#turnip sweater

[hale-no]

The Turnip Sweater

Which came first... the turnip sweater, or the dog named Turnip?

I was inspired by the trend of putting crochet/knit stuff on sweaters but wanted something a little more unusual. So I went for turnips.

I freedhanded my own little turnips out of some soft cotton yarn and a small hook. I have included the pattern at the end if you're interested.

I don't have a lot of photos of the sweater process but it was an annoying one. Big sleeves take a deceptively large amount of yarn and I ran out part of the way through. I ended up buying more but it was Fingering weight instead of DK like the rest of the sweater, so it took even longer than the main body. But eventually I finished it then blocked it too big. But in the end I think it turned out pretty nice.

Turnip pattern

Cascade Yarns - Nifty Cotton Medium 4 weight green - pink - white 3.5mm hook tapestry needle

Root: 0: ch 4 pink 1: 2sc in second st from hook; 1sc; 2sc in last st; ch1 and turn 2: 2sc in first st; sc accross; 2sc in last st; ch1 and turn 3: 6sc; 2sc in last st; ch1 & turn 4-6: 8sc; ch1 & turn 7: sc2tog; 4sc; sc2tog; ch1 & turn 8: sc2tog; 2sc; sc2tog 9: pick up white; 4sc; ch1 & turn 10: 2sc2tog; ch1 & turn 11: sc2tog; you should now have one stitch; ch1 and turn 12: sc; ch2 and pull tail through Leaves: 0: ch11 1: sc; hdc; dc; tc; dc; 4sc; ch1 & turn 2: 3sc; ch7; sc in 2nd st from hook; hdc; dc; tc; dc; sl st into center of leaves

[prawns-potion-brews]

🤲 I deploy ; a sketch dump of Turnips. That third image may or may not be backstory relevant!

[rationalisms]

currently getting back into animal crossing new horizons after not touching it for two years and man... when new horizon came out the trading community was absolutely insane in terms of price gouging and seriously unpleasant to interact with, but now that it's been three years and most people have lost interest the only people left are for the most part the chillest, nicest people ever.

i've been getting showered with gifts left and right almost daily. with every trading post i've made so far, people have just been like "hi nvm about what you're offering i can give you this stuff for free, also do you want these DIYs and do you need bells and here have some spare materials". especially as soon as they find out that i've restarted from scratch and so am currently working with jack shit for the most part. (less so after a week of incredible generosity from strangers, tbf!)

it's just really nice to get the reminder that so many people do legitimately just enjoy being nice to others with no reward and want to share what they have with others.

anyway, i can't believe they added all these new features but we still can't make custom pants! what about those of us who don't wear dresses but still want cute coordinated outfits :(

[fivestar-outlaw]

New Horizons (Park Seonghwa) (Epilogue)

Epilogue

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Words: 7.0k+

Warning(s): Mentions of reader being anxious/having anxiety, some swears, drinking, i think thats it.

SMUT (18+) WARNINGS: Multiple orgasms, oral (F receiving)/ face sitting, slight cockwarming, birthcontrol used, No condom use, PiV penetration, cowgirl yeehaw

A/N: Fucking- Finally finished the epilog. Grad school is slowly but surely killing me rn. I only had time to write this during the undergrad class im taking for credits iubgouoren. I hope yall enjoy.

Reader is implied to be living in the US bc uh TIMEZONES ARE FUCKY and i didnt realize how reliant i was on mine (PST) when looking up KST

English dialogue is italicized, Korean dialogue is not

Summary: Attempting an all-nighter while playing Animal Crossing alongside your bias, you didn't expect your turnip prices to be such a high amount... nor did you expect Park Seonghwa to actually accept your offer to sell his turnips on your island.

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You sat at your desk, phone set up for a video call with Seonghwa. You felt nervous. Tomorrow is your graduation, where you'll finally be done with this aspect of your life and will be moving onto the next step. Despite the distance, you and Seonghwa were as close as ever. You both missed each other dearly but talked as frequently as possible. 

You were a little sad that he and the rest of Ateez couldn't make it to your graduation, but you understood why. You didn't have much hope when you told Hongjoong the date and he told you he'd ask if they could. You tried to tell him not to ask since you knew they would be busy with an upcoming comeback, but he insisted he'd try. He talked to you the next night saying they had a packed schedule for that week and couldn't. You figured as much but it still made you a little sad.

You hear the tone for the video call and you quickly answer it with a smile. You see Hwa sitting there, but not in his room. You couldn't quite figure out where he was. He seemed to be wearing a loose sweater and a pair of glasses frames.

"Hello, jagiya." Seonghwa smiled sweetly, he seemed tired.

"Hello, love." You respond. "How are you? You seem a little tired."

"The week has been busy."

"Aw, I'm sorry. Are you currently at a schedule?" You tilt your head. You see him look off to the side. You can see that he seems to be hiding something, but you figure it was because he couldn't talk about anything specific related to any of the filmed comeback videos.

"Yeah, we are staying at a hotel. We are going to start filming soon." He sighs. "It was a last minute decision since filming took longer than expected yesterday. I wish I could tell you everything that went wrong but I can't."

"I'm sure it'll go better today, love."

 "Thank you, jagiya. But enough about me, jagiya, how are you? Are you excited for tomorrow?"

"A mix of excited and nervous. Excited to have my degree... nervous for whatever comes next. Nervous about walking across that stage to get that empty diploma case and not having a solid next thing waiting for me." You press your lips together and glance over to your cap and gown hanging in your open closet. The whole ordeal almost seems daunting now. "I've applied for jobs in my field but I haven't heard anything back... I doubt any will get back to me when I am fresh out of university."

"I wish I was there with you, (Y/N)." He looked into the camera with a concerned expression. "You'll exceed at whatever you do. I know you will. You are smart and very determined."

"It's probably just all the nerves." You chuckle weakly.

"Just know myself and the others are cheering for you, even if we can't be there. Which, we are still sorry for by the way."

"Don't worry about it. I'll have my family film my walk across the stage and we will take lots of pictures to send to you all."

"We look forward to it." He smiles. You hear a door opening and what you believe to be Hongjoong's voice. You couldn't make out what he said but you saw Seonghwa nod before hearing the door close. "Sorry, (Y/N), I have to go. We need to get ready for filming today."

"Don't apologize, love. You got this. I'm sure you will do great." You smile and you can just tell some of the stress he was feeling dissipate. 

"I love you, jagiya." He says softly.

"I love you too." There is some hesitancy to hang up but you bit the bullet and pressed the little red button on the call. You sigh, but feel lighter. It was like talking to Hwa helped calm your worries.

---

You stood with your family for a moment before you needed to join the rest of the graduating students. You stood with them in your cap and gown and a nice outfit underneath. You couldn't help but wring your hands together. You weren't necessarily nervous, but you did feel a little anxious from the excitement now. You felt you childhood best friend place their hand on your shoulder and they give you a calm smile.

"It's going to be fine, (Y/N)." They gently squeezed your shoulder. "I doubt you'll trip, so don't worry."

"Well I wasn't worried about tripping until now." You groan. "I'm not nervous. I just... can't stay still."

"Oh (Y/N), it's okay to be nervous." Your mother coos, rubbing small circles into your upper back. "Just think about the surprise we have planned for you."

"Surprise?"

"Hun, you weren't suppose to mention that." Your father chuckles. 

"I thought I told you all I needed was just a nice dinner at my favorite restaurant." You say softly. "I hope you didn't spend too much-"

"Don't worry about it. We wanted to get you something for such a big day." Your father grinned. You were going to argue back but heard the call for graduating students to start getting in place for the ceremony.

"Make sure to film my walk please!" You said and they nodded. Your family and your best friend gives you one last hug before you go to where you were supposed to, while they went off to grab seats.

You take a deep breath as you find your spot in line with the rest of your majors getting the same degree level as you and your roommate, who also was graduating alongside you. You smiled at some of your classmates you were friendly with and chatted with them. You were given a slip of paper with your name on it by one of your professors and you were left to wait for the ceremony to start. 

You felt your phone buzz under your gown. You were glad you picked something to wear underneath with pockets. You manage to get your phone out and you smile. All of Ateez were wishing you well and saying their congrats. San even sent a selfie of them all together, which they said was taken after they finished filming. You were glad they messaged you and made sure to tell them to get some rest since it was around 6am for them.

The line you were in started moving so you quickly put your phone away and started walking with your line. You can hear lots of chatter from other graduating students and could hear the chatter from people in the stands. You and the others stood still until you heard one of the deans call you guys to enter. You hear the crowd cheer as the graduating class enters the area. You tried to pinpoint your family and your best friend but had no luck finding them in the sea of people. You take your seat and wait for the rest of the graduate students to also take their seats as the stereotypical graduation march song plays.

The song ended when everyone was finished sitting down. Next were speeches by the college president, a provosts, and a dean whom you never personally interacted with, and then two professors spoke; one is the chair of your major which made you smile. Next were student speeches, neither person you recognized.

You gulp, watching as the rows ahead of you go up one by one as they were instructed by a professor to do so. There was the constant noise of clapping with each name, followed by a few people loudly cheering for whoever just got called. You clapped along as well, watching each person receive their diploma case from the college president and walk to the side to get their picture taken professionally.

Next thing you knew the people in your row started to stand. You quickly got to your feet and follow along to the stage. You wait, taking small steps as person by person hands over their name slip and walk the stage. You were getting closer and closer to the speakers stand.

Then, it's your turn.

You made conscious steps to the speaker, not wanting to trip. You hand them your name card and wait as the person ahead finished crossing the stage. The speaker smiled and read your name into the microphone. You start walking across stage to the president as the crowd clapped.

You hear loud cheers coming from the stand on the other side of the stage, more than what you were expecting from the three people there seeing you graduate. You finally see your parents and your best friend up on their feet, your dad and friend shouting loudly. But in the row in front of them, you see eight figures also on their feet shouting as loud as they can. Immediately you can tell it is Ateez. Even with face masks, different hats, and inconspicuous clothes, you could tell they were your boys. Plus, you can easily tell Wooyoung and Mingi's voices as they were the loudest and most distinct.

A large smile broke out on your face as you kept your tears at bay. You walked the stage with your head held high. You shook hands with the college president and took hold of the diploma case. You walked to the end of the stage and carefully took the steps down. You got your picture taken and you started walking back to your seat.

You look up at the stand when you heard your name shouted repeatedly by Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa. Each member of Ateez waved as you walked by and you made sure to wave back. You felt pure happiness in the moment.

---

When the ceremony ended and all the graduates exited the way they walked in, you immediately started making your way outside. Your parents texted saying they were waiting for you by the large oak tree. You weave your way through the sea of students and their families as fast as you could. You could see the top of the tree but you knew the trunk was still some distance away from where the ceremony was held. 

You finally breach the crowd and see your parents, your best friend, and Ateez, along with their manager. They spotted you and called your name. You immediately quickened your pace.

Wooyoung held out his arms for a hug but you passed him and immediately clung to Seonghwa. The tears you held back immediately fell as you hugged him.

"Y-You're here! I can't believe you're here! Hongjoong said you guys were busy. You said you-" You rapidly spoke.

"Slow down, jagiya." Seonghwa chuckles. He held you tightly and rubbed your back. 

"Sorry, my love." You sniffle and look to his face. Despite the black mask covering his nose down to his jaw, you can tell he has a big grin on his face. He moves a step back from you, resting his hands on your jaw. The pads of his thumbs swipe away your tears gently. "I'm so happy to see you in person again."

"I'm happy too." He carefully guided you to turn around so he could move back in front of you, his back to the crowd. He pulls down his mask and leans in, his soft lips meet yours in a loving kiss. You couldn't help but smile against his lips as it felt like world around each of you melted away. You both slowly pulled away but kept your faces close. "Congratulations. I am so proud of you, (Y/N)." He whispers and kisses each cheek, making you giggled. 

"Congratulations, (Y/N)!" Wooyoung broke the moment of peace between you both as he pulled you into a big hug. You tilt your head back and laugh, all while there rest of Ateez swarmed you for their own hugs. Your face ached from how much you were smiling.

"Seonghwa contacted us a week after you had us do that video call with him." Your mother started to explain. You remember that day well, feeling nervous for your parents to meet your long distance, idol boyfriend. But they immediately loved him and exchanged contact information; mostly just in case you got in an emergency so they could inform him. Subsequently, of course, your parents met the rest of Ateez. "They wanted to surprise you and here they are."

"Sorry I lied to you, (Y/N)." Hongjoong laughed, his smile telling you he was anything but apologetic. "Yuhno suggested the idea of it being a surprise when I ran into him before I talked it over with our company. So really, blame him."

"Hey, you could of said no, Joong-hyung." Yuhno playfully glared then set his sights on Seonghwa. "Didn't you initiate the call with her parents?"

"Yes, but Sannie and Woo also sat in on the call too." Seonghwa shot back. The group delved into a big, non-serious argument of who is to blame for the lies. You shook your head with a chuckle and went to your parents.

"Thank you for arranging this." You hug them both tightly.

"Of course, (Y/N). We could see how happy you were when we met him and how yourself you were with the rest of the group, so we knew we had to put this together for you somehow." Your father had a big smile on his face, you could see tears in his eyes. "Oh, my child is all grown up..."

