#this means I know what songs actually mean I just like to connect them to my favorite

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ popular!chris tells some of the football team all about his little secret

wanted to post this before i start working on the blurb where they finally meet because it will just make everything all make more sense :) also how exciting that the next thing i post for this au will be them meeting!!!!!

my asks are always open for this au! you can find all writings for it here and everything else for it here!

chris was stood by his locker in the changing rooms.

the heavy bass of the music blaring through the speakers, as usual. the beat of the song playing was pounding throughout the room. the rest of the team scattered across the room, all getting ready for practice, talking and laughing, all discussing the upcoming weekend.

this weekend was the annual fancy dress fundraiser and it was a big deal, especially to the team. it was the one night of the year where everyone came together for one massive party as the whole school was usually in attendance, from the jocks to the quiet kids, all packed into one place, it was hosted by the football team to raise money for new equipment, gear and all the things they needed to get through the season. this year, especially, everyone was hyped, and the pressure to raise more money than they had last year was on. chris had been playing well recently, and he knew that just like last year, he expected to be the center of attention all night, but this year was different.

the party had been on his mind a lot but not in the same way as it was for the guys, this year it wasn’t just about getting black out drunk with his friends and raising the funds for football, it was the night he was finally going to meet you in person, the girl he’d been talking to for months, the girl who despite everything, made him feel like he was more than just the football captain, your conversations had turned into something he wasn’t sure how to explain, a connection that now felt so much more intense to him than anything else he had ever experienced, in his world full of constant pressure, you were his little bit of sanity and all he wanted now was to put a face to the words that he had become so attached to.

he’s snapped out of his thoughts of you when he hears matt across from him calling his name, “yo chris, you good?” he says, looking over at him, “you’re so zoned out.”

chris shakes his head, trying to shake off the thoughts that had started to creep up on him. “yeah fine, just fuckin’ tired man.” he mutters, grabbing his helmet off the bench and adjusting his pads.

“what you thinkin’ about? can see something is on your mind.” matt asks, not convinced.

“nah, i’m alright, just thinking about the weekend, still don’t know what i’m dressing up as.” chris mutters, his mind drifting back to the party and the secret he was keeping.

nate, who was stood next to them overhears and sits himself down next to chris, “bro what do you mean? i heard little miss cheerleader is telling everyone that you’re going together” he chuckles, “there’s no way she has left getting your outfits this late.”

“actually..” chris says, feeling ready to confess to his brother and best friend, “i’m not going with her.”

nate's mouth falls open in disbelief and his eyes widen as if they are about to fall out of his head with the shock of chris’s confession, "what the fuck are you talking about?" he laughs, "does she know that? she was bragging in biology this morning about how you’re going matching again”

chris leans back against the bench he was sat on, crossing his arms, shooting nate a look, “yeah, well, it’s all a little more complicated now and we aren’t together anymore, we haven’t been for months.”

“wait…” matt’s tone quickly changing to one of realization, and he raises an eyebrow. “you’ve met somebody else, haven’t you? you’ve been acting weird, being all fuckin’ mysterious and shit for months, all your late nights and always being on your phone is all making sense.” he says, before adding, “i knew it, i fuckin’ knew it. nick owes me fifty dollars”

chris glances between matt and nate, unsure of how much to reveal. he had never shared anything about you with anyone else, just because he wanted to keep you all to himself, “she’s someone i met online over the summer break,” chris says, keeping it vague, but he knows no matter how vague he keeps things, it wouldn’t stop them from asking questions, especially nate who was the biggest gossip chris knew.

nate looks more confused than anything now, leaning in, voice dropping to a whisper, “what do you mean online? you’ve never met her?” he asks.

“no nate, online as in i don’t actually know who she is” chris shrugs before quietly adding, “i met her on that fuckin’ anonymous student forum app during summer break, she doesn’t know who i am”

“oh my god, man” nate smacks his knees and stands up, “this is wild” he says, but before he can say anything else, chris quickly grabs the bottom of his shirt pulling him back to be sat back down.

“listen, keep your fuckin’ mouth shut about her, okay? i don’t want any of the team finding out until i have told ‘little miss cheerleader’ that i can’t go with her to the party” chris says, sternly. “i don’t want anything to fuck this up and i don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“i think it’s kinda hot actually, all the mystery of it all is sexy” nate laughs, “don’t you agree?” he looks over at matt who is quiet, just looking at chris with an almost concerned expression.

matt stands up, grabbing his helmet knowing the conversation was coming to an end, for now, as they needed to get on the field for practice, “as long as you know what you’re doing,” he says, his eyes locking with chris’s. “it’s cool that you’ve met someone new but just be careful with it. shit like this could get complicated real quick, especially if you’re finally meeting face to face.”

chris meets his brothers gaze, feeling the weight of his concern. “i’ve got a good feeling about this and i promise you i know what i’m doing, i wouldn’t be this far in with her if i didn’t.”

matt nods, giving chris a light pat on the back as they make their way towards the tunnel to the field.

“i knew you’d been less grumpy recently,” nate smirks, “it’s all that phone sex you’re having” and before chris can say anything back to that, nate is running down the tunnel and away from him.

[filmnings]

i’m so sorry this took me literally ten years to get to,,, but i’m finally here and omg!!! this was SO good!!!! (๐॔˃̶ᗜ˂̶๐॓)

i know you said that this was like the first fantasy thing that you’ve written and WOAH… i need you to write more fantasy immediately. i feel like it suits your writing style so well and i love the worldbuilding you added in this!! i’m so curious about it all like… the veils??? the veil lanterns (which is such a cool name by the way)???? i could read a whole series on this hehe~~ i really hope you write more fantasy in the future!!!

now here’s my messy live reading lmao >_<

“And I hear a giggle. A giggle! It’s gorgeous. Like the first notes of my favorite song.” stop this is so cute

him communicating with her through the water turning gold or teal is so cute and funny😭 i’m trying to imagine it in real life and i just know i’d be lowkey scared if the water i was looking at suddenly started shimmering gold

“The sound of it is intoxicating—like the sound of leaves rustling in the wind or a bird chirping. It warms me from the inside out.” i love this sentence

“She asks, “What does pink mean?” I shake my head to rid my thoughts of her and the water returns to its natural, clear, blue state.” LMAOOOOO

“booming cities absent from flora and fauna, no magic, lifeless but overwhelming at the same time.” lifeless but overwhelming is such a good description of the human world lmao… it really does feel like this

“Eventually, though, she plucks one out of the ground, holding it between her pointer finger and thumb, twirling it between her fingers. “Just one?”” imagine she just downs like five of them and is higher than the sun

“Her gasp breaks the quiet as her eyes fly open, and for the first time, she sees me.” AHHHHHH ITS HAPPENING

“Smiling, I unfold them, letting them catch the sunlight. Iridescent hues of pink and purple shimmer like liquid light. The intricate patterns etched into the delicate surface that scatter rainbows onto the ground below.” imagining that one scene in tinkerbell secret of the wings (aka the best tinkerbell movie ever)

“You’re so…pretty,” she says. “What’s your name?” SOOBINNNNNNNN

“Her eyes stay on me, intense and unblinking, memorizing every detail of my face to hold onto me for just a moment longer. Then I see it, the shift in her expression. Realization dawns like a shadow passing over her, her gaze losing focus.” i’d start sobbing like NOOOO MY SHAYLAAAAA

“She occupies my every waking moment. I’ve started to feel her even when she’s not here—her absence pressing against me like a quiet storm, a warmth that lingers in the air long after she’s gone. Her voice echoes in my mind when it’s silent. Every time our eyes meet, there’s that spark, that electric connection that tells me we’re on the cusp of something extraordinary.” saving space for this beautiful paragraph❤️

“But before the space between us can grow too wide, she reaches out again, her palm settling against my cheek, her thumb brushing over the curve with a tentative tenderness.” HEHEHEHEHEHE now kiss.

““Can I kiss you?” I whisper.” YEAHHHHHHHHH

him being so confused about what a bra and panties are and the point of them are is so cute!! hehe the way she’s just like “well, look at me…” and he’s all laser focused on her is hilarious

“We call them life lace.” THAT NAME IS SO CUTE HELLO????? petition for everyone to start calling them this

“Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” I say. “We don’t have much time.” ten minutes, no hair tie.

“Use me,” she whispers. I hum in question. “Use me to make yourself feel good.” #needthat

“Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. I start to reach for her, until I remember I can’t touch her.” NOOOOO

“But I won’t really be here, will I?” she says, her voice cracking. “I won’t ever be in the right state of mind when we’re together.” damnn…

I NEED THEM TO BE TOGETHER AGAIN!!!! LIKE ACTUALLY. and i need them to be happy and never have to worry about the veils again!!! sobs cries screams,,, hp you broke my heart.

look at me — faerie!soobin x fem!human!reader

cw. soobin is a human-sized faerie with wings, chubby!reader has braces but that's rarely mentioned, reader has anxiety, reader needs to be high on shrooms to see/hear/touch soobin (it'll make sense i swear! ((dear god i hope it makes sense at least))), kissing, penetration (protection not mentioned), cunnilingus, nipple stuff, "baby," angsty ending, let me know if i missed anything. note. like i said, reader has to be high on shrooms to see, hear, and touch soobin, so technically they're both on drugs when they have sex, so caution if that makes you uncomfy. and oh surprise, surprise! very self indulgent. AND omg- shout out to the talented @hyukascampfire for brainstorming with me when i was first thinking about this and along the way as well. i've never written anything remotely fantasy so this is new territory for me and i'm super nervous for y'all to read it, especially faerie princess ashlynn. but i hope y'all love it <3 wc. 7.2K

There she is again. Not many humans venture this far out into the woods, but I recognize her every time. Well, I recognize her aura. Typically, humans appear in a dream-like haze—I can make out what they look like and even hear what they’re saying. But when their hearts are weighed down, their aura overwhelms everything, blinding me to their true physical form.

My friends tease me for being so fascinated with humans, but I can’t help it. They’re delightful in their peculiar ways—bringing their lovers and friends for little celebrations, visiting us with their sweet treats and elixirs. They’re so distracted with joy, they hardly notice when we take some for ourselves. 

This human is different, though. She’s always alone, shrouded in a deep, stormy grey cloud that darkens every time she returns. For a moment, her aura softens as she rests at the edge of the creek, taking deep breaths while the storm eases into a fragile calm. But it never lasts. Within a week, she returns and the weight she carries seems heavier than before.

Today, she rushes to the creek bed, crouches by the water, and her weeps and cries are the loudest I’ve ever heard. She’s shaking. I creep closer, hoping to make anything out of her cloud, but nothing. Taking a seat on the moss on the other side of the creek, I simply watch her. Her cries crescendo into a gut-wrenching wail and I can’t take it anymore. 

I toss a small pebble into the creek, watching as orange flickers throughout her cloud—fear. After another, it turns a muddy blue—curious. It twists and turns in search of something and when she leans toward the water, I summon a gold shimmer into the creek, dancing across the ripples as it catches the light. Her gasp breaks the silence, and for the first time, I hear her voice, distant and fragile. 

“Oh my god.” 

A grin tugs at my lips. Her cloud has kept her hidden from me all this time, but I just know she’s absolutely adorable. A small pebble shoots out from her direction, falling into the water and I guide it to land right on top of the other two. When she tosses another in, I pause the current entirely, letting the surface hold still. Then, with a flick of my fingers, I release it with a bloop. And I hear a giggle. A giggle! It’s gorgeous. Like the first notes of my favorite song. 

“Hello?” She asks and I conjure a ripple in response. “Is someone there?” In the center of the creek, I create a circle of stillness, the current bending around it at my command. Inside it, I make it change color in an attempt to communicate with her. I add the gold shimmer back, trying to tell her—to scream at her—Yes! Yes, I’m here! I’m right here. But her cloud flares orange—panic—and she stumbles back. In a heartbeat, she’s gone, running away from our dell. 

Oh no. Shoving the heels of my hands into my eye sockets out of frustration, I shake my head. Oh no.

-

It’s been weeks. Every day, I return to watch the humans, hoping my favorite may return. Perhaps it was overwhelming for her—turning water gold that quickly. Regret gnaws at me as I pick a bit of a raspberry from under my nail from when I was harvesting them earlier. A rustle in the distance snaps me to attention, followed by the solid thud of something hitting the mossy ground. 

A human. Not the one I’ve been waiting for, but they catch my eye—curvy and stunning and flipping through a book. After a moment, they put it aside, sitting criss-cross on the creekbank, bending toward the water. 

“Hello?” She asks. Wait. I know that voice. I only heard it for a moment, but I’ve been dreaming about it so much recently, I’d recognize it anywhere now. She’s back! And I can see her! 

And she’s so incredibly beautiful, I can’t help but stare. I stumble toward the creek bed and she speaks again, “Hello?” I respond with a water ripple. 

“Hello, I’m here.” Speaking is useless, but I whisper under my breath anyway. 

“Are you the same…thing I was talking to a few weeks ago?” The water slowly turns a gold shimmer and she grins. “Can I ask you some questions?” The gold gets stronger. “Gold means yes?” The shimmer holds steady. “Am I speaking with the water?” I make it turn a deep, murky teal. “Does that mean no?” Gold. “A witch?” Teal. “A ghost?” Teal again. “An angel?” Teal. “A faerie?” 

Gold shimmer. I whisper, “Yes, yes,” proud of her for getting it. 

“A faerie?” She asks excitedly and I celebrate with her in the form of a water ripple. “Oh wow,” she whispers. “So you can hear me?” Gold. “Can you see me?” Ah, what do I do now? I can’t quite see her yet, but I definitely can see more of her than she can of me.

“Grey?” She’s silent for a moment, humming as she tries to understand. “You don’t know if you can see me?” Teal. “You can kinda see me?” Gold. “I can’t see you at all,” she mumbles. She looks up again, unsure where to look. “Did you know that?” It stays gold while she chuckles to herself. The sound of it is intoxicating—like the sound of leaves rustling in the wind or a bird chirping. It warms me from the inside out. 

“Where are you?” She asks. The current splits into two, flowing against each other and converging in a point aimed directly at me. As she follows the arrow with her eyes to look at me, her cloud clears fully and I can finally see her. For real this time. There’s still that angelic glow that won’t go away until the Veils have been lifted but I’m not so sure I’d want it to go away anyway. She’s absolutely, positively stunning. My breath is taken away. Her smile reaches her eyes and there’s something in her mouth—something I’ve never seen before, shiny and on every tooth. 

Her body curves and moves gloriously and she looks irresistibly soft and…sexy. And I don’t use that word often. I want to hold her, touch her, squeeze her, make her feel something, but she can’t even see me. Even if I tried, my touch would be nothing but the whisper of a ghost. 

Glancing down, her eyebrows furrow in confusion. She asks, “What does pink mean?” I shake my head to rid my thoughts of her and the water returns to its natural, clear, blue state. 

There’s a beat of silence. She awkwardly speaks up, “So, a faerie, huh?” Slowly, the calm pool turns gold again. “I’ve got some books about the Fae.” Bubbles rise in curiosity. “Are you a human-sized faerie?” Gold. 

“I think I may be a bit taller than you, though…” I whisper. I’m taller than most everyone in my village, so I can only assume I’m taller than her as well. 

“A lot of these books say you all hate humans,” she says matter-of-factly. 

The water turns a deep, angry red. “That’s a misconception!” I say with a grumpy giggle. Although, she’s not totally wrong. Most other faeries I know do hate humans, I suppose. I’m not sure why, though—they’re so sweet and cute. Us faeries tend to have a superiority complex. But that doesn’t mean we all have it out for the entirety of the human race. 

“Oh,” she says, holding her hands up. “Sorry.” I forgot she can’t hear me, so the water calms itself. “Do you hate humans?” I can’t make it teal fast enough. 

We spend hours in our woodland dell together—she watches as I make the water change colors, as I make flowers bloom in patterns, and as I talk with rabbits, asking them to bring me back berries and nuts. The way her eyes light up when I make the peonies bloom makes me feel like nothing else matters. I’d sit here for hours, building and blooming the garden of her dreams if I could—just to make her happy. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” She asks, sitting next to me on the creekbank now that we’re on the same side. The water constantly follows me to show her my location. 

“Of course,” I respond under my breath, hoping something might leak through into her realm. 

“Coming out here and talking to you…” she sighs. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy.” She chuckles. “Like, what would someone think if they saw me giggling at the water?” I wish I could shatter the wall blocking her realm from mine, dissolving any of that hesitancy and uncertainty. “But it makes me feel sane. It’s the only time I feel like my world isn’t falling apart.” 

She’s told me all about her world—a stressful job, family problems, and constant crippling anxiety. I can’t imagine living in a world like hers. Humans fascinate me, yes, but I avoid the world they’ve created at all costs—booming cities absent from flora and fauna, no magic, lifeless but overwhelming at the same time. 

“That’s a new one,” she says, glancing down at the water. When she looks back up, guessing where my eyes are, she asks, “What does silver mean?”

“I’m sad,” I whisper. Almost at the exact same time, like we’re connected at the heart, we say,

“I wish you could hear me.”“I wish I could hear you.” 

As she fiddles with the green moss under her legs the water slowly turns a gold shimmer. I want that too. I want to talk to her, to feel her, hug her, kiss her. I want to be hers, to protect her from all that pain in her world. But my heart drops, the water steadily turning a sad silver again. I could never be that for her. 

“Why can’t I see you?” She asks, sadness laced in her voice. I conjure a gentle wind, making one of her books fly open, flipping to a page titled, The Fae and Humans: Perception and Interaction. Her head snaps toward the sound, curiosity pulling her closer. Slowly, she crouches and reads aloud, “There is an intricate balance of aural, visibility, touch, and the altered states required to bridge the divide between the Fae and human realms. Understanding the two key thresholds—The Veil of Sight and Sound and the Veil of Touch—are crucial when communicating with the Fae. 

