire.”

You’re seated in front of the mirror as they work on you, foundation buffed onto your skin, hair teased and styled until it cascades in soft waves over your shoulders. Yoongi stays close, occasionally glancing at his phone but mostly watching you, a small, private smile playing on his lips.

When you finally step out in the dress, Yoongi’s reaction is everything you could have hoped for. 

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice low.

“Too much?” you ask, smoothing the dress nervously.

“Too much? No.” He steps closer, his hand finding your waist, pulling you just slightly toward him. “You’re perfect.”

His words send warmth blooming in your chest. 

The glam team packs up quickly, with small smiles that they try to hide. You bow as they go, leaving the two of you alone in the now-pristine living room.

As the door clicks shut behind them, Yoongi turns to you, his hands sliding down your hips as his lips brush your ear.

“Jagi, we don’t have to go,” he murmurs, voice deep and dangerous. “You’re so sexy. Let’s just stay here. I’ll just take care of you.”

You laugh softly, placing your hands on his chest. “Yoongi, we can’t skip your hyung’s party.”

“Hmm.” His lips curve into a smirk, and his fingers trace lazy patterns on your sides, giving it a light squeeze.

“Yoongi…”

“Just let me kiss your lips for a bit…”

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head. “Lip gloss.”

“Not those lips…”

“Yoongi!” You shout, scandalized at the suggestion. But you’d be lying if you didn’t feel the flutter of something low in your belly as he dips his head to your shoulder, chuckling to himself. He’s such a shithead.

“Fine. But know that all I’ll be thinking about tonight is how soon I can get you back here.” He bites your shoulder for good measure.

“Well, you’d better behave then. Don’t make me regret saying yes to this party.”

He steals the faintest kiss on your lips. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He lied.

You’re just in the car and already he is not on his best behavior. 

Not when he almost tears your panties in half as he hooks it to the side and inserts his cock in your warmth without so much as a prep.

Backtracking—this was not supposed to happen. And yet somehow you also knew it would, if you’d be really honest.. See, you were just making light conversation as you entered his Palisade.

“So who’s coming to the party again?”

He unbuttons his blazer, leaning back on his seat. “Bunch of label people, my members. They know I’m bringing you.”

“What did you say?”

“Told them to not act like idiots. And that they better behave.”

You hum, amused at the hint of green in his irises. Maybe it can be greener… 

“And, uh, Yijeong will be there, too?” 

Silence. Except for the soft whirr of the partition rolling up.

“Get over here.”

“Mm?”

“You heard me,” he says, voice a touch darker. 

You shuffle to sit on his lap, the fabric of your dress gathering on your waist. His large warm hand strokes up your thigh towards the plush of your ass, roughly squeezing.

“Grind,” he instructs. “Make me hard before I fuck you right here right now.”

Before you can protest your body is already acting on instincts, rolling your hips as per his instructions. Your panties are getting more damp as you continue to rub yourself against the growing stiffness under his trousers.

You hear the sound of a metal buckle and a zip. He frees his cock (he is not wearing underwear–this fucker!) and before you can do anything else, he hooks your panties to the side.

A wave of bliss courses through you as he nestles his tip against your sticky folds, prodding your clit ever so slightly. 

“Can you take it?” 

“Yeah...” 

He smirks. “Okay then, take it.”

A moan rips from your throat when he slips inside and pistons up into you. Hard, fast, and furious. There’s no build-up, not enough forewarning. But you love the stretch—the painful, delicious sting as he forces himself to fit inside you like he has many times before.

“Say my name,” he grits.

“Baby…”

“Whose dick are you riding right now, huh?”

“Yours, Yoongi—mmph fuck.”

His grip tightens on your hips, the guitar-calloused pads of his fingers pressing into your skin as he fucks up into you deep. The wet, obscene sounds of your slick walls sucking him in fill the Palisade, drowned out only by your soft whimpers and the way Yoongi grunts against your shoulder.

“Fuck,” he breathes, lips dragging along the shell of your ear, against your piercing. “You always take me so well.”

You grasp the leather headrest, desperate for something to anchor you. But there’s no finding your balance when he’s feral—when his cock is hitting so goddamn deep it knocks the air from your lungs. Your head falls back, mouth parting with a moan as the pleasure crests higher. Every inch of skin on fire.

Yoongi doesn’t slow. If anything, the sight of you, the feel of you—fucked-out and soooo fuckin’ wet—only makes him wilder. His hands shift lower, gripping the meat of your ass, helping you bounce on his cock.

“You want me jealous, huh?” he growls. “Wan’ test me?”

“No, I—fuck—”

His teeth graze your jaw, a warning. “Liar.”

A particularly sharp thrust has you crying out, your nails clawing at his back. His chuckle is dark, pleased. “Don’t worry, jagi. I’ll fuck the thought of anyone else outta you.”

You’re close. You can feel it—the unbearable heat pooling in your belly, every nerve in your body coiling tight. Yoongi knows it too, the way your pussy starts fluttering around him.

“Shit, ‘m close…”

“Yeah, that’s it. I like it when you lose control…”

“Ahh. Please, Yoongi.”

“Lemme feel it, baby,” he coaxes, voice rough, strained. “Let me feel you cum for me.”

That’s all it takes. Your release crashes over you, sharp and white-hot, your body trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Yoongi groans, feeling you squeeze him tight tight tight, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Fuck, fuck—” His grip bruises as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside, filling you up with every last drop. 

For a moment, all you can hear is the ragged sound of your breaths, the faint hum of the engine beneath you, which you just now realize is already parked. 

Yoongi’s hands smooth over your thighs, as you both come down. Then, with a tired but no less shit-eating grin, he pulls out and pings your panties back into place, pressing his thumb at the seam, before he says: 

“Keep it in for me, jagi.”

You should be scandalized. You can feel his viscous load already dripping from you, but you clench. You hold it in as best as you can. Because you’ll agree to anything when he’s like this.

You shudder, pulse still racing as he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your lips. It’s gentle—so at odds with what just happened.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, still floating.

He smirks, lazy and satisfied. “My pretty jagi.”

As you rest your forehead against his, still dazed, still blissed-out, he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and murmurs, “Now, let’s go to this fucking party before I change my mind.”

The party is already buzzing when you arrive, and Yoongi’s hand finds the small of your back, grounding you as he guides you through the crowd. His friends are scattered across the room, a mix of banter and laughter filling the air. 

You’re honestly a little self-conscious after your little car tryst. Is your dress too wrinkled? Is your make-up a wreck? Do you smell like cum?

“Come on,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning in close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. “Let’s go say hi.”

Jimin is the first to turn to you with a playful grin, “So, you’re the one Yoongi-hyung’s been hiding from us, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, his expression equal parts curious and amused. 

Jungkook grins, leaning in for a casual hug. “Hello, Y/N.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but a small, almost shy smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he introduces you to the rest of the members. Everybody seems friendly, acknowledging you for being Yoongi’s plus one. For the most part, it’s Jungkook who keeps close, chatting with you about Chae and how he’s bummed she couldn’t make it tonight. Cute.

At some point in the night, Yoongi gets whisked away into a circle of conversation on the far side of the room. You hang back, still close but giving him enough space to enjoy his time outside of—let’s be real—babysitting you.

You slip toward the bar, ordering a drink, needing something to do with your hands while you surreptitiously take everything in.

Is that Hwasa? Oh my God, that’s Irene of Red Velvet.