"I've been grown up, dad. Don't cry, you're going to make me cry again." You chuckle, feeling that sting of tears again in your eyes. You feel arms wrap around you from behind and you knew immediately it is Seonghwa. "Did you guys settle who's fault it is, love?"

"No, but it seems everyone puts the blame back on Hongjoong." He laughs. He smiles at your parents and gives them a polite bow of his head. The rest of Ateez joined back up with your parents and your best friend. They started discussing dinner plans, you jumping in when needed for translation help.

Your smile doesn't leave your face as you lean back into Seonghwa. You could have just cheap take out with everyone and you'd be happy.

---

You said goodbye to your parents and best friend when everyone arrived back at your apartment after dinner. They wanted to let you have some time alone with Ateez. Your parents managed to reserve a private space at a great restaurant ran by a friend of your mother's. The manager went to buy snacks and drinks for the rest of you guys for tonight at a near by convenience store.

"Wow you have a nice place, (Y/N)." Yeosang compliments as he looks at the various decorations and how you and your roommate placed the minimal furniture.

"Thanks, it was a collaborative effort with my roomie. Which, be as loud as you guys want. She won't be in for a few nights since she'll be staying with her family." You smile and turn go to put leftovers from dinner in the fridge, missing the way everyone looked towards Seonghwa. "How long are you here for?"

"Just the rest of tonight. We fly back early in the morning tomorrow. We may have pulled this off but we still have busy schedules coming up." Jongho answers.

"Sorry we can't stay longer." San sighs with an apologetic smile.

"No worries, I'm happy you guys made it for today." You grin and move to sit next to Hwa on the couch, immediately leaning against him. "So I take it you guys flew in last night? Is that why you were actually in a hotel, love?"

He chuckles and nods, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. His fingers gently traced patterns on your arm. "I'm glad we got to witness this."

"Of course, I'd do the same for you guys."

"Well, if you would..." Mingi smiles as he walks in front of you, holding out several small pieces of paper for you. You gingerly take them, and look at everyone with confusion and curiosity as they surrounded the couch. Wooyoung took his spot next to you and rested his chin on your shoulder, aka, on Seonghwa's hand.

"Oh my God." You gasp as you look at each paper. They chuckled at your shock. There were several plane tickets; one to South Korea, a round trip ticket to Japan and then back to Korea, and then one back home. The next paper was a pass for the waterbomb festival coming up.

"We will email you the actual virtual tickets soon." Wooyoung said with a big grin.

"A graduation present from us and our manager." Seonghwa kissed your temple.

"This had to be so expensive..."

"Don't worry about it at all. We didn't have to pay for the waterbomb ticket and we all chipped in for the flights." Yuhno said softly from behind the couch. You felt his hand pat the top of your head a few times. There was a knock at the door and the tallest went to open the door for their manager,  who came in with two, black plastic bags and one backpack. You quickly got up to your feet and approached him with a smile.

"Thank you for all you have done."

"I should thank you for helping me keep them in line." He chuckles and hands you the plastic bags. He walks over to the couch and sets the backpack at Seonghwa's feet. "Remember, we have a flight back to Korea tomorrow. Don't drink too much. (Y/N), drink all you want."

Some time passed and everyone was lounging around in the living room of your apartment. Mingi, San, and Wooyoung took over the couch. Jongho, Yuhno, Yeosang, and their manager sat in chairs from the small kitchen table. You, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong were sitting on the floor, all while everyone watched a trashy, American reality show. You were sitting between Hwa's legs with your back against his chest while he rested against San's legs.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You fish it out and unlock it, seeing it was an email notification. You tapped the notification, though you didn't read what it was for, figuring it was a promotional thing or something. You looked up at the tv screen for a moment before taking a moment to read over the contents of the email.

Your eyes slowly widened with each line you read. You felt your heart flutter as you sit up straight. You felt Seonghwa's hands on your hips and he had a curious look on his face.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" He asks softly, trying not to draw everyones attention. He leans forward and you can feel his chest on your back again, his chin on your shoulder. You raise your phone screen up so he can have an easier time reading the email. You turn your head just enough to see his expression turn to one of shock. You felt him wrap his arms around your waist and hold you tight as a big smile broke out on his face. "Does... Does this mean...?"

"What's happening?" Sannie asked from the couch. He leaned forward as well and you pass him your phone. You can practically feel the excitement oozing from Seonghwa. San suddenly stood up, knocking into the eldest's back. He had a huge grin, his dimple prominent on his face. 

Wooyoung snatched your phone from San and you watched as his eyes scan over the screen. He then looks up at you with a big smile. "No way!"

"Care to share with the rest of us?" Mingi asked while Yeosang muted the channel. 

"Well-" San started to speak but then clasps his own hand over his mouth for a moment. He hands you back your phone and sits back down. He eagerly gestures for you to speak. You feel Hwa's hands gently squeeze your hips.

"A job I applied for contacted me and told me they were looking for fresh faces and say they see potential with my resume, my CV, and from my letters of recommendation." You beamed and everyone looked excited for you. A sea of congratulations soon followed. You kept your beaming expression and you see Hongjoong look at you.

"There is more, isn't there?" He asked, a smile growing on his face.

"The job is located in Seoul. And they are allowing me to start towards the end of the year to give me time to get my legal documents situated and to move." 

There was a moment of silence.

Then, your apartment became chaos with pure excitement. Seonghwa, Wooyoung and San already pledged themselves to help you find a place in your upcoming visit. Mingi and Yuhno express excitement for the prospect of staying over at your new place. Yeosang, Jongho, and Hongjoong already start to make plans for when you start living there. Everyone decides to have one more drink to celebrate, their manager unable to say no to such an occasion.

---

You give each member a hug as they are about to leave for the night, saying your goodbyes. You move to hug Seonghwa but he sidesteps you and moves to stand behind you. You give him a confused look while the others chuckle.

"I'm staying with you tonight, jagiya." He pecked your cheek. The others say goodnight, their manager telling him to be read by 7am, and they all quickly leave. Now, it's just you and Seonghwa. 

"That's why he brought a backpack for you." You laugh and turn to face him. You place your hands on the back of his neck and raise a brow. "You've been nothing but surprises today. I really do appreciate it." 

"Of course. I'd do just about anything for you." He smiles sweetly and leans in to kiss you. Unlike the other kisses you two shared today, this one was longer and more passionate. You can feel his lips move against yours as he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip. You smile against the kiss. Before you could part your lips, he pulls away with a flirtatious look. 

"I love you, love." He smiles at your words. He lifts his hand up and gently traces his fingers down the side of your face, sending shivers down your spine. His arms wrap around your body and he keeps you pressed against him.

"I love you too, jagiya." He brings you into another intense kiss, his tongue invading your mouth this time. You feel his fingers curl in against your back, all while your hands find themselves in his hair. He breaks the kiss once more but rests his forehead against yours. "Would you like to celebrate a little more? We don't have to go further than this-"

"I would love to." You grin. You move from Seonghwa's grasp and take his hand, pulling him to your bedroom.

The second you closed the door, Hwa is already guiding you to your bed. He lays you down on your back while he crawls over you, his lips pressed against yours. His hands grip your hips before he starts to slide them under your shirt. He shifts his leg, placing it between your thighs. His knee is just barely brushes against your core. His hands start to gently kneed your breasts over your bra.

Seonghwa starts to trail tender kisses down from your mouth to your neck. You smile at the affection and you place a kiss of your own on the top of his head. He smirked against your neck as he gently bites your skin. You feel him shift his leg that was between your legs, applying a small amount of pressure against your cunt. You let out a soft noise from the sensation and you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter.

You move one your hands down to the growing bulge in his pants. Seonghwa chuckled and sat up, taking your hand off him.

"Tonight is all about you, jagiya." He smiled softly. He took hold of both your wrists in his hand and held them above your head. "Let me worship you."

You felt a pleasant shiver down your spine again and you nod. Hwa let go of your hands and began kissing your neck again. This time his kisses and bites to your neck were more intense. You knew for sure you would have a couple of marks there. He released his hold on your wrists but you kept your arms about head. Your body is completely at his mercy and that had you excited.

You felt him press his leg against your aching core again and this time you rolled your hips to seek pleasure, causing yourself to moan.

"Good, jagiya." Seonghwa chuckles as he moves his face by your ear. You feel his lips brush against your ear before he gently nips it. He sat up and helped you up as well.

He hums softly, tracing his nose along your face before he kisses you again. He gently nibbles your bottom lip and stares deeply into your eyes. Hwa licks his lips as he leans down and scans your body with his eyes. You feel his hand take hold of your shirt and slowly lift it up and off your body. His fingers nimbly unclasps your bra and he tosses it off your body. 

Seonghwa's hands caress and gently squeeze your breasts, the pads of his thumbs were on your nipples as he rubbed small circles with them.  He hummed with a smile. "I missed these."

You chuckle softly. "You missed my boobs?"

"Yes." He moves himself so his face his close to them. "I missed all off you, (Y/N). I missed your face, your touch, your taste... I missed seeing your smile in person, I missed hearing your laugh right beside me. I miss you."

"I miss you too Hwa." You give his cheek a tender peck. You bite your bottom lip as his hands still kneaded your breasts and his thumbs applied some pressure. "Luckily I got that job. I'll be a lot closer to you by next year."

"Still feels so far away." He whispers and starts kissing your chest. He bites the skin and sucks, doing this until he reached your nipples. His mouth encompasses the pebbled skin. You bring one of your hands up to his head and combed your fingers through his hair. He sucks and gently nibbles, his tongue rolling over your perked bud. He does this to both nipples for a few moments before pulling away, a line of saliva briefly hangs between his lips and your skin. "I want to try something, jagiya." 

"What do you want to try, love?"

"Would you want to sit on my face and let me pleasure you?" His question makes your face flush with heat. 

"You'd want to do that? Are-Are you sure you want me to sit on your face?" You can feel yourself getting more wet by the second.

"Of course." He smiles sweetly. He sits up straight so he can meet your eyes easily, his hands slide down and gently hold onto your hips. "Like I said, jagiya, I missed your taste and I think you will look breathtaking doing so... Do you want to try this out with me?"

"Then... I would like to." You bite your bottom lip and smile. His face broke out in a grin and he helped you off your lap. He moves to lay down as you slip off your pants and underwear. You move yourself up the bed near his head and carefully placed your leg on the other side of his head. His hands slid up from behind your thighs and your ass to hold your hips. You hovered over his face, looking down at him between your legs. You were a bit hesitant to lower yourself down though. "Are you sure-"

You didn't even get to finish your question when you felt Seonghwa pull you down to his mouth. Immediately his tongue went to work against you clit. You moan, one hand bracing yourself against the wall while you bury the fingers of the other in his dark hair. A vibrator certainly worked wonders, but there is something else about his tongue. He moved his up and down against your clit before moving it in circles clockwise.

"Hwa..." You say, almost sounding breathless. He simply hums and continues his ministrations with his tongue. He nuzzles his faces against your cunt and adjust his mouth so he could lap you up. Seonghwa's tongue briefly pushes against your clit and then you feel his lips wrap around your sensitive bud, gently sucking on it. Instinctively you bite your lip to hold back your moan, making him lightly slap your ass, not enough to hurt but to get a point across. He lifts you just enough to free his mouth so he could speak.

"You said your roommate is gone for the night?" He asks and you give him a quick 'yes.' You felt his lips curl into a smile. "Then don't hold back, jagiya. It's just us."

You feel his tongue move against you again in all the right ways, making you moan again. You didn't hold it back this time and you could tell Hwa is pleased with that. He shifted underneath you and he buries his face into your cunt, he continued to gently suck and swirl his tongue around your clit. His ministrations had you squirming, slowly rocking your hips against him, and you were making all sorts of noises. 

"Seonghwa..." You whimper. You speaking his name in such a manner had him groan in pleasure. You feel him shift yet again, his grip on your hips firm. His tongue is off your clit and you feel his tongue swirl around your entrance. He penetrates you and thrusts with his tongue while his nose brushed against your swollen bud. His mouth is working wonders on your and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm. Hwa doesn't relent, keeping the pleasure going and keeping you relatively still with his hands holding onto your hips. "Fuck... Hwa I'm-!"

Your walls fluttered around his tongue. You feel your thigh muscles tighten and they press against his head. A loud noise of pleasure leaves your lips as you throw your head back. Hwa squeezes and lightly massages your hips as you climax, his tongue slowly slides out from your hole and gently licks your cunt. He waits a few moments before gently guiding you off his face. You lift a leg and sit next to his head, your back against your headboard. 

Seonghwa quickly got up, licking his lips clean of your juices though his chin and nose still shined with your climax. He sits next to you and his hands caress your legs. He smiles at you, a look of satisfaction on his face, while you came down from your orgasm. 

"You have a little something on your face." You giggle and gesture around your own chin and nose. He chuckles and you watch as he swipes his fingers over his skin and then lick them clean.

"Better?" He whispers with a slight smirk. You can tell he was trying to be sexy but he still had some of your cum on him. You giggle softly making him blush and chuckle.

"Here, hold on for a moment." You get up from the bed and head out of your room to your bathroom. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, dampened it with some water, and returned to your bedroom. You hand Seonghwa the cloth and he gives you an appreciative smile, his cheeks and ears dusted with a subtle pink. You sit back down as he cleans off his face. He sets the cloth on your nightstand and looks back at you.

