#usually most we do are flowers soo..

[querido-eh-dump]

[tteokdoroki]

hi hi !! :3 first off ur new theme is soo so cute!! n for your valentines event i wanted to send in one for satoru + an amusement park date as the gift !! you can make it sweet or spicy but i don’t have a specific kink in mind for it so that’s free range for ya ehehe

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. swipe spicy: high on you.

about. boom, it’s a match! satoru gojo has always come up with creative ways to celebrate the most romantic day of the year. this time, he decides to make things a little naughtier atop a ferris wheel ride ( 1.4K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, established relationships, fingering, public sex, exhibitionism, also ik ferris wheels don’t exist at amusement parks shuddap!! fem!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

every valentine’s day you’ve spent with satoru has been unique. different. 

for your first, he’d filled every corner of your apartment with every type of flower he could possible find because he wasn’t sure what type was your favourite (he was too nervous to ask). for the second, he’d rented out an entire aquarium for you to walk through and dragging him through each exhibition with pure unfiltered joy. for the Valentine’s Day that he had proposed — your third or fourth, satoru had rented a plane that carried the message ‘will you marry me?’ to fly over your rooftop dinner date. you’d said yes, of course, and every day with satoru since had been a wild ride. 

even now, years into your life together, he remained just as crafty and as adventurous as satoru’s gojo had always been. 

“s-satoru!” you squeal needily, tucking your face into your lover’s shoulder in a weak attempt to muffle your weak cries and trembling voice. “‘toru please. n-not here. n-not now,” you add when his slender and inquisitive fingers dip past the waistband of your jeans and the scalloped edge of your cotton panties. he’s been like this all day, feeling you up in line for different rides, licking the sugar from your fingers outside overpriced concessions stands dotted across the amusement park he'd taken you to. and now, satoru’s ravenousness has come to a head — with him trying to finger fuck you at the top of the ferris wheel. “p-people are around!” 

while typically a romantic spot to watch the world go by, the white haired man has his heart set on making you squirm and cry at the highest peak of the ride. “that’s what makes this all the more fun, right baby?” his digits flex under the rough denim of your jeans in an attempt to get a feel for your wetness all while  gojo whispers sinful words against the shell of your ear — hot breath cascading down the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. “relax for me, we’re too high up for anyone to notice. let me make you feel good, yeah?”

your hips buck down against your lover’s hand for a taste of friction — chasing the blistering hot sensation that spreads through your lower tummy once his fingertips come into contact with your swelling, pulsating clit. the very notion of your body succumbing to a few of gojo’s simple touches has him chuckling breathily in your ear, his voice an octave lower than usual. you can’t help the instinctual response of your quivering, a stream of wetness gathering in the seat of your underwear too. 

“do you think i can make you cum by the time we reach the top?” satoru mumbles huskily, lowering his head to your neck so that he can place hot, sloppy kisses to your exposed skin — contrasting with the night air. tufts of white hair tickle at your jaw, sending you into a fit of shakes and shivers that make your cart of the ferris wheel rock back and forth. “don’t answer that, i know i can.” he’s cocky when he teases you and has every right to be, your thighs twitch apart instinctively to make space for satoru’s hand between them. 

he skilfully massages your pretty little pussy even from underneath tight denim jeans, circling in your entrance as it dribbles sweet salacious nectar for him. so much so, that you might soil the fabric of your clothes. if your arousal seeps through, would you drip and gush on all those people below? the thought crosses your might and only serves to turn you on even more — evident in the way you clench around nothing as gojo plays with your empty hole. 

“m-mph, satoru,” you hiccup, only tilting your head to face his. your noses nudge slightly, lips ghosting over one another’s while your hot breath mingles. to anyone else — you appear a couple in love, innocently kissing, enjoying a date to the amusement park, and a ride to the top of the ferris wheel. but you’re far from that, and you know it, two delightfully sinful individuals who can’t keep their hands off of one another. “m-more!” 

gojo obliges, and you thank whatever diety is up above for blessing him with such magical fingers. two of them slide past your entrance without resistance, stretching your gooey and sensitive walls around their length easily. “hm? what’s the matter, baby?” comes the silver haired man’s lazy response, a sleazy smirk spreading across his plush pink lips at the sound of you squelching around him already. you shake your head at his question, eyes screwed shut since you’re too far gone with the pleasure to answer coherently.  

from your side, gojo uses his free hand to keep you nice and spread for him — sapphire eyes glowing in the dark night whilst remaining trained on the way your hips jut down to push back against his fingers inside of you. “god you’re so fuckin’ wet. you really like this, huh? all tbose unsuspecting people below…having no idea that i’m fucking your pussy open right above their heads,” he purrs hungrily and curls his fingers, instantly finding your g-spot because he’s mapped out every inch of your sopping walls and knows them off by heart. “taste yourself for me.” 

your lips part on command and tongue rolls out of your mouth to make room for the fingers that have been inside you — sucking on them diligently when satoru presses down on the palette of your tongue. he gets off to the way you taste yourself, moaning around him nastily. you should feel shame and humiliation for acting like this in public, all desperate and needy, but you’re as ravenous and as depraved as satoru is. it’s what makes you a match made in heaven. 

with his fingers now tainted with a crude mix of your saliva and arousal, satoru returns them to your temperate and sopping mound — stuffing you full of him once more. he’s knuckle deep in your cunt before you can even moan his name, stroking your insides into the shape of him while you drool syrupy evidence of your arousal into the seat of his palm. 

“we’re almost to the top, brace yourself, pretty girl. i gotta see you cum. it’ll give me the prettiest view.” satoru coos to you patronisingly, making sure to grind his wrist against your puffy clit — refusing to let it go unattended. “can you do that for me?” 

everything is so sticky and hot, especially with all of the layers of clothes in the way — shielding your dirty act from any onlookers on the ground or in the carts below you. strings of your slick tie satoru’s fingers to your honeyed sex and glue this thumb to your sensitive nub, tucked away between your puffy pussy lips. you claw at the silver haired man’s arm trapped in the middle of your quivering thighs band writhe around in the cart so much so that it creaks with the weight.

you whimper into the cool night air, but satoru lights your body on fire from the inside out — your gut lurching and twisting with an unbearable sense of yearning. “‘m close… think i’m gonna—“ you begin to stutter, bleating like a lamb being sent to the slaughter. you remain at the mercy of your boyfriend’s fast paced fingers, pumping in and out of you with no regard to the painful stack of ecstasy building up inside of you. “please, i can’t hold it, ‘toru,” 

“you don’t have to,” your lover tsks in reply, never slowing the speed of his digits stroking at your ribbed walls, slipping and sliding against pleasure spots only he knows exist. “why don’t you let go for me, yeah? there you go. that’s it… just like that and all for me,” satoru’s mouth find yours in the final stretch, sloppy praises whispered against your kiss swollen lips while he rubs over your luscious and equally swollen folds like his life depends on it. “let the people down there know how fuckin’ good i finger fuck this sweet pussy. cum for me baby, i know you can do it.” 

each syllable, each impassioned word that escapes him and that he pours into you drags you by the ankle towards your high — and you don’t even try to fight it. once you reach the very top of the ferris wheel, your peak reaches a crescendo. satoru flings himself over you, arm arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you in place in the cart as your orgasm crashes over you in drowning waves. you slip beneath the surface of pleasure, your cunt rushing like a river while you cum all over satoru’s masterful hand with a muffled cry of his name. 

“satoru!” 

“shh, quiet…that’s my girl, my sweet sweet girl.” he sighs dreamily, fucking you with your fingers throughout your high — only pulling out of your greedy cunt to slap down on it, dragging more spurts of arousal out of you. you squirt through your jeans, onto the metal seat in your ferris wheel cart and all over satoru. who happily praises you through it all. “i bet you’re just drippin’ on all those nasty strangers below. i’m sure they’d love it.” 

catching your breath, you tuck your face into satoru’s neck while you come down from your high (and literally too — your cart begins to make its descent back town from the top of the ferris wheel). “y-you’re sick.”

satoru smiles, slow and sexy. “but you love me,” 

“mhm, sure,” you quip, somehow finding the energy to pull away from your debauched lover to shift to your knees in front of him — the cool metal digging into your knees. “maybe i love you just a little.” 

“only a little? then why are you on your knees for me?” he asks, spreading his legs to make room for you between them. 

“it’s your turn, i want to see if i can make you come before we get to the bottom of the wheel.” you say breathlessly and with mirthy eyes, teeth descending on gojo’s zipper while you bat your eyelashes up at him. 

celebrating valentine’s day with satoru was always…unique. different…but you’d be lying if you said you failed to enjoy his unconventional methods of gift giving with the person you loved most. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[sakuraszn]

— DATE NIGHT ! ₊ ⊹

starring : e!42 miles morales (aged up)

word count : 869 | somewhat proofread.

synopsis : you and miles been dating for 9 months but recently you two haven’t gotten a chance to spend some quality time together because of his job but that quickly goes away until now..

warnings/notes : minimal cursing, fluff, a lil suggestive?, just a whole lotta lovey dovey stuff goin on here soo if you don’t like it then I suggest you exit stage left 💁🏾‍♀️. btw the reader doesn’t know that miles is the prowler yet, all she knows is that he has some job that has something to do with “helping people” just to let you guys know. miles is 17 in the fic as well!!

my babyyyy!♾️ :

be ready in an hour, i’m coming to pick you up

and wear sumn fancy !

you got that text an hour ago and your leg bounced up and down in anticipation. what could he be up to? you wanted to question him at the time but knowing him he likes to surprise you and most likely would tell you to ‘just wait and see’

so now here you are in your cozy bedroom, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your skin. you stand in front of a mirror, your reflection staring back at you as you make sure you look good. you cannot stop the way your eyes sparkle with expectancy as you start applying some more lip gloss.

buzz.

you whip your head to where your phone vibrates on your vanity and make your way towards it as you unlock it and see it’s a text from no other than your boyfriend Miles.

my babyyyy!♾️ :

I’m outside. come open the door.

you could’ve sworn your heart dropped to your ass when you got that message. you don’t know why but your heart starts beating faster than usual, as if it's doing a little dance inside your chest and a million tiny butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, creating a swirling sensation. taking a deep breath you sigh and make your way towards the door.

The soft clicks of your heels echo in the room. you takes one last deep breath, you grabbed the door handle, and open it wide open.

and there he was.

Miles standing there at the front door, a warm smile lighting up his face. In his hands, he holds a breathtaking bouquet of flowers, a vibrant burst of colors that captivates the eye. The bouquet is carefully arranged, with delicate roses and babies breath coming together to create a stunning display.

his eyes racks your body up and down as he licks his lips slowly. His heart beats a little faster, knowing that you’re his. the way that dress hugs your figure perfectly, how you did your hair, those elegant heels, and your beautiful face looking up at him in shock. His legs almost buckled at the mere sight of you.

“damnn, look at you mami. tú ves absolutamente hermosa..” he says finally reverting his roaming eyes to yours. you cannot help the smile spreading across your face. (you look absolutely beautiful.)