“The Veil of Sight and Sound: Faeries exist on a frequency of reality imperceptible to humans. Under normal conditions, human vision and hearing cannot penetrate this Veil; however, certain factors can alter a human's perceptual capabilities. Mild intoxication induced by substances can create a temporary overlap between the human and faerie realms. In this state, humans can see and hear faeries in their true forms. 

“The Veil of Touch: Even when humans achieve the rare ability to see and hear faeries, the Veil of Touch presents a further barrier. While perception might align momentarily, the physical matter of faeries and humans does not naturally interact. For touch to occur, a human must enter a deeper altered state—one that further detaches them from their own plane.” 

Taking everything in, her lips barely move when she whispers, “Intoxication?” The water points toward a ring of mushrooms nestled at the edge of the creek. Each one has a delicate pearly white cap with faint iridescent streaks that catch the light like oil on water. The ring itself isn’t perfect; they grow unevenly, edges blending with soft moss and fallen leaves. They look relatively ordinary, but those iridescent streaks tell me they’re undeniably veil lanterns, a substance that lifts both veils for humans. Moving closer to the ring of mushrooms, she asks, “If I eat one of these, I’ll be able to see and hear you?” Gold shimmer. “How does it make me feel?” 

How do I put this? I make the water swirl in on itself in different directions while it turns different shades of blue and green. It spirals upward into a sphere that hovers for a moment before gracefully falling back to the creek. 

“Like I’m floating?” She asks curiously. Gold shimmer. She looks back at the mushrooms, her expression torn between hope and hesitation. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” she says softly, but her hand doesn’t move closer. Eventually, though, she plucks one out of the ground, holding it between her pointer finger and thumb, twirling it between her fingers. “Just one?”

“Just one,” I whisper under my breath as the water turns gold. Popping it in her mouth, I watch the soft aura that still surrounds her physical form turn a pretty relaxed yellow over the course of a few minutes. She talks to me as she lets the mushroom settle in—asking how long it’ll take or what happens if it doesn’t work.

“What if I’ve been making all this up in my head?” She chuckles to herself. “And I’ve been talking to a creek this whole time? How embarrassing would that be?” She rubs her hands over her face, groaning. “I can’t believe this,” she grumbles, curling into herself, her knees pulled tight to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Resting her chin on her knees, she closes her eyes and mutters, “Thinking a creek is talking to me…”

“That does sound a little silly,” I say, my voice light with amusement. 

Her gasp breaks the quiet as her eyes fly open, and for the first time, she sees me. The realization washes over her in waves—hesitation, awe, and then a dawning understanding.  

“Hello,” I say softly, letting her take me in, her eyes tracing over my entire body.

“Hi,” she breathes. “Where are your wings?” That’s an unexpected first question. Smiling, I unfold them, letting them catch the sunlight. Iridescent hues of pink and purple shimmer like liquid light. The intricate patterns etched into the delicate surface that scatter rainbows onto the ground below. 

“Wow…” she whispers in disbelief. She reaches out slowly, her fingertips trembling as they near me. But her hand passes straight through, our realms still worlds apart. Confusion clouds her face and her glassy eyes blink with disappointment. 

I shake my head and remind her, “The Veil of Touch, remember?”

“Oh, I need to have another mushroom?” I nod. She hurriedly reaches for one.

“Wait.” She halts and looks up at me. “You should take it easy with those. Let’s just talk. I’ve been dying for you to hear my voice.”

“That’s true.” She looks over at the water, then glances back up at me. “You’re so…pretty,” she says. “What’s your name?” 

“Soobin.” Then she tells me her name. “We can have conversations much easier now, huh?” I smile. 

With the Veil lifted, we spend the hour learning all we can about each other—her favorite color isn’t just yellow, it’s turmeric. She loves how it looks when she puts a teaspoon of it in her rice cooker and it spreads throughout the water. Her favorite flower is a poinsettia because her mother used to line the front porch with them during a winter holiday called Christmas. Those things on her teeth are called braces and they’re supposed to help her teeth somehow. She hates celery and loves broccoli, especially if they’re roasted in an oven. That scar on her cheek is from learning something called skateboarding. She loves the rain but is terrified of thunder. She hates how loud her laugh is, though it's my favorite sound. 

She worries about being too much and not enough all at once. 

As we talk, I can’t tell how much time we have left. I can tell I’m fading from her view but she never fades from mine. Her laughter grows quieter, her giggles becoming rare until they’re gone altogether. Her high is wearing off, and with it, the fragile connection we share. I can feel her pulling back, closing herself off again, like the gentle drift of someone falling asleep without realizing it.

Her eyes stay on me, intense and unblinking, memorizing every detail of my face to hold onto me for just a moment longer. Then I see it, the shift in her expression. Realization dawns like a shadow passing over her, her gaze losing focus.  

“I can’t see you anymore,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with resignation. She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “You’re gone again.”  

-

“Are you sure you’re ready?” I ask, my voice soft but steady. Over the years, I’ve forged fragile connections with humans, always careful never to push too hard. Yet no matter how gentle I am, the same thing happens—they see too much, fear too much, and never return. And I don’t blame them. It’s utterly overwhelming. There’s no denying that. 

But she’s been visiting me for months and I’ve never been this close to anyone. With her, the world feels sharper, more vivid. Every time she speaks, her words resonate with something deep inside me, as if they echo through places I’ve forgotten even existed. 

She occupies my every waking moment. I’ve started to feel her even when she’s not here—her absence pressing against me like a quiet storm, a warmth that lingers in the air long after she’s gone. Her voice echoes in my mind when it’s silent. Every time our eyes meet, there’s that spark, that electric connection that tells me we’re on the cusp of something extraordinary. 

We’ve talked about taking the next step so many times now. But it’s a huge step. It’s about stepping into a new reality, about making something impossible real. 

She nods, her eyes bright with determination. “I’m sure.”  

She picks up the mushroom, turning it over in her hands as though its surface might help her validate her decision. Then, with a shaky breath, she sets it back down, her resolve wavering. “What if this isn’t real?” she whispers, her gaze fixed on her trembling fingers. “What if I’ve just been…hallucinating all of this?”  

“You’re not hallucinating,” I say gently.

She hugs her knees to her chest, biting her lip. “But what if I am? And if I eat another one, I just sink deeper into this… dream? Or illusion? Or whatever this is.”  

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” I assure her, leaning closer.  

She lifts her head slightly, her expression torn. “But if I need these just to talk to you…” Her voice falters. “Doesn’t that mean I’ll always be dependent on them?”  

I meet her gaze, steady and unwavering. “You’re already talking to me,” I say. “You don’t need another one to keep doing that.”  

Her breath catches, and for a moment, silence hangs between us. Then she speaks again, “But I can’t touch you.” Her eyes glisten, her vulnerability shining through. “And I want to.”  

Something in me stirs—sharp and undeniable. My chest tightens, my voice trembling, “I want that too.” 

She sighs my name, and it feels like the world is tilting. Her cheeks flush as she hesitates. “I want to…maybe it’s the mushroom talking,” she says quickly, her words tumbling out, “but I want you. I want you to kiss me and hold me and make me feel—”  

“I want all of that too,” I interrupt, my voice low and earnest. “But only if you’re ready.”  

Her shoulders sag slightly, her head tilting as she stares at the ground. “But it’ll never be truly real, though, will it?”

“It’s real,” I say softly. “Maybe not in the way we want it to be—but real enough to feel.” Nodding, she takes several seconds to think, picking at the green moss as a distraction. “What if I ate one too?”

“Would it even affect you?” 

I nod and add, “It gives me a high, but nothing…magical happens.” We both agree to eat one, giggling and talking while we let them both set in. 

“I’m not feeling much different, to be honest,” she says, her voice faltering. “I’m starting to think none of this is real. I’m just… seeing you, but you’re not really there.” Her hand lifts, a trembling finger reaching toward my cheek.

Then it happens.

The moment her skin touches mine, a spark—soft, warm, and undeniable—flares between us. She gasps, jerking her hand back as though it's been burned. But before the space between us can grow too wide, she reaches out again, her palm settling against my cheek, her thumb brushing over the curve with a tentative tenderness.

Her touch anchors me, and for a moment, I can’t speak.

“…Soobin,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re there. You’re really there.”

“I know,” I say, chuckling. “I’m really here. Watch this.” I reach out, dragging my fingertips over her forearm. She gasps again, yanking her hand back. “Are you okay?” I ask, concern flickering in my voice. She nods, slowly and deliberately moving her hand forward. Then, she runs her fingers through my hair and glides them down my shoulder and arm, leaving a shiver in their wake.

“Can I…your wings?” she asks, her voice filled with awe. I let them unfold just enough for her to see. Her breath hitches as she reaches out, the tip of her pointer finger brushing against the delicate edge of one wing. It flutters instinctively at her touch, responding to her presence, which spooks her a bit. 

“It’s okay,” I murmur, watching her hand. 

Encouraged and confident, she places her hand fully on top of my wing, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns as though committing every curve and shimmer to memory.

“Wow…that’s unreal,” she says. “I mean, it’s real, but doesn’t seem like it should be.” She inches closer, the space between us dissolving until our knees barely touch. Her fingers run down my arm lightly before picking up my hand, examining it closely, her thumb tracing the lines of my palm, the curve of my fingers. Then, I mirror her actions, taking her hand in mine. It’s warm, human, and yet so fragile under my touch. 

Her hand travels upward to trace my features with her thumb. She lingers over the arch of my eyebrow, down the bridge of my nose, along the edge of my jaw. When she reaches my lips, her thumb pauses, grazing over the softness of my bottom lip. A breath escapes me, unbidden, and her touch slows, her thumb resting there for just a moment longer before she withdraws, her hand trembling slightly as it falls back into her lap.

I respond, my thumb swiping across her bottom lip and I tug her closer by her jaw until I can feel her breath on my chin. 

“Can I kiss you?” I whisper. 

She nods. 

Our lips fall into one another and move over each other so beautifully—it beats out rainbows and peonies, the sound of water falling, the smell of peppermint leaves. It’s a paradox, making everything else feel insignificant yet illuminating the meaning of it all in the same breath.

It deepens and I hover over her, her legs coming out from under her while I guide her to lay down on the mossy patch, our lips never parting. Her lips feel so magical and soft and we only stop when she needs to come up for air. We smile at each other, our eyes sharing the same redness and glassy daze. I know exactly what I want to happen next, but I’m not so sure she’s ready for all that. I look at her, taking in all her beauty. 

“You’re gorgeous,” I tell her.

“So are you,” she slurs. She reaches for my hand that’s already resting on her hip and moves it up to her chest, encouraging me to feel all of her. 

I whisper her name and ask, “Are you sure you want this?” 

“Please.” My lips crash into hers again and our hands are all over each other, on each other’s bodies, in each other’s hair, squeezing and squishing and feeling and rubbing. She breaks the kiss, “Have you ever done this before? You know, with a human?”

“Not with a human,” I chuckle. “But all the anatomy’s the same.” 

“That’s good,” she giggles, grabbing my hair to kiss me again, but she’s quick to pull back. “Go slow, okay?” I nod. With a snap of my fingers, flowers swirl together, carried by a gentle breeze, forming a soft pillow for her to rest her head on. “Ah, thank you. I forgot you can do stuff like that.” Lifting the skirt of her dress up, I slowly move it past her thighs and she asks with a trembling voice, “Will people see us?” 

I shake my head, telling her, “I cast a shadow cloak around us. No one can see us. Not even the other fae.” A look of relief and content falls across her face. “Can I…?” I ask, lifting her dress more. She nods. With each passing inch, my heart thumps as I drag my fingertips over her legs. Lifting it over her head, she’s laying under me, mostly bare. She’s still wearing two tiny pieces of fabric that cover her chest and bottom. 

“I wore these for you,” she says, her voice soft and tinged with a shyness she can’t quite hide. The veil lanterns must’ve loosened her lips.

“You did?” My hands explore her curves, reverent and curious, tracing every inch of her body. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Thank you.” Her skin is soft and inviting under my lips, and I scatter kisses lower, her body responding perfectly with mine. But then, I can’t hide my fascination any longer. I pause, my thumb brushing over the delicate pink fabric that’s still on her body. How do I put this? Ah, let’s just be candid. “What is this?”  

“What do you mean?”  

“These,” I say, running my fingers along the straps and edges of the fabric. “I’ve never seen clothes like this before.”

“Oh,” she giggles, tugging gently at one of the straps. “This is a bra. And these,” she gestures to the sides of the fabric on her hips, “are panties.” I hum thoughtfully, studying her with an amused tilt of my head. 

“We don’t wear things like this. What’s the point of them?”  

Her lips curve into a playful smile. “Look at me.” And I do. She’s delicious. “That’s the point.”  

I smirk, my gaze lingering on her. “Am I—are you—supposed to take them off?”  

“Yes,” she says, her voice catching just slightly, her flush deepening. My fingers brush over the fabric again, savoring the contrast between it and her skin. “Do you not like them?” she asks, her tone almost teasing.  

“No, I do,” I reply, my voice dipping lower. “I have a feeling I’ll like your body even more.” I start to try and pull them off, but—

“Not yet,” she sighs. “Come here.” I sit up and she follows, her hand drifting to my top button. Slowly, she unfastens it, the slinky pink velvet slipping through her fingers with each deliberate motion. Once she pushes my shirt past my shoulders, I tug at the cuffs to free my arms. Her gaze stays locked on me as I fold my wings down, the delicate motion allowing me to slip the shirt off completely.

Extending her arm out, the tip of her middle finger barely touches my chest before she jerks her hand back, still not believing I’m tangible. Then she lets her hand fully press my body, dragging down to my waist. I remember how much my wings fascinate her, so I unfold them for her and she gasps. 

Leaning closer, our lips fall into each other and I guide her to lay down again just the same as before. My thumb drags across the apple of her cheek, trailed by my pointer finger down column of her neck, following a line between her breasts, down to squeeze her waist. Holding her bra strap between my pointer and middle finger, I slowly pull it down, leaving kisses along the way and hoping I’m doing this whole bra-and-panties thing correctly. Then I do the same with the other side, watching as she effortlessly reaches behind her, making something snap so it falls off her chest, hanging loosely. She pulls it off herself, although I think I’m supposed to be the one that does that. Next time.  

Looking down at her bare chest, I can’t help but feel giddy. The way her chest curves on itself, creating a gorgeous shape I desperately need to feel. 

“I love these,” I say, kissing the side of her breast. She hums in question. And I nudge the marks on her skin with the tip of my nose. “These,” I say. 

Her gaze follows mine as she glances down and asks, “Oh, my stretch marks?” 

“We call them life lace.”

Her expression softens, her eyes meeting mine. “Life lace,” she repeats quietly, as if testing the words, a touch of wonder in her voice. I search and scour for every bit I can find—the most of it on her tummy, hips, and thighs. She’s still got that last bit of clothing around her hips she hasn’t taken off yet. That final barrier between us. We’ve knocked every other barrier down but something about this last one feels utterly real in a way the others didn’t. 

Wrapping my hands around her thighs, I pull her gently so her legs wrap around my ears gently, shoving my face into her center over that last bit of clothing, inhaling. I’ve never been this close to a human before. She smells so different from the fae I’ve been with. She’s intoxicating and delightful—my mouth waters at how delicious she smells. 

“I take this off, too?” I nudge at her entrance, earning a jolt. I must’ve nudged something sensitive. She nods eagerly, helping me take them off her. 

“You too,” she reminds me and I shuffle to get rid of the rest of my clothes. Looking down at her, she’s giddy and completely entranced, which twinges my heart. It’s just the veil lanterns, the cynical part of me reminds myself. Her legs are casually spread open, giving me a full display of her glistening pussy. I skate my hands up her legs, feeling her ground herself in the feeling of my hands. 

Teasing her entrance with my thumb, she’s hot and wet as she flutters around nothing, waiting for anything from me. I gather just enough of her wetness to make my pointer finger slick and tap her clit, making her flinch. Then, I rub the slowest, lightest circles over the nub and she lets out a ragged sigh. Her tightened muscles relax as she allows herself to feel every move I’m making, letting her head gently fall to the pillow of flowers. 

Once she’s practically dripping, I slide my two middle fingers inside her, curling them to tease the most sensitive bit with the pads of them. Bending, I flick my pointed tongue against her clit, eliciting a whine while she desperately reaches for my hair. I’ve never tasted a human either, I realize. I’m not sure anything will ever be as delicious as her again. 

“Oh my god,” she whimpers. Every sound she makes is gorgeous but I can’t wait to hear what she sounds like when she comes. I bet it's the most beautiful in the world. “W—wait…” she trails off, her hip thrusts betraying her words. “Soobin, wait—” she gasps. This time, I stop. Gently wrapping her hand around the back of my neck to pull me closer. “I want you…all of you, please.” 

I take the time to memorize what her face looks like, how her hair is splayed out against the flowers, how kissable her lips look. And I don’t resist them. Pressing my lips to hers again, they mould into each other like we should’ve never been apart in the first place. She tries to place her hands on my back, stumbling as she realizes my wings are in the way, which rustle in response. Instead, she rests them on my waist, squeezing delicately. 

We hesitantly part so I can sit up on my knees. This time, I take the time to memorize everything about her body—her stomach rolls folding from holding her legs open, the life lace at the tops of her thighs, the swell of her ass squished by the ground. Everything is absolute, utter perfection. 

Slowly gracing my hands to follow the curve of her waist then down to her thighs and hips, little bumps cover her skin. I forget what humans call them. Finding her clit with my thumb again, I rub agonizingly slow circles, forcing her hips to roll involuntarily. Barely prodding her entrance with my cock, I watch her shiver and whine, quickly getting impatient. When I back off, her pelvis bucks, her body begging for me on its own. 

Aligning myself at her pussy again, I push myself in, only letting myself about halfway inside her but she still takes my breath away. Just as she’s about to let out a sigh of relief, I pull out of her again. 

“Stop…” she whines. “Stop teasing me so much.” I chuckle with her—I guess I should get to the good stuff. “Please…please stop teasing me so much.” 