The weight of where you are settles all at once. You knew you’d be surrounded by idols tonight, but knowing and experiencing are two very different things. These are people who command stages, who are revered and respected and admired by millions. And then… there’s you. A glorified office worker who stumbled into this world by accident.

You inhale, shake it off, sip your drink.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, your full government name rings out over the music, a curious voice cutting through the din.

“I heard you were gonna be here.”

You turn, and there he is.

“Jang Yijeong. Long time no see.”

He leans against the bar, the corners of his lips curling in amusement. “Indeed.”

The weight of history sits between you. It’s not bad blood, not really, but there’s something about seeing someone from your past in a space that so obviously belongs to your present that feels a little jarring.

Especially because you suddenly meet said present’s eyes from across the room and the motherfucker mouths, keep it in… and you squirm in your seat as a flush of fluid threatens to trickle down your thighs.

“So, Yoongi-yah, huh?” Yijeong tilts his head, studying you and maybe your odd facial expression right now. “Small world.”

“Yeah.” You shift, inhaling sharply. “So how have you been?”

“Really good. Worked on Yoongi’s last album and tour before his service. Now I’m going back and forth between here and the US, trying to do my own thing.”

“Wow.” You blink, forcing a smile. “I’m happy for you.”

His success doesn’t surprise you. He’s always been talented, always had that drive. But hearing it out loud, seeing how effortlessly he fits into this world—it stirs something unpleasant in your chest.

“How about you?” he asks.

You take another sip of your drink, stalling. “Just boring stuff. I work in the Yongsan municipal office.”

“Oh, you’re still there?” His brows lift, his voice light, but something about the phrasing makes your stomach twist.

Still.

Like you should have moved on by now. Like you’ve been standing in place while the rest of the world surged forward.

You force a small laugh, trying not to let it show. “Yeah, still there.”

Yijeong hums, nodding slowly. “Good thing you didn’t leave.” He gestures toward the other side of the room where Yoongi is now laughing at something someone said, looking so effortlessly cool. “Or else you wouldn’t have met Yoongi.”

And honestly, what do you say to that?

Because he’s right. If you had taken any of the other job offers, if you had made even the smallest change to your path, you wouldn’t be here.

But the way he says it makes it sound like Yoongi is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Like meeting him was some stroke of dumb luck, the one extraordinary thing in an otherwise unimpressive life.

Like Yoongi is a prize you won rather than a person who chose you.

You swallow, looking down at your drink. The ice clinks against the glass, but it doesn’t drown out the thoughts forming in your head. Is that what people see when they look at you? A nobody who somehow landed Min Yoongi?

Your fingers tighten around the glass. And suddenly, the room doesn’t feel so warm anymore.

As you make your way back toward Yoongi, a voice stops you.

“You must be the famous Y/N.”

You turn, surprised to see a woman smiling at you, her glossy lips curled into something amused but warm. She’s effortlessly chic, her black dress draped elegantly over her frame.

“Oh,” you say, blinking as recognition sets in. His Mina-noona. You’ve heard Yoongi mention her before—a longtime friend, someone he respects. 

“I’m Mina,” she says, offering her hand. You shake it, feeling slightly scrutinized under her gaze—but not in a malicious way. More like she’s curious, trying to piece together the puzzle that is you.

“Yoongi talks about you,” she adds, eyes twinkling.

Your brows lift slightly. “He does?”

Mina hums, taking a sip of her drink. “Not much, but enough. He’s… different these days.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” she muses. “Softer, maybe. More invested.”

Your stomach does a little flip, but before you can fully process it, Mina gives you a knowing look. “You do know what you’re getting into, right?”

The flip turns into a twist. “What do you mean?”

Mina chuckles, shaking her head. “Nothing bad,” she reassures you, waving a hand. “Just… Yoongi’s always been a certain way. Keeps people at arm’s length. Not the type to—” She pauses, then shrugs. “Well. Not the type to bring someone to a party like this.”

You try to keep your expression neutral, but the words settle uncomfortably in your chest. Is she trying to insinuate that Yoongi tends to go for just casual, a typical fuckboi even?

“You must be special,” she adds, smiling. It’s meant to be kind, but it only stirs something uneasy inside you.

You force a small laugh. “I’d like to think so.”

Mina gives your arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back. “It was nice to finally meet you,” she says genuinely. “Enjoy tonight.”

She disappears into the crowd before you can respond, leaving you standing there, your mind spinning.

When you glance back, Yoongi is already making his way toward you, casually grabbing a quiche from a passing waiter and popping it into his mouth.

“You alright, jagi?” Yoongi’s voice is gentle, cutting through the noise of the party like a thread pulling you back to him. 

You nod, pasting on a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But you’re not. Not really.

Because the moment Yijeong walked away, the thoughts started spiraling. And after that conversation with Mina, it’s like a dull ache has settled into your chest, impossible to shake.

You think back to the office girls months ago, how they teased you when Yoongi first started working in your department. The Blessed One, they had called you. The lucky girl who got to work closely with Min Yoongi. It was all in good fun, lighthearted banter at the time, but now, the words twist in your head.

Do you not deserve someone like him?

Do you not deserve him?

You shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks. You know that. Yoongi is here, with you, choosing you. That should be enough.

And yet, the doubt lingers, wrapping around your confidence like vines, tightening.

A squeeze on your waist brings you back. You blink, meeting Yoongi’s eyes. He’s studying you carefully, his gaze flickering over your face like he can see every thought running through your head.

“You sure?” he murmurs.

You force yourself to nod, offering another small smile as you swipe the crumbs on the corner of his mouth with your knuckle. “Yeah… just a little overwhelmed.”

“Let’s get out of here soon, okay?”

You nod again, pressing into his side just slightly, grateful for the comfort he gives so effortlessly. But the thoughts don’t go away.

And you’re starting to wonder if they ever will.

The drive home is quiet, but Yoongi’s hand wraps around yours, thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles. The silence feels heavy, as if he’s waiting for you to say something, but you’re still sifting through the evening’s interactions, trying to make sense of your emotions.

Finally, Yoongi speaks, his voice low. “Jagi-ya. I don’t know what happened, but you can talk to me,” he says, his tone soft but firm. His hand tightens around yours. “Was it something Yijeong or Mina said?”

You swallow, staring out the window as the streetlights blur past. “It’s not just them, Yoongi,” you murmur, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “It’s… I don’t know. Tonight, it just hit me how different our worlds are. I mean, maybe I don’t belong here, in all of this. You deserve someone who just… fits better.”

Yoongi stares, confusion etched in his features.

“It’s just, people look at you, and it’s like they’re trying to see if I measure up. I can feel it, you know?”

He lets out a slow breath, his gaze steady and intent. “That’s… don’t even worry about that, jagi. I’m here, because I want to be with you.” 

A rush of gratitude warms you, but doubt still clings, threading through your insecurities.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you murmur, squeezing his hand. “Maybe I just need some time to rest.”

As the driver pulls up outside your apartment, he studies you, his brow knitting in concern. “Want me to come up?” His question is soft, unassuming, yet full of care. “I can make you the sriracha grilled cheese sandwich you really liked last time.”

You reach over, cupping his cheek. “Not tonight,” you say, brushing your thumb gently over that little freckle below his eye. “I think I just need a little time. Alone.”

He sighs, long and labored as he presses your hand against his face a little longer before letting it drop. “I don't love this.” He says, his face falling slightly, but he nods in understanding. “But alright,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips staying just long enough to make your heart ache.