“thank you baby, and you look handsome.” he was wearing a sleek white dress shirt with black dress pants with a pair of shiny dress shoes that completed the polished look, mind you, this isn’t his style but he tried his best.

he handed you the bouquet and your eyes started to water.

“Miles…these are absolutely beautiful,” you say as you admire the beautiful display of flowers that are cradling in your arms.

he pulls you in by the waist as he rests his hand on the dip of your back and kisses your cheek, “we haven’t been able to get some alone time since I’ve been really busy lately with work so, I took it upon myself to take you out to dinner and spoil you a bit.”

you look up to him as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to your body, both bodies are drawn together, feeling the warmth and closeness. you two both locked in an intense gaze. As you lean in closer, his and your hearts race with anticipation, and your lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss, filled with a mix of desire and affection. You feel Miles’s hands creep down and squeeze your butt.

You pull away from the kiss removing his hands from your body.

“Boy, what I tell you about your hands roaming.” you sighed

He raised his hands in defense, “My bad, it won’t happen again.”

“sure, it won’t,” you side-eyed your boyfriend and made your way to the kitchen counter with him following pursuit as he closes the door behind him. you put the flowers in an empty vase and put some water in there to keep the flowers hydrated.

“seriously though, thanks for this baby. I really missed you and I understand that you’re busy with your work but it would be nice for us to spend more time together.” you say turning around to face him.

“I know, I know,” he comes up to you and takes your hand, “I promise that I will try my very hardest to make my girl satisfied.” your knuckles made their way to his lips as he kissed them softly.

“Now, it’s time for us to go. I reserved our seats at that new restaurant that opened up in downtown New, York. So, we gotta get going.” he simply states as he grabs your purse that was sitting on the counter and holds it for you.

“really?! the one that just opened up last week??” you squeal. you’ve been dying to go there, people have been talking about it for the last few days and you wanted to see what the whole hype was about.

he hummed in agreement.

“god, I love you miles.”

“and I love you more, mi princesa.”

© SAKURASZN !

[2kverrr]

MIKE MUNROE - Dating Headcanons

UNTIL DAWN || Mike Munroe x reader

he’s known not only by the group to be a player, but also by your entire school.

so when he started trying to talk to you a bit more, you were more than prepared to shut. it. down.

there was a sour ending between him and emily soon after hannah and beth’s disappearance, and at this rate, jessica too (she was clearly still hung up over their summer fling).

his confidence surpassed yours and he was relentless. joining you ashley and sam, uninvited and unexpected:

“hey guys, what’re we talking about” the brunette seats himself next to you, purposefully nudging your shoulder. “we were talking about y/n’s next cheer competition” sam sighs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms as mike slowly starts to put his arm around you, “erm- what is this?” ash points, glaring at your arm, causing you to look down to see his big, tan hands creeping around your shoulder. at an instant, you shrug him off as your face flushes red. this boy was going to be the death of you.

pulling you out of classes with white lies to your teachers:

“yeah, she needs to head to the attendance office” he beams his charming smile towards the teacher then winks at you. “what the fuck do you want?” you query with hands on your hips stepping out of your english lit class. “you.”

notes in your locker. but it as sweet as the action was, it didn’t phase you, you didn’t want to be his next side-piece:

roses are red, violets are blue. flowers mean shit, i want you.

me, you, a couple of beers and my dads garage?

why are you playing so hard to get, we’ve known each other for like forever. you only make me like you more.

eventually you’d received the painfully awkward video message from josh, opening his lodge up on mount blackwood for the winter.

you’d had message after message from the boy, invites and offers to take transport together, it was a little bit sad how hard he was trying, he usually breathes in a girl’s direction and they’re ready to chew his food for him.

so you accepted, you’d known him since you were 5 after all, what’s the harm?

and then it started, all with him asking to hold your hand on the ski lift, insisting his left hand was cold. pathetic but cute.

during this you were spotted by a wild josh, lively and charismatic as ever considering the circumstances, he made sure to let everybody within a 20 mile radius know of his suspicions upon the two of you.

the attention had its positives and negatives. jess didn’t approve, nor did sam. josh, chris and ashley were happy as ever. nobody ever knew what emily was really thinking so you tried your hardest to ignore it, whereas matt was glad mike was busy with anyone but his ex.

“soo… i think it’d be wrong not to ask you out right now.”

you honestly thought, from the deepest most sincere part of your heart, believed your were mike-proof. but through all his little tactics he managed to make you actually like him, romantically.

a lot of girls gave off the wrong impression of mike; man-whore, cheater, horndog. maybe they were the problem because you couldn’t ask for anyone better.

he cooks surprisingly well, though he refuses to wash up, he has some pretty good experience in the kitchen.

he doesn’t mind too much about what you do and where you go, maybe it’s because you’re the same with him, unlike one emily davis, “a human gps with my location on lock and an accusation weapon system activated”

he always smells good. he has gone through at least 4 of his favourite colognes within the past year, which also means you’ve got an easy birthday/Christmas present option.

weirdly enough, he loves going on shopping trips with you. you think he’s pretty useful fashion-wise whereas he always enjoys convincing you into ‘rating your clothes’, aka - watching his girlfriend undress while sitting in silence.

amongst these positives, you can only name one terrible feature with mike. he’s a snorer. not just a little soft breathy snore. it’s a full on mouth open, putting his entire body weight on you, speakers blasting snores. it could also easily be mistaken for a helicopter taking off.

eventually emily warms up to your relationship, managing to see eye to eye with you. you’ll never know what her ulterior motive is but you have enough trust in mike to bat off her ways.

[beefboyandbabygirl]

Good Luck, Fermata Tower (18+)

pairing: fire-lookout!seungcheol x female!fire-lookout!reader

genre: firewatch au LMAO, smut (MDNI), soo much angst, COMFORT, fluff

description: after the death of your roommate you have to find a greater purpose to life. what better way than to became a fire lookout with a surprisingly charismatic neighbour tower?

warnings: this fic is a lot, please read ALL warnings. SUICIDE, implied suicidal thoughts, major character death 2x, reader goes through grief, so does seungcheol, AGE GAP, RADIO SEX??? LMAOOO, dirty talk, petnames, cockwarming, pentrative sex, strength kink, f. and m. masturbation (mutual?), PINING TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE, MENTIONS OF DOING DRUGS/DOING SHROOMS, talks of drowning, if u know the game i think you'll be able to visualize the beauty of this way more, intensive writing on the scenery and the emotions, LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASe

quotes from babygirl (@joshibambi): "im getting out lana", "im just gonna be making animal sounds", "can we make this into a play so i can perform this?", "OF ALL THE THINGS THAT COULD MAKE ME CRY IT WAS THE DESCRIPTION OF HIS HOT ASS FACE"

wordcount: 13.9k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGCHEOL. i love this fic. the writing is a little novelly for a fic, but i was so passionate ab this whole firewatch thing and i got SO INTO the arcs and their personal losses and i just really love yn and seungcheol. i hope this was worth the wait and i apologize for not finishing sooner. all my love, beefboy

You and Mingyu meet at college at some parkour club that you’d both joined to make friends. You face-plant into the pavement and knock out a tooth and Mingyu takes you to a nearby hospital. You click instantly. 

You and Mingyu spend every moment together - you help him and he helps you. Mingyu is smart, you realize. He knows all the formulas in your mathematics course by heart. You tell him he’s smart and he says that no one else seems to think that.

You and Mingyu are best friends. You have matching necklaces that complete a heart. 

You and Mingyu party together and when you get too drunk, he carries you down the halls, home. Sometimes at night he sleeps in your bed. 

Your friend group thinks you’re dating, but you think you and Mingyu are something much more earnest than lovers. You think Mingyu is your soulmate. 

You piggy-back ride Mingyu at graduation and you give him a peck on the cheek when he shakes hands with the dean. 

You and Mingyu become roommates. You binge-watch terrible movies together and hold drinking games. It’s hard to admit some of your favorite memories are from watching the Alvin and The Chipmunks trilogy. 

The night before it happens you and Mingyu eat dinner together that he cooked. You see his snaggletooth every time he smiles. 

You’d almost lived together for two years that morning. He usually wakes earlier than you, but he is nowhere to be seen. The apartment is oddly still. You feel trapped. 

You enter Mingyu’s room.

You think he’s asleep. You leave him alone. 

Two hours later you grow worried. You enter his room to find him in the same position. You shake him. Mingyu doesn’t wake. 

The doctors say a case like Mingyu’s is extremely rare - he was in great shape. You’re not sure if that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

Mingyu’s funeral is grim. His death is so terrible, says the pastor, because it’s so domestic. You think it’s terrible because he is - was - the brightest, most amazing person to walk the earth. His parents want you to hold a speech, but you can’t find the words. You think you might sob if you go up there. You sob anyway. The flowers form a ring on the floor of the church and your soulmate is dead.

You can’t sleep anymore. You imagine him dying, left arm numb, alone in the dead of night and choking out your name, reaching for the thin wall that separated you. You cry for a whole month. The apartment is cursed so you live with your parents. 

One day, you see an ad for a job in the paper. 

You take it.  _____________________________

“Hello?” 

Static stormed the tower-house when the other end cut off.

“Are you there?” 

Your eyes frantically darted around the cabin. It was no more than a 13 foot rectangle and yet your tired eyes couldn’t find the radio, churning out a gruff voice. 

You’d just arrived, barely turned on the generator to allow light in. It was nighttime. The park’s dips and peaks were veiled in blue; the silhouettes of the trees, forking out in long, thin spikes, were navy and the lake Fermata was the brightest, glittering pearl from the moon above. Stars twinkled knowingly at you. 

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side. 

“Yeah, hi, I’m here,” you breathed out tiredly. You let go of the button and a small bit of static spoke back to you. 

“Y/n?” 

“Mhm.” 

“I’m Seungcheol. I’m in Bay Valley Tower. It’s to the east. Saw your light turn on,” His voice was gruff, laced with sleep. It had a rasp at every vowel, strings of vocal chords straining to spit out the words in between sticky ropes of bile. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. You had nothing else to say. The flimsy, one person bed beckoned to your tired body. You moved, like a doll, one limb at a time, into its harbor, collapsing into the thin mattress. You laid on your side, moonlight shining in from the window by the door. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, carelessly. Impatient in tone, you imagined he’d probably been through this a hundred times before. “So,” he sighed out, deeply. “What’s your problem?” 

“Hm?” 

There was a shooting star, dancing across the sky in that moment. You watched it, shuffling onto your back with half-closed eyes. Stardust sprinkled from it on the open, empty sky.

“People here are all running from something. So what’s your deal?” 

You sighed, watching the star’s open path. It could go anywhere, you thought. Then you moved your arm, holding the receiver to your mouth. 

“Listen, Seungcheol. I’ve been hiking for two days, so I’m gonna go to bed now, okay? Hopefully you’ve found some manners by the time I wake up,” you mumbled, then let go of the button (it had a harsh, grainy texture for some reason), and laid your hand, radio in it, limply at your side. 

You heard a raspy chuckle from the other end. You had no energy to be angry. 

“Alright, Fermata Tower,” there was a smile in the anonymous man’s voice. 