I concede and when I’m finally fully inside her, everything feels so…much. It’s all so much. I feel like I’ve never felt before, like nothing has ever had any impact before her, like nothing will ever feel as good until we’re together again. I bend at my waist, supporting myself with my elbows around her face and her eyes flutter shut.

“Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” I say. “We don’t have much time.” 

When she opens her eyes and looks into mine, still nothing matters—not that she can’t see me without the veil lanterns, not that I could disappear from her view any minute, not that we could never truly be together. The way she feels overshadows all of that. 

We don’t have much time, I remind myself. I sink deeper inside her, digging my face into her neck.

“Look at me,” she reminds me and I follow her instructions. We find a rhythm we both like, desperately thrusting in and out of her. “Kiss me…kiss me please,” she whispers. Our lips meet furiously as my hips dig into hers. “I need to feel you as much as I can,” she says. “Before I can’t anymore.” Resting her arms against my lower back—right below my wings—she squeezes around me, rubbing her hands up and down my waist. Delicately and hesitantly, she slides her hands up, letting her hands rest gently where my wings meet my skin. 

There’s a vulnerability to it I wasn’t expecting. It’s not something I’ve thought about before—no one’s ever touched me like that there before, not even another faerie. My breath catches when her fingers trace the delicate ridge where my wings connect to my body. I shudder, the sensation overwhelming and pleasant. Her eyes widen, searching mine, unsure if she’s crossed a line. 

“Is this okay?” she asks softly, her voice trembling.

I press my forehead to hers, nodding. “It’s okay,” I respond. “More than okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she says, her thumbs brushing lightly against the base of my wings.

“You won’t,” I promise, though my voice is raw, barely audible. “You couldn’t.”

Her lips find mine again, gentler this time, like her touch softened the urgency between us. The rhythm slows, turning into something deeper, more deliberate. Her hands never stray far from my wings and the trust in her touch makes my chest ache in the best way. In this moment, she sees me—not just with her eyes, but as someone she wants to hold onto, even when she knows she can’t forever.

“You feel,” she gasps. “I can’t—”

“I know, baby…” I sigh. “I know.” I silence her whimpers with my mouth, swallowing any whines that escape past her lips. I argue with myself trying to decide if I should close my eyes to savor how she feels, never leaving her lips or if I should keep them open to make sure I commit the sight of her underneath me to memory. Either way is a win for me to be fair. 

Breaking the kiss, I trail my lips all over her body, tasting every inch of her. She’s nothing like anyone I’ve ever tasted before, slightly salty and warm against my tongue, different from the typical sweetness of other faeries. Every time I press my lips to her, I kiss away a hardship. I kiss away the stress in her shoulders, kiss away the problems she faces in her day-to-day life, kiss away any anxieties she feels. I’m desperate to make her feel good, to remind her that none of that matters here. With me. 

When I flick my tongue over her nipple, her back arches, a gasp following her movements. I keep my thrusts steady, feeling her release building up in her stomach. I watch as her tummy muscles tighten then she desperately reaches for my hair, pulling me closer so our bodies are pressed together again. Her arms are wrapped around my torso and I can feel her clenching around me, teetering on the edge of something incredible. 

“Soobin—” she gasps. “Don’t—” Her back arches. “Hmm…I’m close,” she says, a smile evident in her voice. “Please, please…” I don’t think she even knows what she’s begging for anymore. Begging for anything—my cock, my hands, my lips, a release. 

Then, her nails dig into my lower back as she bites my shoulder, groaning loudly against my skin as she comes around my cock, pussy pulsating around me as she whimpers and whines through it. 

“Oh my god,” she pants and just as she starts to twitch from overstimulation, I slow my movements, peppering her neck and face with kisses. She catches her breath, whispering incoherent things in my ears, things like my name, swears, giggles. 

“Use me,” she whispers. I hum in question. “Use me to make yourself feel good.” I lift her legs, pressing them toward her chest, letting me reach the deepest parts of her. And everything about her feels incredible. Pounding into her quickly, I squeeze one of her tits with one hand and use the other to hold her waist in place. 

It doesn’t take long for something inside me to twist and turn, begging to be snapped so I can fill her up. My stomach ties itself into too many knots as a white hot fire burns in the pit of it. The noises she’s making adds fuel to the fire, burning and burning until I can’t hold back anymore. With a few final thrusts, everything inside me breaks, like it’s all been building until this moment. I make a conscious effort to take my time and feel everything, thinking about how her pussy feels wrapped around my cock, how her tit feels in my hand, what she smells like, what she looks like. Everything is magic. 

As I catch my breath, I pull out of her so slowly she shivers and I watch as my cum spills out of her while she giggles bashfully. I panic as I realize I didn’t prepare to clean up. Why didn’t I prepare for clean-up? She finds that little piece of fabric she was wearing earlier—what was it called again?—and uses them to wipe herself clean before folding them meticulously to store in her bag. 

“How are you feeling?” I ask. 

“Eh…” she hums. …Eh? “Just kinda bittersweet is all, you know?” I shake my head in disappointment. “No, no!” She runs her fingers through my hair, looking at me sweetly. “That was amazing.” She kisses me deeply. “I should’ve started with that. I’m sorry.” 

“You swear?”

“Of course,” she sighs. “That was incredible. It’s just…”

“I know,” I say. “How much time do we have left, you think?” Averting her eyes from mine, she looks down to fiddle with her thumbs. 

“You’re already starting to fade.” 

“Then look at me,” I say, taking her hands in mine. “Look at me until you can’t anymore.” She chuckles, bringing her eyes up to meet mine. We stare at each other, running our hands over each other’s bodies until we’ll no longer be able to feel the other. Once the Veil of Touch separates our hands again, we hesitantly get dressed during the last few minutes before the Veil of Sight and Sound completely separates us. She pulls her dress back over her head, closing off my view from her. 

We sit again, facing toward each other, anxiously waiting until I fade from her view. Tears pool in the corners of her eyes. I start to reach for her, until I remember I can’t touch her. 

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Soobin,” she sniffles. I scoot closer to her. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I can do this,” she gestures between us. “Only seeing you when I’m on some kind of high from those mushrooms? This would never work. I can’t just…not see or hear you when I’m sober. I can’t—this isn’t—” Her words puncture my lungs and I can’t breathe. The ache in her voice echoes into my chest and I hate these fucking Veils. What’s the point in them anyway? Can’t they be destroyed?

“Don’t say that,” I plead.

She shakes her head, tears spilling over as she wipes at her cheeks with trembling hands. “I can’t keep falling deeper for you, only to lose you every time the spell fades. It’s breaking me apart.”

My throat tightens. “You’re not losing me. I’ll always be here. Always. I promise.”

“But I won’t really be here, will I?” she says, her voice cracking. “I won’t ever be in the right state of mind when we’re together.”

Her words hang heavy in the air and all I can hear is the soft babble of the creek. I try to reach for her again, forgetting again I can’t. My hand hovers uselessly in the air before falling back to my side.

“There has to be another way,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice. “Something we haven’t tried. A way to get rid of them so we can be together.” She looks at me, her expression a mixture of longing and heartbreak. 

“And if there isn’t? What then? Do we keep doing this forever?”

Leaning closer, I say, “You’re worth it.”

Her face crumples, and she presses her hands to her face as if to shield herself from my words. “Soobin, I—” I know the edges of her vision are starting to blur, the Veil is about to take me from her. Again. “Don’t go,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say. “Not really. I’ll always be here. Waiting.” And then I know I’m gone by the sound of her cries. I turn the water a rich, warm shade of yellow with deep golden and earthy undertones—turmeric—so she knows I’m still there with her. She stands slowly, turns and starts to walk away but stops a few steps in, she looks back, somehow right into my eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

[risu442]

Jeff Satur in his own Words - #Legend interview

Q: Are they any ongoing projects or creative works you're focusing on right now?

J: These days it's mostly festivals. I also have a show coming soon and there'll be an EP in english as well as new songs. This year I'm focusing quite a lot on music. Last year the work was very varied. This year there also will be concerts. Towards the end of the year I'll be producing a series called "Happy ending".

Q: Is there a song of yours that you feel especially connected to?

J: If I had to pick a song that feels like the origin of many things it would be "Why don't you stay". It marked the beginning of a journey, a spark that unexpectedly set many things in motion. Back then after exploring various carreers I returned to acting full-on. People forgot that I was once a singer 10 years ago, things like that. That song brought back my identity as a singer and reminded people "Oh, this is that Jeff Satur".

Q: Your music videos often carry hidden messages. How involved are you in the creation of your music videos?

J: I'd recommend watching my latest music video 'Ride or Die'. It was one of the most exhausting shoots I've ever done. You'll see why once it's out. Recently, I've been listening a lot of Elvis\laufey along with jazz, blues and soul with old-school vibes. It makes me feel refreshing and breath easier. (Thanks for answering but not the question- Risu)

Q: Do you have any plans to release an international album in the future?

J: I've been working on songs with a producer in Sweden and there are quite a few we've written. The opening track for the EP, in English is Ride or Die. Ride or Die is like a bird without legs - it has to keep flying because stopping means death. The song is faster than anything I've done before. Most of my tracks are slow or mid-tempo, this one is truly upbeat. I think it's going to be so much fun to perform live and hope everyone will rock out of the hook.

Q: We've noticed that your concertfashion is always fun and fancy. Where do the ideas behind these looks come from?

J: Usually, I just wear what I bought that day because there's no choice. Just kidding. I want every show I perform whether it's the setlist or the performance itself to be unique, not just the same show repeated over and over. I don't see it as simply playing a concert or anything like that. For me it's about creating a fresh show everytime. Even outfits, like, what will I wear today? Things like that. It's the fun in deciding wheter tomorrow I want to wear the same kind of clothes or stay in my comfortzone. Honestly, I'm a person who get bored easily. Even with the setlist. So I always want to make it diffrent and unique. For each show I gather references and brief the team. For instance, if I perform in the North, I want to incorporate elements that reflect the North region, add it as a gimmick while staying true to myself.

Q: If you could collaborate with any artist in the world, who would it be?

J: I'd like to work with Elvis though he is no longer with us, but truly still willing to work with him. His comeback era is so inspiring, it's magical. Singing alongside him would have been incredible and a huge experience for me.

Q: Your song 'Rain Wedding' has recived great feedback. Could you share a bit about the creative process behind this song?

J: Actually the song 'Rain Wedding' something I wrote a long time ago. I had told my fans, 'Khun Wan-sao' - You know, there's going to be a song about a wedding, about the rain. That's how it started before evolving into the version you hear now. I completly reworked it, keeping only the chords and the first verse. I deconstructed the song delving into the lyrics along with recapture that feeling of 'Thongkham' and bring them back into the song then wave it into the melody. This song, I collaborated with khun Vivi who's both a songwriter and a writer. Then, her skill is truly brings an added elegance to the song. Then, I incorporated my own elements, tweaking certain parts and adding new ones. I remember that the phrase 'Hug Jao Lai' was there from the demo version. It just came out naturally. So was 'Yam Muea Fon The Long Ma' which has been part of the song since the very beginning, which I produced it, naturally. These became signature lines that I kept intact. The whole process was incredibly fun! And it's incredible how many people have gone to see the movie and shared their thoughts, saying: "Wow, it feels completly diffrent!". Watching it changed the meaning of the song entirely. It's reached a point where people watch the film just to discover how the song's meaning evolves. Initially, it's a love song, but later it becomes... something else.

Q: As someone who has overcome challenges: What advice would you give to those still searching for themselves?

J: The diffrence lies in self-awerness, I belive. Often we live under pressure without realising it, pressured by our own expectation and the others'. It's a normal part of life no matter the profession. But the moment we become aware of it we free ourselves from the unspoken rules of life. That awerness allows us to move forward without constantly worrying about whether something is "good enough" for this person or that person. Sometimes we forget that the most important thing to focus in life is whether we, ourselves are happy with what we've done. Success is fine, it's how society defines who has "made it" and who hasn't. But it's not necessary for us to strive to meet those. It's just life, and the question is: Do we enjoy what we're doing? No one can hold onto a throphy forever, at some point, we all have to set it down. So enjoy success and enjoy failure as well. In the end success and failure don't really exist. What remains is simply whether we loved and found happiness in it.

Q: Who is your #Legend?

J: It's still Elvis for me. He continues to inspire me deeply such as how he performed on stage. I watch his performances repeatedly and it's not just about singing or acting. He poured his souls into his shows. Even if I didn't understand any about music but I belive I still feel the spirit he conveyed without the need of knowledge to understand. That's what we, as artists need to preserve. I'm working in an industry driven by a huge amount of trends. The best thing we can do is not let those trends control us. Staying true to who we are and creating art that genuinely represents us is vital. That's what Elvis taught me, learning from mistakes and be the real artist that truly communicate to audiences, with heart.

Q: Could you tell us about 'Khun Wan-Sao'? Could you share a memorable story involving your fans?

J: Hmm, what truly impressed me is seeing Khun Wan-Sao and other fans following us to diffrent places even to provinces I'd never been to before. I aimed to visit all four regions of Thailand seeking festivals that truly represents each regions. Sometimes, I confuse about the names like Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, but still want to reach every part of the country. What's heartwarming is people came sang along our songs and some even showed up just to hear us perform. That's incredibly touching and it's moment that reminds me why I wanted to be a singer. And it's because of the privilege given to connect with fans from all over.

[bredforloyalty]

someone in the comments saying that it's obviously gonna resonate more (emotionally) if the guy who wrote it is singing it

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Ivy through the lens of Morgwen

How's one to know? I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones In a faith forgotten land

Ok this makes me think of when they meet in the woods in season 5 they meet in a place where so many have died and by being there even somewhat against her will Guinevere has betrayed Arthur’s faith in her.

In from the snow Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow Tarnished but so grand

They are the light of each others life and bring forth strong emotions (the two meanings of incandescent). It becomes a tarnished love though because after Morgause’s influence and the subsequent betrayal Morgana they no longer can hold each other as they once did. Or you can argue that according to Uther their love would have always been tarnished as to be with a servant would detract from the value of Morgana. Either way though their love had been grand.

And the old widow goes to the stone every day. But I don't, I just sit here and wait Grieving for the living

After Morgana’s betrayal Guinevere lost her love but there is no grave to visit and in a way she’s forever left waiting. Similarily Morgana is the the same way except she has more belief that Gwen could come to her side.

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. Taking mine, but it's been promised to another.

The loved one tries to take some of the pain they hold it in their hand, but the wording of a freezing hand is amazing because that can often be something uncomfortable so that can mean though they try to help the other they cause them discomfort instead. In a way they can both fit this role never really being able to create what the other needs. Morgana as the kings ward (and daughter though people don’t know that) was likely intended to be married off to someone and Guinevere was destined to marry Arthur but yet they take each others hands.

Oh, I can't. Stop you putting roots in my dreamland. My house of stone, your ivy grows. And now I'm covered in you

They cling to each other. They love each other so much but they are destroying each others plans. Guinevere can never get that soft life she’d dreamed they might have as Morgana won’t let go of her bitterness and realize better plans and Morgana can’t convince Guinevere to join her side of the fight as she cares for many people in Camelot

I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed

They both wish to know what makes the other wish to be with them despite never getting to truly be together. Well they both love each other it is a curse to be forced to hide it. Also brings to mind Morgana’s magic it could be considered a curse and Gwen as most people in Camelot don’t understand that it’s not always a choice so she would wonder why she decided to take on magic.

He's in the room. Your opal eyes are all I wish to see. He wants what's only yours

You could describe Morgana’s eyes as Opal as like Opals Morgana’s eyes can appear Blue or Green and even Gold (Opals have even more colors but Morgana’s eyes are limited to that)

Clover blooms in the fields Spring breaks loose, the time is near What would he do if he found us out? Crescent moon, coast is clear Spring breaks loose, but so does fear He's gonna burn this house to the ground

I know on the original context him is the woman’s husband but in this analysis it’s Uther because he’s far more filled with rage. We have seen in the show that he has no care for servants and those his children cares for. He would kill them without hesitation. Arthur doesn’t have that same cruel anger even if Morgana and Guinevere had been together when Gwen and him got married.

How's one to know? I'd live and die for moments that we stole On begged and borrowed time

They were truly in love with each other. It started out sweet and innocent even though it was a secret due to how society would view their relationship. But it was borrowed time, they were destined to be torn apart.

So tell me to run Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become And drink my husband's wine

Morgana gave Guinevere an out when she rose to power, Guinevere could join her side or even just sit on the sidelines and no harm would come to her. But they had to become something they never wanted to be. Torn apart and turned against each other.

And I'm covered in you So yeah, it's a fire It's a goddamn blaze in the dark And you started it You started it So yeah, it's a war It's the goddamn fight of my life And you started it You started it

They are on an opposite sides of a fight and it was Morgana who started it. Had things gone differently Morgana and Merlin’s could have stayed friends and brought back magic together and Morgana and Gwen could have been happy but instead Morgana was bitter and the war was started.

[salt-and-pepper-priest]

I feel like something that isn’t talked about enough is the actual drawbacks that come with deleting the main social media apps. Like, I deleted Instagram around two years ago and I never got tiktok or Snapchat and I’m genuinely very happy with those decisions and had a lot of reasons for doing them, but i never realised how socially isolating it would be.

For everyone around me those apps are a large part of their lives, like, if you spend a significant part of your day on tiktok that’s going to have an effect on the things you talk about and just your life in general, so to be cut off from an almost universally shared experience of, like, friends or even just gen z in general is quite strange. It’s not like everyone is referencing tiktok memes constantly but there’s kind of an understanding that if you do reference a trend, everyone around you will get it, and it’s weird to just not be part of that.

I also sometimes find it hard to connect with people ig, so then to have this extra barrier of like, jokes I won’t get or references I won’t understand is also kinda annoying.

Despite all this I have been better off without Instagram, but I probably am gonna re-download it in a few months and mayb get tiktok bc i think it will be too hard to be at uni without them, but Yh this has been my rant.