You watch as Seonghwa gets off the bed. His eyes scan your body with a smirk. Slowly, he took off his shirt and slid off his pants and boxers. Both of you were completely nude and you can see just how turned on he is. Hwa gets back onto your bed and gets right up to you, his face mere inches from yours.

"I love you so much, (Y/N)." He whispers. His hand comes up and gently caresses your jaw and neck.

"I love you too, Seonghwa." You smile at him, your tone soft and full of love. He smiles back and presses his lips against yours. His kiss is tender this time around. His hand cradles the back of your head to keep you in place, but you know you don't want to pull away in this moment. Your fingers graze the skin of his bare chest. You slowly brought them up to his collarbones and then his neck.

"Hmm, I want to take this all the way, jagiya." He pauses for a moment as his eyes look down at your body and then back at your face. He smirks. "I want to hear all those lovely noises you make."

"If I get to ride you, my love." You say in a sensual tone. His smirk crumbles to a flustered look at your suggestion, but he still smiles regardless.

"Is that what you want?"

"Yes." You nod and he bites his bottom lip. Seonghwa moves and sits down, his back against the headboard now. You grin, moving to stand on your legs before you throw your leg over his lap, effectively straddling him. His hands are once again on your hips as he pulls your body against his. He has a lustful and excited smile on his face.

"Condoms? I brought some-"

"No, it's fine. I trust you and I'm still taking birth control." You smile.

You reach behind and grab the shaft of Seonghwa's cock. You carefully drag his tip through your wet folds to tease him a little. You line him up to your entrance and look at his face. He gives a small nod for you to continue and you do so. You slowly lower yourself down, languidly taking him inside you. You both let out a soft moans. You sat in his lap, your hands grip his shoulders, while his cock fully inside you and you take a moment to savor the feeling.

"Ah, you feel so good, jagiya." Seonghwa mumbles, his lips barely brush against yours. You can feel his hot breath but you didn't care. His eyes were half-closed as he stared deeply into yours. You can feel his hands caressing your hips, thighs, and ass. His length twitches inside and you can tell he is full of anticipation for you to start moving. Hwa gives you a sweet smile, which contrasts with the current, steamy situation. "Take your time. You have control right now until you want me to take over."

"Thank you, love." You whisper softy and peck his lips. You wait a full two minutes before you started moving. You take a slow and steady pace, your thigh muscles flexing as you raise yourself up and down on his cock. Seonghwa's hands firmly held your hips yet he made no effort to control your movements, he simply assisted you so you wouldn't be doing all the work. 

"This feels nice." Hwa murmurs and leans his head down, his lips pressing against your neck. You feel his teeth graze your skin and he gently nips at your neck.

"Feels s'good." You moan softly. You rock your hips at a pleasurable pace. It is a very sensual moment between you both. It was just you and him, nothing else mattered. He raised his head from your neck and pressed his forehead against yours. He looked at you with pure adoration and love. His hands slide to your lower back and then moved up to your shoulder blades. You feel his arms against your sides as he hugged you close to his chest. You still moved your hips at a slow pace. 

This is a moment of passion and pleasure, but also a moment of love and bliss.

You sunk all the way down on him and gently grind your hips against him, feeling pleasure come from your clit grazing his pubic mound. Seonghwa smiles at you, enjoying how you look getting yourself off on him. He kiss your cheek and his lips linger to you skin for a few moments. You feel his fingertips press into your back and rub small circles on your skin.

You returned to moving yourself up and down on his cock. You increased your speed, sometimes focusing on his tip and then rotating to taking him all the way. Regardless  of what you did, he was moaning and groaning at all your movements. His hands were back on your hips as you leaned away from him with your hands gripping his shoulders. You both wanted to see your faces.

You feel a coil-like sensation in your lower stomach as pleasure builds up again. Your breathing is harsh and deep, and you can feel your legs getting tired... but you wanted to keep going. Seonghwa could see and feel how you your stamina is waning. He smiles sweetly and leans forward to capture your lips in a passionate yet short kiss.

"Relax, jagiya." His voice is smooth and low. He holds your hips and stops your movements. Seonghwa then starts to thrust his hips up at a quick pace. A loud moan escapes your lips as you cling on to him. He leaned forward and nibbles on your neck while you feel one of his hands move from your hip to your pubic mound. Hwa pressed his thumb over your swollen clit and started rubbing circles.

"O-Oh, Hwa..." You whimper out. You feel that heat building up more and more inside you.

"Hng- You're amazing, (Y/N)."He moaned as well, moving his head away from your neck to stare at your face. You can see he was getting close to his own release by the erotic expression on his face. 

"I-I think... I'm going to cum again." You whisper, feeling that all too familiar feeling crawl up your legs. You looked at him with all the love you could muster. The intimacy and intense feelings all added to your impending orgasm. The way the head of his cock hit that sweet spot inside you just right and his thumb swirling and applying the correct amount pressure sent you over the edge. You lean forward with your forehead against his as a loud whine leaves your mouth, your walls fluttering around his cock.

"(Y/N)-!" He groaned, still thrusting into your cunt. He stared intensely into your eyes, chasing his own climax. His breathing grows ragged and his thrusts became off rhythm. A moan tumbles from his lips as he sloppily kisses you, thrusting one last time. You feel his cock twitch inside you as his cum coats your walls. He keeps himself fully sheathed inside you as you both catch your breaths.

"Seonghwa..." You murmur, your body slumping against his, resting your head on his shoulder. His arms wrap around you and his hands gently grip the skin of your back. You feel his warm breath fan over the back of your neck as he leveled out his breathing. Seonghwa made a noise that sounded like a mix of a sigh and a moan as he rests his head against yours.

Neither of you said anything further. Seonghwa keeps his arms tight around you while you equally clinged to him. Nothing really needed to be said in this moment, the high emotions you both shared spoke enough.

Minutes passed when you finally speak up.

"We should probably clean up and get you to bed." You whisper to him, pulling your head back to look over this face.

"I want to stay like this, jagiya." He murmurs, placing his lips on your neck. "I feel so close to you like this... "

"I know, love, but we have to be up early." Hwa groaned at this, which makes you laugh.

"Stop being right."

"Come on... let's take a shower, Hwa." He reluctantly helps you off his lap, his softening length now out of you. You both get off from your bed and you lead him out your room to your bathroom. His hands remained on your waist as you both walked and then waited for the shower water to warm up. He didn't want to let go of you just yet.

After the shower and after drying off, you both go back into your room to change into comfortable clothes to sleep in. He laid down first, slipping under the covers. When you joined him, you laugh when his arms pulled you flush against his body. Seonghwa tucks your head under his chin and he holds you firmly in his arms. You chuckle and hold him just as tightly.

"I don't want to let go of you again... this feels like it's going to be harder than when you when you visited." He says with a sigh.

"I know, Hwa, I know." You mumble, already feel an ache in your chest. "Let's savor the rest of tonight together."

There is a pause.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, Seonghwa."

Morning came too fast your liking. You and Seonghwa awoke with your limbs practically tangled. His warmth despite the temperatures warming outside is comforting in the moment. You both reluctantly got dressed and made Hwa a light breakfast.

A little before 7am, Ateez and their manager came back over to pick Seonghwa up and of course came to say goodbye. You got an earful of teasing when they see the blemishes and marks Hwa left on your neck. You hugged each member and of course your hug lingered on Hwa, with you both gently caressing each other's backs for comfort.

Goodbyes were harder this time around, but you still had that ray of optimism due to your move to South Korea. It will be rough, but with Seonghwa, the rest of Ateez, and even their manager, you knew it would be a feat you'll overcome.

Your new horizon awaits you and your life with Seonghwa seems to be on the right track.

------------

Taglist: @stopeatread @hee0soo @tridkeys @pocketjoong-reads @seonghwaddict @lelaleleb @acciocriativity @h-nji

[gumballavocadoharry]

Unjust Corporate; Jack Chambers:

*This is the 50s, so corporal punishment was around and that meant teachers were allowed to administer swats with paddles or canes then. It's unethical, but I have to be historically correct to set the scene. I do not agree with this, and it's a trigger containing: mentions of abuse, abusive childhood, student abuse, hitting, beating, some racisms, bad parenting and bad educational system. *

Mr. Driscoll. Hated by every student (and teacher) in the building. Possibly the district. 

A very strict and callous type who would punish for even the simplest infringements. Assignment was a day late- an F. One word misspelled on a paper- F. Whispering in class- a hard paddle against your backside. None of the teachers in the school used the paddle or the cane. But Mr. Driscoll did. He expected perfection from every student, despite even if their best attempts couldn't come to par. A painly thin older man with white hair, a thin pasty mustache and liver spots all over his hands. A slight slouch in his posture, but still managed to stand a solid six foot in a half.

Then he met Roger Chambers. The boy swore he hated him from day one. His name was spoken stringent against his lips. Sharp and stern looks into Roger's mischievous but innocuous green eyes where filled with this utter disgust like the way you spot maggots in rotted fruit. "ROGER! STOP TALKING!" Roger wouldn't say a word. 

"ROGER STOP DAYDREAMING AND PAY ATTENTION!" Roger would force himself out of his gaze through the classroom window and snap back to the teacher's lesson. It was during class that Roger realized he could use both hands when writing. Left and right.

Finishing the last piece of his Benjamin Franklin- using his left hand- a harsh burning sting was slapped to his wrist. "Ow!" grabbing his wrist and looking up to Mr. Driscoll. "Use your right hand, Mr. Chambers!" Tapping the ruler against his palm, Mr. Driscoll gave Roger a acrimonious glare. Tears brimming his eyes, Roger slowly picked up his pencil with his right hand; ignoring the mordant pain that was shooting through his wrist. 

The walk home from school was quiet. "Hey Roger, what did you get on that Algebra test?" Roger shrugged. "Maybe, a 56- I don't know." Susan glanced to Roger with a slight furrow. "Did Matthew Malkin give you wedgie?"

"I don't know, probably." "Did Mom and Dad jump across the moon and into a pile of turnips that shoot out raisins?"

"Yeah, probably." A laugh escaped from Susan. "Did you even hear what I just said?" Roger turned sharply to Susan, almost ringing himself out of his world. "Uh... what?" Susan crooked her head to the side. "Roger, what's wrong?" Roger scratched the side of his head. "Oh, nothing. It's just.... I have a lot of homework." Susan bit the edge of her lip and kept quiet. Letting the sound of the swishing spring wind bellow her skirt, Susan would occasionally look to Roger and then back to the sidewalk. "Hi sweeties," Alice wiped the last path of suds off the tables from the cleaner. "I'll make you a snack in just a minute."

"Thanks." Susan said, taking a seat on the couch. Roger smiled before charging toward his bedroom. His wrist brushed against his slacks, twinging the boy with pain. Roger scanned his left wrist again. A thick red welt formed in the center of a purplish-pink bruise. Roger stared at the sore. Watching it ooze from his skin like an ugly patch. Changing into a droopy maroon sweater that hovered over his legs, making them look little under the cloak of garment. Roger trollied down the stairs, ignoring the stares from his sister and mother. "Roger, you changed your shirt." Roger smiled and took a seat at the bar, reaching for the fresh baked cookies on the platter in front of him. Alice let a slight furrow arch through her eyebrows. "I got cold, so I changed my shirt." As if Roger could sense Alice's buried question. Alice raised an eyebrow. "Okay...." Roger kept his gaze on the counter. A fear slithered through him- wafting in this musky glower of already having blown his cover.

Roger perked himself up with a smile. "Sorry, if I'm coming off mysterious.... it's been a long day." Alice gave Roger a small smile. She leaned in closer, pouting her lip a bit. "Are you alright honey? Feeling okay?" Alice put her hand on Roger's left wrist and rubbed- pressuring the fore of it against the brim of the counter. Roger bit the inside of his bottom lip. "I'm fine- it's just that- my new history teacher had us doing a lot of work in class today." Alice smiled wider. Rubbing her hand against Roger's cheek, she leaned back and went back to the stove. Roger kept his stare on her a bit longer- wondering if her mind was already made up. And.... it was.

Jack came home and hour later. Roger was already at his grainy oak desk, finishing the last of his assingment. Signing the last cursive word on the paper, Roger's heartbeat sped up. A warm patch heated against the nath of his neck. A burning heat flashed through his skin. Mr. Driscoll taught history. Mr. Driscoll would fail him for one mistake. Or maybe not one at all. He hated Roger after all. He would cane his wrist again. Or berate him in front of the entire class. Roger didn't tell anyone of how Mr. Driscoll seperated his desk to the outside of the classroom for laughing too much. The memory burned deep into his brain- sauntering the grimness of how he couldn't even cry because of the passing students and teachers. Embarrassed and angry, Roger was banished to the outskirts of the class until lunch, where his desk was brought back inside, but with his crayons sprawled out over the hallway. They were swept up and thrown into the garbage when asked about them.

Roger scratched the itch by his eye. His finger became wet, letting the realization of brimming tears that trickled down his face sink in. He swallowed hard- letting the hollow of his woe slide down into his gut to loll there.

A knock on the door sounded. "Rogie?" Jack's soft voice was both a reassurance, and a parcel. Roger couldn't afford to carry a burden. His mind was weighted with Mr. Driscoll's rasping jarring voice. Jack invited himself in. He always did that when he thought the problem was big. It annoyed the children, but it would disperse with realization of Jack's love and concern. He took a seat on the bed, letting his eyes- filled with worry- bore into Roger's. "Hey bud.... you've been quiet today... everything okay?" 