There was a pause. The sound of the fierce breeze carried whiffs of autumn, as it lulled you to sleep. You had almost fallen into a black, snow-buried slumber when you heard the radio crinkle again: 

“Fermata, do you see that shooting star?” 

You had no energy to respond, radio spewing static in your open hand. Thankfully, Seungcheol seemed understanding.

“That’s good luck. So...”

A moment. You and Seungcheol watched the sky-dancer, apart. 

“Good luck.”  _____________________________

“You’re awake!” 

It was Seungcheol’s voice. Transformed by the orange hues of daytime, he sounded much more alive than the night prior. 

“I can see you sitting at your desk.” 

Indeed you were sitting on your desk - a flimsy wooden thing, which looked like it had come form a yard sale - studying the map of the massive park. There were simple cartoonish figures to indicate stresses of trees and drops in the terrain, and rock quarries and waterfalls and lakes. You’d delicately pointed out your own position with red marker, scribbling ‘me’ by it with a heavy child’s hand.

It was cold - the thin boards did not do much to ward away the heavy wind, hooting creeping in the cracks. It smelled like pine needles and tea, as you’d just boiled a lavender on the kettle. IT sat, heating your fingers where it rested beside them in a mug left behind by the previous firewatchman (it read: “don’t talk to me before I’ve had my coffee”). 

The radio clattered against the wood when you clumsily picked it up. 

“Didn’t know when I signed up for this that I would be dealing with a stalker,” you joked, smiling small when you heard the man on the other end let out a hearty laugh. 

“Hey, don’t go labeling me just yet, kid.”

“Kid?!” you said incredulously, dropping the marker that you had been so diligently using to scribble excellent comments on your map (latest was: “maybe cute bears”). “How old are you?!” 

“I’m 37,” Seungcheol said.

“Oof.” 

“Hey!” 

“I’m kidding!” you laughed, dropping your pen and leaning back in your seat. The view was beautiful. You could see the lake, surrounded by a rippling sea of trees, each top reaching for the sky, like you. “I’m 27, I’m getting up there with you.”

“Just a small decade.”

“I’m mature for my age.” 

Seungcheol chuckled on the other end of the radio. You spun around in your chair (it creaked horribly - it sounded like a pig at the sight of a cleaver) surveying each square of the forest from your windows. You narrowed your eyes, trying to spot his lookout tower. 

“How come you can see me but I can’t see you?” you mumbled, now standing to try and see, but it was drowned out by the sheer volume of pinewood. Seungcheol grumbled on the other end: “I should be East.” 

“Yeah, fuck, I forgot to tell you, I think I dropped my fucking compass on the way here,” you ran a hand through your hair and frown. 

“Uh, shit, you’re gonna have to pick up a new one, bud,” he said and you slumped. “Well, if you’re facing the lake - Fermata Lake, I mean - I should be to your left.” 

You followed his instructions. You faced the lake, then took two loggy steps to face left, then squinted incessantly at the horizon. Not dissimilar to a crowd in Times Square, the trees stood toe to toe all across at every inch you spied. The pines zagged upwards like Giza, and culminated into the biggest mountain in the park, just under the sun. The mountain loomed overhead where you finally spotted the lookout tower, like a monster crouched over its prey. You tried to shake off the thought and focus on the lone, floating tower in the pit of pointy trees.

“I see you, Bay Valley,” you breathed into the radio. 

The tower looked much more lonely from so far away. It was different when you were in it, but with the miles-long stretch between you two, you found it looked so small and feeble. You could make out the light turned on within it, a rectangle of burning orange. The shooting star must’ve crossed directly between your two towers. 

“Attagirl,” Seungcheol smiles. “Do you see me waving?”

“No, what the fuck.” 

“I got binoculars.” 

“Ew, you are a stalker!” 

“It’s for bird-watching!” Seungcheol informed you, offense in his tone. You cackled into the radio. “I like watching birds, thank you very much.” 

“Jeez, can’t believe what this job does to people.” 

“I liked bird-watching before I got this job,” Seungcheol said.

“You’re so white,” you grinned. 

“I’m not even white!” 

You and Seungcheol both laughed, joyous hiccups interrupted by bursts of static and 3 miles of rocky terrain and pine needles. You squint at the sun, traversing and dipping under the jagged hedges of the tree-line. 

Your head lolled over to spot between the desk and doorway, where you’d dropped your orange backpack (a peculiar color, come to think of it - same color as the lifejacket they deploy on airplanes when everything has already gone wrong). Now it was flopped onto its side, zipper ripped open and knick knacks and crumbs at its mouth, spilling onto the floor. 

“Where do I get a new compass?” you asked, looking at a yellowed book sat beside the backpack.

“Uh, shit, gimme a sec,” Seungcheol mumbled, and before his radio cut off, you heard, briefly, the itchy scrambling of papers, and the sound made him seem a lot more real. “We have these, uh, supply boxes scattered around. ‘M readin’ this, uhhh, fuckin’ info-thing.. Should say which of them supposedly has a compass.” 

“Sounds like you really know your stuff.” 

“Get off my ass, Fermata.” 

You heard papers rustle again and a small bump before the radio cut off, as if he put the radio down on the table. You awaited, arms crossed over your pink and gray striped hoodie, and staring at sundown. Orange flooded the sky, as if it were all engulfed in flames and this was really hell. 

“Uhhh, okay, I got it! There’s one down at Eleison Valley? The code is 1-2-3-4. That’s actually the code to all of them.” 

“Secure.”

“Shut up.” 

“Well, I can get some exploring done, at least,” you frown, spying a not-so-casual hike on the dotted surface of your map, when you tangoed back to the table, fiddling with the edge of the paper. 

“Yeah. You should probably do it tomorrow though. Sun’s coming down.” 

“Yeah. Can’t believe I slept that long.” 

“Don’t feel too bad about it, kid. I was knocked out for, like, two days after the hike out here. It’s a miracle you’re already awake.” 

“Thanks, Bay Valley,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat with some strained shuffling. You watched, eyes half-lidded as the sun fully disappeared behind the curtain of the park. Its light still roamed the sky, where it hid. Half dark blue, half red, the sky twinkled at you and your insignificance brilliantly. You tried not to think about how lonely and floaty your lookout tower must look from afar. Everything feels big when it’s close enough. 

“You’re welcome, Fermata.” _____________________________

“You think I could eat any of these mushrooms, BV?” 

“BV?” 

“Bay Valley.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol sighed on his end of the radio. You were trudging through the undergrowth in your new hiking boots, lifesaver-colored backpack on the plates of your back, weight pushing through the fabric of your jacket. “No, I don’t think that would be wise.” 

“Damn it. Was gonna get hella high,” you joked, eyeing another cluster of snow-white mushrooms under the shade of a tree, sloping along a gnarly root. Your crunching steps in the loose dirt came to a halt - there was a dropoff. The cliff cut off like a broken chocolate bar and a sharp rockwall supported it to the next layer of earth. 

The path was snaking down towards the lake. You’d circle around and climb up towards Tri Forks Tower, where eventually the climbing heights would bowl into Eleison Valley - a flower field, supposedly (in the map a little flower icon alerted you of this). 

“If I die from this rockwall, please, tell my family I love them,” you grumbled, fetching an itchy, frayed rope from the depths of your backpack. Squinting at the high sun, pale drops of sweat forming around your forehead, you slung it over the hook. The park was littered with these - rusted old things that were leaning forward from years of heavy hikers’ tugging. This one was particularly bent. 

“You’re so dramatic,” came Seungcheol from the speaker. 

“Am not, man, these rocks are like fucking knives!” 

“Such a drama queen. A real Primadonna.”

You huffed and puffed as you lowered yourself down the cliffside. Your boots pressed flat against the jagged rock, biceps burning as you held yourself up and walked down the side of it. The whole world was with you, sideways, and you would’ve stopped to appreciate it were you not sure you would pass out doing so. 

“Holy shit,” you said to yourself when you were finally on stable ground and not spider-manning the mineral deposits of the park. You put your hands on your hips and squinted at its imposing open jaw. 

“You down yet, Queen B?”

You panted, grimacing, when you tugged the rope hard and it leapt down like a flying snake: “Yeah, I’m down.” 

You continued padding through the forest. The earth was dry and it was summer, but the wind was harsh and it cooled your stovetop-skin as you walked along a rock quarry, Fermata Lake hiding behind the covers of huge, flat bulwark. You listened to the cacophonous call of the forest: rustling leaves and birds. 

“I had a friend - uh, friend of a friend, actually - who, like, got high as fuck off mushrooms and had a bad trip,” you said, mouth to the mic of the radio, as you studied the cover of the leaves. 

“Yeah? What happened?” Seungcheol hummed. 

“She said that, like -- fuck,” you breathed, scrambling over a particularly rocky rock. “She said there was, like, like her house flooded. Like, water just came gushing in and the whole house was, like, underwater suddenly and she.. She thought she was gonna drown. And her fuckin’ kitchen turned into, like, a coral reef or some shit, I don’t know.” 

“Shit,” Seungcheol seemed much more alert now. You heard him put something down on his table (you imagined it was just as shitty as your own). “I didn’t even know that was possible.” 

“It’s fucking crazy. Don’t do drugs, man.” 

You turned past the quarry and was met with the sight of the huge, gaping hole of Fermata Lake. Strangely oval, the lake was flanked on all sides with thick pineland, except for a slight angle where grassy hills turned upwards towards Tri Forks Tower. 

The water was much more green up close. Algae sloshed up the side of the gravel-earth, willing you into the murky depths. 

You stared at it for a while. You thought maybe you could make out someone standing at the bottom of the bowl-shape.

“I’m at Fermata Lake,” you said then, and then started walking again. 

“Good job! And you haven’t even died at a drop off yet,” Seungcheol joked and you laughed. 

“God, you’re such a jerk. I bet you’re fuckin’.. Watching birds right now like a nerd.” 

“Okay, rude-” 

“Why don’t you go outside and be productive?” 

“I’m looking for fires,” Seungcheol snarked back. “The binoculars are multi-use.” 

You let the conversation die down for a bit, focused on the walk. It was peaceful when you let it be, but at times you came to feel like you were being swallowed alive, or like the looming figure of Aluralura Mountain was pressing its boulder-brawn in between your shoulder blades. The air in the forests was thicker, so you stayed persistent in your path, as you climbed up the clearings and spotted Tri Forks in the distance. 

“Hey, uh, Y/n?” 

The sudden intrusion of Seungcheol on the radio had you jolting, dropping the radio into the earth (thankfully it was fine - here the earth was softer and it dipped under your boot and water pressed out from the mull). You bent over and picked it back up. 

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” you scolded, wiping mud off the yellow plastic of the radio.

“Oh, uh, sorry..” 

It was only then that you noticed a meekness in Seungcheol’s voice. You, of course, had not the furthest idea what he looked like, but he sounded like he was holding a knife behind his back. You furrowed your brows and stared down the radio, as if it would give you answers. There was dirt clamoring the yellow, where your fingers had held on.

“What’s up?” you said and sounded fakely bright. 

“Well, I just-” he cut himself off with a cough, one that reached those stringent, thinning vocal cords and brought back the rasp. “I wanted to apologize. For the other night. I mean, when you came to the tower.” 