[takeurexam]

the look of love - sylus x reader

sypnosis - sylus cant help but express his love for you through his magnificent look of love to you, and even if it's something you miss from him- all he cares about that his eyes still can reach you.

• no. 1 party anthem - artic monkeys

ps: this song's meaning is not connected to the concept in any way... maybe just think about the sound?

- fluff, sylus being smitten real, blood/injuries mentioned, short

There are so many moments where Sylus can just blur the whole backround, and just look at you as if you were a goddess sent down from the heavens. His look wont leave you until you snap him back to reality- if you even can.

He can name so many moments.

There was even a time when he almost bled to death, because of some fight that happened in an auction he went to while protecting the Protocore he wanted to bid on. It unfortunately was not protected, causing Sylus to get severe injuries from the fight.

Well, he could heal- but why do that when you're there tending for his wounds? How can he tell his sweet nurse, her heart full of concern for him? The sight was so amusing to him, that he couldn't seriously get his eyes off you.

"You know, I didn't expect for someone like you to get injured so seriously like this." You murmur, dipping the hot wet cloth into his wounds to clean them. You cant see it, but your patient had his eyes straight towards you, as if he was a motion detecting device.

"Don't be so careless, okay?" You whisper too quietly, but it was enough to reach the white haired man's ears. He couldn't hold back the smirk curling on his lips, seeing you so concerned for him just switches a light bulb inside him.

He looks at you, red eyes full of love inside them; he cant just get enough of it. He can't survive a day without seeing you, and the sight of your hair, your skin, your eyes, or merely your ear could be enough for him.

"You're too caring, Sweetie. It makes me want to get injured more-" Sylus recieves a not too strong, yet forceful hit on his chest from you. He sees your furrowed brows, and he swears- it was the last tug on his strings.

"Dont say that, I'll actually kill you." You lift a fist suddenly, yet it never hits Sylus. He just laughs it out, seeing you lift a fist at the Leader of Onychinus. As if you had any power against him. You did.

"Ouch." He hisses, for your words and the pain of the injury. Your eyes flicker towards him, a sting of pity stinging your heart; you were like a stingray, and you have stinged his heart completely.

You slowly patch up the wound, adding last necessary items to cover up the cleaned wound. Once you finish, you fix the materials and set them aside for now; you have something more important at hand- babysitting a twenty-eight year old.

He stares at you, his red eyes making the official color of love. You raise a brow, confused on to why he was staring right at your soul. Is there something behind you? Your face? What was it?

"You're staring at me as if I killed your whole family." You comment, crossing your arms together. He erupts into chuckles, but his gaze never leaves you.

"Nothing."

There was another moment where in you were both crossing the road, talking about where to walk to next in four in the morning, having friendly arguments on where the best place in Linkon can be for watching the sunrise.

You two decided to just walk, as it was just four in the morning, and a morning walk cant be that bad. Its cold and the atmosphere is comepletely nice, unless theres kidnappers or something- but aside that, its nice.

"This is very heavy." An elderly woman was beside the stoplight for pedestrians, carrying four heavy looking bags, at the middle of the night.

You and Sylus look at each other, with the same thought to why there was an old woman in the streets at four in the morning.

But setting your concerns aside, you leave the white haired man beside you, stepping your way to the old woman. "Here, let me help you." You smile, carrying the two other bags for her.

"Oh! Thank you, young lady. My old body cant carry bags that much anymore." She cackles, her teeth shining. "I bought so many gifts for my lovely grand children, that they were too heavy. I'm suprised I got this far." She exclaims, her smile contagious.

Your conversation with the old woman dosen't make you aware of Sylus entering the picture, as he walks behind you. He smiles, carrying the other bags from the old lady. "Let me help you too, Miss."

"Oh, how lovely." She giggles, pointing towards the house a few blocks away. "I'll just settle there, and you two can continue your way." The two of you nod, making your way to the said place.

But ago, Sylus was once again caught up in your web. He couldn't stop staring at you when you stepped up to the old lady, with no hesitation to leave him hangging alone, knowing the risk factors.

He looked at you, as if he "found his bride." He just stood there, staring at you smile widely at the old woman.

And as you two walked, he can't help it- his eyes cant stop lingering over you, he can't stop his heart from racing, how the night sky couldn't even engulf you in its darkness, and how you shine so brightly in his eyes.

It wasn't even the last time. He cant even count how many times it happened, but there was one exact moment that made his heart tie its knot to you.

When you accidentally witnessed something you weren't supposed to see. You were normally walking in Linkon, nothing unusual, until you notice a familliar red evol roaming around a balcony of the building you were staring at.

As your eyes zoom closer, you see the man who held his evol; his suit red and black. He carelessly beat up the men with him, as if he was in an action movie and he was filming for "Mission Impossible."

But your eyes squint a little more, and you see a strand of white hair on the man. "Sylus?" You murmur, not deciding to scream it out.

Like the wind carried your voice to him, Sylus looks down from the balcony, seeing your little figure looking at the mess he is right now. His heart stops, as if blood just stops flowing towards him, but it cant; he finished up the men, and with a heavy breath- he used his evol and flew down to settle beside you.

He sees you, clothes formal as you just came from work- compared to him, he looked like a mess. Blood was all over him, not even his- but from his enemies. His clothes were dirty, whilist yours were clean.

He felt his mind race. You knew about his position in Onychinus, and how dangerous he was- but he never involved you in his dirty work. He could never let you see how much of a monster he was.

His fear crept up to him, awaiting the words "monster" come out from your throat.

"Need a tissue?" You tilt your head, your tone offering and sweet. What? He was confused, where were the words he expected to come out from your mouth?

He stood there, blood creeping from his forehead, as he remained dumbfounded. He accepts the tissue you reached out to him, his eyes not leaving you.

The tissue didn't matter, damn it. Why weren't you running? Why were you still there, right infront of him, acting as if it was nothing? Was fear consuming him right now- maybe he was just hallucinating, and you already ran away from him.

You click your tongue, grabbing back the tissue from his hands. You wipe the blood from him yourself, the dim streetlamp was the only light source for you two.

While you wiped his blood, his crime- he spoke. "Why are you here, wiping the blood on my body when you've seen what I do?" His voice is quiet, a voice laced with confusion, fear, and a little bit of sprinkled hope.

"Honestly, does it matter?" You laugh, "I jumped into your life aware of what you do, so dont come to me playing the confused man, 'kay?" You snort, finishing the process of wiping the blood.

And his eyes absorbed the sight of you, as if he was being cursed by a witch to hallucinate you forever, well, for him- would it even be a curse?

You truly have recieved the look of love.

a/n: finally done! after one month of the poll, i finally release the short ahh oneshot i promised. i deliver! ❤️ so sorry this is short, i just have a thing for short fanfics LOL

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[rockrosethistle]

If there's one thing TGWDLM fans are gonna do, it's think about the implications. And the implications of the opening number are crazy.

So. We know that the show isn't completely chronological since the opening number takes place before the meteor hits. So that song is a sort of "flash forward" moment. But when you think about it, we don't really know how far in the future it takes place.

What we do know is that by the time it's happening, Emma is infected. She has a little solo in it singing about how Paul is pining over a barista

And we know that this is meant to be an infected Emma specifically. Lauren had other characters in the show, if they wanted to avoid the Emma implication they would've just dressed her as one of those.

So we know this is meant to be Emma.

And Emma isn't infected until the very end of the show. She's dragged off stage during the credits. So since she's infected in the opening number, we know the number takes place after the events of the show.

Another important detail is that Paul is infected before Emma. He's the one that passes it on to her.

So back to the opening number, Emma is infected. Which means by just following a simple timeline, Paul must also be infected. He should be singing and dancing, right?

But that's not what happens. Paul misses his entrance.

If Paul is infected, then there's no reason he should be missing his entrance. Furthermore, if he's a part of a hive mind, there's no reason other members of the same hive mind shouldn't know where he is. They are literally all connected by one brain, and yet both Mr. Davidson and Bill express they have no clue where he went.

What I'm saying is that Paul is not infected. He was infected (again, we know that because Emma is infected and he was infected before her) but now he's not anymore.

I'm saying there's a way out of the hive, and Paul found it. That's the only explanation that makes sense given the facts of the situation. Sometime after the events of tgwdlm, Paul is able not only to break out the hive mind, but to hide from it.

And if he broke out, others could do the same. Maybe even Emma.

Edit because a countertheory has emerged: Yes it's possible that everyone is infected the entire time and the show itself is just Pokey replaying the events for the fun of it. But it seems unlikely to me. First of all, each of the Lords in Black has a distinct personality. They all are evil, but within that they seems to fall somewhere on a spectrum of "silly billy" to "prick." For example, Tinky is more of a silly billy. He toys with humans without much of a motive and more for just shits and giggles. But in every instance, Pokey's more on the extreme side of prick.

He's one of the few with an actual motive behind what he does. In Yellowjacket, it's confirmed that Pokotho hates the sound of anyone's voice except for his own. The events of TGWDLM don't happen because Pokey is bored, they happen because he is executing a plan. So I don't think that he would just have them play out their little scenario just to entertain him, especially just one small island? I just feel like he'd be more focused on world domination.

If the theory is that all this is happening after Pokey's already taken over the whole world, no one was successful in stopping him, then yes it's plausible, but still weird. There are a strange amount of things in that show you just think an eldritch god wouldn't include.

Edit 2: New evidence has emerged???

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is loosely based off of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. Paul's last name is even a nod to the main character, Matthew. At the end of the film, Matthew survives, and continues living among the infected, pretending to be one of them. And wouldn't that be just such a fun little parallel...

Obviously it doesn't prove anything but the source material doesn't lie folks.

[blockedbykei]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇)

🏐 — tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: something about the stars has always intrigued tsukishima, how even in the dusk of the night, the brighest star would light up the world and burn itself in the process. he also didn't know what to do when that star had turned into the person who seemed to make his days just a little bit better.

— warnings: nothing much, except angst. just soft yet also mean tsukishima who doesn't know what to do with those feelings of his. maybe he's a little ooc. based on "andromeda" by weyes blood.

stars, so miniscule, so far away from his touch, so beautiful even with the stygian waters that it swims on.

every night, after practice, tsukishima would walk his lethargic body home with his headphones in his ears, his neck bent backwards it could snap. but he didn't care, he wanted to watch the stars move and follow him.

he wanted to watch all the dead stars who shined the brightest, the stars that had turned into supernovas, the stars that are created. and he felt at peace— the soft rhythm and reverb of the song humming in his ears, and the stars that lead him home.

and occasionally, adding to his visual and auditory senses, a sweet drink on the palate of his tongue made his evenings better.

tonight was no different.

he had just bid his goodbye to his teammates, although timidly and without masking that annoyance he'd always bore against the little tangerine boy who always had a little too much energy.

tsukishima begins his journey, using the stars as his map, putting his hands in his pockets. yamaguchi hadn't joined him for tonight. actually, he hasn't joined him in a while, always walking yachi home, using her "safety" as an excuse (it really was the reason, but obviously there was another one).

still, he didn't mind the absence of his friend.

anri's soft doo-wop brings pleasantries in his ears as the song begins. his fingers tap inside the pocket of his gym shorts. he looks up at the night sky and connects his own constellations. tsukishima wonders if those stars ever know that they're being admired by millions of people in this planet, even if they'd died billions of years ago.

as a child, he used to think that the stars were the meteors that had killed his beloved dinosaurs. and every night, he would refuse to look up. but then akiteru, despite finding humor in his little brother's childish belief, had decided to tell him the difference between meteors and stars. and then added more information about those stars.

so now tsukishima loved three things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, and stars.

his feet patter softly on the cobblestone that serves as a pathway to his home, the cool air drying the sweat off his temples and cooling his back, which reminds him to wipe his sweat when he gets home before he showers to avoid getting sick.

and then he suddenly comes in contact with a small body.

just outside of sakanoshita market, tsukishima's chest bursts in sudden (but light) pain from the person's elbow. and that person had emit a small noise of surprise and pain, stumbling backwards.

tsukishima was just about to snap, tell the person to look where they had been going and call them an idiot when his eyes met yours.

they're wide, irises darkened from the night's haze, and you're clutching your elbow, headphones askew. you rub the soft skin, a small pout on your lips and tsukishima wonders how painful was it for you to pout like this.

then you look at him and he feels the air stuck in his throat.

pretty.

"oh! sorry. i didn't mean to bump into you." you bow in front of him, hands pliant at your sides. tsukishima's at lost for words, lips only parted and looking at you. he still hasn't said anything when you bring yourself back up again.

"it's- it's okay." he finally stammers out, pausing his music and moving his headphones off from one ear. "sorry for not looking either." tsukishima bows slightly, just tilting the top half of his body.

you smile lightly at him, hanging your own headphones around your neck, scanning his figure. he suddenly feels shy under your curious gaze, watching as you read the print on the left side of his chest.

"karasuno...? ka-karasuno! i go there," you laugh lightly, like that discovery was the greatest news you'd ever heard. "i don't think i've seen you around. well, maybe because i'm new. i'm such a dumbass."

though the last sentence being a whisper, tsukishima contradicts: "n-no. i haven't seen you around either." he takes one step forward towards you, didn't expect himself to be nearer than he'd planned. "tsukishima kei."

you tell him yours in a polite manner, with a smile so bright you'd beat the stars that hover both of your bodies. "you're part of the volleyball club, aren't you?"

he hopes you don't see his wavering blush in the dim lights. "yes."

"cool! what position?"

"middle blocker."

"that's so cool," you face him, neck bent upwards to meet his eyes, hands forming into excited fists in front of you, like how hinata would get enthusiastic about something. "you're really tall. i bet, i mean if you could, you'd hit the streetlights when you jump."

that theory piques his curiosity. his eyebrows raise. "i haven't given it a thought. i will try it soon though." tsukishima finally removes his headphones and leaves them around his neck. he points to the bag in her hands. "what'd you buy?"

"chocolate milk. ukai-chan is your coach, right?"

"how'd you know?"

"i see him enter the gym everyday after classes. he owns this store," your head motions behind you. "can you tell him his mom is a little mean? i actually preferred it when he was watching over the store."

tsukishima smiles a little. "can't. he's our coach. he might actually drop us for his store."

your laugh may be brighter than anything else in existence.

"okay, well, see you around tsukishima-san." you smile at him, the pearls of your teeth glinting in the moonlight, the whiskers of your eyes denote the glee you've obtained from him and tsukishima softens just a little. you wave at him and walk past him.

he turns around, and even though your back was to him, his hand lifts and waves at you.

tsukishima walks home happier than he expected, a small smile lingering on his face.

🏐 —

"who you looking for, tsukki?"

yamaguchi serves his friend a teasing smile, holding the tray carefully in his hands. tsukishima looks down at his friend and deadpans:

"shut up, yamaguchi."

"sorry tsukki."

they sit down on the table hinata and kageyama sit on, the two bantering quite loudly on which flavored milk was the best and is advisable to increase their energy. kageyama says: "banana, you dumbass."

hinata argues that: "it's chocolate! it makes people hyper for a reason. could you watch your language?!"

tsukishima and yamaguchi sit beside each other, their backs to the window of the cafeteria, which meant that tsukishima has a view of the entire room, his height being an advantage despite the large crowds.

he blindly brings his bento out of his box, his eyes never leaving the heedless crowd. yamaguchi, ever the curious, most specifically the friend who always wondered what it is that ran through tsukishima's mind, asked again: "seriously, tsukki, who are you looking for?"

tsukishima huffs. "just sawamura-san. i need a-advice. on my blocks." the lie slips easily off his tongue that yamaguchi can't decide between believing him or forcing the truth out of him.

but tsukishima is slightly disappointed that even after five minutes, he still can't see the color of your hair amidst the throng of students. though his face might say otherwise (rbf), he can't help but feel a little sad.

maybe the star isn't shining so bright today.

he pokes and prods at the vegetables placed on top of his rice, stabbing the carrot and shoving it in his frowning mouth. he doesn't notice that hinata has been observing– no, looking at him. because hinata was never the type of person who could be discreet.

"stingyshima, you look sad," he doesn't know if it's a tease or not, but maybe it is. "is he looking for someone, yamaguchi?"

"i don't know," he shrugs. "he says he's looking for sawamura-san."

"he's right there," kageyama jabs his finger behind him, seeing daichi in line for the cafeteria food. "your blocks haven't been good? figured."

"sorry if i haven't lived up to your standards, king." tsukishima sneers. yamaguchi and hinata laugh, kageyama burning in his seat.

eating his lunch ended quite faster than he thought it would, and soon he finds himself walking along the hallway of the school building waiting for the remaining free time to end. so his boredom drags his feet towards the nearest vending machine.

the device on his ears blocked out all the haze and noise of the world, which left him in his own environment. it eased the nerves that trickled along his veins, rubbed the tension off his shoulders. in his own milieu, he could think whatever and say whatever and do whatever.

just like how stars form themselves however they please, explode and die whenever they want to. tsukishima didn't have better knowledge of stars than he knew of dinosaurs, but it was his own thought and he had the freedom to think whatever it is (although of course, with just a little bit of accuracy and validity).

tsukishima's eyes scan the plastic divisions for the sight of any strawberry drinks. when they land on one, he types the number and slips the cash in. the conveyor belts begin to twist.

but much to his dismay, when the drink was pushed, it never fell.

he tuts in frustration, his head falling backwards to release a tired, irritated sigh.

and then you pop up beside him.

tsukishima jumps lightly when he sees you put your head out and smile at him, clutching his heaving chest. somehow, your laugh had managed to drown out the song in his ears; he doesn't mind though. he thinks your smile was the most beautiful orchestra ever conducted.

he puts his headphones around his neck. "they're incredibly annoying, aren't they?" you smile up at him. "here, i'll help you."

suddenly, you begin to violently shake the vending machine. tsukishima almost feels embarrassed for you, but the lack of audience has rid that feeling. you, with your height, looked like a child angrily throwing a tantrum and had transferred your anger towards an object.

nonetheless, adorable.

finally, the strawberry drink fell down, and you squat to pick it up from the port to give it to him. tsukishima takes it from you and says: "thank you."