“Yoongi…”

“Not that. You don’t call me that anymore…”

Realization hits you. “Baby…”

He nods, eyes moist, and the little wobble of his lips almost makes you want to fold. “Good night, jagi.”

With a final, lingering look, you step out of the car, giving him a small wave as you close the door behind you. The weight of your decision is immediate, filling the quiet of your apartment with the complex feelings from the night. 

As you exhale, you realize you’re left to sort through this alone, the silence amplifying the doubts Yoongi’s reassurance can’t quite erase.

It's 4:12 a.m.

You can’t sleep. How can you? 

You haven’t slept in this bed for days. The scent of jasmine is unfamiliar, when you’ve grown accustomed to sandalwood.

Your memory pillow already forgot the slope of your head.

You flip to your other side, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through your curtains. Just as you’re about to force your eyes shut, your phone vibrates against your nightstand, the screen lighting up the darkened room.

You check the notification and it's him. Of course it is.

Yoongi: you up?

Any other night, you’d laugh at how much it sounds like a booty call. And maybe it would’ve been. But tonight, it’s different.

You: Cant sleep Yoongi: me too

You stare at your screen, thumbs hovering as you figure out what to say next. But another message is already coming through. 

Yoongi: im outside Yoongi: your apt

Socked feet shuffle to the front door. Every step feels heavy, like your body is torn between running to him and running away.

You swing it open to find Yoongi, looking like a kicked puppy. Your heart cracks.

The sight of him like this—eyes tired, lips pressed into a tight line, hair tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it all night—has you clutching the edge of the doorframe just to keep yourself upright.

You let him inside.

“What are you doing here?” you finally ask, voice quieter than you intended.

Yoongi exhales sharply, his hands pushing through his hair before settling at his sides. 

“I’m here, because…” he starts, then stops, shaking his head like he doesn’t know how to finish the thought. His jaw clenches. His fingers twitch.

You can’t breathe.

And then he says, “I love you.”

The words land like a freefall. No hesitation. No takebacks. Just truth.

“Yoongi…” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“I need you to hear it. Really hear it.” He takes a step closer, trembling hands cupping your cheeks. “I love you,” he repeats, softer this time, like he’s willing you to believe it. “I don’t care how complicated this gets. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I told you before, I’m all-in.”

Your heart is pounding, a chaotic rhythm against your ribs.

Because deep down, you already knew.

You knew in the way he looked at you across the office when he thought no one else was watching. You knew in the way he pulled you closer in his sleep, in the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

But hearing him admit it to it like this—like he was physically incapable of handling a possibility where you didn’t feel the same way, where you would’ve given this up, it’s perhaps the most honest thing you’ve ever heard.

And now, the question isn’t whether he loves you.

It’s whether you’re ready to believe that you deserve to be loved like this. If you deserve to be loved by Min Yoongi…

Yoongi barely has time to register it before your hands are in his hair, yanking him down, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s messy, desperate, everything.

He groans into your mouth, his hands flying to your waist, fingers digging into the thin fabric of your sleep shirt.

You press into him, chest to chest, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. His mouth moves against yours with urgency, his tongue sweeping past your lips, stealing whatever breath you had left.

You don’t stop kissing him. You can’t. Not even as he walks you backwards toward your bedroom. He kicks the door shut behind him, his body pressing you against it, trapping you between the cool wood and the solid heat of him.

His hands roam, slipping under your sleep shirt, fingers skimming over your tits, tracing the curve of your spine. Your head tilts back as he trails kisses down your jaw, your neck, teeth scraping just enough to make you shiver.

“Jagiya,” he mumbles, voice thick, rasping against your skin.

You don’t have any other words right now—not when he’s sucking a wet bruise into your collarbone, not when his fingers slide lower, dancing along the lace of your panties.

So you just say the only thing that matters. “I love you, too.”

A low curse falls from his lips, and then he’s moving you to the bed, dropping you onto the mattress before crawling over you, eyes dark, hungry.

“Say it again.”

His hands slip beneath your shirt, dragging it up. His lips follow, open-mouthed kisses searing a path up your stomach, taking a nipple between his teeth.

“I love you,” you whisper, voice shaky, hands tangling in his hair, pulling him back up to you.

“I love you, jagi,” Yoongi crashes his mouth to yours again, swallowing your whimpers as his hands slide down—hooking into your panties—slowly, teasingly, pulling them down. “Let me show you what I mean...”

A/N: Whew! ARe wE GoOD??? The L bomb has been dropped and I am soooo happy because these two deserve the world.

Let me know what you think in the comments. Or do reblog if you are so inclined. <3

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful human! xo

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do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my writing without my express permission to do so.

[theocddiaries]

Tails: Guys, who wants to help me test my polygraph? Knuckles: Oh, me, me, me, me, me, pick me, pick me, pick me--! Amy: Knuckles, shut up, you already have the wires attached. Knuckles [looks at himself]: Cool! …What was this for??? Tails: My polygraph. Knuckles: Oh, yeah, I want to try it! Where do I talk into? And how far does it reach?? Sonic: Knucks, that’s a telegraph. This is a polygraph. Knuckles: What I said. Sonic: No, a poly--a lie detector, Knuckles. Knuckles: Aaaah. But then do I have to lie down? Should’ve tested it at home. The floor’s hard. Tails: No, it's not necessary. This will only detect small but significant changes in your physiology. Knuckles: … Amy: The machine will beep when you lie. Knuckles: Ha! It will never beep because I never lie. Beep Tails: It works. Nice! Amy: Great. Can I ask a question? Knuckles, my dear, did you eat both trays of cookies I prepared for my girls’ night last night??? Knuckles: … … Well, that question’s a trap. Because… what even is a cookie? Amy: Answer! Knuckles: It was Sonic. beep Knuckles: Fine, it was Cheese. beep Knuckles: Okay, it was me, but because I was sleepwalking. beep Knuckles [ripping the wires off]: Take this off me! This machine’s crap, it’s picking on me! Tails: No, wait, I didn’t have time to-- Sonic: Don’t worry, I’ll do it. Tails: Thanks. Amy, no more questions. Amy: I’ve got what I needed. Tails [finishes putting the wires on Sonic]: Alright. Is it Tuesday today? Sonic: …I dunno. Knuckles: Kid, you make all these gadgets, but can’t even look at a calendar?? Amy: We need to start with easy questions. Although, asking about that to Sonic… I have to call him to remind him about his birthday. [Shadow and Rouge walk up to their table with a jacket] Rouge: Hey, Blue. You forgot this at my club. Again. Amy: Speaking of birthdays, didn’t I give you that jacket?? If you don’t like it, you should’ve told me! Sonic: I do like it, Amy! Tails [types]: He’s telling the truth. Sonic: Ha! Knuckles: Not fair! That’s favoritism! Sonic: It’s just that I tell the truth. What you see is what you get with me. Shadow: A scattered mind, then. This is the fifth time this week you’ve forgotten something at Rouge’s club or her apartment. And it’s only Tuesday. Knuckles: Hey, hey! That question doesn’t count, Shadow already gave the answer! Amy: Knuckles, it doesn’t work that way… Sonic: I’m just forgetful. [points at the silent polygraph]: See? Shadow: Then hang it over your shoulders. I’ve got enough with picking up after Rouge. Rouge: Ignore him, he’s in a bad mood because he doesn’t like it when I speak facts. Shadow: I am not in a mood. I'm used to you making enough things up to make a film. Knuckles: Why didn't you tell me you were making a film?? At least for a small role. Amy: The surprising thing is that you didn’t break Tails' machine… Shadow: I mean she has too much free time. Rouge: I theorize that Sonic forgets his things on purpose so he can see Shadow more often. Sonic: Yeah, I waste hours of my time thinking about how I can spend more time with this guy becasue I love his company… [Everyone looks at the machine instinctively, but it stays silent. Sonic tenses in his seat. Shadow blushes and dashes off. Amy and Rouge exchange a glance.] Tails [taps the machine]: Uh, I think it’s really broken now… Knuckles: I’m glad. That machine was too biased. I hated it. Wouldn’t even make the top ten of your inventions. Rouge [holding back laughter]: Well, for me, it’s become my favourite one. Knuckles: Of course, you both enjoy making me look bad.