You didn’t respond, only furrowed your brow and looked out across the sun-lit moor. There was a deer traversing across the grass. 

“Uhm. Because. I was- I was kinda drunk, uh, when you came, and I know I was kinda pushy about, you know, why you came out here and all that.” 

“OH!” you exclaimed and the noise ended in a laugh. “Please, Seungcheol. Don’t worry about that. It’s fine.” 

“Okay, good,” he mumbled. 

The flower field came into view after climbing a particularly steep hill and it was a flower field - not just cartography myth. 

It was all sunflowers and catmint - a huge, long stretch of purple and yellow splotches, stemming from green, untamed grass - stretching as far as you could see, disappearing into a hill at the far horizon. You were sure the smell of pollen went for miles, flowerdust sprinkling the air in heavy coats. The path you were following split the field in two, a dry, boring gravel streak, but you saw, faded from sunlight, a once deep, now light, ashy brown box at the right side. 

“I found it!” you shrieked into the radio, a newfound strength gearing your legs into a sprint. “Fuck, yes!” 

“Good job, Fermata!” there was a smile in his voice. 

“Thank you!” 

You were also smiling, when you went up to it. It was rectangular and made of planks, held together by a metal loop and a padlock. Like everything else, it was dirty and ravished, and you felt a faint worry at the sight of scratch marks on its side. You clicked in the code: 1-2-3-4. 

The interior of the box was mostly empty. To your horror the first thing you saw was a porn magazine, which you did not dare to touch; then you saw a granola bar, which you did touch and stash away in your backpack, without any regard for how old it may have been; then came the compass, small and cheap metal and pointing out that you were, in fact, facing Northwest.

There was another item in the box. You did not initially see it, as it was taped to the interior of the lid, but when you raised your eyes, you saw it. It was a piece of paper - a note. 

Grimacing, you ripped it off where it was blowing violently in the wind, holding it tight between your fingers and smudging dirt along the untainted white. 

It read: 

‘Hey, Cheol. If you head up the path there’s a family of raccoons! I left this granola bar here so you could feed them! From Jun.’

“Hey, Seungcheol?” you said absently, staring over the blue, scribbled ink, worn out from months of rainwater dripping in through the planks. He hummed on the other end of the line. “There’s a note here for you. From a, uh, Jun?”

“Oh.”

There was a pause that you couldn’t decipher - maybe you could have, had you been there with Seungcheol. Maybe if you could read his face, his body, you could’ve known what it meant. But for now you just stood in the breeze. It was picking up, getting angrier, hurling at your clothes and hair, banishing you from the field. The flowers dangled uselessly. 

“Do you want me to read it to you?” 

Silence. 

“No, not really.” 

“Oh, okay. Uh, who’s- who’s Jun?” 

Silence. 

“The guy who used to work in Fermata Tower. Before you.” 

“Oh.” 

Every second was longer than the last. You wish you knew what it all meant, but you sensed in Seungcheol’s curtness that he was not taking questions currently, and so you looked around the quickly graying sky and the suddenly spiteful wind and folded the note away in your jacket pocket. 

“I’m gonna head back now,” even your voice was rocked by the wind. 

Seungcheol didn’t respond. 

You left Eleison Valley alone.  _____________________________

This was where it was supposed to be - greatness. Not success, but something greater, larger, more alive than you could ever be. You thought you’d find it in the mountains, the valleys, the lakes and the forests and maybe that had been naive of you - to think that nature and earth could give any sort of meaning that death had taken away from you. These shadowed parts only served to make you feel smaller, you realized. The mountains glared at you, the forests swallowed and spat you out. 

You couldn’t sleep. The image of Mingyu’s outstretched hand was back and you could almost see him from your flimsy bed, lying on his back with a tanned hand out for you. You left him alone, just like you always had. 

Burrowed under the veil of your thin blanket, grabbing at it with clumsy hands, you turned your back to Mingyu’s corpse on your floor.

A prickle sauntered up your back. It was that emotion that something was creeping closer, something was out to get you. That you would feel a cool, dead hand on your back and when it would spin you around his face would be there, and he’d look nothing like himself; he’d be pale and purple around the mouth and his eyes would be sunken and dark and all the glitter he possessed - that he used to possess - would be gone and something menacing, like a hungry mountain, would have replaced it. 

You thrashed, suddenly, to look back at the corpse. It was still there. Hadn’t moved an inch. Deja vu. 

Thoughtlessly, desperately, you fumbled for the radio wrapped up the sheets of your bed. Your fingertips found the plastic hardware, and it bounced at your eagerness, before you pulled it along the sheets and up to your mouth. 

“Seungcheol?” you gasped. 

When did you start crying? You decided you must’ve been crying all night and maybe you’d cried so much that your brain had stopped registering the feeling of wet tears. 

There was a pause. A long one. So long, you started to really become aware of the cries of the wind, the patter of the rain and the endless mumbling of the trees (and the gargled, bubbling blood rising from Imaginary Friend Mingyu’s half-open mouth). Then static spoke back to you: 

“Yeah?” his voice was so raspy, you registered that you must’ve awoken him from his sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your nails dug into the radio and you pressed it into your chest, holding on tight. 

“I can’t sleep,” you whispered, words full of shaky air. There was another pause and for a second you feared that Seungcheol might’ve gotten angry and gone back to bed. But he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” You heard rustling on his end, and you imagined him standing up from the bed, looking out at your lonely island of a lookout tower. “Do I need to trek over there?” 

“No!- no, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you protested, then trailed off. 

“... Are you crying?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut: “I just- d’you remember what I said? About my- my friend’s friend who- who had a bad mushroom trip?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. Her- Her house flooded, right?” Seungcheol’s voice was tainted with thorough confusion, but not annoyance. Never annoyance. 

“Well, I just-” you sputtered and sighed. You almost wanted to stop talking and give up when Seungcheol stayed quiet on his end and drew the words forward: “It’s so stupid. Sometimes I just- I just feel like that. Like you’re drowning, everywhere you go. You know?” 

Your voice was stringent with nervousness, and you picked at your nail, wrapped around the radio in the shallow dark. 

“It’s not stupid, sweetheart,” he mumbled. It was amazing to you how gruff and tough Seungcheol turned soothing and caring so fast. The nickname felt like a warm hug, and you almost didn’t register the sound of fabric rustling once more. “I’m coming over.”

“N-No!” you gasped sharply. Your eyes flickered down. Mingyu watched from the floor, eyes glazed over from death. He smelled foul.

“Can you.. Can you just- talk to me?” you whispered helplessly, and Seungcheol quieted down, seemingly weighing your proposal. 

“Okay. Okay, sweetheart, I’ll talk to you,” Seungcheol whispered soothingly, and for God’s sake, you didn’t even know what he looked like, but the rasp in his voice, and the comfort and warmth that sung out the speaker of the radio had your heart clenching in your chest. “What do you wanna talk about?” 

“Um, I don’t know,” you sniffled. Seungcheol only softened his voice and sat, awake in the middle of the night, comforting you.

“Can I tell you about birds?” 

He told you about birds for 45 minutes before you fell asleep (something he had predicted would happen); he told you about how pheasants are known for their striking colors and how they have excellent eyesight; he told you how he saw a nightjar just before going to bed that night, and how they’re incredibly hard to spot; he told you about Barrow’s Goldeneyes, and how they’re the funniest little guys, and he loves them, because they glow purple in the sunlight; he told you about g…

Oh. You must’ve started dozing off.  _____________________________

You weren’t sure when it changed, but at some point you looked out the window, and the mountain looked a lot more like yourself. 

You were getting better, happier, you were waking up with more energy, you were bubblier. You weren’t entirely sure you could blame it on the park though. For two months you’d had your job and for about two months, every once in a while, you’d radioed Seungcheol at night, and without any question, he’d tell you about birds. 

It sounded stupid the more you thought about it, but his voice lulled you into a comfortable sleep even on Mingyu’s most insistent nights. 

You’d wake up and patrol your area, then you’d settle back in for a couple of hours, watching out for fire hazards and guests in the park, before you’d patrol one more time. Then you’d go to bed. 

This was not the type of job you took to make friends, but somehow Seungcheol had become the reason you woke up everyday. Everyday you looked forward to walking through the woods with his voice on your radio, and you looked forward to making him laugh and him making you laugh. 

“Seungcheol, I’ve got eyes on what I’m pretty sure is a Red-breasted Merganser, come in.” 

This morning you were up extraordinarily early - for you, that is. You weren’t certain what exactly prompted this early rise (maybe you were finally sleeping right thanks to a certain rough-throated man?), but nonetheless you’d enjoyed the view of dawn along the undergrowth and had eaten half-warm oatmeal in bed with an open book. Now you were bored and craving the attention of your only forest-companion. 

Seungcheol didn’t respond like you were expecting though. When the radio crinkled in response, you heard him panting on the other end and thumps, like he was picking it up off the floor. 

“That’s… That’s great, Fermata. I’ve gotta get my.. My binoculars out,” he heaved for air and fumbled clumsily with the sensitive mic. You cringed at the sound. 

“What are you doing? Why are you so out of breath?” you asked. A twinge of worry slipped out in your tone. Was he okay? 

“I’m, uh, working out,” Seungcheol chuckled, and he seemed to finally regain composure, clearing his throat sheepishly. “You’re not usually awake to hear it.” 

“You work out every day?” 

“Sure do - gotta be prepared to knock out a grizzly,” he grunted. 

You leaned back in your seat, a less than amused expression on your face, because a twirling strand of fire danced up your chest and settled into your cheeks. Why was it suddenly so hot? Fire spread across your nerve endings and twinged you red in the apples of your cheeks. You ran your hands over your face to soothe the sizzling.

This was ridiculous, you thought. Seungcheol was not making you blush. You didn’t even know what he looked like! He might as well have had an eye patch and a mohawk. But even as you halfheartedly scrutinized yourself, your thoughts clouded over the idea of sweet, attentive, raspy Seungcheol with big arms and thighs and a sculpted chest and-

“Are you- are you, like, buff?” 

The question left your lips before you could stop it. Your voice broke halfway through the sentence and you let go of the button with an embarrassed hiss, like a kettle huffing out air. The embarrassment, that was potent and squeezing at your chest, worsened when you heard Seungcheol’s throaty chuckle on the other end, limp and dry. 

“You’re curious today, aren’t you?” he mused then, smirk clear from the tone and pronunciation of the words, and you squeezed your eyes shut because why was his voice and the thought of him and the warmth coming through the radio speaker suddenly bothering you so much?

The truth was you hadn’t masturbated in months. With everything going on, you simply hadn’t felt the urge or the want. But, it occurred to you, now that you were slowly becoming a functioning human once more, the urge was returning hot and fast in your core, and, of course, your only companion with the raspy voice and the attentive words and the apparently muscly body was bringing forth this urge with ease. 

You pressed down the urge, taking a deep breath before you pressed the button once more. You were not going to masturbate to the thought of Seungcheol - not Seungcheol who you only knew by voice, who had been nothing but caring and sweet to you. You could not corrupt the preciousness of your companionship with your lewd, depraved thoughts. 