"no problem!" you beam at him. "i was actually looking for you earlier. i couldn't see you. did you eat at your classroom?"

tsukishima removes the plastic of his straw. "no. i was at the cafeteria." he doesn't want to admit he's looking for you too, but he hopes you can see it in his eyes.

(you don't. to you, he looked uninterested and entertained at the same time. very hard to read)

"aw, alright. well, i was just wondering if you'd like to, uh, switch emails?" you're shy and he finds it amusing. "not switch like i use yours and you use mine, but switch like i take yours and you take mine... so we could text each other..."

he wants to say that he knows, he's not dumb. but you– your eager eyes of softness look up at him and he forgets how to be so cruel and cold. like you were the kind of fire to melt the falling snowflakes. tsukishima nods.

"sure." he pulls his phone out with one hand from his pocket and hands it to you. you take it and give your phone to him, and it felt smaller in his hands.

when you exchange phones again, there's shyness written across your face. tsukishima can't help but blush with the way the sun kisses your skin the way it would to tainted windows– radiating colors so beautiful he can't help but simply be at awe towards you.

a star is created somewhere far away. tsukishima's heart skips a beat.

"i was actually looking for you, too. earlier." he admits, putting his phone back in his pocket. "i couldn't see you. sorry."

"don't be sorry!" there goes that smile again, always making his heart flip. "we both struggled anyway."

"do you want anything?" he points to the vending machine. "chocolate? banana? strawberry?"

"can i try yours first?"

tsukishima pauses, the straw in his mouth just finishing his sip. there's innocence in your eyes that riles him up the wall in ludicrous ways. he slowly takes the straw out between his lips and hands it to you, with you greedily taking it from him before his hand met you halfway.

he swears he could've been redder than any other person in the world when you so shamelessly put his straw in your mouth.

should i be worried about the germs or the fact that we kind of just kissed but not really?

when you sip, you swallow and he can see your brain ponder on what decision you were going to make. you hand it back to him and say: "yeah, i like that one, too."

how could you act like you didn't just drink from his straw?

tsukishima gets you one, this time without shaking the vending machine and hands it to you.

"thank you." you say, your smile adding to your gratitude.

though it seems as if time has reached its end and a familiar sound rings across the hallway that reminds the both of you that the free time was over. tsukishima sees your pout but you don't directly show it to him.

"well, see you around, tsukishima!" you wave goodbye to him, walking away.

tsukishima stands still, staying at his place. his drink was no longer cold, the condensation dripping down his fingers.

somehow, the colors are brighter, the drink was sweeter, the tension from his body had disappeared, and everything else felt lighter. and even if you were no longer standing in his proximity, that luster you left behind etched itself to him.

you were now his new environment.

🏐 —

you. hi tsukishima! 3:13pm

when his phone dings, he places his waterbottle to his side, tuning out the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls. he sees your name on the screen. he doesn't hesitate to text back.

tsukishima. Hi. 3:13pm

his palms sweat from simply typing that greeting. but his heart seems to beat faster and his chest feels light. he didn't expect that you'd text right away. nevertheless, he feels elated to see you text him.

you. didnt see u at the gates earlier during dismissal, do u have training today? 3:15pm

tsukishima. Yes. 3:15pm

you. oh really? until what time? 3:18pm

tsukishima. 7. 3:18pm

you. okay! thats kind of tiring haha. 3:20pm

tsukishima. It is. 3:20pm

he winces at the possible tone he may deliver, so he adds:

tsukishima. Haha. 3:20pm

"bruh, you text so lame."

it seems that tanaka had been peaking over his shoulder as the conversation ensued. tsukishima hugs his phone to his chest and glares at him. "that's invasion of privacy."

"and that's how to lose a girl," he points at his phone. "you text like you're so uninterested."

yamaguchi looks at the two. "who's tsukki texting?"

"some girl named, uh,–"

"no one." tsukishima snaps. "no one."

"oh, it must be the one tsukishima was looking for earlier," hinata runs– or skips towards them. "stingyshima flirting? i wonder how you look like. i'm smart, but i won't tell you that i'm a smartass because i wanna impress you with my blocking skills. i'm so cool and so tall."

tsukishima hates how hinata mimics him. he bites back. "oh, i'm hinata. i'm so small."

much to his dismay, even sugawara had joined in. "you could tell her that, you know, i'm so tired. but i'm drinking water so that's good enough for me already."

he responds with respect, though dripping his annoyance. "sugawara-san, please don't mimic me."

his phone vibrates again, and everyone else leans in to look. tsukishima snarls and moves away from them, clutching his dear phone to his chest.

you. any chance we could drink later? 3:27pm

you. not alcohol, of course. just milk or juice, or a shake, even yogurt. although, we can't drink yogurt... 3:27pm

tsukishima feels yamaguchi peer over his shoulder, and he knows its him because of that distinct smell of his. he doesn't hide the phone away even when yamaguchi says: "she's asking you out! go!"

"calm down, yamaguchi."

he shakily types his response.

tsukishima. Sure. By the store again? 3:27pm

three dots, he's awaiting for your response.

you. okay! see you there :) 3:28pm

🏐 —

his practice ends at 7 on the dot. tsukishima has never left faster in his life.

though he was always the first to leave, bidding them goodbye before walking his way home. this was different– his goodbye bore that sense of urgency with a twinge of excitement as he clumsily slipped his regular shoes on, walking as fast as he could away from the school campus.

coach ukai had actually offered that they go back to the store together, but tsukishima was in a rush.

it was an eight minute walk to the store. he got there in five.

you were no longer wearing your school uniform. you had your hands at your sides, rocking back in forth from the heels of your feet, your headphones bobbing along with your head as you listened to your song. tsukishima wonders how he would approach you.

a tap on the shoulder? yell your name? appear in front of you? should he turn you around violently and smile awkwardly? should he–

"tsukishima-san!"

he didn't realize that he had spaced out, blinking. you approach tsukishima as you discard your headphones to hang them around your neck, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.

"how was practice?" you pip. "you look exhausted."

tsukishima reddens. "i'm alright. same practice anyway," he rubs the back of his neck. "should we go inside? i'm thirsty."

he hopes he doesn't sound too demanding. but you reacted normally, gave him a pretty smile, and led your way towards the store.

coach ukai's mother sat behind the counter, sporting the same cigarette in her mouth, a garbled greeting escaping her without bothering to look up as she read her newspaper. you and tsukishima find your way to the back where the drinks are.

he opens the door for you, the appliance bulb casting a white glow over your face as you bent and searched for what drink made your veins twitch with excitement.

"by the way, you know yachi hitoka?" you balance your hands on your knees, looking up at him. "she's your manager right? i'm in her class!"

"really?" he queries, swallowing thickly. "you're really smart, then. it's one of the higher classes."

"i try," you shrug shyly, looking back at the selection of drinks. "anyway, i asked her about you. she said that you were a middle blocker, 6 foot something, and that she liked your friend yamaguchi? i don't know, she said it then she denied it."

"oh, she likes him alright," he chuckles. "he walks her home every night."

"really?!" you pick up two cans of coke and clutch them to your chest, standing upwards. tsukishima shyly reaches for another strawberry drink. "i'm mad at her for not telling me that."

you make your way to the front with tsukishima following behind you. you place the contents on the counter, the woman behind muttering something you can't discern as she scanned your orders.

"are you allowed to stay out a little longer?" you ask him, the soft beeps of the drinks grazing his ears. he shrugs again, reaching for his wallet.

"yeah, sure. do you want to do something?" he places the payment on the counter before you were able to take your own cash out. you pout.

"i was going to pay for mine."

"it's alright. it wasn't that expensive, anyway." he smiles a little at you. and it was the first time tsukishima had ever smiled kindly at anyone, except yamaguchi, his mom, and akiteru. "you were saying?"

you pop open your can. "i found this really nice spot where you can stargaze. and, honestly, i'm bored and tomorrow's the weekend. i would have invited you to do this tomorrow, but we're here now!"

he laughs through his nose. "i'm free anytime."

when you both approach the exit, coach ukai and the team stand by the open doors. tsukishima stops on his tracks, his mouth parted the slighest as you tip your head back to drink your soda. when your head comes back in place, your eyes settle on the crowd upon you.

"oh, hello ukai-san!"

tsukishima looks at you through his peripherals before darting his eyes back front. they all snicker, eyes widened at the sight in front of them— cold, narcissistic, mean tsukishima kei, with probably the nicest girl in all of karasuno. yachi waves at you.

"is that why you were rushing to get out, tsukishima?" ukai teases, a cigarette hanging loosely off his lips. "i see you've met my number 1 customer."

he blushes when he's exposed, and he ignores the way you give him a surprised glance.

"so you must be the girl he was texting earlier," tanaka approaches you, offers his hand. "forgive him. he sounds lame when he texts, but trust me if you saw his face he looked like–"

"tanaka-san." tsukishima almost pleads.

while shaking his hand, yachi approaches you with yamaguchi behind her. "this is why you asked me about him!"

"shut up, yachi."

tsukishima could die right then and there. melt into a puddle of sweat and embarrassment. there were words exchanged between you and his ever loving team, the heat on his face becoming hotter and hotter at every second.

he wishes he could leave now.

by the time hinata begins to ask you a question about tsukishima's attitude, he sighs loudly. "excuse us, but we have to head out now."

you look at him again. "we do?"

"yes, we do," he looks down at you. "you told me, remember?"

you smile at him, recollecting your invitation. "oh, yes! we should get going."

you offer your goodbyes to the curious group. tsukishima wallows in discomfort, walking away with his shoulders slightly slumped and a hand in his pocket.

"i like them," you tell him, drinking your coke. "they're nice."

"they're really not," he takes a sip of his drink. "if you hung out with them, you'd be just as annoyed as i was."

his "joke" makes you laugh. first he thinks what could be so funny about his comment, then he realizes you don't actually know that he wasn't joking. the thought makes him swoon just a little.

"so why stargazing?" his and your feet are synchronized, stepping on the uneven cobblestone to the destination that tsukishima still doesn't know. your shoulder is closed to his when you walk; he resists the urge to put his hand out so that they'd graze your fingers, feeling the heat rub on his calloused skin.

"yesterday, when you walked home, i looked back and saw you look up at the sky," you reply. "and i realized that "oh, he stargazes too!" so i decided to bring you to my spot."

"your spot?" you hum in agreement. "why?"

"because it's nice to share the feeling of looking up at beautiful stars." you throw your now empty can onto a nearby bin, opening your second one. "i figured maybe you might feel the same way i do."

if it was admiration then yes, he felt the same way you did.

🏐 —

tsukishima realizes the walk was 10 minutes away from his home. now you're both standing at a hill where you can see all the houses nearby and karasuno at the other side.

you sit down on the ground, he copies you. his bottom sits on the soft soil, his fingers prickled by the grass, and the cold smell of the meadow enters his nostrils.

he thinks that everything is happening a little too fast – he had only met you yesterday, exchanged emails earlier, went out to buy drinks, and now you're both sitting at a hill stargazing like it's a date. your optimism and kindness shakes him a little, leaving him with an unknown thought of what he could possibly do as of this moment.

yet he's still here, watching you gaze at the stars, the sheer glow of the moon kissing your cheeks, the stars reflecting off the mosaic of your eyes. you're radiating this cordial heat that wraps around his right arm that rests just millimeters away from you.

"told you it's pretty," you beam, lips parted, never sparing him a glance. "you see that? that's cassiopea right there."

you point to the sky and squint, and it's only then tsukishima takes his eyes off you and follow the direction of your fingerprint.

you trace the invisible strings that connect each star to one another. blearily, his imagination turns those strings into silver. tsukishima draws nearer towards you, his shoulder now bumping yours, his pinkie grazing the skin of your finger.

"andromeda isn't here yet. but it's the one i've been waiting for the most," you turn your head to look at him.

tsukishima's breath hitches when he realizes that he may have underestimated how close the proximity he had created was, your breath fanning his face. he senses your surprise, the way the bottom of your eyes twitch lightly and your nose scrunches a little.

"i figure maybe they arive in a few weeks," he murmurs. he can sense your surprise and says: "you're not the only one who knows about stars."

"yeah? figured you were more into dinosaurs."

"that's true," he sniffles, you giggle. "when i was a kid i thought that the stars were the ones who killed the dinosaurs. so every night, when i see them, i would always cry 'cause i thought that they might fall here and kill us all."

"pessimist, huh?" when your head tilts up, your chin bumps his shoulder. "anything else i should know about you?"

"there's one thing i want to tell you but i've been making it plainly obvious."

"you have a knack for strawberries."

"yes," he smiles a little, the whites of his teeth appearing between his thin lips. "i like music."

"so do i."

"yeah? what genre?"

"...anri..."

"really?" tsukishima's eyes brighten, maybe even brighter than the stars. "i like her music."

"i thought you were kind of a japanese rock kind of guy."

"i can be many things," you look back up to the sky, your eyes darting between each individual star like you're tracing another constellation. tsukishima's tracing the features of your face like it was his constellation.

"yachi says you're mean, but in a way that brings up the team's drive to play harder," you say into the wind. "please don't be mean to me. i cry easily."

tsukishima wonders if he can even smile more than he is now. "i'll try my best. you're giving me a lot of reasons to be mean right now."

"but you're not being mean to me right now," you poke his glasses and shove them to his face, hurting the bridge of his nose. albeit tsukishima doesn't mutter a single complaint. "you're just being dorky."

"i am not!" he balances his body with one hand behind him, the other tugging on the end of your hair.

"now you're just being childish!"

your laugh beats out all the songs he had to search for to complete every single of his playlists. it was as soft as silk, as dulcet as violins; it was something he'd play on repeat when it played on his headphones. and your sweet laughed matched the way your face became even more beautiful.

tsukishima feels his heart beat a little bit faster.

a star explodes. supernova.

he no longer feels wearied from practice, his body languid from comfort in your presence. and just like last night, he was happy his day ended with something that lacked the usual bothersome feeling in his chest, but something that decompressed every constraint muscle in his body and think of something else that made the corner of his lips smile and his heart elated.

that's why when he went back home, when his mother and akiteru (who was visiting) were dead asleep, he silently descended to his room with a smile on his face, brushed his teeth with the sound of your laugh echoing in his ears, changed his clothes with your scent somehow lingering, and went to be thinking about you.

🏐 —

the past few weeks were more eventful than the days he had to train for the inter-high preliminaries.

the more he saw you, the more he felt himself unwinding like a diurnal motion, every trust and rigor travelling through his veins whenever your aura touched his opalescent skin.

you were the succor to his weary bones. you were the happiness that he never truly found in others. you were the light brighter than the stars could ever give him in the dark.

secrets were passed the way notes would in classes.

you got a sweet tooth? what dessert do you like?

strawberry shortcake, tsukishima said. no regrets, no embarrassment. pure adoration.

did you know that velociraptors aren't actually that big?

yeah? how'd you know that, tsukishima?

it's called reading, he'd roll his eyes. you're in the highest class and you don't read?

his retorts were never used to add insult to injury. that's what he liked about you– you knew when he was serious and when he wasn't despite the fact that tsukishima believed that he was hard to read. it seemed like you were able to read him better than yamaguchi has.

his heart aches at the thought. the ache, painful but so good, but something that he could not discern the true intention.

but he could never let you in him. never in his life.

you. saw a frog and it looked like you. loser. 12:51pm

you and tsukishima had exchanged countless of texts that contained topics that he never expected himself to be indulging in. that familiar ding! of his phone reminded him of you already, because you'd been the only one who constantly texted him more than yamaguchi has.

(also because, well, he set up a different tone for you.)

tsukishima sees your name pop up in a rectangular notification on his screen. he opens it with sweaty hands and a towel over his head, his thumbs typing out a snarky reply.

tsukishima. How could a frog look like me, (y/n)? That's dumb. 12:51pm

he ruffles his towel over his damp curls, the sweat on his temples being sucked into the cloth. he watches the three bubbles appear on your side and you say:

you. because i said so. look! 12:52pm

the attached image looked far from what tsukishima looks like. it was a regular frog, beside a pond, with no thoughts. he rolls his eyes.

tsukishima. I don't see it. 12:53pm

you. thats because youre not LOOKING. do u see his eyes? literally you. i think its the mouth, haha 12:54pm

he laughs either way despite not having seen any similarities. but laughing seemed to be a mistake, as he forgot where he was at the moment.

"quit laughing, tsukishima. you'll slack off," kageyama taunts from afar, face etched into an arrogant smirk. yamaguchi approaches him, peeking over tsukishima's shoulder to snoop on the conversation.

"are you worried i'll ruin your game, king?" tsukishima rubs the back of his neck, tilting his chin upwards. "my apologies."

you send him another text: omw there to see u :p 12:59pm

the latter's growl was overpowered by yamaguchi's hum of interest. "tsukki, that frog does look like you."

"yamaguchi, how nosy are you?"

"nosy enough to ask when will you tell her that you like her?"

tsukishima's eyebrows furrow. he did not like you. during those weeks, the both of you did more than just exchange texts in any time of day– often you'd meet after classes and buy a drink when he didn't have practice; sometimes you'd wait for him until seven in the evening so you'd both go up the hill again and talk mindlessly about things that tickled your brains.

in those few weeks, he had learned more about himself than he ever had with anyone else.

and he feels, though never actually given any attention to, that his days ended with a smile on his face rather than feeling boredom creeping up his shoulder like a grim reaper would on a dying soul.

instead, it felt like he was resurrected; tsukishima felt like a shooting star falling through evening, the fire pulsing through his veins as he fell. with you, he felt like everything else had color, that everything else made sense.

his life became brighter that it seemed like hinata's hair was actually on fire from the bright orange hues.

so no, he did not like you.

"i don't like her." he wipes the sweat that dripped onto his glasses. "don't be ridiculous."