"Yeah. Why, why wouldn't it be?" He frowned. "Because, you came home and didn't say anything-"

"I was tired. Mr. Driscoll piled on a lot of homework." Jack raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Driscoll?" Roger nodded. Jack rememberd Mr. Driscoll. He hated him too.

He never taught Jack's grade as a child, but when he moved to California as an adult, he found Mr. Driscoll to be the biggest prick of an educator he met. Uttering several words about him behind his back, the old man was embittered, in Jack's mind. He hated how he demanded unquestioned respect, despite never showing it back to anyone. Sometimes, even to his own superiors. Jack never forgot how in the line at a supermarket, Mr. Driscoll glared at the young ebony man, a bagger, who was extraordinarily polite and kind. His name tag read, Dan, and Jack didn't think twice about him. He just thought good business was good business. 

"I bet he steals from the registers." Mr. Driscoll snarled. Jack puncated his frown to the elderly man, who was in his early sixties at the time. "He probably has kids all over with different woman." Mr. Driscoll didn't say this to anyone but himself. But Jack heard him. He heard everything the man said. "I think he's doing a good job." Jack wished he hadn't opened his mouth. But was still glad he did. Mr. Driscoll turned around, but Jack stared straight ahead. "Respect your elders." He said before turning back towards the line. Jack towered over the man slightly. He stared deep into the back of his head like he wanted to burn holes through it. He did want to.

Mr. Driscoll turned around with a scowl over his face. "Maybe you could learn something from us elders, hm?" Jack smirked. "I think society's already beat me to it, hm?" 

"I can help the next customer!" A lady clerk yelled. Jack happily took his cart to the next line. Ringing up faster, Jack pulled an extra five from his wallet. Handing it to Dan, he smiled. "Thank you very much sir, have a nice day." Dan smiled. "You too!" Mr. Driscoll watched as Jack walked out of the store with the biggest smile across his face, before turning around to share one last smart alec smile toward the old man. 

The name sent this ping of anger through Jack. "Mr. Driscoll." He repeated. "He's your new history teacher?" Roger's eyebrows furrowed as he gave another nod. "Racist bastard." Roger gasped. "Oh! I'm sorry Roger! Don't repeat that, okay?"

"Mr. Driscoll's racist?" Jack nodded. "I know him. Don't worry it'll be okay." Roger felt reassured. A warm glow had illumentated through him like a candle in the dark night. Jack's face was set serious. Serious into this deep rigid frown. Jack turned back to Roger after staring at the specks of carpet for too long. "What did he do in class?" A cool fanned through Roger's chest. He didn't want to tell him what happened today. But he knew Jack would find out. He would come to the classroom and surveillance Mr. Driscoll like a prison guard. And he would deserve it. But it wouldn't help Roger forever. It wouldn't etch the pain from his mind, or the fear in his gut... or the twinge of heat from his bruised wrist.

"Roger?" Jack's voice softened and warm. "He.... was strict. Very strict- he always is with everyone. Even some of the teachers." Jack narrowed his eyes. "But what did he do to you?" Roger swallowed. 

"I was talking too much in class. So....." Roger looked down. Jack wanted Roger to come closer to him, but couldn't choke out the words to say so. "What did he do Roger?" His voice laced more thickly in concern. 

"He yelled at me." Roger held in his tears. But Jack could sense them. He could sense the pain snaking through Roger, while his head was held down and his voice as frail as parchment paper. "What else?" Jack knew. Roger didn't know how, but he did.

"He put my desk....." Roger choked. Tears- not even having time to brim- begin dripping onto the carpet. He looked back up with tears and a wobbly mouth. "He made me sit out in the hall because I was laughing too much!" He brokedown. "Today in class, I decided I could use my left hand to write. And I did pretty good. Mr. Driscoll- ow!" Jack perked up. Roger had brushed a particular sensitive part of his wrist against his pants. "Ow.. ow...ow." He cried. Jack hurled himself up from the bed and grabbed Roger's wrist without question.

A big welt on his wrist. Bruising and burning with pain. The sight shattered Jack's heart to a million pieces. David would whip Jack's legs with a thick belt, till welts would sprout over his little calves. Sometimes, he whip his bare back or strike a paddle against his bare bottom. Coupled with slaps across the face and a throng of curses thrown at him, the sight of Roger's wrist nearly made Jack sick. He never bragged about his disciplines- there was nothing to brag about. Who could take pleasure in being beaten senseless for pratically nothing? Some boys at his school would laugh or brag about how many beatings they took from their fathers. Jack never joined in and in fact, would judge the boys. 

"What's so great about that?" he said once. Steward Hollister looked around before piping up. "Well, hasn't your dad ever beat ya?" 

"Yeah. I just don't laugh about it. It's ridiculous and abusive..... I'd much rather take pleasure in striking him back." He said, before walking back to his locker. "Sensitive little pussy." Steward laughed along with his friends. Jack slammed the books into locker and continued to the bleachers for the rally.

Looking at Roger's little wrist- his soft little wrist that was hurting, causing his little boy to welp in pain- sent an angry shiver through his spine. A muderous desire to wrap his bulky hands around Driscoll's neck and choke the life out of him until his face was as blue and purple as the bruise forming around the welt. 

"He... caned me." Roger's voice was so little. So innocent and fragile. Jack looked into Roger's eyes before cuffing his little lanky body into a bear hug. "Oh my little baby.... it'll be okay. Daddy's here. I'm so sorry.... I'm so sorry." Jack sounded regretful, despite not doing anything. "We'll take care of the boo boo." Roger didn't mind Jack's baby puns. In fact, he wanted it. He needed it. Clinging to Jack as he took him into the bathroom, Jack smoothed an ointment onto the welt before applying some kitchen ice. Placing a gentle hand on Roger's cheek, Jack looked into Roger's eyes with unfathomable sympathy and blazing fury. "Just hold it onto the welt and the bruising will go down in no time." Roger nodded, still sniffling. Jack placed a long big whistling smooch to Roger's cheek. Then another one, then another one. He didn't want to leave Roger's side for a second and would rather hold him in the hollow of his chest, placing candy kisses onto the ridge of his forehead.

Caned. It stuck out in Jack's brain all night. He would cane Mr. Driscoll. What he did to Roger, Jack would do to him thrice as hard. Jack kept his fists balled up all night, making the knuckles stiff in the morning. Jack finally hit it.

He would surprise Driscoll. He had no idea Roger was his son... but he would soon find out. Today... in the middle of history class.

Roger was sitting quietly at his desk. Mr. Driscoll spiting out nonsense facts about the british war of whatever. "ROGER! SIT UP STRAIGHT!" 

Jack could hear the harsh address from down the hall. Storming harder up to the classroom door- Jack dressed in his navy blue office suit, neat matching black dress shoes with a very stern look- peeked through the window of the classroom. 

"Roger come up here now!" Roger gulped, taking little steps up towards Mr. Driscoll. "It's funny. It's really funny how you think class is a joke? That all these students don't deserve to learn in peace!"

"But-"

"Hush up!" Grabbing a thick wooden paddle, Roger's eyes widened. "Turn around." Mr. Driscoll's voice venomed with hatered. Grabbing Roger's arm and snatching him around, Jack barged through the door- without thinking and yanked up Mr. Driscoll's arm- dragging him out of the classroom.

He practically slammed the old man against the walls of the corridor. "How dare you!" Jack hissed. "How dare you even lay a fingernail on my son like that!"

Mr. Driscoll straightend his suitjacket. "I didn't paddle him for your information- I was about to and he deserved it!" Jack came closer to the teacher's face. "I don't care what he did or didn't do. I saw you. I'll be the one to decide how and whether my child gets punished or not!"

"I am fully qualified to do my job, sir!" "To hell with your job- you ever touch my son again, it'll be the last time, you ever touch him... is that clear?"

Mr. Driscoll squinted his eyes. "Do I know you?" Jack didn't respond. His gruff breaths puffed out like steam out of the nostrils of a dragon. "That man.... you were in the supermarket- defending that colored boy-"

"He was a man. A grown man." Jack hissed. "How dare you." His voice trailed a little. "And yes! It's me! And that's my son."

Mr. Driscoll scoffed. "No wonder. The boy never knws when to keep his mouth shut- I'd pop him if I could." Even the burning glare from Mr. Driscoll, didn't save him from being lifted by the fringed of his collar.

"You're lucky I don't break your jaw into a million pieces! If you ever take that paddle out again- then you can shove it up your ass, because that's the first place I'm gonna come looking for it!" Dropping Mr. Driscoll back to earth, feet pinging so hard against the ground, that an ache begin to radiate. Jack's deadly glare riveted the man, before he whizzed past and into the classroom.

"Roger," Jack took Roger's hand and led him back outside. "How about you and me take the day off? Just the two of us?" A bright smile fell over Roger. "Oh boy! You mean it?!" Jack bent down and hugged Roger tightly. "Of course! I thought you could use some fun after that awful day you had." Jack cooed. Kissing the side of his temple, Jack took Roger's hand- both skipping down the hall with peps in their step. 

For Mr. Driscoll, this would surely be a day that would go down in history for him. He counted that as walked back into the classroom, wobbly and red faced.

The same way he left Roger yesterday, but with more vigour. Not able to look the class in the eye. He picked the paddle from the ground and set it on his desk.

"Class dismissed." He said shakily. As the classroom emptied out, Mr. Driscoll sat his desk and started his resignation letter. Somehow, he believed Jack. And he didn't want to take that risk.

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Obscure Character Showdown FINALE

[image ID: the first image is of image is of No Significant Harassment, a shadowy figure standing behind a sleeping pink-red, fox-like creature. their green hands seem to be holding up the floating creature. the second image is of Granger, a girl with green eyes and short, wavy or curly black hair. in her hair is a red hat or ribbon. she's wearing a black turtleneck sweater, blue overalls, and a green coat. end ID]

No Significant Harassment

[NSH has beaten Akama (The Idiot (1951)), Libby Day (Dark Places), Sally Swing (Betty Boop), Shrimp (The Upturned), Oopsy Bear (Care Bears (2007 series)), Hikaru (Hikaru ga Shinda Natsu), and Diggory Graves (Hello from the Hallowoods)] They're just a silly little guy. A jokester. Significant harassment if you will. Anyway, a more in depth run down: They're a city sized supercomputer built by a Buddhist adjacent society to figure out how to transcend the 'Great Cycle' (semi-metaphorical cycle of death and rebirth) in a safer way than the previous method (submerging oneself in the 'void sea' which is a mysterious golden liquid that dissolves whatever it touches). Despite being built for this express purpose NSH never really shows a pressing interest in ascension, even cracking jokes about those who are still looking for a solution. Whether this is due to indifference, dislike of, or humor to cope with being unable to ascend is not clear and really up to interpretation. Example: NSH: I wish them super good luck in that endeavor. How is it going to happen? Have the overseers gnaw through bedrock until their entire can crashes down in the void sea? BSM: Please be respectful when speaking of the Void Sea. Grey Wind, where did you hear this? CW: I really shouldn't say. He's going to attempt some sort of breeding program. Thought you might want to know. NSH: Haha with the slimers, lizards and etceteras? Surely the answer was in a lizard skull all along! He's very flippant, but does care very intensely for those close to him. NSH: Moon? It's me again. NSH: I do not know if you are receiving these. Please signal in any way you can. NSH: I need to talk to you. I need to know you're okay. NSH: … NSH: Its difficult for us to assist you over this distance. NSH: Even more difficult for us to do anything in the midst of these tantrums. NSH: Were going to try everything that we can. NSH: Just hold on a little longer. (Context for previous convo: They genetically engineered a super organism of a slugcat (the species you play as in Rain World) to help reset his coworker/sibling after her collapse and restart her systems. He was so desperate to fix her that he accidentally messed up the slugcat's (Hunter) genetic code and as a result it became riddle with the Rot (relatively similar to aggressive cancer) :( which parallels his other coworker/siblings condition who also has the rot. ) He canonically uses he/they pronouns too! Nonbinary swag! NSH has major internet troll vibes. He has sent a data pearl of "something distasteful" to his neighbors on several(?) occasions and causes chaos. If he had access to the wider internet he'd probably be an influencer So…yeah! Vote NSH this website likes the allure of heavy machinery and stuff like that so… there you go. Kind of a blorbo. End post.