“I’m just curious what you look like. Unlike you, stalker, I don’t have binoculars!” That sounded a lot more like the you that had not just gotten wet at the thought of Seungcheol’s bulging muscles. 

“Hey! The power of the binoculars is limited. I can only really see your silhouette, nothing fancy,” he defended and then right as you were about to respond, he knocked the wind out of you again: “And yes, I’m pretty buff, if I do say so myself.”

Ugh. 

You went the rounds that day and got through another day without having to complete fire protocol, ending out the evening with a pack of instant noodles your family had so graciously sent you (Seungcheol scolded you: “That has no nutrients!”). However each step through the forest and each slurp of noodles and page of your book was plagued by the latent fire inside you. A burning occupied your abdomen fueled by the echoing morning voice of Bay Valley Tower. 

By nightfall you gave in. You were only a girl. This didn’t have to change anything, you thought, as the park turned plum purple. You settled into bed in your pajamas, sitting upright against the frail wood wall and letting your hair bunch on the rattling plate of glass. Your eyes moved to and fro, bouncing over the now lived-in cabin and taking in the dark void of the farest corner. 

Briefly, you fiddled with your radio in your palm. You could call Seungcheol and- wait, why would you do that? No, no. You packed away that wicked thought - it only served to make you feel more guilty. No, instead you slid down the wall to lay in your pillow, now positive you were alone. 

An owl hooted outside and you slipped your hand into your underwear. 

It was surprisingly easy to surrender your consciousness to the lust (and you had, God bless your soul, stayed wet throughout the entire day). It clouded you over, as you began rubbing up and down your pussy, ghosting over your clit to dip down to your glazed slit. Your eyes squeezed shut and you conjured your best doll-replica of Seungcheol.

In your dream he was a faceless mist, but he had a carved upper body, and from the fog surrounding his head spewed his voice - dripping in warmth and comfort, as you imagined it was his toned arm reaching between your legs and pumping into you.

Your other hand snaked down to your clit, where your hips canted off the bed. In the whirl of thrusting into yourself and rubbing tight circles in your clit, you realized, lip bitten raw under your prying teeth, that there was no reason to hold back your moans. It was only forest and wasteland for miles - and surely Seungcheol would not hear you in his floating snow globe. 

“A-ah, Seungcheol,” you wantonly murmured, burying your head in your pillow and sighing lazily. A flush had crept up your neck, where your chest expanded to allow for air. The pleasure was immense - probably more intense, since it had been quite a while - warmth spreading in your lower stomach and culminating at your throbbing clit. Recklessly, you moaned and thrashed as you fucked yourself on your fingers, hiking towards your orgasm. “Seungcheoool-”

“Y/n?” 

You froze. 

Maybe you’d imagined it. Still, your fingers were stopped in their tracks, simply resting on the warmth of your folds, itching to continue. You sat up in bed and tried to ward away the creeping panic. Your heart began to gallop to the beat of a siren. 

The air had been starched when you finally pulled your hand out of your underwear, hot cheeks and glistening hands all over, when you began searching for the radio.

“Y/n, are you okay?” 

You had your back hunched over the edge of the bed, searching for the little yellow receiver, when his voice came again in a thick forest of static. You snapped your head to under your comforter, where the noise was slightly muffled. 

In a blurred panic, you threw the comforter off of you and spotted the small radio by your calf, and you scrambled to pick it up. When the dirty plastic touched your cheek, you stopped, sighed a shaky, hot breath, and closed your eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m fine. What’s up?” you let go of the button and cringed at your own disheveledness, the breath and shake in your voice. You pressed your forehead radio-front in a silent prayer. 

There was a hesitance to Seungcheol when he spoke next: “... You were calling for me, you sounded in pain?” 

This was certainly the worst thing he could’ve said. You would’ve rather he told you he spotted a bear at the foot of your tower, trying to eat you! You must’ve accidentally kicked the radio and hit the button, you decide, and you damn yourself for keeping it in the bed - of course, shit like this would happen!

“I was…-” (If only you were a better liar), “- pranking you…” 

Seungcheol huffed out in amusement on the other end and you wanted to jump off the railing to the lookout tower and break your neck. “You were pranking me?” 

You gulped with a decidedly dry mouth. “It was a bear attack prank.” 

Seungcheol was smiling: “Yeah?” 

You were not: “Yeah.” 

There was an entropic silence, where you thoughts came rambled and pleading in your head: Please, just let this go, please, just let this go, let’s pretend it never happened, let’s-

“You wanna know what I think you were doing?” 

Seungcheol’s voice had dropped an octave. The smile in his voice was gone and there was something menacing and commanding about him now. In the moment, overcome with a cocktail of guilt and shame, you could not discern if this was anger or lust - the first seemed fitting. 

“I think you were fucking your little fingers thinkin’ about me,” he hummed and in response you whined and squeezed your eyes shut. The shame encapsulated you. “Shh, shh, calm down, I’m not mad, honey.” 

Blinking through rapidly forming tears, you opened your eyes to stare, dumbfounded, at the radio (as if it were Seungcheol and you were not several miles apart). “Really?” 

“Not mad at all. Jus’ think you should’ve told me if you wanted my help,” he tutted on his end and, God, he was so nurturing and comforting and he knew it, and it was so sexy. Your pussy, which had vaguely throbbed from the negligence throughout, was now screaming for your attention, hole clenching sadly around nothing. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want-” 

“You’re crying again, baby,” he must’ve noted from the hoarseness of your voice and the sniffles that accompanied every syllable. 

“Just want you so bad,” you sobbed, now shamelessly slipping your hand back into your underwear and sighing dazedly in relief when you touched it again. 

“Need Seungcheol to take care of you, huh?” The smile in his voice was back. 

“Yeah.” 

“Bet you don’t want me talking about birds now, hm?” he chuckled (at his own joke), voice low and raspy. “Are you touching that pretty pussy?” 

“Mhmm,” you responded lazily, floating high on the sound of his voice and jolts of electricity they sent as you worked up a pace on your clit once more. The pain of the interruption ebbed away. 

“Good girl, hm?” He knew. “Getting off to the sound of my voice, eh? Don’t even know what I look like.” 

“Hng- k-know you’re b-buff,” you gritted out, voice coming in sharp breaths. Your body moved languidly, back arching off the bed and hair coming out in choppy strands on your pillow. Seungcheol scoffed out a laugh: “Like knowing I could just fold you in half? Fuck you into tomorrow? Hm?” 

You let out a loud, dumb whine of his name. It was a total inability to get over his words; how melodious it was, and yet, how contradictory the smoothness of his words were to the strained nature of his thrumming voice. And the worst of it all was how confident he was - you supposed hearing someone else masturbate to you would be a confidence boost - and how the arrogance swelled out in the most comforting, nurturing way. Each word felt like a hand on your body, like a caress that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Fuck, princess, say my name like that again. Please.” 

“Seungcheol!” you obliged mindlessly, legs shaking on either side of your glistening hand. 

“Shit, I-” he grunted, and you heard a fumbling of fabrics on his end. Your nerves spun in excitement at the thought of him getting hard at your voice. “Can you put two fingers in the pretty pussy - it’ll feel like one of mine, baby.” 

You cried out when your fingers entered yourself, pads of your fingertips rubbing against your walls. Outside of the windows, the park was an empty wasteland of mauve and orchid, and the Fermata lake was brilliantly alive and dipping under the three-quarter-moon. 

“Wish it was your pussy wrapped around my cock right now,” he grunted, and he’d lost breath and composure and if you knew what his face looked like, you would imagine it sweaty and twisted up and a red-lipped ‘o’ letting the jaw slack. 

Resuming your earlier motions (double-handing your own kitty), you felt your orgasm lurking in the pit of your stomach, a tight-wound knot being ripped apart. You were panting into the cool air, creating silver-clouds in your tower-home. “A-ah, want you inside me so bad, Cheol- shit! Gonna- gonna cum-” 

“Yeah? You gonna cum thinking about my cock inside you baby? Thinkin’ about me just bouncing you up and down like my little fuckdoll?” His speech ended in the prettiest moan you’d ever heard, and you imagined every well-defined, flexed muscle under the moonlight and the thought had your whole body jerking and shaking and when you closed your eyes the stars stayed with you, white and glimmering under your eyelid. 

The strangled moans of your orgasm sent Seungcheol over the edge - at least from what you could tell. His dirty talk turned into strings of curses and moans and grunts until the radio went dead, and all you could hear was your own labored breaths and the faraway hooting of a horned owl. 

The silence flatlined the excitement into nervousness. Your lip was almost automatically caught in your teeth and you glanced over the radio beside you through your lashes.

Oh shit. What the fuck had you done?

“Uh, did you-” the smell of sweat shot up as you shuffled in your sheet to grab the radio once more. “Did you, uh, cum?” 

Oh fuck. You just made it way worse.

The silence from the radio was much louder than any response, but when the receiver did finally crinkle with static, the sound of laughter exploded from it.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, BV,” you scolded, but you were smiling and relief flooded you like water overflows Fermata Lake during heavy downpour. 

“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped on the other end. “It’s just-.. ‘DID YOU CUM?’” 

“Alright, I’m going to bed now. You suck,” you quacked, and even though you were alone you thought to suppress the gentle tugging at your lips into a sharky smile. 

“DID YOU CUM?” 

He sounded pretty when he laughed.  _____________________________

“I can’t believe I have to hike down here to confiscate some fireworks.” 

Your grumble came from the forest beside Fermata Lake. You were walking down a patch of dirt revealed from years’ of trampling feet, dewy sprigs of grass arching into the mud. A group of (presumably) teenagers were firing fireworks down near the edge of your assigned territory. 

“They’re a fire hazard!” Seungcheol squawked obviously, and you huffed in your boots, preparing to climb down a rocky slope. 

“I know that! It’s just everywhere - the website, the signs - don’t use fireworks!” you complained. Seungcheol hummed absently on the other line: “Go teach those suckers a lesson, Fermata!” 

“I will,” you said, agitated. 

“Just don’t fuck with their personal belongings. Last thing we need is a lawsuit. Again.”

“I won’t,” you said, deflated. 

Even in your most angered moments, you could hand yourself over to the gentle forest. No longer were you protruding into a bubble, straining to get through a barrier that was urging you out, but you were absorbed into it, like you were one of its own. 

The forest was lush with pines and brown and green moss painting bark and rocks, and the grass leapt higher than your knees, as you trudged further and further in. 

SWOOOOSH!

A firework propelled into the sky about 100 meters away, and you watched its ignited trails of smoke before it exploded into a fest of sparkling blue and gold. You huffed out in anger at the sight. The sky wasn’t even fully dark - it was merely a muted blue evening. 

“Did you see that?” Seungcheol came from the radio-speaker. 

“Yeah, I’m right with them.” 

As you padded closer the smell of wet pine cones and coltsfoot accompanied the sound of distant voices - indeed, they sounded juvenile. You could make out at least two girls and at least one boy, although their voices were hard to distinguish, the way they echoed in between the grid of trees.