"yesterday, when you were eating, you kept talking about how this (y/n) girl told you how the dinosaurs from jurassic park were created. and all of us were talking about one piece."

"so? it's way more interesting."

"but not her?"

"yamaguchi," he bemoans. "nothing is interesting about her."

that lie. that sickeningly, macabre, heartbreaking lie that it even hurt him to say it. tsukishima also doesn't understand why yamaguchi has a horrified face plastered on him, but he realizes he wasn't looking at his friend, and was looking behind him.

he whips his head around.

the tips of your shoes had mud on them from the dampened soil. your umbrella hung loosely around your wrist and dripped on the ground. your fingers clasped around a small contained with what seemed to be strawberry shortcaked that looked delectable enough to make his stomach hurt. and your chest heaved from what he assumed was the aftermath of rapid walking.

despite the sight that had made his head spin, the affliction that twitched from your frowning lips and the gloss that made your eyes shine from dejection had turned the situation into something so monotone he feels like his soul had just left life.

a star dies in the middle of the galaxy.

tsukishima thinks the regret plastered on his face may be seen. he hopes that it is.

the sound of squeaking shoes and ricocheting balls continue, but the ringing of his ears are louder. you swallow thickly, shuffling on your feet, and approach him hesitantly like he'd burn you if you were near him.

"i brought you this because you looked so pale yesterday after you practiced," you say softly, though he could hear the pain in your tone. tsukishima takes the container from your reaching hand, and swears he sees your breath hitch when his fingers graze yours.

"thank you–"

"see you around, tsukishima," you bow, before you hurriedly leave the gymnasium.

it felt like the room was shrinking rapidly on him, his muscles pressing in on his body in a suffocating manner. yamaguchi puts his hand on tsukishima's shoulder, leaning down to check in on his distraught friend.

"tsukki," his eyebrows are raised in concern, voice loud enough to snap tsukishima out of his pity daze but low enough that everybody else remained distracted. "hey..."

"i'm fine," he looks up at him. "it's nothing. i'm- i'm fine. let's just go back to practice."

his fists clench when he shoves the cake into his bag and walks back into the court. his blocks are futile when he thinks of your eyes. his serves hit the net when he thinks of the frown pasted on your lips. and he feels himself at the bottom of the game when another star dies.

he just doesn't know if it was his or yours. could a heart break two times?

🏐 –

tsukishima had a crisp trepidation towards the true veneer of love.

he believes he was too young for that, that he was in a stage where he would have this deep passion for things that were alive albeit something that he can't touch nor interconnect with– hense is unfathomable love for dinosaurs, stars, and strawberry shortcake.

so whatever it is that he was feeling for you – he doesn't know if it's love. tsukishima feels like he could die if he didn't see you for a single day; his feet and his body restless up until you both meet after practice.

tsukishima is even more restless now.

there wasn't a single text from you since 12:59 in the afternoon.

there was almost a hundred texts from tsukishima since 3:00pm, the time he had excused himself early from his practice.

he lays on his bed, his headphones on but no music. he wasn't in the mood to put himself up in brighter spirits. his back rests uncomfortably on the thick mattress, his curls splayed across his pillow, a hand on his chest and a hand holding a fork, his feet spread apart.

and the strawberry shortcake you gave him rests on his chest, half eaten, his mouth chewing sadly on the sweet delicacy.

"do you think stars have thoughts?" you asked. tsukishima found this beguiling and preposterous simultaneously, however the curiosity that happened to lift his lips into a dazed smile made him release a teasing retort:

"you certainly don't."

you threw a grape at him. he caught it with an open mouth. the sun was about to set, but the warmth was enough to prevent the both of you from shivering idiotically on the hill at the cold breeze. "i'm approaching an epiphany, asshole."

your vulgarity made him smile more. "celestial bodies, more specifically stars, do not have thoughts. but they're alive, and they function into a cycle."

"unorthodox minds like mine go out of the box," you rolled your eyes. "sorry, i'll put it in simpler terms so you could understand. i have a very creative mind."

"oh yeah?" tsukishima tilted his head sideways to present his interest. "and what'd you mean by that?"

"you know how stars die and create themselves?" you queried. "it's like how phoenixes rise from the ashes as they're reborn. but when a star resurrects, they're called "zombie stars," right?"

"yeah."

"and i'm not saying that they have a mind of their own, but if you were to input your own thoughts into a star, then yeah, it's like they resurrect themselves to live on with life over and over again, and don't you think that's exhausting? they're like dead stars, and they still shine brightly, and it's ironic, right? because something that has been dead billions of years ago still shine. it has a meaning into it that people just... completely ignore."

"so an analogy?" his eyebrow raised.

"yeah, something like that," you licked your lips. "when you see a bright star, and you don't know if it's a dead star. but imagine stargazing and finding love in something that has been dead long ago."

tsukishima's body softened. "uhuh."

"but what if you keep loving that star? and that star just receives so much of that love that they're able to resurrect themselves. well, obviously loving a star isn't actually gonna bring it back to life because there's a separate scientific explanation for that, but i'm saying that– that if you love something, or someone, hard enough that you're able to bring light into their lives, then that's possible.

and they take all that love for the benefit of their life and... they burst into something beautiful called supernovas."

tsukishima stared at you, his gaze ever so adoringly. "and what's the point of this epiphany of yours?"

"that loving someone that has been gone inside their body is possible to save them and bring them back to life to turn them into someone even more beautiful."

tsukishima sits back up, a whiplash from the quick commotion.

it was already night when his thin curtains were tainted black from the dark glow of the evening.

he pushes himself off his bed, slip his way out of his home and clumsily puts his shoes on to find you.

and he knows exactly where you are.

so it's no surprise when he sees you all alone, laying down on the meadow of the hill, blooming flowers grazing your cheeks in any way the wind blows. tsukishima stands and stares at you longingly, his fingers twitching beside him.

"(y/n)."

he says your name like an oath to the stars. you sit up, hearing his voice, cheeks dry with tears melting onto your skin. tsukishima's heart breaks the slightest when he brings himself up the hill.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him, voice so small he'd think you were whispering.

to his surprise, tsukishima falls onto his knees in front of you. he finds it endearing that despite the reduce of his height, you still look up at him. then he takes your hands into his, his thumbs tracing every ridge of your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes.

"i didn't mean what i said." he declares like he was under jurisdiction of the judge. "you are–... the most interesting woman in the world. the most beguiling, the most entrusting, the most beautiful."

your eyebrows furrow, hands shaking in his grasp. "what are you saying?"

"that i'm an asshole." he admits. "you are so interesting that every epiphany of yours pulls me back on the ground and into you. that epiphany you had about dead stars that resurrect themselves from getting so much love? shit, (y/n), that may be me."

you let out a tiny gasp, maybe a breath of reliefz his face is so close to yours, his knees in between your legs, bumping the side of your thighs. "what?"

"i–... i don't know if you love me. you don't have to. but you've made my days brighter and gave my life meaning that i felt like i was resurrected. like all the pieces in me were brought back together. and everything else just felt... alive."

finally, you smile. just a little, but it was enough to make the grass greener and the color of your shirt turn pastel, your eyes vibrant in the night. "yeah?"

"yeah," he laughs, idiotically he may add. "i like you. i like you so much. i like you more than i like dinosaurs."

you guffaw, throwing your head back, hands never letting go.

a star resurrects. a supernova explodes.

"i like you more," you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

it was enough for him to jump on you to press his lips on your awaiting mouth, gently pressing you down on the grass, his hand on the back of your head to soften the blow as he settles himself in between your legs.

his mouth, sweet with strawberries and ardor, his hair soft like flowers when your fingers tangle on the golden locks, his glasses pressing against the space between your eyebrows and the bridge of your nose, his tongue that hovers respectfully on top of your bottom lip.

innocent, lips full of solicitude, he kisses you deeper and with care, his head tilting to open his mouth the slightest so that he could get closer to you. the small sound that emits from your mouth makes him pull back and smile shyly.

his eyes had the galaxies reflected off his eyes that it made space seem like they were golden from his irises. you take his glasses off, placing them beside you, and let your hands rest on his face; tucking his hair behind his ear as you do so.

and above your intertwined bodies, andromeda swims across the stygian night sky, traced by invisible strings. just as tsukishima predicted.

tsukishima could stare at you for the rest of his life.

tsukishima loved four things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, stars, and most especially:

you.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Ok, I've thought about it for a while and I've decided on what I want to request. This is a mix of angsty/fluffy maybe suggestive so let me know if this is too much but I'm thinking dormleaders from twst x faker reader. By faker I mean reader is always acting suave and they are really flirty, but a lot of the time they are overthinking about how they must be annoying people. (totally not speaking from personal experience) Reader's love language is physical touch so they always want to be cuddling or at least touching somehow. Reader is teasing and then one day their s/o snaps at them for being clingy and that makes reader give up and spiral on how they must be stupid for thinking that their s/o actually liked them. Then reader doesn't talk to their s/o for a while, (lets say 2-3 days, maybe) eventually reader is cornered by their s/o and admits how they feel. Fluff ensues and reader gets to worship and praise their s/o's body like they wanted. Then reader is reassured in their connection with their s/o.

Is that a lot? I feel like it's a lot, I'm so sorry please ignore me if I am overstepping. Thank you so much for even looking at that massive hunk of text and attempting to decipher it.

Well wishes, love - 🕸 anon (Dec 17, 2023)

Dorm Heads - Male Reader Who's Clingy & Flirty To Hide Their Insecurity

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Hey 🕸Spiderweb Anon, It's almost been a year since you sent this to me; I'm so sorry that I've ignored it until now! You probably don't even remember that you sent this in the first place, but I hope I captured what you wanted all that time ago. Sidenote– I took the avoiding part out because they have too much influence in the NRC for you to avoid them, I'm just being realistic here. This post is written in the second person. The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Super Shy” by New Jeans. —Benny🐰

WARNINGS ➔ Canon Personality Leona & Vil; They Aren't Very Empathetic in Canon and I'm Tired of Getting Complaints From Anons About How ‘Mean’ They Are in My Writing So There's The Warning

WORD COUNT: 4,301 words

                                                                                                   

❝𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞-- 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝕴 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊-- 떨리는 지금도 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊-- 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞~❞

. . .

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

🌹  This little British boy is all about doing things in the right place at the right time, but his reaction also depends on his mood and other outliers. Riddle does enjoy it when you give him physical affection and stick close to him, it makes him feel desired and cared for, however, if you do it too often, he'll feel suffocated. As for flirting… I don't think it matters what time you do it, he won’t take it too well. Riddle feels like flirting is very private and depends on the circumstances; plus, he gets embarrassed in intimate situations due to his love-lacking childhood. However, he does like to feel handsome and desirable to you so he won't complain too much; if you're doing it in front of others or in an inappropriate setting, prepare to have a collar around your neck.

🌹  Remember the collar? You're getting collared, but he's channeling his anger in a non-violent way, right? The only way I believe Riddle would snap at you is if you continuously forgot (or ignored) his warnings and reminders about your behavior and how he feels about it. Keep in mind that he considers three times to be continuous. There will be a lot of yelling, his face will resemble a tomato, and you will certainly cry. While he's not as quick to anger as before he overblotted, he still has a pretty short temper and can hold a grudge for quite a long time, so I hope that collar is comfortable. Riddle will eventually remove it, but while he's avoiding you out of disappointment in himself, it won’t be at the top of the list of things to address. And yes, he will run to his therapi– I mean, Trey, for help to fix all of this.

🌹  Riddle… has never been all that good at apologies or accepting that he's in the wrong in the first place, so it'll take him a while to work up the courage and the maturity to apologize to you. He'd probably go and get you from your dorm and drag you off to his own to sit down for tea and awkwardly beat around the bush for a while. But, if you're silent for long enough, he'll push his pride aside and admit he was wrong with how he went about reacting as well as explaining why exactly he got so upset with you. Riddle will set clear boundaries after apologizing for his behavior and will explain the reasons why your actions were unacceptable to him. While he would prefer that you forgive him, he makes it clear that you don't have to and that he needs to work on expressing his irritation in a less harmful way to benefit both of you.

🌹  After sitting down for tea and discussing your insecurity, Riddle would be both incredibly supportive of you and somewhat disappointed that you don't trust that he loves you enough to think you're worthy of him. It breaks his heart that he subconsciously made you feel like you had to act out the way you did. Riddle makes sure to establish that he loves you as you are, insecurity and all. He sets aside time for you two to spend time together and lets you indulge in giving him as much physical affection as you want.

🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏•♡•🃏

“Don't pretend to be someone you're not; I like you jus’ as you are when you're yourself. If you want to touch me that's fine; jus’-! jus' do it in a private place... alright, My Rose?”  

 🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

🦁  Leona does not like being clung to or touched often. He prefers it if he's the one to initiate physical contact and affection, it helps him feel more in control. Most times, he doesn't even touch you and only hangs out nearby (which could be inches away to just in the same general vicinity); he just prefers it that way. So, clinging to him, at all really, is a surefire way to piss him off, since he doesn't like the feeling of being restricted or weighted down; especially when he's just waking up, it makes him feel like he's suffocating. Flirting, on the other hand, is sort of a love language in itself for Leona; although his flirting is more on the low-energy side. Since he wants to make his partner feel desired by him he's bad at thinking of gifts and date locations and is too lazy to do acts of service, words of affirmation are his go-to. He doesn't like to do it too often though, or it doesn't feel as meaningful and genuine as he means it to sound.

🦁  Yikes. If he snapped at you… honestly, didn't you deserve it? You must be blind not to notice his discomfort with your actions which he voiced to you a few times. But, hey, maybe you didn't notice; some people can't read the room or other people well, and I don't blame you for that, because I can't either. As a feline, Leona values personal space and control more than most things, and your clinging to him will piss him off quickly. He can usually keep his mood in check, but all it takes is one bad day and you do that will 100% end in him taking all his pent-up irritation out on you. He'll most likely say some hurtful stuff in his fit of anger and won't see you for a few days. Leona might even ban you from his dorm for those few days if he's pissed enough; he doesn't want to feel like the bad guy, so he won't acknowledge that he is for a bit.

🦁  Honestly? Leona is the type of person who gets over stuff after a few hours to a few days and expects you to do the same. If you don't and you bring it up again, he'll likely hit you with the ‘That was so long ago and you aren't over it yet?’. However, he'll get it into his head that he may have seriously hurt your feelings if he sees any drastic changes in your behavior. Things like avoiding him, not speaking to him, cowering away from him, flinching, ending the conversation when you see him nearby, and leaving the room after he enters. But what gets Leona bad, is if he sees that he made you cry. When I tell you that this man will be on his knees after seeing just the reddening of your eyes I'm not joking. He didn't think he upset you that bad before but now, he's groveling for your forgiveness, because he knows that you're the only person that's willing to put up with his shit on top of loving you more than the air he breathes each day.

🦁  Leona will treat you like royalty after he apologizes, explaining that while he doesn't like being touched he'll indulge you now and then because he knows you just want to show him how much you love him. He'll also do his best to dispel all of your insecurities and remind you that it's not you that doesn't deserve him, but him that doesn't deserve you. Although Leona isn't the best person in Twisted Wonderland, he'll try his best for you.

🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾•♡•🐾

“HEY- GET OFF! –Oh shit, no no no, I didn’t mean to make ya cry. M’sorry, I just got startled ‘n’ today has been shit, so I took it out on ya in the end. Nakupenda, Wangu*; ya know that doncha?”  

 🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

🐙  This one's hard… while I want to say that Azul would greatly appreciate your affection toward him and his body; we also have to take into account his issues with his self-image. Going by that– I don't think that he would like it if you touched him very often. The problem wouldn't be that he's uncomfortable, embarrassed, or annoyed, but that he doesn't want you to touch him and then feel disgusted with how his body is shaped. Like you're insecure about whether you're worthy of him, he's insecure about if he's worthy of you. The flirting, though, he wouldn't mind too much. Azul loves your praise, as it means that you find him attractive enough to talk to him that way. This poor man has such serious body issues that it's ridiculous, so if you flirt with him too often, he won't think it's genuine anymore and that you're making fun of him.

🐙  With Azul it's probably just a spur-of-the-moment outburst mixed with his stress and insecurity type of thing. In absolutely no way did he mean to direct this outburst at you, you just happened to be the straw that broke the camel's back, and like a shell on the beach, all his reason was swept away by the tide. He's the kind of guy who bottles all of his stress and grievances and your actions happened to make him reach his breaking point and everything just came out all at once. Azul likely just yelled at you to leave him be and get out of his office; fleeing to his octopot in regretful tears once you left the room and not coming out for days until he could get himself together again. He had to be coaxed into eating by Jade and Floyd due to how bad he felt for blowing up on you.

🐙  This man is distraught; he is beside himself with grief, regret, and shame. It takes all of Azul's willpower and the somewhat aggressive coaxing of the tweels (mostly Floyd threatening to bite off one of his tentacles and send it to you as an apology gift) to get him to finally leave the safety and comfort of his octopot and go to knock on your door. As soon as that door opens, he goes full-on into apologizing profusely and explaining that while what you did irritated him a bit he in no way meant to direct all of his pent-up stress toward you and that your actions just happened to open the floodgates for him. Azul would be in tears by the time he finished speaking, praying that you wouldn't leave him because of this incident. If you forgive him, he cries in relief and if you don't, although he's sad, he understands and promises that he'll do everything in his power to win back your trust in him and make sure that this never happens again.

🐙  Azul will explain to you about his insecurity with his body and his fear of making you dislike him and his appearance. However, once he hears about your insecurities, he's kind of shocked; he was so caught up in his own self-loathing that he didn't even notice yours! Be assured that Jade locked you both in his office and didn't let you both out until you worked out a plan to condole the both of you of your worth to each other. You and Azul had fallen asleep in each other's arms by the time Floyd remembered that you were being held captive in there and opened the door. He took blackmail photos.

🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚•♡•🐚

“Øjesten*, I… I apologize for my outburst; I'm just- I don’t like- ahem… ah… I have no excuse. You know how I feel about my appearance, I just didn’t want you to be disgusted with me. I’m sorry.”  

 🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

👑  Vil lives for being appreciated. Whether it's through actions, words, objects, services, or just being admired; he loves it! However… there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. He loves you, but damn, he barely had any time to himself before getting with you, but now? It's not that he won't make time for you, he definitely tries, but he just has so much on his plate all the time. With managing his beauty routine, the dorm and its students, school work, modeling, singing, acting, keeping up his media appearances, and his one-sided rivalry with Neige, this man is BUSY. And that's not even mentioning the overblots that keep popping up out of nowhere; sorry hun, you're just going to have to squeeze in when you can or be okay with stopping yourself at just being near him as a way of spending time until he can fix his schedule. On the subject of flirting, though… yeah, don't even bother, but at the same time, yes, compliment him. Vil, being himself, has heard pretty much every compliment, praise, and risqué remark under the sun; you need to be very creative, or he'll probably just roll his eyes at you. If you do it too often, he'll get annoyed and probably ask if you have something better to do.

👑  Okay— I’m just going to cut this off right here- Vil is the type of person to set his boundaries with you immediately, so, at the very start of the relationship, you would know what to do and what not to do. However, if you end up doing it anyway (which would likely just be you forgetting about it or you're so stressed that it left your mind momentarily), there lies the problem.  If you did it after Vil already initially told you he didn’t like it the first time, he would just stop you, explain why he doesn’t want you to do it, and ask you to remember it for next time. Another thing- this man is a confident king (after his overblot), so he can smell your insecurity from a mile away. It will be addressed by him PERIOD. There is no way out of it- it WILL happen, I'm sorry. Either your insecurity will be gone quickly or your relationship will; it's one or the other, I implore you to just cooperate with him. Vil isn’t playing these games with you right now.

👑  I mentioned it earlier, but Vil will sit you down and address your insecurity with him; he's not the type of person to just let this issue go unsolved. Given his insecurity, however, he'll be very understanding of how you feel. The feeling of being less than others is something that Vil is familiar with, so he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel better about yourself.

🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞•♡•🪞

“I’ll make this clear, Mein schönste Liebe*, there’s no need for this little show you’re putting on. I don’t have a lot of patience, so quickly, tell me what the problem is so that I can fix it.”  

 🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

🪲  You're giving him more affection than usual? Sign Kalim the hell up! He loves it when you hold onto him and give him physical affection! Do you want to sit on his lap? Sure! Do you want to hang off his arm or wrap your own around his waist? Okay! Kisses and hugs? Absolutely! As for flirting, I don't think that he is too innocent to understand what you mean, but that he doesn't get it until five minutes to an hour later. A lot of times, Kalim will suddenly realize what you meant when the conversation subject has already shifted to a completely different topic. However, he has no issues with it, since he believes that flirting is just an extension of complimenting him; it's just worded in a more risqué way.

🪲  I’m going to be completely honest with you here, this boy is too kind and non-confrontational to snap at you at all, so it just wouldn't happen. If he did have an issue with your behavior he’d most likely just sit you down and explain what exactly he needed you to change and why. Kalim will leave no room for misunderstandings at all, so there would be no way to hurt feelings on either side. The only person who would possibly be upset in the situation is probably you, but that would only be because you have to find another way to cope with your unspoken insecurity. Kalim isn't the brash type, so I can’t see him losing his temper with you at any point unless you committed a heinous action or something.

🪲  Kalim would probably still apologize even if all he did was explain some things to you, he’s a person who’s very in tune with other people’s feelings, so he’d make sure that your relationship was still good after everything. He’d bring you to his room and cuddle you on his huge plush bed, covered in the smoothest blankets and softest pillows, letting you touch, feel, and compliment him all you want- but only if you let him do the same to you. Probably also ask Jamil (poor Jamil, give him a vacation) to make you both some snacks or something, Kalim won't let his baby be hungry.

🪲  You will not be forced to talk about your insecurity, but Kalim will heavily encourage it for the sake of your mental health and the stability of trust in your relationship. He wants to wait until you're comfortable enough, but he also doesn't want to wait for too long in case there's a repeat of this incident. There's also now a big concern in his heart that he made you feel like you couldn't be yourself or made you feel like you aren't enough at some point. It will eat Kalim up inside, so he'll become overly indulgent with you for some time until you sit him down and talk about it. He just doesn't want you to feel like he's being neglectful of your emotions and well-being again.

🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌•♡•🕌

“Aiyah, Rohi*, I wasn’t trying to be mean, I promise. I love you so so so much; but sometimes, even a guy like me needs a little alone time, that’s all. I would never dislike you for such a small thing.”  

 🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

💀  Eh… Idia is a very very insecure guy, but he's also incredibly antisocial and is used to being all by his lonesome besides his little brother. He likes his personal space a whole lot more than he realizes, so, to be truthful, the clinginess isn't something that will sit well with him after he has experienced it one too many times. It's mostly because it'll happen at times when he's preoccupied with something that requires a lot of his attention; like gaming, watching anime, or reading manga/lite novels, and he gets irritable when he's interrupted. On the side of excessive flirting, however, he'll dislike it not just because he thinks you aren't being genuine; but also because the topic makes him uncomfortable. As mentioned already, Idia is not a social person, thus being on the receiving end of something like that is way out of his comfort zone. Doing it excessively will only make him even more uncomfortable, as he thinks that you don't care about his feelings on the matter when it's obvious he dislikes it.

💀  Idia is a quiet, shy, and non-confrontational guy, however, his annoyance can quickly overpower all of that if it builds long enough. Once he's reached the end of his patience, he doesn't bother to be careful and think about what he says. It's most likely that instead of targeting your appearance or status, he'll go for the things that you're most sensitive about. Keep in mind that during all of this, he's absent-minded; his mind doesn't register exactly who he's talking to and what he's saying before he opens his mouth while his eyes continue to stare at whatever he is doing on his monitor setup beforehand. However, once Idia realizes just what he said to you he's in absolute shock at himself; yes, he'd expect himself to behave that way to other people, but to you? He would never do it intentionally… Honestly, though, he'd be more upset that you aren't comfortable enough to act like yourself around him than anything else.

💀  Similar to Azul, Idia regrets his words immediately; he beats himself up about it as well. How the hell did those sparky comments he had in his head slip through his lips? He thought he had more self-control than that! Seriously though, the first thing he does after he realizes that he said all of that outlook is call you. When and if you don't pick up, he sends you a few texts apologizing straightforwardly and explaining that he was upset about a lot of things and took it out as well as the fact that he's on his way to your dorm to speak with you in person. Once Idia's at your door and when and if you open up, he'll hug you and profusely apologize, likely putting himself down as well so that he can hurt himself as he did you. It's up to you if you want to stop him, but just know that the self-depreciation with continue to ratchet up in severity as time goes on; his insecurity and self-doubt will be on full display to you to let you know that you can show him too.

💀  You know how Idia does online classes or stays in his dorm and uses his tablet instead? You can do that too! The both of you can attend class remotely and cuddle while you do your class work or listen to lectures. He can lay his head in your lap while he's watching anime or reading his novels and he can sit you in his lap while he's gaming. Surprisingly though, Idia even suggests going out and visiting cat cafes together or going to a secluded place outside and listening to an audiobook. He's willing to change up his routine and step out of his comfort zone to make sure you know how much he loves you. He would do anything for you– well… almost anything, just give him a bit more time to work up the willpower.

🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱•♡•🔱

“I… You know that I know what It's like to feel… like you're not enough. You don't– Y‐you know you don't have to pretend with me right? You can just be yourself when it's the two of us, P-psychí Mou*.”  

 🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

🐲  It depends on the place, the amount of people nearby who those people are, and his mood. As you know Malleus craves to be included, acknowledged, seen, and just to be given affection. This man is touch-starved to the max– but… he is still the prince of Briar Valley and must display a certain appearance to those who aren't close to or familiar with him. He'll allow small displays of affection out of the cover of his or your dorm room; things like holding hands, holding onto his forearm as you walk, briskly kissing each other's hands or cheeks, laying your heads on the other's shoulder, and other small but loving gestures. As long as you keep the more intimate actions away from prying eyes it's fine. As for flirting, Malleus also doesn't mind, but the same rules still apply. So long as you don't repeatedly show too much to those he doesn't wish to show your relationship to, he's happy as a dragon swimming in gold.

🐲  Malleus isn't the type of guy to snap at others, he confronts conflicts head-on if they pose an issue. However, if you do irritate him enough, he'll likely tell you that the both of you will have to take some time apart while he thinks about your relationship and what it means to the both of you. For him, crossing the boundaries that he has set is a violation of trust, respect, and understanding, and he needs to evaluate whether or not you're taking his thoughts, opinions, and feelings seriously. During your break, Malleus will avoid you, he'll greet you in the halls with a nod and carry on, there will be hardly a drop of affection from him until he's thought. He loves you, but for him, relationships are a very serious thing, and if you aren't respecting his boundaries, does he want to stay in a relationship with you?

🐲  He's not apologizing as there was no real wrongdoing on his part. However, if you felt hurt by his actions, he would calmly sit you down and carefully explain why he did them and follow that up by telling you that he felt hurt by your actions and he expects an explanation from you as well. Malleus is a patient and forgiving man, his life will stretch on for centuries and you and the relationship that the both of you have is a small but unforgettable part of that life. He doesn't want memories of a relationship with poor trust and communication between the participating parties; it just isn't worth it for him. Once you and Malleus have everything laid out on the table, he'll ask you to make sure to remember what he told you and that if you ever feel insecure in the future, simply talk with him and he'll talk you through it.

🐲  After you're very civil and diplomatic discussion of the ins and outs of your relationship, Malleus writes up a plan for the both of you. He lists the things that you both aren't comfortable with as well as things that you require and reworks his and your daily schedule around it. He does address your insecurity though, apologizing for making you feel like you aren't enough for him and making you feel like your relationship isn't important. Malleus loves you very deeply, and he wants to make sure that the two of you stay together in a happy relationship for as long as possible. He wants you to be a part of his family for as long as you love him, so he'll compromise as much as he needs to.

🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉•♡•🐉

“I have made you feel as though you cannot be your true self at some point in our union and that won't do at all. You are Mon Raison D'être, without you, I do not have the will to carry on, I beg for your forgiveness.”  

 . . .

❝𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞-- 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝕴 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊-- 떨리는 지금도 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊-- 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖆 𝖙𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴'𝖒 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞, 𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖍𝖞~❞

 *¹ ‘Nakupenda, Wangu’ translates from Swahili to mean ‘I love you, Mine’ with ‘Mine’ being a possessive term of endearment usually accompanying a sentence like ‘I love you’, though it can be used by itself.

*² ‘Øjesten’ roughly translates from old-fashioned Danish to mean ‘The apple of my eye’.

*³ ‘Mein schönste Liebe’ translates from German to mean ‘My Most Beautiful Love’, though if you took off the last word, ‘My Most Beautiful’ can still stand on its own as a term of endearment.

*⁴ ‘Rohi’ translates from Arabic to mean ‘My Soul Mate’; calling someone ‘Rohi’ means that you love them longer than your life as they are your soulmate.

*⁵ ‘Psychí mou’ translates from Greek to mean ‘My Soul’’

*⁶ ‘Ma Raison D’être’ translates from French to mean ‘My Reason for Being’ which is usually used only to express the deepest love and passion.

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[cxffecoupx]

our little thing

chwe hansol + bickering over which christmas movie is superior wc: 672 warnings: vernon being a cutie, gets a little emotional at the end (i think) author's note: todays exam was shit. this was made in a haste. please bear with me (me for the 23456th time). but i kinda like it a little. also basically i've tweaked the prompt a little i guess. but this was the general idea. hope you like it <33 winter wonderland masterlist

"sol, stop sulking; it's been more than an hour now!"

hansol just huffs once more before crossing his arms across his chest and looking away. you walk over to him to sit beside him.

"it was just a silly debate, non. i didn't even mean it that seriously."

"silly?! you mean to tell me, that movies are silly?!" he mocks a hurt expression before pressing his palm to his chest to drive his point home. you can only roll your eyes at this drama queen of a boyfriend.

two hours ago, vernon posed a question that he explained was 'in the spirit of the holidays'.

"what's your favourite christmas movie?" he asked while you were looking at decoration ideas through pinterest for seungcheol's christmas bash.

you actually had to judge him for that. for asking you that question, when he very well knew the fact that you were: 1) not a movie person, and 2) not a holiday person (two things that emotionally hurts vernon every time you express it, he claims).

so without much thought, you say what could have been the worst answer anyone could ever give to a movie person who likes the holidays:

"i dont know; i never really cared."

vernon swears he heard something break into a million pieces at that moment. if he were half as dramatic as his best friend seungkwan was, he'd have faked a faint and fell to the floor with his hand to the forehead (you say this in detail because this has happened before - when you answered the same way when he asked what your favourite christmas song was).

you thank whoever is up there that your boyfriend is nonchalant.

but this answer was enough for your stoic boyfriend to pout (a pout!! that you has to resist kissing), and move to the other end of the couch, far away from you, with the same worked up expression as right now.

for a whole two hours, he stayed huffing and puffing across from you.

you try to get him to look at you, but when that doesn't work, you climb onto his lap and hold his face between your hands. his face felt cold to the touch, nose a pretty pink and lips still in a pout.

this time, you don't resist your urge to kiss.

you lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips. you could feel him melt under you, leaning into you while trying to deepen the connection. when you pull away after some time, he rushes to chase your lips. you place a finger to his.

"sol," you take a breath and continue.

"i've never really celebrated the holidays before. i mean, we did have some quality family time during the meals, of course. but we've never shopped for ornaments, or decorated the tree and put up a star. i've never sat down with them to watch christmas movies."

you smile when you notice his nose become even red, and smooch it.

"so, i've never really found the appeal to it. i'm grateful for all the holidays i've had, i really am. but there are just some things i silently wish for at times."

he takes a deep breath and pulls you in for a hug.

"let me fulfill that wish for you. we're a family, you and i. we can make new traditions, you know? i've watched a lot of holiday movies, we can watch them together ever year. make it special with some wine, or some hot chocolate. some caramel popcorn. a warm blanket around us."

he pauses to smile before going on.

"and you'll fall asleep in the middle of it, but i won't wake you up because then i'll get to have your share of the popcorn too. and i can tease you about it till the next year, when we do more things to tease each other about."

vernon presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

"you and i can slowly make it our little thing, just like you've wanted."

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

[thighguys]

Phan Fic Recs!!

here's a bunch of my absolute favorites for anyone who needs a distraction from the election <3 i will make a second post with shorter ones as well, this post will just be fics that are over 10k

Inheriting Love by Fictropes (22k)- Dan is a lawyer who executes wills in a small town in the English countryside, and Phil's aunt leaves him a house. One of the cutest fics I've read recently tbh, lots of banter and cows<3

Silver Arrows to the Heart by @evermorepeyton (137k, WIP)- How could i POSSIBLY make a rec list without including this masterpiece??? Dan and Phil are Formula 1 drivers, chaos ensues<3 sooooo much fun (and there are some really beautiful cool women in there too, just as a treat)

dancing on the blades (you set my heart on fire) by kishere (123k)- Dan is an amateur figure skater who scores a spot at the famous Lester training gym, where he meets the legendary Phil Lester and of course they fall in love... this one has sooo many cute fetus moments and wonderful cameos from Kath<3 absolutely love it

Like a Bowl of Oranges by cloej88 (@bitchslapblastoids) (47k)- Phil is a filmmaker looking to amplify queer stories in the media, Dan is a ghostwriter who's been writing a memoir on the side, you can guess what happens next. very VERY fun fic, lots of drama and lovely reflection, as well as the softest scenes between them. love this one (and the author :3)

The Odd Uneven Time by @yikesola (20k)- A 2009 fic from Phil's perspective, falling in love with a boy over the Internet. Absolutely WONDERFUL vibes, so so so cute (and it probably happened in real life ahaha)

Live Incidentally by yikesola (37k)- Phil makes novelty t-shirts and Dan buys them :) really funny, also some great Lester family moments

The Pianist Everyone Is Talking About... Is My Husband by @natigail (25k)- Dan is a famous pianist, Phil plays his songs on the radio, but nobody knows that they're actually married. Lots of chaos ensues, crazy fangirls can feel super represented, and Dan laughs at Phil about it all<3 this fic is so funny lol, highly HIGHLY recommend

Kick Me While I'm Down by jerserker (14k)- Dan and Phil join an adult kickball league! Phil just wants to make friends, and Dan... kicks everyone's asses <3 Really funny competitive Dan, fun times honestly :)

missing the obvious by Fictropes (14k)- Dan plays videogames in an anonymous Discord server at night, and during the day he goes to his boring office job and hooks up with his coworker Phil in bathroom stalls... I wonder how these two things could possibly be connected...

Our House by sierradeux (50k)- Dan is a real estate agent, Phil is a Youtube house flipper, they team up to cohost an HGTV renovation special and fall in love. With the house, obviously. But also with each other <3 this is one of my favorites guys I think it should be required reading for everyone on phannie tumblr

maybe this christmas by blackbirddan (13k)- it's November, im allowed to rec christmas fics now, right??? anyway, this one is HUGE for fans of the Lester and Howell families, just so so so soft and sweet and awesome<3

Strictly Come Dancing but make it GAY by natigail (176k)- i mean this one has a pretty self explanatory title... read for super hot dancer Phil, awkward celebrity Dan, and so so so many beautiful outfit and dance descriptions :3 seriously, I wish I could watch this season irl :( this is for sure in my top 3 fics of all time to be so honest

they grew up so nicely, didn't they? by natigail (15k)- Cornelia pov on meeting the boy Phil brought home, and then throughout the years. SO CUTE!!!!! really big for fans of outsider pov (me)

okie dokie<3 i will be making an under 10k rec list as well, so be on the lookout for that one!