Granger

[Granger has beaten Chopfyt (Oz), Wolfman (Darkwood), Gaap Goemon (Mairimashita! Iruma-kun), Forest Friend (Gris), Turnip (Chicory: A Colorful Tale), Gary (Faith the Unholy Trinity), and Stag Malinay (Krystar First Fragment)] so granger is the main character of the indie game "NeverHome" Chapter one, which is only $1 on Steam, is called NeverHome: Hall of Apathy. if ur a fan of young protags being put in RPG maker horror games, then this is the game for you!! so granger is just that… she wakes up to find herself in a strange, hostile world. she, along with the friends she makes, must solve the various puzzles before them while creatures are out to kill them… and along the way they can uncover the secrets of these never ending halls… her dynamics with the cast is also super fun… each character gets their moment or moments with granger. and what's so cute is that there's unique art for each pair that highlights the fact you cant get through these halls alone!! she also has her own theme song!! here!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_vwtmIj5cw it's called cyclical tragedy AND HERE IS AN ANALYSIS OF THE THEME!! MUSIC THEORY!!! written by my good friend @HIEMIOLA "cyclical tragedy" embodies the protagonist, granger, through the music theory behind the track and ties itself back into the main track as well. to begin with an overview of the track, the key is D minor and hte time signature is 3/4. the piece begins with a broken minor third starting from the tonic. that is, it begins on the main note and moves along the main chord, D to F. the next set of notes are C to E, which is shifted down a step. the phrase repeats again, this time D to F, then G to E, which is an inverse movement from the original sequence. even in this first part, we could tell that the protagonist begins from square 1 with a simple pattern, then tries it again when it works. however, the inverse breaks that expectation of repetition, thus showing the diverse variations of solutions she comes up with using just the tools she has (the two notes moving in thirds). just like the game, she is given a handful of objects as well as a knife to defend herself and solve the mysteries of the world she exists in. with her creative uses of the items given to her, she continues on her way through the plot. we will keep moving. the melody begins. true to the title of the track, the melody cycles around the same beginning note, D, that she always returns to at her square 1. this is a nod to the save states she is allowed to keep to make sure that we the players don't lose the game, but it also references the health bar that appears as a circle around her avatar. the melody, mapped out, is also moving in an up-down wave movement across the sheet music. granger is creative with the knife she has and the quest items she obtains throughout the story, but she is not entirely reckless. rather, she knows when it is time to return to the safe rooms to rest. to time her returns requires skill because she must run to cover without being caught by varying her path so the enemies don't corner her as she tries to return to the room. most of the time, she is successful, shown through the consistent return to the beginning note. let's keep going. i would like to turn your attention to the main theme briefly. in the bass notes, you can hear arpeggios and outlined chords. this makes up the bulk of the accompaniment in the main game theme. [mod note: the rest of the essay, and some more propaganda, is continued under a cut because tumblr will not process more text than this in an indent. sorry to split it up, please continue below for the rest of the essay and additional propaganda (including art) !]

the third variation of granger's theme also has arpeggiated chords in the accompaniment while the melody features broken chords. at this stage, the pattern switches to eigth notes instead of the quarter notes at first. with greater movement and heightened senses, she runs throughout world and befriends other people, thus interacting further with the environment. while she isn't exactly someone we would call open, she is respectful to the people she first meets and has no problems with asking them for help when she needs it. because of her openness to working together, she speeds up her progress by asking for aid at obstacles that would be too difficult for her to overcome on her own, such as asking a teammate to break things, move things, or reach into smaller holes. fusing the main theme elements with her own theme marks this step as the inciting incident that sets her on the path to escape from this world. we'll continue.

continuing the same part, we hear some secondary fifths. i'm not entirely sure if this is what you call it, but it is a nod to the parallel key, D major. depending on what theory class you take, this could also be considered the other half of the key. i dont know how else to describe it, but i digress. these are glimpses to different dialogue options she could take, glimpses to a different key or a different ending. because this game only has one chapter ending so far, we are unsure of what other paths granger will end up in; we only know that there are certainly other endings she will experience, only to begin the cycle again when the save state is loaded for players to reach another ending. both A major and G major are chords that signify different choices that may lead her elsewhere only for her to return back to the tonic or main note, D. despite this, she keeps going, as will we.

at the midpoint of the track, we see a quick shift in patterns. instead of upward leaps in the notes, the melody falls in stepwise motion. true to the plot, this is another turning point of the game when she is forced to make a choice: continue or stop. after facing the spoiler event, her once determined personality is challenged as she struggles to keep herself and her team together. despite being the headstrong protagonist who spearheaded solutions, even now she finds herself doubting and taking smaller steps, smaller risks.

even after all of this, she rises to the challenge as the melody returns to its beginning sequence. true to a protagonist she gets up again despite the events that transpired and keeps her team moving in their lowest points. the thirds return as she finds more objects to solve more puzzles to open more rooms to save more friends. this repeating part of the track only solidifies her resolve as the piece ends with a broken chord in the main key, her key, of D minor. despite everything that transpired, she stayed true to herself."

the game is also so, so charming with the art, music, and story made by the same person… its so clearly loved and full of passion!! i love listening to the game's ost on occassion!! since it's all on youtube!

ok one last thing thing!! on may 8th, the game hit 100 downloads (on both steam and itch.io). you can see the creator of the game celebrate that with this lovely drawing of granger: https://twitter.com/NeverHome_Game/status/1655761270694633472

so at most, only a bit over 100 people have played the game… id like to say that makes it obscure!!

anyways granger and neverhome!! we love to see our protagonists put in horrific situations and isn't she super cute with a lil bow on her head? she is my daughter…

[additional propaganda 1] [additional propaganda 2]

[additional propaganda 3] [additional propaganda 4]

[additional propaganda 5] [additional propaganda 6]

[additional propaganda 7] [additional propaganda 8]

[additional propaganda 9] [additional propaganda 10]

[additional propaganda 11]

[snails-tales]

Turnip is modeling the new sweater I made her 💕✨

[dreamscape-glow]

Mcc (Minecraft championship) fictive(s)? Around 1-3 alters!

5UP HEADMATE PACK !!

name: 5up , five , uppy . prns: they/them , he/him , hyr/hyrm , ny/nym , ny/nymph , pe/pim . gender: male , enby , demiboy , xenoboy . orientation: asexual biromantic .

species: humanoid turnip . leaves: green . eyes: black . skin: white/off-white . clothes/accessories: scarf , backpack , headphones , sweater , leggings . other unique features: round head , leaves .

roles: fixkeeper , music holder , paichmate . source: mc championship .

age: 18 - 19 . birthday: july 24 .

personality: kind , caring , extroverted , passionate . likes: gardening , the outdoors . loves: music , exploring . dislikes: overstimulation . hates: flashing lights , loud noises .

faceclaim:

ac 1 ac 2 ac 3

tags: @bahtive , @cherishedverses

[dizzymisslizzie]

Ficlet Friday

The Rules: Copy the following prompts or make your own, post what fandoms you write for & your followers can request one of the prompts with a ship, character or fandom for a ficlet. Have fun! This week's prompts are dialogue:

‘Shut the front door, they said what?' ‘You sweet little turnip.' ‘Would you still love me if I was a blob fish?' ‘Me? Apologise? I think you have me confused for someone else...' ‘Do be a dear, and shut up.' ‘If you loved me, you'd let me have the last one.' ‘Watching me sleep is not cute, it's creepy you weirdo.'

Thank you to @suseagull04 for the prompts!

Ima RWRB state of mind! ❤️💙🇺🇸🏳️‍🌈🇬🇧

'Do be a dear, and shut up.' Catherine says to Phillip as she walks into the room gracefully. Alex can see her grace in Bea and Henry. She’s in blue jeans and a knit crew neck sweater, it’s rainbow to Alex’s total joy.

“We didn’t raise you to be a homophonic bellend.” Catherine says and moves to Philip. She puts her arms on his shoulders. “You should apologize to your brother, darling.” She kisses the top of his head and sits next to him. Philip’s face goes from anger to relenting understanding. “I’m sorry, Henry. People doubted Mazzy and I too when we were younger.” Phillip relents, “I still think you’re full young to be making such permanent decisions, but it’s your decision.”

“We all must learn and grow.” Henry says and smiles at Alex sweetly. Alex shares his secret smile.

[awlimagines]

Day Eight - Marlin/Matthew

The cold always soured his mood. It hadn’t always been like this. Matthew used to be a more upbeat person. He settled nicely between Kris Kringle and Ebenezer Scrooge on his Starry Night cheer. Then he collapsed at the company party and discovered his declining health. Matthew had always thought it was a lack of sleep as he pushed to advance his career. Instead, all his hard work over the years destroyed his health. His big sister Vesta settled him into the farm he tried so hard to escape, and his interest in Starry Night grew to dislike. 

“Doesn’t it sound like fun?” you enthusiastically asked after explaining ugly sweaters to him. 

“No. If you have time to focus on such things, you should work to improve your crop quality instead.” 

“Oh, okay. Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll go work on that.” 

Your crestfallen look made Matthew regret his words. His self-disgust grew as Matthew let you travel further from sight without saying anything. He swiftly kicked a rock in frustration from the path as you passed the bridge back to your farm. Why was it always easier for him to snap than comfort? He angrily shoved his hands into his pockets and stomped back to the house. The door snapped shut more sharply than he intended, gaining curious glances from Vesta and Cecilia. 

“Did you invite Y/N over for Starry Night?” Cecilia smiled. 

“Of course! And Takakura, the more the merrier,” Vesta boomed in response. 

“What’s so great about ugly sweaters? People in the city always talked about them,” Matthew muttered, interrupting their plans for Starry Night. 

“Well, because they’re cute, right? And it’s not often you get a chance to make something that’s supposed to be ugly. So, it’s fun!”

“Ha! You’re both missing the point!” Vesta beamed. “It’s the community, doing something together with the people you like.” 

Matthew spent the night thinking of Vesta’s words as her snores filled the silence. Did you want to spend time with him? Is that why you looked so upset? Matthew was grateful to see snow in the morning for the first time since he moved to the valley. Even if he tried to work, Vesta would ensure he remained indoors today. As Vesta and Ceci tended the fields, Matthew dug through his chest. The cloth options were mainly scraps left over from previous projects. Nothing in there would make anything decent, but the goal was to make something ugly. 

He spent the last week and a half splitting his time between the fields and sweaters. Pushing you away on Van’s previous visit had been the hardest. You had looked desperate to spend time together, but as much as he missed you, he needed the time to finish the last touches. Matthew barely resisted the urge to watch you from the windows when Ceci explained he was sick and couldn’t come out. Now, as he stood at your door holding the mess of fabrics, he worried it was too late. Maybe you were sick of his mood swings. Maybe you had made new plans for Starry Night Eve to avoid him. You were always close with the others in town. 

“Matthew? I was just on my way over. You didn’t need to pick me up,” surprise laced your voice as the house’s light flooded over the man on your doorstep. “Wait, what are you wearing?” 

The tips of his ears grew red as a chuckle entered your voice. His ugly sweater was a hodge-podge of styles with a carrot wearing a Santa hat in the center. Matthew swallowed his embarrassment to thrust a sweater at you, “Here, I made this one for you.”

You earnestly yanked the clothing from his hands, your door swinging shut in his face. Before Matthew could decide if this was a good or bad sign, you had opened the door. You now wore a sweater as mismatched as his own. A proud turnip with a bright red nose and antlers stood in its center.

“I don’t think you could look ugly in anything.” 

“Thanks, I love it,” you blushed, lacing your hand with his to head to Vesta’s farm.

[stolenoc]

Turnips.

I have so many questions about turnips. How many turnips are there? How long do they last- does Runa's magic keep them alive indefinitely? Do they require care, like leaf pruning, cleaning, etc? Does Runa do that? Why didn't we get to see it?

On that note, when asleep, the turnips appear to just become regular vegetables- does this mean that she's actually making a whole new fresh batch every morning? The April Fools turnip does recognise MC on waking up, but they might all inherit Runa's memories, so that proves nothing. Also, do they actually need sleep? Can they operate when Runa is asleep? (That one might be answered in her route, but I forget.)

At various times, Runa has taken them to an amusement park, given them days off work, and also taught them how to play tiny instruments- and yet, they do not seem to have names? Why do they not have names? I've got a whole list of great turnip names, hit me up, Runa.

Is it strange, in universe, for a restaurant to be staffed primarily (in numerical terms) by magical vegetables? Is Runa paid for the additional effort of maintaining those vegetable staffers and saving Liora on training and wages by effectively doing the work of more than one waitress? Is Sweets going to be in trouble when Runa leaves? It really seems like the whole business model relies on the majority of menial tasks falling to Runa's magical constructs- I'm pretty sure that, other than in Magician MC's routes, the turnips are the only ones washing the dishes.

Do they ever get little sweaters knitted for them? I'm pretty sure we never see that, but maybe it's never cold enough to do so? Could MC knit them some sweaters? I'm not asking you, I'm asking her, I think they need some.

[organised-disaster]

Aight @baxieblur-turnip and @randosfandos y'all know the drill here it is

SNOWBIRD: CHAPTER IV

I stare at the ceiling. It's quite nice. Wood panels. Inoffensive. I count the scratch marks in it, then the proper holes.

I've just nicked it more than I've actually hit it. I don't especially try when I throw my knife. It used to be Otto's. I feel bad launching it at the ceiling, but it's what I do when I'm bored.

I retrieve it from my drawer. I flick it open and close a few times, running my thumb over the dimpled texture of the green handle while I study the ceiling. I can almost see the shape of a face...

I throw the knife up into a blank spot. It makes a tiny scratch. Not enough force. It sails back down into my hand. I catch it easily, the blunt side of the blade slotting seamlessly between my fingers.

Again. It thuds into the ceiling, between the boards, and I almost think it's going to stay there. It slides out, however, rotating to be blade-first. It pierces the pillow next to my head. How unfortunate.

Again. A thunk can be heard as it stays put. I stand to retrieve it, my bed creaking in protest. The ceilings are not especially low, but Otto's knife is easily within my reach.

It comes away too easily. Not enough force, once again. I stay standing instead of lying down again. I look at the knife in my hand.

I could stop. I could stop damaging the ceiling over and over again, and I could stop blunting the knife. I should stop.

I am only breaking things. No, not even breaking. This is nothing.