[merakiui]

the parasites won,,, so anyway here are my very silly and scrambled college au thoughts for alfred and matthew.

the idea here is that it's their first year of uni and they're both loser virgins. something something alfred who is all talk: "dude, i am so gonna get laid!!! body count through. the. ROOF!!!" guy who joins a frat probably,,, halfway through uni he swaps his glasses for contacts because he thinks it'll make him look hotter if he ditches the glasses. he works out and plays sports,, maybe for the love of the game but also because he has keep healthy between the fast food he's eating. but also it is cute to imagine a chubby alfred.........

matthew who is your typical wallflower. alfred drags him to parties and then immediately forgets about him, so he's just left to stand and,,, exist. ^^;;; in my mind he's an environmental sciences major. it just feels right to me for some reason. he's a really sweet, shy guy who is often overshadowed by his brother, so it catches him by surprise when you meet and you call him by his name. he almost thinks you're looking for alfred and when he asks that you give him a weird look. "uh, no? i'm looking for matthew. you are matthew, yeah?" WAAAAA be still, his heart!!!!!! orz orz

very silly but alfred and matthew rivalry for you maybe!!!! and the only reason you're sleeping with alfred is so you can hopefully get closer to the professor (england or france) since he knows them beyond the classroom and can probably do you a solid. you have big goals (to sleep with your professor). your first conversation with matthew probably went like:

"so what do you like most about professor kirkland/bonnefoy?"

"he's hot and i need him to plaster me to the wall. next question."

and he's just like, "oh... um, okay......." T_T

matthew who falls for you because you're one of the few people who actually sees him and doesn't mistake him for his loud-mouthed brother. spending time studying (discussing your strategy to seduce your professor and he listens LOL) at coffee shops, taking nature walks together, exploring the next city over if you're bored of your usual spots on campus, etc etc. you probably get high together. everyone thinks alfred is the cool brother who drinks and smokes and fools around (and he does when he's feeling up for it), but matthew has his secret sides, too!!! something something you get high and handsy and give him head and he understands immediately why alfred chases after this. you're like matthew's perfect wet dream come to life hehe.

with alfred, you're just fuck buddies. you party and drink together. play video games. make late-night fast food runs together. it's fun, but there's nothing else beyond that. but with matthew you're actually getting to know each other, spending time together as friends (and he hopes one day something more), and he's never dated anyone seriously before, so he thinks maybe he has a chance. for once, you like him for him and you're not just being nice because he's "alfred's brother." aaaa he's so happy. >w<

matthew with his big mushy-gushy crush on you,,, it does not help when alfred has you over and he can hear the two of you going at it late into the night. seeing you in the morning and you're wearing one of alfred's shirts and nothing else....... AAAAAAA he's running back to his room and covering his eyes. >_< too erotic,,, if you flirt with him, you might actually kill him. he's really so sweet. alfred will laugh and call him a nerd (as if he himself isn't a nerd, too), but really who's winning here? >:)

basically the plot here is that it's a very obscure square??? it's just sex and goofy fun and the occasional moment where you actually attend class in between it all. extrovert jock fratboy alfred x darling (purely fuck buddies...or is it??) but darling is salivating over professors kirkland/bonnefoy (the old man chaser ever). sweetheart introvert (with barely any presence) matthew x darling (genuine one-sided? romance is blossoming).

[ghouljams]

So, I recently discovered that I'm not aromantic, I just have OCD. My psychiatrist diagnosed me with it, and it seems it's just a bad case of contamination OCD, because it turns out most people don't feel like having a mental breakdown just because their SO gave them a hug. While it's nice to know there's a reason I'm the way I am, it still doesn't really help in the dating world. Unfortunately, most people take insult and think I'm saying that I think they're dirty, when in reality it's my brain saying that EVERYTHING is dirty and I can't touch anything or anyone without a great deal of stress. And I do get it, I would be a little upset if my partner had to shower and change clothes just because I was near them lmao.

Anyway, my question is, which of the lads do you think would best be able to handle a partner like that? I think Soap would die trying to resist touching his partner and wouldn't do great with it lmao. I think Ghost or Nikto might be alright though, especially Nikto. Idk, I just feel like he'd understand the urge to want to tear your skin off just because someone touched you. I think he'd get that sometimes you desperately want to hold your partner and show how much you love them, but just can't, and how much that hurts.

Sorry if this is a little too deep and personal, I'm just curious who you think could and couldn't handle a partner who's a bit different. I'm always really interested in your takes on the boys and how they deal with challenging situations.

Oh dear Grizz, that's hard. I think any future partners this just becomes a very in depth and evolving conversation between the two of you, but also there's a lot of medication and therapies for this sort of OCD, so it doesn't have to be this stressful forever. Which is also a sentiment that's kind of hard to see when it's down the road, but you already know that. Just work with your therapist and maybe they'll have some thoughts on managing your compulsions.

But again you'll just have to talk to anyone you want to date about this. Communication is key, as always.

Anyway you already got the answer on the boys Grizz! Ghost or Nikto would absolutely be the best suited for a partner who has issues with touch for whatever reason. As much as I think Soap/Gaz/Price would try to be understanding, there's a certain level of pushy that each of them is when it comes to getting what they want before really thinking about what you might want...

Nikto on the other hand would be perfectly happy to sit in the same room and never touch each other. He gets it, knowing that your skin doesn't sit quite right even when everyone else tells you there's nothing wrong. He knows. He might get the urge occasionally to grab you, but the man is nothing if he's not tempered. He'd rather skin himself than put you through the obvious pain that touch puts you through.

Ghost knows what it's like to feel dirty, dirty in a way that can't be cleaned with a shower and fresh clothes. He understands the way touching people can make skin crawl and finger itch to scrub the feeling away. He's not big on physical affection anyway so he's fine not touching you if that's what you need, he's got other ways to show you he cares.

I do think though that for both of these men they'd need semi-regular reassurance that you don't think they're dirty in particular, just because of the trauma they've each been through and the depersonalization that resulted from it. But that's available upon request so they just sorta grunt whenever they're getting too in their head and sit quietly as you run through symptomology for the millionth time. Patience is needed from both parties in this relationship

[ledetlore]

listen, i know everyone hates nathaniel coal and a small part of me does too, but a bigger part of me ACHES wondering about how much he's feeling right now. i mean!! here is your son. your first baby. you loved him so much. you didn't always get it right, and you did your best, even if you didn't have help. maybe, at some point, you started noticing what he lacked, and maybe you pushed him to be better, but that's only because you saw so much potential in him! for the longest time, it was you and him against the world... until suddenly, it wasn't. and that broke you.

but you got up! bc if there's one thing you know how to do, it's to keep going! it's to keep working! to keep living! you have more kids, your family grows, you have more boys and a girl. you can never replace your first baby, but life has gotten better.

and then suddenly. he's back! the son you thought you lost is back!! and he's different and he's hurt and he's been used and abused and oh, he asks you, where were you? why didn't you come after me? why did i have to be the one to go to you? why did you give up? you didnt give up on my your life here, you got up, got better, but not once did you come after me? not once? you gave up on me that easily, papa?

anyway. here's my partner. this man you think of as a monster. he's my family now. he was there for me when you weren't. he knows things about me i'll never tell you.

gideon never says all those things, but that's what nathaniel hears.

what's an old man to do, then, huh? what's an old man to do with all these feelings? does anyone know? certainly not nathaniel coal.

anyway. i can't wait for the breakdown that's about to happen. your fic has me by the throat.

i miss the boys, though. gricko would not STAND for this behavior from the coals, im sure of it.

also are we ever going to figure anything out about gideon's mom?

okay this ask got me so bad I ran a bubble bath, cracked open a nice cold cider and I'm now gonna answer best as I can. Just imagine me typing this on a layer of white bubbles.