“Hey!” you yelled, as you creeped just close enough. Their voices hushed and you saw their frightened faces lit by handheld, Target-bought flashlights when you peeled back the screen of a bramblebush. They were gathered together amongst a tent, flashlight lighting the plates of the faces ablaze in cool white.

“Cut it out with the fireworks, alright?” you huffed and your anger melted a little when you saw that they were indeed just kids - maybe 19? They seemed to have nothing to say, and so you scanned the beer cans and the scattered backpacks and finally caught sight of a bundle of rockets in the grass. Your brows furrowed, and you picked it up with a sternness. 

“Hey, that’s ours!” one kid chimed, but he made no move to stop you, really, as you trudged angrily back to the bush you had come from. 

“Not as long as you’re in our park, man. It’s a fire hazard.” 

“We’ll take them back home-” 

“Goodnight!” The desperate plea fell on deaf, tired ears. You just wanted to eat dinner, so you disappeared out on a trail of pine needles and valiantly ignored the trail of curses and insults following you. You could care less. 

“I got the fireworks, Seungcheol,” you sighed tiredly and your eyes were dark pits and your face was relaxed, if only to conservative energy. 

“Good job, Fermata.” 

You were not in the talking mood. Maybe Seungcheol could tell by your tone of voice; maybe he could hear it in your sigh; but Seungcheol piped up again: “You know, if you need some energy for the hike back, there’s a supply box - uhh, 52? - if you head upwards instead of towards Fermata Lake.” 

You wanted to be grumpy, you really did, but the thought of a salivating, expired, delicious, out-of-date granola bar had you changing course to the slowly gaining hill of the forest. 

It was weird. This was probably the closest you’d ever been to Seungcheol’s tower. Under the prickly cover of pine some mile in the distance, you could see a glowing square, perched over the treetops by long, wooden pillars, support beams crossing the middle. You couldn’t help but wanna go up to it. There had been an unbearable magnetic pull to his tower ever since that night however long ago. You decided to stay the course for Supply Box 52. 

“I can practically see you from here,” you commented, and the tower was becoming a beacon as the evening mulled darker and darker by the minute. 

“Really? Hang on,” he did not let go of the radio-button, and so you had the pleasure of listening to the ruffling of fabrics and thumps on the floor. “Can you see me flexing in the window?” 

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, and the sound bounced off the pines and traveled up to the rock of the nearby Aluralura Mountain. “No, I’m not quite that close.” 

“Damn it!” 

“Yeah, it‘s a real shame,” you muttered, smiling, and then you caught sight of the supply box up ahead. The hill flattened out once more (to which you breathed a sigh of relief) and the box was perched on the edge facing the path that began onto the cliffs. This was Seungcheol’s territory - cliff sides and all. “I think I see Supply Box 52.”

“Open that bad boy up.” 

You entered the code, scrolling the mechanisms one by one until the numbers read 1-2-3-4 (you still thought this combination was ridiculous), and when you opened the lid it creaked horribly, worn from the weather. 

The wind was harsh that day, and a note, identical to the one you’d found at Eleison Valley, broke off its tape from the mean pushes of the wind. Instinctively, you grabbed it as it started to fly off, and your hand closed around it and crinkled it under your fingers. You looked at it with knitted brows. 

Wordlessly, you tucked it in between your side and your arm, redirecting your attention to the goodies in the supply box. 52 held a rope and a map and another directory for supply boxes and, to your exhausted delight, a box of grandma-looking caramels. You took the whole thing and stuffed it into your bag. 

As you shuffled, you put the note between your lips, stuffing the plastic container of gold-wrapped, sugary candies in between your rope and your own map and a coat for possible rain. When you zipped it up, the fabric of the bag warped grotesquely to fit the various items you’d brought. 

You pulled the note back out from your lips. A small wet patch of spit lingered on the paper, as you unfolded it. 

It read: 

‘Hey Seungcheol,

If you find this, I gotta go be with my mom now. I’ll miss you forever.

From Jun.’

The wind blew kisses on your back like the presence of a ghost.

“You find anything good?” Seungcheol’s voice peeked through the static of the radio. It had been quiet for a while. You couldn’t take your eyes off the letter. The ink was smudged and slurred. 

“Uh, caramels, actually,” you said, eyes dancing over each slope of ‘forever’. “Like, granny caramels.”

You put the letter away.  _____________________________

A week later and you were looking out of the window at pouring rain. The sky was smothered by a duvet of dark gray clouds, and the rain was coming harder than you’d ever seen. It was like thousands of bullets pelting into the ground and turning it soft and muddy, and the drops hit your roof like the nonstop click of a keyboard. 

"Rainy season, huh?” your mouth was to the radio. 

“Yeah. We’re gonna be staying up all night to watch out for lightning. Fire hazard.” 

“Shit, I should make coffee.” 

“I’m way ahead of you.” 

The lightning came and thunder followed. The sound was enormous and terrifying. It grumbled like a hungry beast and the sound bounced off of every mountain-wall and echoed from all sides. You felt very small, wrapped up in a blanket at your desk, a steaming cup of coffee by your side and your fire extinguisher evacuated from its holder to stand beside you, all red and shiny aluminum and rubber nozzle. 

“Did that look like it hit a tree?” you asked after seeing a zig-zagging bolt of lightning hanging a little too low over the crowns. Your voice was louder than usual - this night was a game of overpowering the screaming rain. It was some 1 AM.

“Uhhhhh, shit. Maybe. We’d see the fire, but it’s possible it’s at the root.” 

“Fuck,” you whispered. “Was that yours or my area?” 

“Uhhhhh-” 

“I’m gonna check it out.” 

Determined, you let the radio fall on the table, as you fumbled for another sweater. The knitted fabric slipped over your other sweater, and then you were wrapping yourself up in your raincoat.

“Maybe I should go - it’s slippery right now, it’s dangerous as fuck. You could fall and hit your head, you know. I think it was closer to me anyway, so--” 

“Seungcheol, I already have my coat on, I’m going!” 

And indeed you were going, despite the grumbled protests of Seungcheol. Your coat blew in the hurricane wind as you stood atop the cliff, looking down at the cascading water, that’d all race down to the sinkhole that was Fermata Lake. Through the clouds, there were no stars to trade glances with, not even ghosts.

You fought headwind the entire way, your hair flowing wildly and your coat threatening to unbutton at the will of the blasts. The ground under your rainboots had become mud and the further you trudged into the forest, the more the mud crept up your yellow shoe, slinging over you like liquid ropes. 

“I’m going down the drop off again!” you were screaming to overpower the wind, radio to your mouth before you dropped it into your pocket and retrieved your bag to regather your rope. 

“Be careful!” Seungcheol commandeered bitterly, muffled from your pocket. “It’s slippery as shit! Radio me immediately when you’re down, so I know you’re okay.” 

Even as your face grew wet and sore from the whipping rain, you scoffed. A gloved hand shoved into your pocket, brought the radio back up to your red lips: “Stop being such a pussy!” 

“Say yes, Y/n!” 

You rolled your eyes. “Aye, aye.”

“... I’ll take that, asshole.” 

Wet as a wipe, you slung your rope over the hook and prepared it in a slew of motions you’d by now memorized. Although, you noted your movements were awkward, somewhat impaired by the layers of fabric that encased you. Stubborn, you stood before the hook, grabbed onto the rope, and began walking backwards. 

Your booted foot curled around the edge of the cliffside, and with the tightened rope you began your careful horizontal walk. Raindrops pelted your face like a clenched fist, but you only blinked away the water and tried to focus on stepping carefully down the side of the rockface. 

KRRRRRRRRKKKKKK!

You screamed girlishly when your rope snapped from the hook, and you watched it come flying out over the ledge, before you realized, horrifically, you were already falling. 

It was barely a second, just one blurry image of the weeping sky, before you were on the ground, groaning in pain. A pulsing ache creeped up your spine, and you twisted your body in the mud to put the weight on your side. You sighed into the mud, dirt on your squished cheek. 

The rain was uncaring of your unfortunate situation, as you laid pathetically in the dirt, body scrunching up like an elastic, while your shadow was cast by sudden bursts of lightning. Panting, you pushed yourself up by your arms and felt blindly for your-

Where was your radio? 

Your pocket was deflated and empty, and you scrambled in the dirt, desperately, pushing yourself up completely to scan the area. You noted how the pain subsided into a small, dwindling soreness, thanking whatever God for your layers of clothing and the softness of the earth. 

There. A flash of yellow in your blurred vision, aided by another strike of lightning atop Aluralura Mountain. You picked up the worn, dirty radio in your heavy hand, pressing at its side. 

“Hello? Seungcheol?” 

There was no static to indicate your message had been relayed, and the usual red digital numbers telling you what channel you were on was gone, a simple, black screen remaining, mirroring your muddied face, twisted in anguish. 

“Fuck this,” you hissed, standing up on two legs. You looked back up to where your lookout tower was still ablaze, a yellow box in the heights. The rope was fucked. You had to go down anyway. Huffing, you started walking. 

You marched through the undergrowth, crossing through unpathed forest to reach the destination. It was near a hollow marked on your map, and so the expedition, although scarier, more empty and dark without Seungcheol's warm voice, was mild. 

Wet petals brushed your face from rows of bushes, and even through your gloves the cold left your fingertips numb. You sniffled in the dark. 

You found the hollow, then you found the tree. There was, indeed, ash going up the side of it, seemingly stemming from a smaller bush in the clearing, but the fire had been long put out by the insistent rain, and partially you felt disappointment that you’d trekked all the way out here, only for there to be no real danger. 

Heavier than ever, you turned your gaze to the glowing hut in the distance. 

You almost wanted to go back to your own hut, to turn your back to Seungcheol’s glowing tower and forget this ever happened. The anticipation of seeing him - of him seeing you - was a tall wall to overcome. But, you realized, not only was his tower closer; you also needed help. 

Your radio was fucked, your rope was fucked and moreover, you needed to be sure you hadn’t done irreparable damage to your back. With water dripping over the ledge of your hood, you began walking towards Seungcheol. 

Rainwater cascaded off the edge of the trees and the consistent dashed dots looked like tiny glass orbs in the light of Bay Valley Tower. It was intensely quiet for a while - it seemed like every bush-tailed critter of the forest had scuttered away to hide from the rain and the echoing growling of the sky. 

“Y/n!” 

You were so tired you almost could’ve missed it. Each layer of fabric weighed you down and the dirt smearing your cheeks and hands and fabrics could’ve melted you right into the earth. But indeed, a voice - so familiar it almost hurt - was calling to you in the dead of night.

“Seungcheol?” your first call was not a call, but a whisper, as you peered into the thick grooves of the forest. Then, your senses returned to you and you screamed as loud as you could: “Seungcheol!” 

“Y/n!”

You and Seungcheol called for each other, syllables echoing off the huge, towering presence Aluralura Mountain. Getting closer and then closer, and then you could see the figure of another raincoated person, shaded by a hood.

“Y/n? Oh, thank God!” He ran to you, swimming in the rubber of his red coat and pink lips peeking over the closed hood. 