This is just more purposeless damage. I am just stabbing the ceiling, the ceiling that can not die, or feel it at all. This is an exercise in futility. I am satisfying nothing.

The sound the knife makes as I personally drive it into the ceiling is very satisfying indeed.

I step off my bed, landing silently on my floor. I allow the knife to say in my ceiling. I don't need it, anyway. I have other, much sharper knives. Better knives.

I pass my empty wall. The spot with four holes in it as if something was once displayed there stares into me, accusing me. I face it, staring back. I blindfold it by displaying Sera's gift. Yumi's warm, grey eyes now bore a hole into my skull, but it's a marginal improvement.

I shut the door quietly behind me. I don't care about the noise I make, but I don't need to be loud. It would feel too small.

My footsteps echo in the empty hallway. There used to be photos in this house. Filling the walls. There also used to be laughter.

The one photo left sits alone on the mantle. I know what it looks like, of course. I wasted many days staring at it.

Yumi is approximately seven. My mother is desperately trying to keep a hold of her, obviously tired but still smiling. Yumi is wearing a large grin, several teeth missing, as she seems to yell and reach toward the photographer.

One of her hands is pushing my mother's face to the side, slightly squishing her smile. My father is holding me, smiling at my mother and Yumi rather than the camera. I look grumpy.

It was taken in winter, so we are all wearing warm clothing. I look adequately cared for, with a knit beanie and fluffy green jumpsuit covering all of me but my face. My father's puffy jacket is an equal green. Yumi's brown sweater matches the one our mother is wearing. Yumi had to be wrestled into that sweater.

It's a lovely, lively photo, full of warmth and happiness. It reflects nothing of what we are now, though. It's almost like looking into a broken mirror.

You know what's supposed to be there, what it's supposed to look like, and it just doesn't. You can tell what it was. You can tell what it did. And it will never be what it was again, even if you fix it.

It's far more complicated than a broken mirror, though. We've lost all but two of the pieces, and one is so dirty and scratched that it's functionally worthless. We don't even have the glue to put those two pieces back together.

I hate the year-old girl in that photo. I hate her dissatisfied frown and barely visible black hair. I hate her chubby, tiny, tightly balled fists. I hate her innocence. I hate her ignorance.

I'm not looking at the photo now, though, so there is nothing immediately in front of me to hate. At least until I reach the mirror. But I already know what I look like. I will just ignore myself, like always.

I wash my face for the third time today. I should apologise to Sera. I should also never speak to Sera again. I should also lie down in the sand and wait for the ocean to claim me.

It's unclear what order I should take those actions in. Logic states that the ocean will take up far more of my time than begging for Sera's forgiveness and exit from my life.

I do not like logic. It is normally against me. I don't really want to talk to Sera right now, either. I don't want to talk to her, full stop. She'll come to me, talk to me, convince me to talk to her. She always does.

Of course, the Reaping is soon. I have several hours to kill. Normally, I'd spend this time with Sera. It would be tense, and there would be something inherently sad about it, but we would have each other. And that would be how we held each other together.

But not today. I won't lose this. I don't lose. It isn't something I do. I don't need Sera. I need her like I need a gaping head wound. I need her like I need the knife in my ceiling. Gods, I hate that knife.

I hated Otto's urgency as she pressed it into Yumi's hands before pressing an equal kiss to her lips. I hated my father's soulless eyes as he dropped a box of Yumi's things on my lap. I hated the message at the bottom of that box.

I hate that message.

I twist the tap violently enough that it must have bruised my hand. What a shame. The tap drips for a moment, then realises it's done with its job and ceases. The ensuing silence is decidedly agitating. It is broken by the sound of the door creaking open.

I will not look in the mirror. I will not acknowledge who is staring back at me, and I especially will not acknowledge who is behind me. I bring my hands behind my head, gathering my hair into one area.

I make sure to keep my eyes closed. I slide my hairband off my wrist and wrap it once, twice, three times around my ponytail until it is tight and stays in its place just behind where my head curves. I drag the towel across my face, mildly hoping it'll miraculously turn into steel wool.

I push past the man with the unshaved face and uncombed hair. I do not speak to him. He has missed his chance. He lays a hand on my shoulder.

The father makes some semblance of an attempt to speak to his daughter. The daughter coldly brushes away her father's hand.

My gait is not hurried, but most would fall behind. I don't know where I'm going. I suppose I'll find out when I get there. More people are around now. Most of them are Peacekeepers.

Preparing for the yearly slaughter, of course. It's a miracle Annie won the last. The poor girl snapped like a twig the minute Moor was beheaded. I don't blame her.

We were... not friends. Never friends. I knew her. It wouldn't be right to say that I know her. But we interacted, and I didn't hate her. She's how I knew him.

I remember how she trembled in the chair she looked too small in when her other friends rushed in to wish her luck and comfort her. He would have loved to, but mentors aren't allowed to.

I don't envy her. Or him. Nothing good came of their victories, aside from the food parcels for District Four. He's off in the Capitol being treated like an object, and Annie is... hopefully still breathing.

Perhaps I should visit her. There was far too much screaming coming from her house in Victor's Village for a woman who lives alone the last time I tried to check on her, though. It's best that I stay away.

Seth is about her age, I believe. They've never once held a conversation, but Seth has a way of speaking without his voice. He is very regular with his visits to her.

He looks almost identical to his sister. Messy blonde curls that spill easily into his eyes and tie themselves into knots around his ears, dulled-gold irises, a constellation of freckles across his nose and cheeks, a solid, strong build. One of their very few physical differences is his facial hair, which isn't much more than some thicker patches of fuzz at the moment.

I'm told he's very handsome by his many fans. I don't see it. He's just a male version of Sera, so feasibly I should be able to see it, but it just doesn't appear to me. Perhaps it's his lack of everything that I find sweet about her. Sera's face in my vision every day for almost two decades could have warped my perception of what "good-looking" is...

Most people assume Seth is mute or deaf or both, but he turns when someone talks to him, and he responds with a mumble or vague noise if I ask him something.

Seth is... strange. He's oddly fascinated by seaweed and the like, wasting all his free time poking at samples of it pulled up of fishing trips. He doesn't feel anything until it's applied tenfold, and even then, it doesn't appear to bother him. He'll just stare at people if they talk to him.

He talks to his friends the most. They adore him. It's understandable, with his inexplicable odd charm. It was easy to assume at first that they were just acting like they liked him because they found it funny.

They're genuine, though. They gather, the five or so of them, without him occasionally. I once walked past them as they were talking, and he was mentioned many times.

They talked about how odd it was that he knew so much about seaweed, but changed it immediately by talking about what he knew and how interesting it was. They discussed if they should bring Seth along to an event, mainly debating if he would enjoy it. One of them mentioned a rock Seth had given him, holding it out and praising it.

I don't consider myself jealous. It made me wonder for a moment if that was how the people who knew me talked about me when I wasn't present. I felt relieved for a moment. I am not one to try to deny facts, however.

I'm not blind. I saw the glares Seth's friends gave me.

One of them was Otto's younger brother, Oswald. She had two, him and a boy named Fayrouz, who's now about thirteen. He hates me now, but I would sometimes see him when Otto came over to talk to Yumi.

I remember her fairly well, although I didn't know her as greatly.

Otto loved green and wore a lot of it. Mainly deep sages, but I'd occasionally see her wearing an almost blindingly lime shirt. She was one of the fishers and had the build to match. Her burnt umber skin was lined with scars, especially her hands, and her whole body rippled when she flexed.

She had distinctly sharp features, much like the Esthel twins. Unlike them, though, her caramel-colour gaze could easily cut diamond. Her face was also more square, drawing attention to her high, ever-bruised cheekbones. She would always wear her black, curling hair in a low ponytail.

Oswald and I talked a little then, while our sisters were busy with their schoolwork and their gossip. He's a nice enough guy. Or, he used to be, anyway. He has a lot of friends. Sera is one of them.

He's very fond of her. She's ushered me out of her house so she can talk to him before. It makes sense. He detests me, and Sera likes him for some reason, so she keeps us separate.

Mechi sometimes brings up how Ozzie being alone with Sera doesn't bother me, but them being alone does. I don't really have anything to address that. I can't really take him seriously, I guess. I know I'll never have to worry about Sera preferring him to me.

He looks just like Otto. His hair is curlier than hers, and he keeps it cut short, but very similar. His eyes used to have her same piercing quality, but now they smoulder when I look at him. He didn't use to try to look like her.

It's for the opposite of the reason I keep my hair long, I'd imagine.

When Yumi died, it was like his older sister had died all over again. But at least there was someone he could rightfully blame. He likes it when we're partnered together in training. Especially when weapons get involved. He never wins, but he doesn't care.

Yumi's swap was considered "a shock" and "a display of friendship." Mine was called "a tragedy" and "unjust" and "stealing."

Otto loved Yumi deeply. And then Yumi was called, and Otto couldn't imagine life without her. So Otto took Yumi's place without a moment's hesitation. Yumi was comforted and consoled, and Otto was mourned as a dead woman.

Yumi cared for me. And then I was called, and Yumi felt that I was her responsibility. So Yumi took my place without a moment's hesitation. I was scowled at and disregarded, and Yumi was mourned as a loss.

It's not unfair, not exactly. Yumi was all kinds of excellent, but Otto was different. Colder, but still as caring. Less patient, but still as willing to listen. She gave solutions when presented with problems.

I remember her voice being smooth and warm. Much like someone else's. I didn't cry at her funeral, either. Rumi Erudite doesn't cry.

There was so something so utterly tragic about Otto.

It doesn't matter, not anymore. She's dead.

Ah. So my destination was the beach. Logical. It's nice this time of year. Victors will often stop here on their tours.

I don't feel anything when I sit down in the sand, just ahead of where the waves lap at my feet. I don't want to get saltwater on these shoes. And I don't like the way the waves move. I don't like the way they're getting closer to me.

Some part of me laughs at that. They're waves. They can't be malicious. They can't be cunning. They can't be evil. They can't... hate...

I shake that away and shuffle further up the beach.

It would be nice if I could feel what I felt three hours or so ago. It would also be nice if I could describe that feeling. It's childish that all I know is that I feel it with Sera, childish that I know nothing of my own emotions.

I wish my appreciation of the sunsets and sunrises wasn't linked to Sera. I wish my best memories didn't involve her. I wish that I didn't feel short of breath when she laughs.

I wish, I wish, I wish...

How childish. How naïve. How old am I, really? That I'm stuck wishing and hoping and whining? I hate that. I hate it all. I hate Sera.

I stare out into the ocean. I normally try to identify the boats on the water, but it's all been put on hold for the Reaping. The ocean surface is empty. It's slightly odd. It's very much non-standard, but it isn't alien.

It's sort of like when the birds all fall silent and leave the skies when a storm is brewing. It's not like it isn't normal. It's just not a good sign.

No boats means a child of District Four dies.

I remember when Sera would come home from storms. If she was caught in one, it'd be because they blew in before they could react. I'd wrap a blanket around her shoulders as she laughed about how she had been thrown overboard and hauled back on more than once.

I've noticed a pattern with Sera. Every time something bad happens to her, she just... starts joking. It's like she can't take it seriously. She refuses to acknowledge her own injuries. I'll usually have to drag her over to Cod. The only time she's taken herself there was when she accidentally cut off part of her ring finger while chopping carrots, and even then, she still tried to deflect it as okay for about thirty seconds. She worries me sometimes.

One night after a storm, Sera didn't laugh. She knocked on my door and waited where she would normally just let herself in. Even when I answered, she just stood in front of the door, dripping wet from the pouring rain with her head hanging. I could barely hear her when she asked to come inside.

I wonder if it's possible to purge memories. The ones after Yumi's death are all blurred. Those aren't gone, though. I want them gone entirely, so I wouldn't even know that I was remembering them strangely.

Alas.

The ocean's calm, at least.

"Rumi." I jump slightly. The newcomer's soft voice surprised me, somehow so much louder than everything else. I glance at the sky instead of her. The light's changed. I have no idea how long I was staring out at the mostly-flat ocean.

I identify her by the stitching at the hem of her shirt as I turn to watch the ocean again.

"Figured I'd find you here," Mechi says vaguely.

"Yes, well..." I respond, equally non-specific.

There is more silence. I assume Mechi is admiring the sea.

"You made her cry, you know," she says after a few minutes.

"Okay." Mechi sighs.

"Showed up on our doorstep," she furthers.

"Okay." Mechi shifts next to me.

"She was bawling her eyes out about how she upset you. She blames herself for every little thing you do, you know."

"That seems like her problem."

"Gods, Rumi, don't you care? You're her best friend," Mechi says, irritated. I finally turn to her so I can glare at her.

She's exactly as she always is. Blank. Mechi does not show her emotions much. It's not deliberate, I don't think.

"Why should I care about what Sera blames herself for? Why should her issues be mine, too? When did I agree to that?" Mechi flexes her hands.

"When you became her friend, that's when," she says, maintaining her composure. I turn away from her. Mechi sighs again. "It's sort of difficult to calm her down when she gets like that, you know." I do know. I've known Sera for longer than she has. I hate it when people act like they know her better than me.

"She loves contact, yeah?" Mechi continues. "Likes having her hair fixed, likes being hugged, likes being held. She loves to have somebody wrap their arms around her." Mechi pauses for a moment. "Affection. From someone she trusts. That's all she really needs."