Technically, this is answered over the next chapters, but I can give you a sneak peak.

Okay, let's get into it. Radiohead is playing, I am emotional, and fuck it, I wanna answer.

Without giving too much away;

Pa loves Gideon. He loves his kids. When you love something with your whole heart and it goes, it takes your heart with it. None of Pa's kids will ever know what Pa was with Gideon, and they sort of know it, with the way he gets sometimes - looking at the fields like there's still someone running through them when they're all inside. Hopeful.

Pa woke up to Gideon left on his doorstep, months after what he thought was a casual lay with a woman he thought he had dreamed. Parents dead, ranch just about running, about twenty three with no clue in the world of what to do with himself or a baby.

Giving up his youth for the baby, cause that's what you do when you're a good man with a big heart. He gave every part of that big heart to Gideon, keeping just enough back to keep his body running.

Then it's burning.

He's screaming, your baby is screaming, and you're running out to touch him, save him, stroke his hair and whisper that you'd never let anything happen - when a thud hits you, something dark and sharp across your face like the world's cruelest slap.

You wake up to a friend shaking you, begging you to be alive. You get up and you look for him, for your baby, but all there is are steadily filling train tracks, the scent of sulfur, and a long dark horizon.

You lose yourself. You give up. You drink, but that's not enough. Suddenly, all the coin you've been saving? Women. More drinks. Waking up in ditches.

You meet a girl two years younger than you. You saw her when you were younger, in the market with her mother while you had just lost yours.

You fuck her. She's lovely, she's sweet, it's her first time - it's your fiftieth. A month later she runs to your house, paint peeling, still smoke-stained. She's pregnant.

You could get a healer, sweep it all away, but fuck, she's scared. You feel responsible. Suddenly, you're swearing to do right by her and the kid, barely an hour after drinking another bottle of whiskey down. Maybe it helps. Maybe it doesn't.

So you buck up. Quit cold, you ain't a fucking wimp. She helps you, the first few months, and then you're helping her, she's tired, she's hurting, she's got a baby in her and God don't you remember how hard it was to have one just show up?

She gives birth. It's painful, she's screaming, your favourite hat tears in your hands from how tight you're holding it.

You don't give the baby your name, that was Gideon's. You call him John Markus Cowle - it's a fine name enough. The woman, she's sweaty, exhausted, eyes bagged and hands shaking.

She's never looked more beautiful.

You marry the next year, and the ceremony is empty on your side of the aisle, but she's stunning in her white dress. You fall harder than you thought possible.

Life goes on. Three more children, the third a surprise neither expected but both want so so terribly. She's a girl, and suddenly there's two angels in your life. You love and care for your sons, but baby girl is special- the first deep love you've felt since Gideon.

Life is beautiful, for a while. She grows up, like her mother but so stubborn, like you.

Then he comes back.

The day isn't even special. it's not an anniversary or a holiday. It's the start of another week in growing season.

You feel everything, so you make yourself feel nothing. Close yourself. Struggle to speak. He looks nothing like your baby, but all like you, the curve of his brows like his mother (distant as she is in your mind) and scarred like a circus lion. His tail, which used to smack you in bed, is gone. His horns are smaller than you thought they'd be.

He's shackled.

Then out from behind him comes something you've only ever heard about. A lizardfolk. An alligator. Both predators.

You couldn't protect your son, and now there's four more of your babies that you can't see, can't defend. Your girl, your angel, she's too curious - she's so similar to Gideon, who's here now, and she's going to be hurt.

You can't lose another.

Gideon is so big, you can't fit his face in your palm anymore, he looks like you but just a little off, he's beautiful and everything you wanted to see him grow into.

This lizardfolk is dressed far too nice. That's... worse almost. Because the shackles on his wrists need to come from somewhere.

Dear Anon, you will see more soon. Pa also needs to work through this, and he's spent years treating the memory of Gideon like a drop of diamond, precious and unbreakable.

He's a complicated man. I am crying now, having written this out. God, I am not made for this kind of angst, and here I am, hurting myself.

There's going to be a moment it all crashes down and the rubble may not be able to be used to rebuild. Still, a foundation doesn't disappear.

[a-man-in-the-crowd]

HELLO EVERYONE YK WHAT TIME IT IS (probably)

i love you eulalie never change

montresor's adhd is unmatched holy shit bro 😭 (it's probably more abt how he's scared and needs something to distract him but like. sh. i want my lil hcs.)

monty, disrespectfully, get thrown off a cliff (preferably by will or ada ❤️)

PLZ eulalie and prospero twinning with their begrudging moral codes, tho eula's is coming in a lot less high stakes situation thank the gods

the eye twitch of a man who was asked about marriage and dating too many times in life, you can't change my mind. AND OH GODS NOT MONTY'S NICE FACE NO 😭

lowkey this is hilarious like god damn monty can rlly say anything and will will be like "yeah that makes sense"

okay, so, as much as i would LOVE for will to follow eulalie and join the misfits... let's be real, there is no way he actually is going to, especially not with monty around to manipulate him. but the fact he has a flashback in the next episode makes me a little more hopeful. but ALSO, i don't think at this point in the story would will switch teams, we just haven't gotten enough will development for it to make sense. i really am praying will defies the odds tho bc i REQUIRE will-eulalie friendship to breathe 😭

also i swear on my life people HAVE to stop telling will what to do. i honestly think that if he was ever directionless, he might have some positive development but like who knows. i just think eula telling will what to do, even if she didn't realize it came off as pressuring at all, would be a bad start to their friendship.

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL THIS PANEL IS GORGEOUS?? THE TAROT CARD REFERENCE (i'm assuming?)?? BEAUTIFUL CHEF'S KISS

i'm honestly pretty sure the chains are just metaphorical, but i saw some people in the comments suggesting it could be monty's oppression ability. but, like, is monty even in good enough shape to currently use his spectre abilities, especially out of his spectre form? well obviously we've seen will use his spectre abilities outside of his spectre form, and monty almost did once so hm idk

and, of course...

all i'll say is this isn't the WORST birthday gift imaginable, like it looks like someone (monty, maybe? 👀) is pulling him up? if it's monty though i'm not sure how much help it could be. did the hounds get to them, is that why will has a flashback?? i did have a theory that the stag would land where will and monty were, but the place the stag was jumping didn't look like a library?? and we DID see the hounds already so it's more likely that

anyways, in conclusion: eulalie is iconic, will needs help (STOP TELLING HIM WHAT TO DO GUYS I NEED TO SEE WHAT'D HAPPEN), and monty is... still monty i fear

[rangersoup]

Hi. I am obsessed with your user name and icon! Do you think knowing Carlos will change Campbell's stance on the job and on his marriage?