It was a little paralyzing. He was so beautiful, you didn’t even know which speck of his shadowed face to look at. Tan, wet skin and big eyes from which the longest, blackest lashes you’d ever seen sprung. Most notable were his fuzzy, blocky eyebrows sitting over his brown eyes, fine wrinkles springing from the corners (you’d like to think you’d helped create some of those). His lips were big and bright and pouty, but it was wiped away when he smiled at the sight of you, and you could die, because a dimple indented itself in his cheek at the motion. 

“Are you okay?” his smile faded when you said nothing, only stared at him, and then stared at where his thick fingers wrapped around your arm. He leaned into you and God, you hadn’t seen him before this very moment, and now he was leaning over you and he was so close and he smelled like pinewood, and you were pretty sure you smelt exactly the same. 

You lowered yourself from your daze, trying to follow the pattering of rain atop both of your hoods. “Uh,” you gulped, finding his eyes, “yeah, I jus’... I thought you were joking when you said you weren’t white.” 

His laugh. His laugh was even prettier in person and it had the same rasp and the same disapproving hint to it that it had had at all your other jokes. “You’re unbelievable, you know that, Fermata?” 

“Bird watching is crazy, man.” 

He smiled and studied your face for a moment, still leaned over you and thoroughly ignoring the rain and the thunder and the dirt on your boots. Then the smile faded, just a little: “What happened to your radio?” 

“Oh- oh my God! Do you- do you remember my first day? The drop off! I fuckin’- fell down, my rope came undone on the hook! My radio was knocked the fuck out, it was crazy, I’m gonna need a new one-”

“Are you okay? You fell?” Seungcheol’s strong eyebrows became furrowed and the sight was so utterly mesmerizing to you. You waved him off: “I’ll be fine, please, I just want to get out of this weather.” 

Seungcheol did not seem to entirely believe you, but nonetheless he grabbed your hand - in his own rough, used one - and started leading you upwards (“If I don’t hold your hand, how can I be sure you don’t fall down another drop off?”).

Time was not as agonizingly slow by his size, and the tower seemed to propel towards you and the hands on your wristwatch seemed to move backwards. Not before long, you were climbing up the stairway with Seungcheol’s iron fist on your wrist, so as to prevent you from falling down something else (you had a feeling that he would not let this go). 

“I’m gonna make us some tea,” grumbled Seungcheol when you arrived.

“Yes, please,” you murmured. Your coat was folded beside you, starry raindrops soaking into a blanket thrown over his bed. 

It was warm in Seungcheol’s tower house - he had half a brain to put an electric heater in the corner of the room, unlike you - and it was only the sudden embrace of warmth that had you looking out into the park and realizing you would have frozen to death if you’d stayed. 

There was a warm glow from a naked bulb in the ceiling (you guessed Seungcheol had put it up himself), an old rug full of sand-corns, and a shelf with various books. Seungcheol also had a small kitchen, a desk and a bed, just like you. The layout was exactly the same, but sitting down on Seungcheol’s bed, you noted he must’ve made some alterations. Your fingers pulled at the white of the mattress - it was his own and it was much softer.  

When the electric kettle (a rusted, iron old thing) was cooking, Seungcheol turned to you sheepishly and unzipped his coat. You waited in secret anticipation for his supposedly smoking-hot bod, but were disappointed to see another sweater underneath it. 

Seungcheol stopped the kettle and took two large mugs from his cupboard. These, he placed on a carved tray (you thought he might have made it himself from pinewood), and then from a small, wooden tea box on his countertop, he produced two bright yellow tea packets, which he gently placed in the mugs. Then he poured in the water, steam traveling up to open his pores and whatnot. 

“Do you want anything in yours?” he asked, not really looking. 

“Uhm. No, no, thank you,” your hands were folded in your lap. 

He only grunted in response and left one tea untouched, then took a clear, plastic container of honey from an array of unrefrigerated condiments, and squirted half the bottle into his tea. He sniffled when he was done, grabbing the tray and turning to you. Tonight, Seungcheol was uncharacteristically nervous.

“Can you-?”

“Hm?”

“That little- little table over there-”

“What?”

“Can you grab it?- For- for the tray?” 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

The tea sat on the tray and the tray sat on the foldable table and you and Seungcheol sat before them on the edge of his bed. You took the hefty mug in your hand and took a slurp, looking over at him from the rim. Seungcheol looked at you awkwardly. He did not move for his tea. 

“I should take a look at your back,” he said. 

“What? Why?” you quacked disapprovingly. “You fell on it,” Seungcheol reminded you.

You shook your head silently. “I like your hut. It’s way better than mine.” 

“I’ve been here longer,” Seungcheol shrugged. You looked at him and he seemed displeased - this would not have been a big deal were you speaking to him on the radio, but his aura was much more commanding in person - something about his eyes, you thought. You had to look away, settling on your mug again (there was a cartoon dog on it). 

“I suppose that’s true,” you murmured. Seungcheol stared into the side of your face and his obvious concern for you weighed down at your muscles. 

A gentle pause where rain pattered his roof. 

“Are you okay?” 

You glanced over, nervously: “Tired.” 

He bit his lip: “Maybe I should’ve made coffee... Can we put instant coffee in tea?” 

“Seungcheol, I wanted to ask you something,” you said and put your mug down on the tray again with a small ‘clink’. Seungcheol rubbed his hands over his trouser-clad thighs, nodding, maybe more nervous than you. The warm glow of the bulb made him even prettier and all was warm and dry in the hut, even though rain was falling down in thick curtains just outside by the troughs. “It’s just..” you began, “you’ve been so avoidant about this.. Jun guy..”

Seungcheol’s sigh interrupted you before you could finish: “He was just the guy that worked here before you.” 

“I found another letter.”

Seungcheol’s furrowed expression softened and he looked at you with big, glassy brown eyes, hidden under a waft of choppy bangs. What was that in the shine of his pupil? Fear? Vulnerability? Sadness?

“It was about- it said he was gonna go be with his mother and that- that he would miss you,” you explained and your voice was snotty and throaty, and your eyes averted to a folded napkin beside a half-eaten slice of bread. A fly circulated it hungrily. 

Seungcheol’s lips made a tight line, dimples poking out pathetically. He cleared his throat and you heard the strain in his vocal chords once more (and it was so real because there he was - right beside you). 

“Me and Junhui came here together. We’d just finished college and we didn’t want-.. We didn’t want to be adults yet. Like, an office job, wife and kids,” he began and there was a tremor about Seungcheol tonight. “I don’t think he was made for a job like this though. I think the loneliness got to him.. Think he just lived with it ‘cause he could tell I liked it.” 

You nodded along until he wasn’t speaking anymore. Then a thick silence absorbed the two of you, a patch of moss drowned in the downpour. 

“His mom was dead, so..” he whispered. Tears gathered at his waterline like a string of stars. “So, yeah, he went to.. To be with her.” 

“I’m so sorry, Seungcheol,” you whispered and the echoing whispers of the storm bouncing off the rock faces of Aluralura mountain beckoned your hand onto his woolen sleeve. “I had no idea.” 

“They never found his body, you know? He’s just out there, somewhere,” both you and Seungcheol turned your heads out to the pitch black expanse of the massive park. Your mind wandered to every crook and crevice you’d seen out there, wondering if a dead body had hidden behind a quarry rock. “Fuckin’ terrified I’ll find him one day. Just… Rotten.” 

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say? Even though you’d stood in a similar situation - losing a friend - you couldn’t find anything that could ease his pain, the pain that was now tinting the light blue and dulling the sound of the rain. The whole room was pulsating. Luckily, it seemed Seungcheol had something more to say. You watched his lips pucker as the words tried to leave his tongue, then watched them draw back. 

“He used to.. He used to say this thing. It reminded me so much of what you- you said that night about, uhm, your friend’s friend. He used to say that- that sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and he’d just be.. Totally.. Convinced that he was at the bottom of Fermata Lake and he was drowning,” Seungcheol’s voice broke one too many times and his jaw clenched. “God, I was so worried. Jus’ thought I couldn’t- I couldn’t be the reason that happened again.” 

“I…” A tear slipped down your face and your hand left Seungcheol’s arm to wipe it, furiously.He turned to you pitifully, the broad width of his shoulders hanging low. “I’m sorry- you weren’t meant to feel that way-”

“It’s okay. I wanted to help,” Seungcheol grabbed your hands in his, a deep frown on his lips. 

You stopped the tears, face burning hot and wet when you looked up at him again, calmed. His thumbs stroked over the backs of your hands. The pads were rough and beaten. 

“Y’know it was sort of the same for me,” you said. Seungcheol waited for you to talk patiently and with a small, encouraging smile, as warmth streamed from his hands into yours.

“Yeah, my- uh roommate - best friend - died. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how I found him, like, his hand was just outstretched towards- towards the wall to my room, and he must’ve just lied there while his heart was giving out and I wasn’t there-... And I found him the next morning like that and I thought he was asleep and I left him there. Again. And I just can’t stop seeing him everywhere and for a while I was afraid that he would move, you know, like, start crawling towards me or some shit, but I think now I’m actually more afraid that he’ll never move. I think that’s the joke or whatever, he just won’t move, he’ll just be there the way I left him- and I guess- I guess, I thought I could find some sort of higher purpose out here, but I just can’t.. I feel more as though.. Like, it was these things that took him away from me, these fundamental parts of- existence. Like all the cliffs have evil faces and they want to take me too, and maybe I did want them to take me, but not- not anymore. I don’t know if that makes any sense?” 

You peered up at Seungcheol through your lashes, wet and heavy. He was frowning, hands gripping yours tighter.

“You don’t want them to take you anymore?” he asked quietly. You shook your head. “How so?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it has much to do with me or the park. I think-” you gaze flitted to Seungcheol and he smiled knowingly. You scoffed and smiled too. 

Although you both were fully clothed (Seungcheol annoyingly so), it felt as if all the layers had been stripped away one by one; sweaters and trousers, skin and meat and bones. All there was left were two brightly glowing hearts in front of one another. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered then. “You don’t have to say it.”

You rolled your eyes: “I think it’s because of you.” 

He grinned, wrinkles crinkling the corners of his eyes and cheeks bunching up in shiny, red fat. You poorly suppressed your own grin and the two of you leaned into each other when your eyes hooked, laughing into each other's shoulders.

“You’re so dumb,” you complained, forehead scratching against the stiff, knitted threads in Seungcheol’s shirt. 

“I think- I think we both jus’ get dumber together,” you could feel his smile into your neck and the hot stream of air that bounced against the skin. 

Right as you were about to pull away, Seungcheol’s arms wrapped around your back and pushed you back into him. You giggled at the motion, but with little thought your own arms wrapped around his back too, and your knees clashed where they met. 

“Seungcheol?” your voice was muffled by his neck. His only response was hum, that ruminated from deep in his throat right by your ear. You pulled away until you were staring at his face. 

Each thick stroke of eyebrow hair, each long, black eyelash and each mole dotted on his softly aging skin was crystal clear then. Your hands wrapped around his biceps and felt your heart buzz at their pronounced carvings under the wool. Seungcheol smiled down at you in a sort of adoring way.

“I think-” you began, then felt stupid, then felt idiotic and cowardly. “I don’t know- I think we should kiss now?” 

It came out as more of a question than a statement. 