There's another long pause between the two of us.

"To make her feel safe again. You know how it is."

She's saying all that like she did it. That's all oddly intimate for someone who's just her friend. Mechi's not close to her like I am. I'm the only one who's allowed to do things like that. That's what I do with Sera, not her. That's ours, not hers. And I don't like what she's implying with that snarky little last comment. The sand crunches in my clenched fists.

"You're too cruel to her. You're on a good path to lose her, you realise." She really thinks she knows what she's talking about, doesn't she? "I can tell when she's upset. I can tell when she's scared. I know how she gets when you get angry."

Oh, of course. Because Mechi knows everything, apparently. She acts like this sometimes, like she's the smartest person in all of Panem. She acts like she's so much better than me.

Sera doesn't "get" anything when I'm angry. She knows it's not really her fault. It's not even directed at her most of the time. I always apologise to her afterwards, too. I hate to see her upset. Which I recognise better than Mechi.

Mechi doesn't have any right to assume things about me and Sera. She knows far less than I do. And she's making me angry. I bet she's doing it on purpose so she can lie some more and say that I'm always like this. Fine then. If she wants me to be angry, I'll get angry.

"Really?!" I snap at her. She doesn't flinch. "You really have the audacity to say that?! I've known Sera for fifteen years! You've known her for - for not even a third of that! Do you think you're even remotely capable of knowing her like I do?! Do you really think that you - "

"She says you scare her sometimes," Mechi says levelly, cutting me off. "She says you aren't really yourself."

I don't scare Sera. We're friends. She's not scared of me. She knows me. Maybe... maybe once, years ago, I did scare her, but we talked about that! And besides, she'd tell me if she was afraid of me. She wouldn't tell Mechi instead. She wouldn't hide her feelings from me. She wouldn't betray me like that.

I know Mechi's lying. She's doing it to make me angry. Sera would never betray me. Sera would never say that I'm not myself. She knows me. She knows who I am. She's the only one who does.

Mechi is a liar.

"You've got an excellent tactic right now, actually," she says, still daring to speak. "You're absolutely awful to her, then you tell her you care about her and act so sweet about it." How dare she. How dare she. I'm not. I'm not anything she says I am. I'm nothing she says I am. She's everything she says I am, if anything! She's the -

"What, are you just going to sit there and get redder?" Mechi prods. She's waiting for me to come to any kind of a conclusion on my own. I have a conclusion for her. I have so many conclusions for her, and right now, a lot of them end in her blood decorating the sand.

"You don't know anything about us!" I shout, going in the least violent direction. "I care about Sera! More than you ever could! And I -"

"You're doing such a great job manipulating Sera, Rumi."

She's so pretentious. She's so smug. She's so proud of herself. She thinks she knows me. She thinks she knows Sera. Sera is my friend, not hers. Sera spends the most time with me. Sera is mine.

She's mine, all mine. Mechi should give in. She's mine. She's not Mechi's, she's not Tyra's, she's not any of those stupid boys', she's definitely not Ozzie's. She's mine.

"That's why she's afraid," Mechi says, so quietly. I must have said all that out loud. I don't care. It's true. She knows it's true. And she knows she's lying.

Something breaks. Some restraint I was keeping, it's gone. She thinks she can say all that. All that without consequence. She thinks that because she's just oh so important, she can do whatever she wants.

I wasn't raised to take disrespect like that. I wasn't trained to tolerate attitude like hers. And I won't.

I strike her, hard. It knocks her over, and she cries out. I stand. She rubs the side of her face. She looks up at me. Where have I seen that expression before..?

I don't care. I don't care.

"Stand up," I snarl. She's afraid. She's cowering at my feet. She didn't expect to be hit.

Something tugs at me, at the back of my mind. I ignore it. I demand that Mechi stands up again. This time, she obeys. I hit her again. It doesn't... do as much this time.

I hit her with just as much force. I think.

I punch out at her again, but she brings her guard up and blocks it. I am abruptly reminded that Mechi has had nearly identical training to me. She sends a violent blow into my cheekbone, causing me to tear up.

I punch her in the teeth on my rebound. Her hand instinctively flies to her mouth. I take my opportunity and kick her knee, knocking her down.

I bring my own knee violently into her face.

It doesn't occur. So I bring my own knee violently into her face.

Don't I? She's at the perfect angle for it. It would probably break her nose. So I bring my own knee violently into her face.

But I don't. I stand. Useless. Mechi looks up at me. She swipes the back of her hand across her mouth, stepping up and away from me. Her face softens.

"I can tell you aren't trying," she says quietly. She doesn't even have a lisp. "You don't really want to hurt me. You're just angry."

"Shut up," I hiss. There's a good, cold fury in my voice. Mechi's expression is one of pity.

"You only did that because you hate that what I said was true."

How many times do I have to tell her? How many times do I need to bruise her? How many times do I need to split her lip?

She is a liar. I love Sera. I don't hurt her. I hate hurting her. I don't mean to. I mean it every time, and I regret it so much more every time. Something in me always whispers that she deserves it. Something in me is wrong. Some part of me is broken.

I must be doing something stupid with my face.

"You need to go talk to her. She loves you, Rumi. And you keep on breaking her heart," Mechi says, her voice weak and wavering. I mishear what she says next. I must've.

Because otherwise, Mechi just said that Sera is going to die.

Mechi wipes one of her eyes.

"I tried to talk her out of it. She said she didn't have a choice." Something icy spreads in my chest.

"She's rigged the Reaping, Rumi. For you. It's going to be her. I don't know why. She could have done anything else." Mechi is lying. Again. She must be lying. She must be. The ice creeps up my spine.

"Does she have a death wish?" I demand, although it's more desperate and pathetic and on the verge of tears than actually demanding. Mechi laughs, cold and hollow.

"Same thing I asked her," she mutters. "She didn't tell me. She just gave me this sad smile." I grab her, seizing her by the collar. The ice reaches my arms. I will not let go of her until she tells me the truth. Mechi reaches up to try to free herself, her hands landing on my wrists.

"I don't believe you," I hiss, more strangled than I would have liked it to be. It's true. I don't believe her. I won't believe her. I don't want to. Mechi shakes her head.

"It's what she told me, Rumi," she says, voice low.

My veins freeze over.

"It's my fault that she knew," Mechi says, shame colouring her face. "I overheard a guy we know, I forgot his name, bribing Papa to rig it to be you." Mechi squeezes my arms tighter.

"He accepted. Because he's shameless," she mutters angrily. "So I told Sera, because what else was I supposed to do? Let her watch you die?" she spits. Her words boil with anger and resentment.

"She got him to make it all her name," she says, some of the hate leaving her voice to make room for defeat. "He wouldn't listen to me when I asked him to just drop the whole thing."

Tears drip down her face as her posture weakens.

"He hates the Kaishurrs. He was basically being paid to kill one of them," she says. "I don't know what she's planning to stop you from volunteering, but Sera's smart. She's going to be in the Games." I release her, staggering back. I am cold. I am unnaturally cold, on this nice, warm morning.

The ocean laughs at me.

The ice does not release its horrible grip as my body starts to move. Mechi moves out of the way as the beach rushes past, the sand giving way to earth and the earth giving way to concrete.

My chest tightens. I can't breathe.

My feet carry me forward. I can't see. All I can hear is my heart hammering in my ears. And Mechi's awful words, echoing over and over again.

She's going to die. She's going to die. She's going to die. She's going to die, and it's my fault.

I can't go fast enough. My top speed is not fast enough. I am not strong enough. I can't save her. We're both going to drown.

Blood is spreading through the water like a grim plume. Rain is cutting into us like knives. I can't save her. I can't save her. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can'tIcan't. Ican'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan't.

WhyisnobodyherewhyisnobodyhelpinguswhyisshenotbreathingwhyamIuselesswhyamIworthlesswhycan'tIsaveherwhywhywhywhywhypleasepleasepleaseI'msorryI'msosorrypleaseopenyoureyespleaseplease -

A scream tears at my throat, but it comes out as a stream of bubbles, and comes back in as suffocating, surrounding water. Every desperate, sprinted step hurts. Everything hurts. My clothes feel heavy. Seawater burns my eyes and nose.

We will drown. We will drown, and it is my fault. She hadn't insisted. I had a choice. We will die. I am drowning. I am drowning. I am drowning.

I can't breathe. I can hear the ocean. Crashing waves. Dragging me down with no remorse. No mercy. No care.

Water roars in my ears. It hates me. It's always hated me. It let me feel safe for a long time, so I'd let my guard down. So it could kill me. It's docile when I see it, when the sun shines.

It shows me its true nature when it storms. It shouts at me, comes for me, hungers for me.

I fear it. Not when I am not alone. It doesn't dare touch me when I am not alone. But I know how cruel it truly is. It hates.

It consumes me. It swallows me whole and does not notice. It does not care what it is doing to me. It does not care how it seeps the life from me.

I can't move fast enough.

She comes into focus. Her face. Her head. Her mouth. The blood around her. The blood on the docks.

She turns to face me. I see her eyes widen. Through my pain and my rain and my desperation, I see her.

My arms come around her body. We fall to the ground. The solid, dry ground. I fall into blood-spoiled blonde curls and the forever poisoned scent of petrichor and saltwater and rotting wood and blood and exposed bone and desperate screaming and tear stained cheeks and regret and pain and lasting injuries and warm nights and happy embraces and death and love and loss.

I'm sorry, I tell her. I'm so sorry.

[moonselune]

Pardon me! Not a request but I'm just a touch innebriated and I wanted to talk about my favorite thing to do with Astarion is make him the Malfina to my Tav's Connecticut Clark. (If you're not familiar please look it up is very stupid and funny) But just- no more angst for you here's my solid 4/10 looks, negative intelligence modifier, turnip farmer Tav with loving parents from a town with hobbit politics/problems. Absolutely nothing tickles me more. Spiritually I'm putting this man in the Connecticut kitty sweater

ahahhaah no worries, I did have to look this up though - the fact I had to use the website 'know your meme' made me feel so old lmaooooo but yes that would be amazing

[myloveforhergoeson]

Edge of Seventeen ~ 2.6k

hi - this is the beginning of chapter 24 and will be a part of the official post later this week. if you don't want spoilers, don't read on! if you want to read a little scene before roxy's birthday so we can kind of celebrate it on the 30th, it is here for you :)

thanks to @uncarved-turnip for helping headcannon the boy's favorite hockey teams! <333

Thursday night. 

Or as the boys had fondly renamed it “Crib Hockey Night,” though, if you asked Roxanne, almost every single night was hockey night once the NHL pro season had begun earlier in the month. Though the boys really only turned the games on if their favorite teams were playing - they were far too busy to watch every single match - tonight was an especially important night. 

James’ favorite team, the L.A. Kings were in a fierce battle against Logan’s favorite team, the Vancouver Canucks. Both boys were dressed completely up in all of their merchandise, which were mainly fleece pullovers, wool beanies, and knitted scarves, so they had set the air conditioner to near freezing, and were fighting with each other for the entire first part of the match. By the first intermission, the teams were both tied with one goal each and the tension in the room could not be more palpable. 

Despite having their own separate favorite teams, both Kendall and Carlos had seemingly taken sides as well, but it felt more like Kendall taking Logan’s side and Caros taking James’ side than picking a team to win the current match. The other two, decked out in their own favorite team’s gear despite neither of them having played for a few days, were even placing bets as to whether James and Logan would get physical after the end of the game despite whoever actually won. 

Roxy had baked chocolate chip cookies in lieu of choosing a side, seeing as she knew the end result of the match would cause a messy fight between her friends regardless. However, since she was dating the biggest L.A. Kings fan in the world, she found herself cheering a little harder whenever she thought they made a good play. 

Tucked into James’ side on the orange sectional of 2-J, the girl munched down one of her treats as she watched, while trying to take in as much of the space heater-like warmth rolling off his body as she could. Crib Hockey Night was no joke; For a moment she swore she could see her breath condensating as she shivered into her boyfriend to steal a bit more of his heat. 

 The chill was one of the only two downsides to their game-watching habits, but the boys swore it was necessary because it made them feel like they were actually there at the rink. And, of course, it gave them an excuse to dress up in all their expensive sweater-jerseys and excess merch they could never wear out in sunny Los Angeles. The second downside was the self-censoring the boys had to participate in, considering Kendall’s 12-year-old little sister was hiding away in her room. There was always something about sports games that riled fans up to the point where they yelled at their TV as if the people on the other side of the screen could hear them. This game was no exception, especially due to the nature of James and Logan’s team rivalry. 

Paying more attention to her baked good than the next play proved to be a fatal mistake for the writer, who looked down just at the wrong time. In those few seconds, James had jumped into the air, practically screaming, “What the fu-dge was that, Drewiske?!” as one of his favorite players earned himself a penalty. 

With her space-heater still standing, watching the screen so intently Roxy thought for a second he might be brainwashed, the girl shivered a little extra as she waited for him to sit back down and warm her up again. 

From the longer section of the couch beside her, Kendall broke his focus on the TV for a moment to grab another cookie before noticing his friend’s discomfort. 

“Jesus, Rox, you look like you’re freezing!” He exclaimed, rapidly taking his Minnesota Wild patterned scarf from around his neck and holding it out for her to take. 

Before her fingers could make contact with the knitted fabric, James gasped, finally ripping his attention from the game before stepping in front of the exchange to stop it. 