First off, thank you so much Michelle (both for the kind compliments and the excuse for me to write an essay about my beloved blorbo)!!!

The short answer is yes.

But as THE Ranger Soup blog, i feel I'm morally and legally obligated to give a long answer, so here is my essay:

In actual canon (not canon to me) we know a handful of things (but not nearly enough things if you ask me). Here are the facts: Soup buys the same flowers for his wife for every special occasion. Soup states that his wife quote "gets it." and elaborates that she gets that there are more important things for him to use his brain power on than giving her actual thoughtful gifts. This, to me, almost insinuates a little bit of an unbalance in his work-life balance. But the caveat to this is, that we also know for a fact that he absolutely loves his family and thinks having kids is the greatest thing in the world (otherwise he wouldn't have four of them!) AND he'll play hooky from work to go to his kid's birthday party which insinuates the opposite, that he values being there for special moments with his family over work. We also know for a fact that Ashlyn is extremely loyal to her husband and has absolute faith in him (if she didn't, she would've told Carlos and Bridges about the house in Mexico right off the bat, but instead she risked going to prison rather than betraying her husband).

So with this in mind, I think Ashlyn truly is understanding and does quote "get it" and doesn't put pressure on him to make big grand gestures, and he does other things that count for a lot more (showing up for things involving the kids even when he's supposed to be at work) and to me, him being there for things like that is more important to her than him getting her nice things for anniversaries and what not. And how I think all of this equates in his straight man brain is: oh she gets it and doesn't pester me, therefore flowers are fine. I don't need to put in a bunch of effort. I'm doing great. *double thumbs up*

But now to get to the "yes" of it all. I think that working with Carlos "I'm going to buy a loft for my boyfriend" Reyes, the actual king of romantic gestures, will be a very eye-opening for Soup. I think seeing the effort Carlos puts forth into showing his deep appreciation for his husband will make Soup stop and think and reflect a little bit. And ultimately go from "She gets it and gives me grace therefore i don't need to be going all out." to "She gets it and gives me grace, therefore I should be going all out to show her how much appreciate her and her understanding. And I should be doing a better job of making sure she knows how important she is to me."

Does that answer the question?

[eden-writes-stuff]

tags: NSFT, 18+, thigh riding, drunk sex, Sirius is so deep in the closet he's basically in Narnja, also this is kinda angsty - sorry not sorry

Sirius hated Mary! 

He also loved her and was incredibly thankful that she was the way she was. Because it was her fault, and her fault only that Remus Lupin was sitting in his lap, leaning against him so comfortably. He could smell his hair, see every vein in his neck, the rising and falling of his chest. And worst of all; Remus' gorgeous ass pressing right against his rock-hard dick.

Sirius had stopped trying to follow their game of truth or dare four minutes and forty-eight seconds ago. Meaning, that he only had five minutes and twelve seconds left to avoid a very embarrassing incident. Remus would hate him if he saw how he reacted to him. He would be disgusted. It would destroy everything between them. 

But right now the only thing that actually was between them were their trousers...

Sirius tried to think of Snape. All greasy and slimy. His breath probably smelled of mould. It actually seemed to work until-

Sirius let out a small whine as Remus shifted in his lap. Two minutes thirty-nine seconds left. He noticed Remus pausing, staying still like a statue. 

Oh no... Oh No! 

What was he gonna think of him?

Greasy hair, old people, yellow teeth, grown-in toenails, dead insects.

"Oh, your ten minutes are over," Marlene informed them after what felt like an eternity.

 Without looking at him Remus rose and sat back down to his left. Sirius almost immediately leaned forward to spin the bottle in the middle of their circle and simultaneously cover his crotch with his body. 

It landed on James. "Truth or dare?" "Dare." Sirius tried to come up with something, but all he could think of was how his trousers were way too tight. "Switch outfits with me." The girls 'uhhhhh'ed with big grins.

 James eyed him. "I will never fit into that. You're not more than a stick and it's already tight on you." "It's gonna look great on you. Now stop whining. It's a dare!" He threw a pillow in James' general direction in a pathetic attempt to distract people. That way when they looked back toward him, he was already heading towards the stairs, up to their dorm room.

They switched their shirts and trousers, even their socks behind closed curtains. Sirius made sure that James left first, to get at least a moment to himself. That moment turned out to be very short when Remus entered only seconds after. 

Sirius averted his gaze and bit his lip. He had to say something. 

"I'm sorry," they both blurted out at the same time, then looked at each other confused. "What are you sorry for?" This time Sirius was quicker.

Remus was slightly blushing when he answered. "I shouldn't have... I don't know. I feel like I did something to make you... you know..." "You didn't. It wasn't your fault," Sirius assured him quickly, "I was the one that made it weird. You had to be there. It was a dare." 

"Yeah. That's why I usually choose truth." They both laughed quietly before a short, but uncomfortable silence fell over them. 

"You didn't make it weird though. It's just a physical reaction, right? It doesn't mean anything. It's just... when there's pressure, it just happens sometimes. And with all the alcohol..." 

Sirius nodded quickly. "Yeah. Exactly."

This time the silence wan't quite as uncomfortable. "I still feel kinda bad though. Just leaving you to yourself, I mean..." Sirius' eyes shot up in surprise. 

"Not that I'd want to do... you... But if you don't want to handle yourself..." Sirius carefully listened to him ramble for a good while before he was sure enough and found the courage to interrupt him. 

"Would be nice." 

Now it was Remus' turn to look up at him. "So you'd want to?" "It's better than doing it yourself, isn't it?" he added quickly. "Yeah." "Right." "Right." "But only if it's really okay-" "it is." "Sure?" "Sirius...!" "Okay, okay. I won't ask anymore... I'm not like that though..." "Oh, I know. Neither am I. It's just helping out a friend, isn't it?" "Yeah!" "Right." "Right." "We already did that part." "True."

With new confidence, Remus walked over to him, sitting on the bed. 

"I should take the trousers off, though. They're James'. I think he'd appreciate it if I kept them clean" "As long, as you're wearing something." 

Sirius nodded and nervously tried to undo the belt that he had put on only minutes earlier. After a long moment, Remus decided to spare him the embarrassment. His long, slender fingers looked way too good to be true in the dim light of their dorm. 

Sirius felt almost giddy with excitement when Remus put James' trousers on the floor and gently led him onto the bed. 

He could hear his heart racing in his chest when they lay down next to each other.

"This doesn't change anything, does it?" Sirius asked quietly. 

"Of course not. It's what friends do, isn't it? They help each other out." 

Right. Because they were friends. Because this meant absolutely nothing to Remus and it was just his way of being so irresistibly nice. 

Sirius closed his eyes and hummed in agreement. He was just about ready when Remus parted his bare legs with his own. He could feel his thigh pressing upward. 

"You need to come closer." His voice alone was enough to drive him close to insanity. Sirius obeyed instantaneously, his hands gripping Remus' sides to steady himself.

He was unusually shy at first. Unsure, of what he was or wasn't allowed to do, but when Remus started shifting his thigh against his underwear Sirius couldn't help it anymore. He let out a quiet groan and moved his hips greedyly. 

His hands grabbed the back of Remus' sweater. He wanted to bite something. To feel his soft skin; to kiss him. But that would be falling into the territory of homosexual activities.

So instead he focused on the feeling of having him this close, of his muscles twitching between his legs. 