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

The Physicality of Sauron x Galadriel: Cosmic Connection and Physical Attraction

We already heard the expression “cosmical connection” a million times, and even I already discussed that in this post. Expressions like “higher beings” and such have been used by the actors and show producers to describe Sauron and Galadriel’s connection.

And, then, we have this iconic moment:

What does this “cosmic connection” means? Both Galadriel and Sauron/Mairon are immortal spirits. Mairon, as a Maia, is one of the Ainur, and one of the forces who first shaped the world, alongside the Valar (Ainulindalë or “Music of the Ainur”). He’s ancient, being around since the Days before Days (before the world was created).

Galadriel was born during the Years of the Trees, thousands of years later. And she’s of one the Children of Ilúvatar, an Elf. Her grandparents were among the first Elves created by Eru to live in Valinor.

What’s the difference?

Mairon belongs to the Unseen world, because he is, up and foremost, a spiritual being. And like all Maiar and Valar, he can choose his physical form (Halbrand, Annatar, etc.) in the Seen world. And he’s not bound to it, but these forms are all the same spirit. Hence the big focus on “Halbrand is Sauron” in Season 2, and even Charlie Vickers said many times in recent interviews how he wanted to show that continuity between both characters in his interpretation of Sauron in Season 2.

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, and cannot chose her physical form. She’s bound to the one she was born with (in this sense, Elves are pretty much like Men, who are also Children of Ilúvatar). In the Third age, Galadriel can move between the Seen and Unseen world, but that’s not the case when she and Mairon first meet.

Let’s see what happens when Maiar and Elves fall in love:

Melian and Thingol

In the Valaquenta, we were introduced to some Maiar of interest. Melian was one of these. She’s a Maia to Vána (Vala of preserving youth and of fauna and flora on Middle-earth, also known as “Queen of Flowers”) and Estë (Vala of healing and purveyor or restful sleep). Melian dwells on the gardens of Lórien, and has a magical voice, great wisdom and was beloved by all. Birds, especially nightingales (her signature friends) surround her at all times. Around the time the Elves are created by Eru, she ventures across the Sundering Seas and arrives on Middle-earth.

Centuries later, the Teleri are the third or the Elf clans (alongside the Noldor and the Vanyar) to take the Great Journey, from Valinor to Middle-earth. Their leader, Elwë (Thingol) has the habit of wandering the woods by himself. One day, he ventures a forest called Nan Elmoth, in Beleriand. And there she meets Melian, and he was absolutely smitten.

“Enchantment” falls on him, and when he actually hears Melian’s voice, it’s all over. Her song fills “all his heart with wonder and desire.” And this is before he actually sees her: when he finally does set eyes on her, he’s at awe, because the “light of Aman” is reflected in her face.

Love overtakes Thingol, completely. He takes Melina’s hand, and “straightway a spell is laid on him.” Suddenly his plans (to reunite with his friend Finwë, to lead his people to Valinor, to dwell again in the light of the Two Trees) just disappear. He forgets everyone and everything. Thingol and Melian just stand there, looking at each others’ eyes, hands clasped, and perfectly still, for (according to some sources) 200 years. The trees grown tall around them. And no one knows Thingol is there, so his people search for him in Beleriand, in vain.

Since this event seem so over the top, many speculate that an actual spell, indeed, fall upon Thingol, even thought Tolkien gives no indication of him being “enslaved” or joining with Melian against his will. Anyway, one theory is that this meeting was orchestrated by Eru himself, because many key events happened because of it. Meaning, they were “doomed” to meet and fall in love:

Thingol and Melian will go on to establish the first of the organized Elven kingdoms of Middle-earth, in Beleriand, and rule it as Queen and King: Doriath (and their people are known as the “Sindar”);

They will have a child, described as “fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar that ever was or shall ever be”: Lúthien, who would help in defeating both Morgoth and Sauron in the future.

In order to be with Thingol (= have sex with him), Melian retained her physical form, and became bound to it after conceiving a child with him. Meaning she couldn’t access the Unseen world, anymore (= return to her true spiritual form).

“Rings of Power” created a parallel of Thingol and Melian’s first meeting with Galadriel and Mairon, throughout Season 1:

Then an enchantment fell on him, and he stood still; and afar off beyond the voices of the lómelindi he heard the voice of Melian, and it filled all his heart with wonder and desire.

He forgot then utterly all his people and all the purposes of his mind, and following [the sound] and was lost

But he came at last to a glade open to the stars, and there Melian stood; and out of the darkness he looked at her, and the light of Aman was in her face. She spoke no word;

[…] but being filled with love Elwë came to her and took her hand,

[…] and straightway a spell was laid on him so that they stood.

[…] thus while long years were measured by the wheeling stars above them; [not only are they outside, but Galadriel armor has a star sigil – and, no, this is not Fëanor’s sigil, it’s a different design] 

[...]; and the trees of Nan Elmoth grew tall and dark before they spoke any word

Like Thingol and Melian, there is no need for words between them. They look into each others’ eyes and feel it (“I’ve felt it too”). This makes it hard for the audience to understand what is happening between them, but it is what it is.

However, I think this was *the moment* when they truly saw the extent of their mutual feelings for each other; when their souls are merging due to being bound together (via Morgoth’s crown). Which explains their reactions here: Galadriel is shocked, and Mairon is in happy disbelief. “Wait- you’re actually in love with me?”

Galadriel thinks Sauron is evil incarnate, she’s not shocked because he stabbed her, come on.

Which, again, explains this expression over here. This is pure joy, and he has tears on his eyes: Mairon believes that Galadriel is about to join him, and they are going to run into Mordor the sunset together.

Cosmic connection and Physical attraction

Galadriel belongs to the Seen world, the same as Thingol. But their Maiar pair, Melian and Mairon, are from the Unseen world. Meaning: are these connections only spiritual (“cosmically”) or they have a physical component (“lust”), too?

We know that Thingol and Melian went physical with theirs, because they had a child together. Since Thingol is from the Seen world (and cannot access the Unseen world) he’s both a physical and spiritual being (Elf) but he’s only spiritual after the death of his physical body. The same with Galadriel.

Both Maiar and Valar are capable of feeling love and lust in Tolkien lore. We see this not only with Melian, but with all Valar couples. We also see Melkor/Morgoth lusting after Lúthien when he saw her dancing for him (this implies a very physical sentiment).

Then Morgoth looking upon her beauty [Lúthien] conceived in his thought an evil lust, and a design more dark than any that had yet come into his heart since he fled from Valinor. Thus he was beguiled by his own malice, for he watched her, leaving her free for a while, and taking secret pleasure in his thought. Lúthien dances for Morgoth on his Dark Throne [before she puts him and all the host of Angband to sleep with her magic singing]

In other works describing this episode, Tolkien goes on using words like “lust”, “hunger”, “blinding thrist”, “pleasure”, and stressing the importance of Morgoth trying to reach out for Lúthien with his hand (= he wants to touch her). Meaning, there is a real physical element at play here (even if it’s evil and diabolical).

Mairon himself got pretty “touchy” with Galadriel back in Season 1. This is not random, and this implies the connection between them was not only “cosmical”; Mairon, a spiritual being, wanted to touch Galadriel, meaning, there was as a physical element/attraction there, too.

We also saw this with Mirdania in Season 2, the she-elf of Eregion who reminded him of Galadriel, and was used as a plot device for the audience to see that Galadriel is always on Mairon’s mind.

Meaning: yes, Mairon wants to “shake the sheets” (or the table forge) with Galadriel. It’s not only “cosmical” or “spiritual”. He desires her, on a physical level, too.

Mairon, the Maia of Aulë

To understand the physical attraction, we need to go back to the beginning of Mairon himself.

Mairon was created by Eru as a Maia of Aulë, the Vala of smithing and handiwork. He was among the most powerful Maiar, and the purest one, too. Eru created him to be good and loyal, but also to love several things: crafting and creation (smithing), beauty, order and perfection, and to dislike wastefulness. These were, most likely, Mairon’s contributions to shape the world in the Ainulindalë.

Melkor/Morgoth used Mairon’s love of order and perfection to corrupt him, and turned it into an obsession with domination and control. Morgoth corrupted his goodness and loyalty into evil and treachery (turning him into “the great deceiver”). His love of beauty corrupted into ugliness, by the breeding of the Orcs. Mairon’s greatest virtues became his downfall.

And who better embodies the qualities of “beauty” and “perfection” than Galadriel herself? Her beauty is the stuff of legends, and everyone is at awe when they first meet her. Her very gold/silver hair inspired the most legendary jewels in existence: the Silmarils. The light of the Two Trees of Valinor shine on her hair and eyes.

We also see Galadriel connected with “smithing”: she’s the object of the love and lust of the two legendary Elven smiths: Fëanor and Celebrimbor (Brimby in Tolkien lore, not in “Rings of Power”). Fëanor was inspired by how the light caught her hair to create the Silmarils; and he asked her for a few strands of hair, three times, and three times she denied him. In the Third age, Galadriel would gift strands of her hair to Gimli, a Dwarf, a Child of Aulë (the Dwarves were created by Aulë himself; another connection to smithing and to Mairon’s original Vala).

Yes, "Rings of Power" really went there. All the paralells.

Galadriel is also connected with power, something Mairon liked from the beginning, too (which caused Melkor to target him and get him to his side). She's not only power-hungry, but she's powerful, herself, and will only grow in power as the years go by. She's a natural leader, proud and rebellious; she was born to rule (literally, because her father was High King of the Noldor in Valinor, she’s an actual princess).

Just like Thingol and Melian!

Galadriel was also a pupil of Aulë and his wife Yavanna, back in Valinor. Which means, that if Mairon wasn’t corrupted by Morgoth/Melkor and he didn’t betray the Valar, they would have met, then. And what would have happened? Galadriel would never marry Celeborn, in the first place, that’s for sure (they met on Middle-earth, not in Valinor). And if sparkles happened in Middle-earth, in the most antagonist of scenarios (with Mairon already corrupted), OG Mairon and Artanis (Galadriel’s original name) meeting would set Aulë’s forge on fire. Artanis would have the most enviable jewelry collection in all of Arda. Because Mairon would gift her and worship her, nonstop: I will place crown(s) upon your head. I will never rest until all Arda had been brought to its knees, to worship the light of its Queen.

The “what ifs” don’t stop here. Because Artanis and Mairon power couple would parallel Yavanna and Aulë, too. Yavanna, Aulë’s wife and queen, “Queen of the Earth”, physical form is described: “in the form of a woman she is tall, and robed in green (…) crowned with the Sun; and from all its branches there spilled a golden dew upon the earth.”

Wild how “Rings of Power” already went there. Several times:

In fact, the first regal outfit we see Galadriel wear in "Rings of Power" is a teal (greenish-blue) cape and a gold dress. And she's wearing a gold flower crown. All hail, Queen Artanis, stronger than the foundations of the earth? Interesting choice of words, because Aulë created the "foundations of the earth" (= mountains).

In 2x02, we see Galadriel planting flowers, while wearing green and with a gold leaf crown on her head (as she was meant to be):

How could Mairon not love her? That’s the real question. Galadriel is the materialization, the physical form, of everything he was designed to love. And she can’t change her physical form, mind you. She belongs to the Seen world.

And this was probably the reason why Eru brought them together, in the first place: for Mairon to recall his original purpose. And probably to rub on his face what he lost for being a evil b*tch and side with Melkor. Galadriel is already bound to another (Celeborn) in the eyes of the Valar and the Eldar. The only way to “undone” that is for the Valar themselves to give permission.

[telanadasvhenan]

thinking more about the psychological aspect of solavellan, and before I start, I'd like to stress that this is NOT CRITICAL of it, I actually think it's what makes part of the dynamic interesting. My word isn't the be all and end all, however, this is just my musings on the topic :] Also, REALLY long post! so, more under the read more lol

From Lavellan's point of view, I would personally struggle to see her trusting another lover or close one again for a long time, if ever again. I don't really think people ever talk about the real impact of the things she goes through, or what solas put her through, and the hurt as a result of it. The relationship is never defined between the two of them, it's always spoken about in vague undetermined words from their companions and poetic elvish between the two of them. Are they lovers? companions? partners? it's really up to the player. Leliana says that "you were close", Sera says Lavellan is "in it." Vhenan means home, heart, it's not a word said lightly imo and he tells you he loves her by their second kiss. It's never an official thing, so how secure can Lavellan truly feel?

This could go both ways when it comes to the break up. Crestwood, as a scene, is so interesting to me because the first portion seems like a man brought to his knees by weakness for the woman he loves. The two of them never cease to touch, fingers entwined, shoulders brushing, skin to skin. It's so reminiscent of how Lavellan matches his Hallelujah cadence. They're two parts of a song singing together. It's a gorgeous scene and it's understandable how so many are angry at how it ends because the whiplash between how it starts and what it leaves you with is severe. Imagine this from lavellan's shoes.

You're desperately in love with someone at odds with your people, who is wonderful and enticing and smart. Loving solas feels like loving the whole world, like being free and connected with the stars. But you don't know what this is. And, if you thought you did, how far can you presume? Is Lavellan always on edge, scared to love him deeper and richer than he loves her? or is she in a false sense of security, assuming his affection is forever hers. So when he not only breaks away your faith and trust in your history, plus potentially the vallaslin, she is clearly deeply upset. This isn't a minor fact that simply can be swept aside. The vallaslin is important. And Solas, even with the best intentions, has hurt her. He knows it and there's a reason why he apologises (bc he wimped out on the real truth). How much more does he know about her people that he has refused to tell her or kept from her by omission? Can you imagine the embarrassment, the utter humiliation of that secret? how many memories of them together where she replays his distaste for her people in her mind, knowing that he has access to knowledge that could change her perception of her past? Its ALOT. and thats even before the breakup.

Solas is not kind about the break up. It's rushed (impulsive to me) and doesn't do their connection justice. His composure cracks in places and it's very unlike him. It absolutely blindsides the player, so imagine being in Lavellan's place, AFTER THE VALLASLIN? personally, I wouldn't have been able to function. I half suspect that a sad, calm Lavellan is also in shock or disassociation. Because how else do you cope? The lack of communication between them alone is enough to raise my eyebrows. He promises answers. He confides that she saw through his mask and doesn't tell her what was real, and what was fake. He has given her a kernel truth whilst keeping her in the dark. Everything he told her could be a false, imaginary polite mask or it could be the truth. Where does it end? Where does he begin? Where does she stand?

I don't know if everyone has experienced what it's like to be ghosted or for a friend to simply disappear one day, but it changes you. I say this as someone who has both been avoidant as well as anxious, but you never recover. Someone disappearing like that makes you doubt any reassurance that people won't just evaporate from your life. So when Solas just disappears, the game's single conversation with Leliana feels a little lacking to me. I understand that they can't really dedicate a lot to it, I get that, so I'd like to fill it in. At first, it's search parties. Solas wouldn't just leave her like that. He promised her answers. He started another mural just before they left for corypheus. He didn't intend to just leave, surely.

Days, weeks and months pass. The question is worse than the truth. Is he dead? Did he use them? Was he being truthful when he spoke to her in those ruins, or another polite mask he could hide behind? Is it better if he's dead or better than he didn't deem her worthy enough to even say goodbye? We, as the players, obviously know this isn't true, but she doesn't know that. Does your lavellan assume the worst and be overcome with grief that her one love, her heart, her home, was nothing more than a lie of omission? or is there anger there at his betrayal of her trust once more? I seriously doubt it was easy to forget or dismiss. That kind of disappearance ruins your trust with people. Something. Anything would have been enough.

Again, this is all my opinion on how these emotions would play out and DEFINITELY NOT canon nor do they have to be! But I seriously struggle to see how Lavellan could even come to heal from these wounds within even a two year time skip. By the time of trespasser, almost everyone has left her side. She's almost entirely alone again, save Cullen and Josie (and leliana if she's not divine). And thats okay: they all have rich lives to return to. But that must just reaffirm to her that no one will stay. She is alone. How does she trust again?

And then there is Fen'harel. Lavellan's reaction to fen'harel has always lacked the fear I kind of hoped would be there? I mean this isn't just a minor deity, this IS THE antagonist of her entire faith. I'm assuming that she's lost hope in the gods, even though it's confirmed to her that they're real, but that message has been a part of her since childhood. So learning that he is the dreadwolf, again not from him, but from the fragments of his past must cut her deeply.

Her love was never who he said he was, she knows this, but who is the real man? She's never known him in a context where he can truly show her. Her love is fragmented between each identity he holds. Her trust that he is who he said he is fragments with it. The knowledge that not only has he been watching the inquisition, her, for years without a single hint that he lives or is okay must destroy her. Could you imagine how insignificant you must feel to him? And he essentially affirms to her that yes, in the greater scheme of things, his love and hers are inconsequential. They cannot matter to him because he cannot strive from his path. His indulgence was a mistake. And it's undeniably cruel. I love solas and I cannot argue that he was kind to Lavellan because he wasn't. To me, there is no way to see his actions as kind. Understandable, absolutely and definitely without malicious intent.

Lavellan learns that he loved her just as deeply, if not more. He loved her with all his heart and it did not matter. She changed him and it has only brought him more pain. He loves her too much to even allow her near him, to even give himself that weakness. They are apart from each other in an endless distance, only the two of them in the world. No one else.

Obviously, each Lavellan is different, and I've made a lot of assumptions, but I think it's worth considering. How do you love someone again after all of that? How much can you rebuild your faith after what you have learnt. Lavellan has loved a "god" (I know he's not a god, but for all intents and purposes, he has the power of a god and wears an evanuris crown.) and in turn, a god has loved her. And he left her with one last embrace that will leave its mark on her forever, then he leaves once more. Lavellan is alone.

Each love after is met with suspicion, distrust and comparison. Lavellan is entirely changed. How many pieces of her can be taken away until she is no longer herself? Each person wears a new mask she cannot determine. Where do they begin? Where can she find herself?

How lonely it must be to love someone like Solas and be at the other side of an endless distance.