“No! Don’t touch that, it’s unlucky! He’s trying to trick you, Roxy, I swear!”

In response, Kendall just snickered. Each of them had their own superstitions and lucky items when it came to their games. In James’ mind, touching the merchandise of another hockey team on purpose was as good as a death sentence for the Kings.

Roxy was a bit grateful he was extending the belief onto her, despite how ridiculous it truly was. She raised both her hands in the air innocently, “Sorry, I just didn’t bring any winter gear from home. My L.A. wardrobe is almost exclusively cropped, thin, or short clothing.”

“I see no problem with that.”

She swatted James' arm playfully as he sat back down, trying to bite back her grin, but she doubted he could feel it through all his layers.

On the other side of the couch, Carlos let out a chuckle as he pulled his helmet off only to pull off a Toronto Maple Leaf beanie beneath to hand off to her. “Come on, man, her lips are practically blue.”

“Ooh,” Her boyfriend smiled, smacking his friend's hand out of her way. “That’s an easy fix.”

In an instant, his freezing hands cupped the side of her face before he leaned into her and stole a few slow kisses; The buzzer on the TV blared in their ears, signaling the start of the second intermission. 

That sure warmed Roxy right up. 

Ignoring the chorus of, “Ugh!” from the other three, she nearly whined when he pulled away, hating the sensation of his lips leaving hers before she buried her head into his chest in pure embarrassment. At least that was warm too. 

It wasn’t long after James pulled off his own scarf, gently wrapping it around her neck and tying it in a pretty knot before extending an arm around her waist to pull her in closer as they tried to ignore the commercials playing over the loudspeakers. 

The sound of jingling keys caused the five of them to turn their heads toward the kitchen, where Mrs. Knight was piling up her reusable grocery bags and heading toward the door. 

“Anyone need anything from the store?” She cheerily asked, picking up her purse from a hook beside the entryway. 

While most of them shook their heads, Kendall perked up, “Would you mind grabbing some extra snacks and pop? I was thinking of having a party on the first.”

A party?

“Of course, honey! Just be sure to keep the guest list small. What kind of cake do you want?” 

“Vanilla, please, with that buttercream frosting you make.”

A birthday party.

Pausing to write down her son’s request on a small notepad she had in her bag, Mrs. Knight nodded, red waves bouncing over her shoulders. “If you think of anything else, just text me, okay?”

Giving her a thumbs up, Kendall turned his attention back to the game with the rest of the band. 

Meanwhile, Roxy did some mental calculations as his mom made her way out the door. After the fiasco with James and Carlos’ birthdays on tour and how distraught he had been about celebrations, she thought he could have at least given her a heads up about his if he wanted to throw a party - especially one the day after Halloween.

Playing with the tassels on the scarf James had let her borrow, the girl cleared her throat over the sound of the announcers rattling on and on about some unimportant team stats. “Your birthday is on Sunday?” 

The boy reached out to take another cookie off the plate she had brought, eyes still trained on the game as he let out a weak, “Mhm.”

“Huh,” She thought aloud absentmindedly, watching as the Kings made a particularly good play. Against her side, she could feel James flutter with excitement and it distracted her just enough to mumble out. “I didn’t know I was older than you.”

Logan was the first to register her statement, jaw dropping slightly as he turned to face her with a confused squint in his eye, though she was too busy watching the Kings dump the puck. 

Next was James, glancing toward his girlfriend as she took another bite of her cookie and flinched at the loud crack one of the Canuck’s sticks made upon contact with the disc to shoot it out of their zone.

It was finally Carlos who voiced his puzzlement with a, “What?”

“Yeah,” Kendall tacked on, finally following. “What he said.”

Uncomfortably shifting further into James’ side now that all eyes were on her, she simply kept her focus on the game. Roxy was pretty sure the Kings were about to lose. 

“When’s your birthday then?” James finally asked her, seeing as she didn’t think the information important enough to offer up without prompting. 

“The thirtieth.”

“The thirtieth? October thirtieth?” Her boyfriend repeated, glancing to his upper left before asking. “As in, tomorrow, Roxy?”

Nodding, she sensed a bit of urgency in his tone she didn’t quite understand.

Arm slipping out from around her waist, James’ eyes were wide as he turned to face her, “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He probably hadn’t meant to puff out his chest, but he did, making himself look all the more taller than she was, even sitting down on the plush couch cushions.

“I made cookies!” She protested, finger gently pointing over to the plate on the coffee table in front of them. “It would’ve been Oreo fluff salad but I ran out of my last pudding packet earlier.”

“Oh, that’s what those were for…” Logan trailed off, rubbing one hand on his arm to warm up a bit. “I figured you just felt bad the Canucks were going to unleash a can of-” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “whoop ass-” before bringing it back to a normal level, “on the Kings and you made them so James would feel better.”

Just as James shot back, “The Canucks are not-” a buzzer sounded off over their speakers, signaling the end of the game. The five had been so engrossed in their own conversation that they had missed the tiebreaker shoot-out that ended the match entirely. 

Canucks 2, Kings 1.

This only soured James' dampening mood and everyone could tell his temperament was only growing worse by the moment - especially Roxy, who was beginning to feel as though she had done something wrong.

At the very least, Logan was kind enough not to gloat about his team’s victory for the time being, though most of them knew he would the minute he felt it appropriate. 

“Look I don’t-” Roxy felt her heartbeat quicken, but not in the fun, fluttery way she was used to around James. As her chest began to constrict under the scrutiny of his gaze, it was getting harder to formulate her thoughts. “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset. It’s not like it’s a secret or anything! None of you ever asked.”

If she had the choice, the writer would have this conversation with him literally anywhere than right in front of their friends who were just sitting around them, awkwardly pretending like they were invested in the commercials airing on TV. 

“Roxy…” Taking a deep breath, the boy closed his eyes for a moment before slowly opening them again. It wasn’t long after he reached out to grab one of her hands, squeezing it tightly in his own. “I’m not upset, it’s just… This is your first birthday as my girlfriend - As a friend of ours.” 

He vaguely gestured toward Logan, Kendall, and Carlos as he continued, “We can’t make that special for you if you don’t let us know. How else are we supposed to coordinate gifts and throw you killer parties?”

Ah.

Looking down at her hand in his, Roxy gently rubbed the back of his knuckles with her thumb, feeling her heart beat steady now that he was able to explain himself better. “Birthday parties are important for the four of you - I know that! And don’t get me wrong, I love to party, but a whole party dedicated just to me is not my style. Back home, all my dad and I would do on my birthday is eat sweets and watch TV, just like we are now, so I’m perfectly content… Besides, no one ever comes to parties the day before Halloween.”

None of the boys liked the certainty with which she said her last sentence.

“So, let’s have one on Halloween then. A joint costume party for me and you!” Kendall piped up, already shooting off what she presumed were a few text messages to his mother to grab some more supplies from the store. 

“I’m sensing I don’t have much say in this matter.” 

Jumping up from the couch with excitement, Carlos grinned, “Nope! We just have to make some decoration adjustments...”

He and Logan began bouncing ideas off of each other while the frontman was still engrossed with his messaging. Another game was beginning on the TV, but none of them were all that interested considering their new planning developments.  

It was always shocking to their assistant, the way the band could just up and decide something, then it would magically happen, just like they had hoped it would. So, if they wanted to throw a costume party in less than 48 hours, she knew it would probably be one of the best the Palm Woods had ever seen. 

Now I have to get a costume… The girl thought, settling into her scarf a bit more before James poked her in the side to catch her attention. 

“You know what comes next now, don’t you?” He practically whispered to her, as if he were about to share a secret. While she shook her head in response, she watched as his eyes darted between the other boys. “I need to know what you want for your birthday. Tell me before the others figure it out!”

The urgency in his tone was back again, but this time it made his girlfriend laugh, “Gifts are supposed to be a surprise! Besides, you already whisked me away to Los Angeles twice this year to live my dream… I couldn’t possibly ask you for anything else.”

Though he grumbled a bit at her answer, she pressed a gentle kiss to the edge of his jawline before reaching over to the coffee table and picking up the TV remote.

  “There’s gotta be something you want to do at the very least!” James was very persistent as she flipped through the channels in search of something new to put on. 

“Are you forgetting we have both school and work tomorrow?”

Coughing into his elbow, though he was very obviously faking, he followed with, “I don’t know about you but I think I’m coming down with something...” 

“Alright,” She reluctantly gave in, flipping on an old Gilmore Girls rerun. “I guess I did already track my parts for ‘Big Night’ so I shouldn’t be needed... but if Gustavo gets mad, I’m pinning it all on you.”

As he kissed her cheek in excitement, Roxy could feel the smile plastering itself across his lips. 

It was the first time in quite a while she would be looking forward to growing a bit older.

[kits-ships]

👍 🍫 for the doctor?

hi i definitely didn't miss halloween :) its definitely not november but shh!!

👍 - Do they like Halloween, or do you have to force them to participate?

i think he finds humanity's adoration of halloween very endearing. before olive can convince him to celebrate, though, he insists that he explains the holiday's origins, what samhain is, and a bunch of little fun facts like how turnips were the original jack'o'lanterns. he will also happily eat candy and watch horror movies with her, but dressing up depends on the incarnation!!

he insists that he doesnt wanna dress up..... you might get him to wear some silly glasses or something, though

YES OFC. he'd be something goofy like a squirrel.

he initially says no, but olive eventually convinces him to go shopping with her and he falls in love with some regal vampire outfit. three will pretend like he's only getting it for her but actually loves it and flaunts around all day

you dont even have to ask. he originally wants to be over the top with a handmade mask, an intricate outfit, and some props, but he gets distracted and almost forgets halloween entirely. olive ends up making him some little ears and draws a nose on him so that he can be a bear. its a little last minute, but the tardis comes in clutch with a brown sweater and corduroy pants!!

he says he doesn't want to dress up but he also can't say no to olive. as to not push him too far, she draws a lil nose on him again and gives him some ears and a tail so that he can achieve full, golden retriever energy. he is embarrassed.

he gives olive a firm 'no'. peri tries to tease him into dressing up by talking about how dreadful his usual outfit his, but he ends up just sulking into olive's side for the rest of the night. if anyone asks, hes joseph in the technicolor dreamcoat

he considers it and acts like his answer is no, but he secretly goes off and finds the absolute goofiest costume he can find. like, this man would show up to olives door dressed as buttercup with ace in a bubbles costume. it doesnt matter if she already had an outfit planned because olive has to be blossom ofc!!

he is sappy and wants couples costumes; even if they aren't planning on going out. after going through the tardis' wardrobe, they eventually settle on mr darcy and elizabeth bennet

he says no, but olive gently coaxes him into the idea as long as the costume isn't too overbearing. they end up adding a bandana and sunglasses to his usual look so that he can be a biker :)

oh he was planning on it. but, as excited as he was to dress up, it takes them the whole month to figure out what to go as. through the use of the internet, they eventually decide to be tuxedo mask and sailor moon (even though olive doesnt know anything about the show/manga)

he is so excited to dress up as something cool and scary but, as soon as they walk into the store, he is enraptured by the countless onesies and insists on choosing one of them. he loves that they can be a costume and pajamas!! olive chooses a silly lil monkey onesie for him and he picks a bunny onesie for her

'i dont wanna dress up' shhh. yes you do. clara and olive manage to get him to wear a ghostbusters uniform and, after spending a good amount of time trying to boost his confidence and inflate his ego, the other two decide to be some kind of ghost or ghoul.

oh my god. she insists on it. the whole fam has to get into it, too, and she spends so long trying to search for group costumes. eventually, they settle on horror icons!! the doctor dresses up as freddy krueger, olive is annabelle, yaz chose chucky, graham is jason, dan is forced to be michael myers, and ryan is secretly excited to be ghostface. the doctor also demands that they try to be 'in character' as they go trick or treating

🍫 - What is their favorite candy/treat?

okay after that massive list im only giving a simple answer.

olive likes getting lollipops and pretzels (she's gettin old smh) and the doctor loves hershey bars, starbursts, and double bubble so he can blow obnoxiously large bubbles!!!!!!

[ourlittleforever]

🧠, 💬, 🍼, 🧁 for your and rem's kids??? - osalesoffeeling

Thank you dear!! ♥️

I'm gonna focus on Ivy and Briar here, since I'm still working on stuff for Willow and Aspen, the twins!

🧠: which emotional traits does your child get from you? which do they get from your f/o?

Ivy's quieter and more introverted, like I am. Briar is brash and bold, and loves to be in the spotlight! She's more like her papa.

💬: what was your child's first word? was it a nickname for you or your f/o or something entirely different?

Both of theirs was "mama!" It was so sweet 🥺

🍼: what's your child's comfort item and where did it come from? is it a hand-me-down?

Ivy's comfort item is a little teddy bear, given to her by her papa the day she was born. It's by her side at all times.

Briar's comfort item is a big, comfy sweater that I made for her. She's worn holes in it that I've mended time and time again.

🧁: what's your child's favorite thing in the world? what's their least favorite thing?

Ivy loves taking rides on her papa's gryff and seeing Innistrad from above!

Briar, on the other hand, has a fear of heights and prefers staying on the ground. Her favorite activity is exploring the woods (with parental supervision, of course) and helping me with my potions.

Ivy is very arachnophobic, so spiders are her absolute least favorite thing. Briar is more relaxed around bugs but HATES turnips.