He felt pathetic, completely at his mercy. But this was Moony. Moony wouldn't hurt him. Not like this. Not right now. His head fell against his shoulder as he continued grinding against his jeans. His mouth fell open as a quiet, breathy moan escaped.

Remus' arms wound around him, pulling him closer. Sirius just about died right then and there. His need for Remus getting stronger and stronger with every motion. In a moment of weakness, the word slipped out. It wasn't more than a whisper, a whine under his breath. 

"Moony!" 

Remus didn't seem to mind, he started softly stroking his back, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. 

"You're doing so good. You can come whenever you want."

When his body started shaking and his moans got louder, Remus aided him by pressing his thigh against his throbbing erection. He kept the pace steady until Sirius came into his pants.

The fabric immediately darkened, while Sirius was still panting and sighing, clinging to Remus. 

He didn't even consider letting go of him. He was too warm, too perfect, too everything-he-ever-wanted. Sirius was fighting the urge to cry.

"Sirius?" He responded with a low grunt. "Are you okay?" His voice is soft, and caring. "Sure," Sirius answered quietly then drew back when he realised what he was doing. 

"Sorry." His eyes darted downwards to avoid his gaze and to check that he hadn't spilled anything when he noticed the bulge in Remus' trousers.

 He could feel the blood shoot to his cheeks. Was this because of him?

"As I said, pressure and alcohol tend to have that effect," Remus murmured. Sirius bit back a grin. 

"Now I feel bad leaving you to yourself." Their eyes meet for a long moment. His heart seems to be doing flick-flacks in his chest. 

What the hell? He shouldn't get this excited at the thought of getting Remus off. It wasn't right. It was... gay.

"You don't have to..." "Neither did you, but that's what friends are for, right?" "Yeah, right." 

Sirius shifted a little to lie on his back, looking up at Remus. "Take your seat," he winked and - Godric help him - Remus was blushing. 

"Can I... take them off too? It doesn't count if we're still wearing underwear, does it?" "Of course not. The zipper would probably be a problem anyway," Sirius assured him quickly.

The lanky boy rose from the bed to take his trousers off. The way he was pressing against the tight fabric was enough to make Sirius' imagination run wild. He was close to actually drowling. 

He had to be huge. Just below the zone where it was sure to get uncomfortable in certain scenarios.

For the second time that day, Remus took his place in Sirius' lap. Although, the last time, they both didn't sigh quite as loudly. And last time Remus hadn't ground against him, their cocks only separated by two pieces of cloth.

Remus was a quiet one. He was all sighs and breathy 'fuck's and 'oh, yes''s, while Sirius gasped and whined and moaned - partially because he had only come minutes earlier and was still sore. But if anything was worth it, it was this.

Remus Lupin during sex was probably the most astonishingly beautiful thing Sirius had ever seen in his life. His mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes dark. 

Unable to think for too long Sirius placed his hands on his friend's hips to guide him into a steady rhythm, while simultaneously pulling him even closer.

None of them seemed to mind what they were doing. It felt like nature, the most human thing. It didn't matter what was happening around them or what anybody would think, because this, this right here was everything they needed. 

The pressure of the other one. Their desperate need for... something. For each other.

"Fuck, Sirius!"

Sirius loved the way, Remus' voice got even deeper. The slight roughness was better than any drug Sirius had ever taken.

It was torture. He wanted more. 

He wanted all of it. 

He wanted to make him moan in pleasure every fucking day, wanted to hear his name fall from his lips just like that.

Instead of giving in to emotion, he started pressing against him feverishly as if he could get rid of what kept them apart through pure willpower. 

But of course, he couldn't. And so Remus came into his pants only minutes later with the most beautiful, heartwrenching moan Sirius had ever heard. 

To his surprise, all this was enough to bring him over the edge a second time.

Remus let himself fall on top of him, weighing him down like a heavy blanket. 

Carefully he turned his head to the side, watching and feeling Remus relax. He didn't let go of him for a single second and Sirius wasn't going to ask him to. If it were up to him, they could stay like this all night.

"Sirius?" His voice was still rough, like sandpaper, merely a whisper. "Hm?" 

Remus opened his eyes to look at him. 

Their lips were only a few centimetres apart. He hesitated before answering. "I think that was the best wank I've ever had."

They both started laughing and just like that it's over. Remus pushed himself up to sit and ran a hand through his messy hair.

He would have to thank Mary sometime.

[princess-glassred]

@cwcthzl sorry to @ you again but I thought of more hijinks for Stanley and Richie to get up to in the freaky friday au and i thought it'd be weird to dm em.

•Adorable montage of them teaching each other how to act more like they normally do.

•When Richie arrives for Stanley's fancy admissions dinner Donald and Andrea try to introduce him to the stuffy school dean very first thing, but Richie makes a bee line for the table, plops his ass down with a menu, and says "Yeah, yeah whatever- do you think they serve chicken nuggets here?".

•Richie tries to nervously push up his glasses but he forgets hes stan so he doesnt have glasses and accidentally pokes himself in the eye out of nowhere and causes a scene.

•"Sorry! Sorry! I guess I'm kinda.... just not myself today."

•Then when Donald and Andrea point out that the old guy sitting across from him is the dean Richie folds IMMEDIATELY. "Oh my god, Mr. School Dean sir, i am SO sorry- i didn't mean to sit down and not introduce myself to you and- oh no don't shake my hand, i forgot to wash my hands when i left the bathroom.... uhm i don't NORMALLY do that, i was just very excited to get out here and meet you so i... forgot.".

•Donald tries to goade Richie into talking about birds since he thinks that'll impress the dean Richie has to pretend like he gives a fuck about birds. The dean asks richie what his favorite bird is and richie freaks and says "pigeon.". "Pigeons? Just pigeons?". "Yeah well they poop on big city guys and i think that's pretty funny.".

•When the conversation turns to talking about numbers richies like. "Oh yeah, i love numbers, i love math, i'm good at calculating things. Did you know that 6 × 4 is 24? I'm serious, look it up if you don't believe me."

•At one point richie calls stans mom and dad "madre and padre" and they're so fucking confused.

•After the bomb of an admissions lunch richie feels terrible, so he wants to do something really nice for Stan. So he takes his allowance and goes shopping for stan some nice clothes, and NOT JUST CLOTHES RICHIE THINKS ARE NICE. He really does try to find stan something nice that fits his personality, but also gets stan out of his comfort zone! He wants him to look nice, not ridiculous.

•He also uses this as an oppertunity to wear some sunglasses because Richie's never actually gotten the chance to wear sunglasses. Prescription ones are too expensive, but now as stan he can flip em up like every stereotypical cool dude in the movies.

•When Stan sees his new look he's utterly horrified. Richie didn't even cut his hair or anything, he's just wearing sunglasses and some new clothes. When stan asks "what did you DO to me??" Richie just says "it's called color stanley, and you happen to look great in it. It's not the great depression anymore, we're allowed the luxury of dyes.".

•Stan also got his drivers license before Richie, because, lets face it, richie doesnt belong behind the wheel ever. So Richie gets to drive as Stan and stan is very upset by this.

•Richie also tries to slick stan's hair down with some gel but it just will NOT. STAY. SLICKED. DOWN. it's like stans medusa but instead of snakes he just had sentient locks of hair! It's like trying to wrap up an entire uncurled ball of yarn, it's impossible. The hair has a mind of it's own and it will not abide by what Richie thinks is cool.

•Richie also finds out that, despite stan being incredibly neat and detail orientated and tidy, there is one designated spot of Stan's room he keeps dirty, and that is a bed side table that's FILLED with just random junk stan can't bear to part with. Richie is utterly scandalized to know tidy ass stan has a hoarder drawer, and the stuff he hoardes isn't even really important stuff-- at least not at a first glance. He has a box of expired pasta, a case of broken hairtyes, a tape recorder with all the buttons fallen off and... a really ugly necklace richie made him when they were in second grade. It's got a bunch of tacky mismatched beads and it's so not Stanley's style, but... he didn't throw it out :,).

•Richie runs into Henry Bowers at one point (this is one of those no juniper hills aus) and he starts bullying him for being jewish and all richie can think while it's happening is. "Jeez, his jew jokes are way less funny than mine".

•Meanwhile Stan is confronted with his worst challenge yet: Hanging out in Richie's disgusting room. Eugghhh.

•Seriously the place is a jungle and it makes him long for when he woke up with blurry vision and couldn't see anything.

•Stan asks Maggie and Wentworth what's the cleanest spot in the whole house because "he cannot focus in such mess" and both very surprised. Richie's never talked like that before, and he has always been very insistent that he liked having his room a pig stye because it was easier to find everything. Now they see Richie walking around his room like he's manuevering through a mine field, but instead of land mines it's dirty underwear. Yuck!

•Also when they first woke up in each others bodies and were freaking each other out Stan accidentally stepped onto something wet and mushy feeling and, without even looking down, asked Richie. "Richie. What am i standing in right now? -_-". "Uhhhh, the pizza i had in here since fourth of July." "...." "...." "You should probably change your socks." "You're right Richie, which ones should i use? The ones that smell like sweat or the ones with black on the bottom? Oh you actually have a clean pair? Well my oh my the surprises never stop do they?".

•When he goes on his date with Connor he takes off Richie's glasses in an attempt to read the menu but ofc it just looks like blurry smudges. Stan just groans and says "Oh he's actually fucking blind- well this stinks.".

•Stanley forcing himself to like Connor goes pretty terribly. He could not give less of a crap about this dude, and the fact Connor has such a fuckin ego about himself makes it worse. Stan isn't someone who giggles and fusses over another person, especially not someone he doesn't like. Ofc he still loves his friends but he doesn't melt from flattery like Richie and he also has no interest in essentially being this dudes cheerleader. But he has to be Richie now, and Stanley's only frame of reference for him and Connors relationship is obsessively onesided cuteness from Richie. So alas... "Wow Connor. You're so... nice. Your arms are really... wow, and your teeth. They're so... clean. I can tell you brushed today.... tehee. -_-".

•When Stanley is hanging out with the rest of the losers he and Eddie have a disagreement about something really tiny and everyone's like "omg, here come the fireworks! Time for the to start squabbling!" and then they just don't. Stanley calmly gets out of the hammock and let's him have it, much to their sheer horror.

•Also when they are first getting used to each other's bodies Richie will not stop making ugly faces or doing weird poses at Stan to annoy him. He even does the robot at one point and Stan's mortified. There ain't shit he can do about it tho other than whine and complain, which isn't all too different from Stan normally.

•Bill is feeling down about random life troubles and he asks Stan if he can tell him a joke to cheer him up. Stan scratches the back of his neck and shuffles his feet all awkwardly, then settles on. "What did the bunny say to the other bunny? Don't be mad be hoppy. You see it's really funny because bunnies don't know how to talk.".

•Stan and Richie try to run back to the Jade of the Orient and talk to the lady that swapped their bodies, but when they get there multiple people are screaming at each other in chinese because they already know what happened and they're not happy. It's oddly reassuring to know SOMEONE is freaking out as much as they are, but Richie points out to stan that they're actually making fun of them while they do it. "Really Richie? I never knew you spoke mandarin." "I don't." "Then how do you know?" "Because that lady is cupping her hands around her eyes to make fun of my glasses and that other lady just straightened her posture to make fun of the way you stand." "...Oh." "Yeah..." "...Wait, am I crazy or are they immitating our voices too?" "-_- Yep.".

•Richie eats some fast food and Stan proceeds to have a heart attack over it.

•When Stan tries to tell his friends he's actually Stan and not Richie they all just laugh and assume it's another one of Richie's stupid bits. The more he doubles down the more the losers think he's just joking. Then when Stan tries to point out his vocabulary is totally different the losers are just like "yeah! Your impressions are getting so much better!".

•They try to switch back a number of ways, making a wish, prayer to multiple different types of god, deal with the devil, literally just running at each other and slamming their heads together. Nothing works.

[emo-gremlin]

Just thought about this. What would Mr Puzzles do if it got too much and caused you to say the safe word?

Mr. Puzzles if you used the safe word!

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

🖥 Immediately hands off. Unties you if you were tied up.

🖥 Leaves the room to get you water and a nice fluffy blanket from the closet.

🖥 He's shaking, trying to push that angry energy down and anxious that you actually got hurt.

🖥 He's still achingly hard, but disregards it, tending to you more than himself.

🖥 Once you've settled in, you notice his cock twitching, begging for any kind of attention.

🖥 You adjust yourself so you're leaning against him, your soft ass pushing right against his length. You can feel it pulse against you.

🖥 You pretend to try to get comfortable, rubbing against his dick as you shuffle.

🖥 Mr. Puzzles whimpers, just trying to help you relax.

🖥 You chuckle, rolling your hips back.

🖥 He starts panting, "Are...Are you sure?"

🖥 "Yes. Let me help you, at least." You purr.

🖥 You start grinding against him, precum oozing down his length.

🖥 He starts rolling his hips in kind, his grip on your hips gentle enough that you could leave if you wanted to.

🖥 You bite your lip, hands reaching for the back of his head as you continue to work your body against his.

🖥 "Oh...oh yes...please, just like that.." He groans, his breathing becoming heavy.

🖥 You reach for his cock, letting it slip back inside.

🖥 "Wait, are you-"

🖥 "Yes, I am. And yes, I'm sure. Just, be a bit more gentle, ok?"

🖥 "Of course, my star. Anything you you, my love."

🖥 His hips keep rolling against yours, a bit faster this time. He reaches a hand down to your front, touching your hot flesh as it stirs back to arousal.

🖥 You gasp against him, feeling his cock twitch inside you. The position made it pretty easy to hit that sweet spot of yours. And hit it he did. Almost as if he was trying to drill a hole into it.

🖥 You grip at the blanket, at him, his length ravishing your insides harder. His name dripping from your lips as he grabbed at your chest with his other hand, teasing your nipples.

🖥 He's groaning louder now, your name a prayer as it leaks through his speakers.

🖥 The hand on your front is going faster now, your climax almost there.

🖥 His hands return to your hips, gripping them as he starts to ram into you like his life depends on it.

🖥 You're screaming his name as your grip shatters, eyes rolling into your skull as his hips finally come to a stop, his seed making you nice and full.

🖥 You're both panting. "Better?"

🖥 "So much better."

Enjoy~

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[gingersnaptaff]

Once again I have seen somebody writing Gwydion as a good guy and I NEED PEOPLE TO STOP. Pls. Begging. Literally begging at this point. I'm on my KNEES. He is The Worst. This is why I think I fuckin loathe him so much because people don't RESEARCH HIM. I'M DJDKDKDKDDKDK They just see the words 'magician,' 'trickster god,' and 'the light to the family of Llŷr's dark' and think huh he's a cool guy. He is HEINOUS.