Seungcheol gravelled a laugh and his eyes became all squinty and he pursed his lips as if it concealed his amusement in any way at how you squirmed beneath him and your face heated up. 

“I think you’re right,” he nodded and you could barely register the feeling of joy that exploded in your chest, before Seungcheol’s pillowy lips crashed into yours at the same instance as a crack of thunder. 

The lightning was a flickering show to the performance of yours and Seungcheol’s passionate kiss. His lips molded to yours and yours to his, warm and chapped and your hands couldn’t help but wrap around the soft planes of his cheeks - to pull him further, to keep him with you. 

Seungcheol grappled for your hips, and you moaned in a sort of discombobulated agreement, as he, with shocking ease, pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body, stroking and pressing into the meat, left a burning ghostly trail behind it. 

“Can I be honest?” you mumbled in between bitten kisses and panted breaths. “You’re hotter than I imagined.” 

Seungcheol smiled into the kiss at that: “You too, baby. Now you get the real thing, hm? After fucking your sweet pussy thinking about me?” 

You whined in response, hips canting down into his and head dropping into the warm crook of his neck. You licked mindlessly at the skin, rolling your hips into his. Seungcheol groaned and steel hands halted your eager core. 

“Desperate so quick?” he quirked, and you cried out because how could even begin to describe how hot it was that he could entirely still your movements so nonchalantly? You swallowed before you tilted your head from the safety of his neck. 

“I have waited so fucking long for your cock, Cheol. I need it inside me now,” you said seriously, and it was his turn to swallow the rising viscous in his throat, before he nodded and pushed you off his lap to remove his trousers. 

You saw the way the metal of the belt reflected the light, as he (almost angrily) began journeying it off his middle, and you took the hint, beginning to discard your clothes. Your first sweater fell to the floor, then the next followed, and then you were stomping the floor to rid your soaked trousers. Another article of clothing that was soaked - your panties! And embarrassingly so, you thought, watching the slick, wet patch as you lowered the material to the floor. 

Only then did your attention return to Seungcheol, now fully naked in his hut with windows on all sides, and you audibly gasped. 

His torso was one huge slab of muscle and meat. The skin was relatively pale, pronounced pecs and his arms were like tree trunks at his sides. His thighs were fucking huge, indentations of muscles peering through his skin, as he impatiently worked his boxers off. 

He halted though at your gasp, smirking cockily before returning to his work.

“Is it as good as you imagined when you came thinkin’ ‘bout me?” he muttered as his boxers slid down his calf. Too busy staring at his girthy, leaking cock sprouting between his legs, you neglected to answer and Seungcheol continued in a deliberately raspy tone: “Jus’ thinking about your pretty moans, my cock’s aching for you, princess. You’re not gonna come warm it up, beautiful?” 

“Yes-” you stumbled over a treacherous boot, “yes, I am!” 

“Good girl,” Seungcheol rumbled, bemused, as your knees floundered into the mattress and back into his lap. Seungcheol seemed to have other plans, however, because as soon as you had found your footing, and his warm hands were sliding up your back and his neck was craned up to you, breath hitting your breasts, he raised you and flipped you over, so you were digging into the mattress and he was above you. The shadows only served to define the chisel of his arms further. 

His hand slid down your soft thighs, settling in between your legs to run two fingers through your folds. 

“Your pussy is so pretty,” he whispered, somewhat mesmerized at the slick coating his fingertips. You squirmed impatiently and he shushed you, ever so gently: “Shh, baby, I’ll take care of you.” 

Immediately following up on his promise, the two fingers snaked down to your sensitive, pulsing hole, prodding gently. You wiggled and whined, one of your hands (which had been gripping his bedsheets) stopped him at the wrist. He stopped, eyes flitting up to your flushed, shiny face questioningly. 

“I wan’ your cock now. No prep,” you scowled, strands of hair sticking out messily. Seungcheol frowned. 

“I need to-” 

“I’m wet enough, please, been thinkin’ ‘bout this since-..” you cut yourself off with a frustrated sigh, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile at how fucked out you were already, so precious, all beautiful and naked and womanly. 

“You sure?” he asked, voice matching the depth of the thunder. You nodded eagerly: “Please, please-” 

“Okay,” he murmured, sticky hand leaving your burning pussy in favor of pressing it against the underside of your thigh. At the command of his strong hands, your body folded in half and the realization of your position had you crying out pathetically. “Anything for my beautiful baby.” 

My. His. The word choice had you clenching around nothing, all spread out for him while he lined his pretty, red cock up with your entrance. 

“Gonna feel real full in a minute, yeah?” he said absently, watching intently at how your pretty pussy was splayed out and ready and aching for him, mind reeling at the sight of you and the smell of you and how you felt under his hands. 

And suddenly it was there - a mountain of pressure building around the head of his cock as it pushed inside, bursting when he pushed in a little further, until he was fully nestled inside. Seungcheol was not unaffected, body curling over yours animalistically with a deep, throaty groan. You, too, had to squirm and moan wantonly, as your body shone under the bulb. 

“You’re so tight, pretty,” Seungcheol managed, face scrunched up, as his pelvis met your pubic bone. His hands gripped your shaking legs once more, fully folding you in half and you cried as the movement invited him further inside, feeling him brush the spongy spot inside you. 

“Feel s’good!” you moaned, even as he hadn’t moved yet, and Seungcheol’s hands squeezed you in response. 

Experimentally (perhaps fearful, as you had rushed into it without preparation), Seungcheol thrust shallowly and was pleased at your broken cry, so he did it again and then again, and then he was building up a rhythm and your sultry moans were slipping through the cracks of the hut and bouncing off the walls of Aluralura mountain and echoing twenty times over. 

There was nothing sweet about the pace of Seungcheol’s hips. He was pistoning in and out with an impressive agility, huffing over your folded body. It was desperation; the way your nails raked over his back and his sloping arms, and sweet, little whimpers and your pussy choking his cock. 

“Sweetest, prettiest-” he squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, stomach caving inwards and clenching. “Fuck, cutest, little princess being stuffed full of my cock.”

“Love your cock,” you babbled, “Love- love your cock, love you.” 

The words slipped out as if they were nothing, but their meaning was solidified by your raking hand sneaking up to his neck and pulling him down into another sloppy kiss. Tongues melding and spit trickling down your chin as he hummed into your mouth in the most wonderful way. 

“Love you, too. Pretty, funny, sweet girl-” 

“A-ah, ‘m gonna cum soon,” you warned, voice nothing but a breath, and your face pleasured, scrunched up in the dead of night. Your stomach was a well of pressure.

“I know, baby, I know. Squeezing me so tight,” he soothed, hands running up and down the plush underside of your thighs, as his hips continued their unrelenting pace. “Come on, cum on my cock.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Seungcheol-” a string of curses and his name followed as your pussy clenched one last hard time and your cum seeped out around his thick, veiny length.

Holding his own orgasm at bay, he clenched his jaw and gritted out: “Where d’you want my cum?” 

“Inside!” you mewled, overstimulated and sore, and legs still pressed to your chest, clammy and slick. 

Seungcheol would’ve made a snarky remark was he not already cumming at your words, white seed painting your insides and spilling out around his softening length. He thrust a couple more times, relishing in the sounds of your fucked-out moans before he’d emptied himself, and he dropped down beside you. 

Due to the nature of a one-person bed, you and Seungcheol were both pressed close to one another, covered in sweat. Your panting, huffing breaths synchronized and you stared into each other's eyes, all wild and blushed. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, brought back to reality by a distant calling owl. You were still in the park, you realized - not some other pleasure dimension like one may have thought. Seungcheol smiled giddily.

You looked out into the wasteland, and your eyelids and limbs (draping over Seungcheol’s big, pretty body) were suddenly heavy. You yawned.

“D’you think we have to stay up anymore?”

Seungcheol watched you gauging the pinelands with starry eyes. “You can go to bed,” he offered gently, “I’ll stay up and make sure the storm’s over.” 

“Are you sure?” you mumbled, but you were already settling into the domes of his chest, closing your eyes. Seungcheol looked at you and thought you were adorable. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can you stay here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Can your dick stay inside me?” 

This prompted a laughter blooming all the way from his chest, where your cheek bunched up against the skin. His arm was wrapped around your back. 

“Sure, baby.” 

You mumbled something like ‘okay’ or ‘good’ or ‘thank you’, and you drifted off into sleep with his arms around you, and when Seungcheol was certain the storm had passed, he nuzzled his head into your hair and dozed off himself. 

At the swimming red sky of dawn, your eyes pried open to see Seungcheol already awake, still wrapped around you. 

Nonchalantly (that is to say: as if your chest was not bursting with glee), you nodded your head over to the window behind him:

“Is that not a black-billed cuckoo?!” 

And Seungcheol thought that maybe you and him could find birds together elsewhere too. 

[phoniexrose02]

Robby Keene x Black! Reader

You awoke with a Painful ache in your Back, This Week had Really Been Beating your Ass. Both of your Jobs Decided to Work you to the Nail, Unfortunately Missing your Boyfriend's Karate Tournament. Robby Understood of course, But you'd Felt like such an Ass and When you found out about the Outcome you'd Felt even More Responsible. Everything Just Seemed to Be working against you Right now.

"Next Off Day Robby I Swear..."

You Held your phone Close to your Ear an Huffed a Tired Breathe"You know I want too~" stared around the empty Breakroom, Robby Sat awake in New bed. He'd Felt a Bit Odd in his New Room an Decided to Spark the Room up a bit, a lit preroll in between his fingers. Getting high asf after all the recent shit he'd been threw was Great But as great as it way all he could think about right now was You.

"Mm~ you Owe me like 24hr Worth of Cuddles already Sweetheart" He Grumbled out staring up into his Ceiling."I might be able to Get the Weekend~" You smiled to yourself, it finally felt Forever since you'd seen Him and now that he Lived closer you could get to him a lot cheaper." We can Cuddle all we Want, Maybe ruin that New Bed of yours~" you Whispered, Robby Could Feel the Ideas coming to his Mind. His Dick Getting excited to the thought, you Groaned Looking Toward the Clock.

Back to it I guess....

"My 30 mins is almost up, I'll see you This weekend Baby"

As the Called Ended Robby Stared around his Room, Looked a bit Bland...Soo he Decides to make it Fun For both of you. He Spend a Good Chunk of his Weekly allowance to Deck out his Room, Posters, New Pillows, Candles, an a few pedals and Flowers. He let himself Browse around the mall for anything else that Would lighten your Mood, Robby smiled after a bit of Walking around Laying his Eyes on the Perfect Gift.

As Friday Came you routinely Called Him up after your shift as you Waited for your Lyft."Hope you weren't Working to Hard gorgeous" you smiled Bright as you usually did when he Answered your Call."Mm'Trying" you spoke quietly."I Called a Ride I should be Over in a bit"

"Cancel it."

"Wha- Why??"

He hung up Leaving You a Bit confused an Huffed before putting him on you speaker you Cancelled your Ride, Before you could fully register his request you were pulled away with a Loud honk." Need a Lift Gorgeous" your eyes Fell on the EagleFang Van."No Way he let you Drive it!" You yelled happily prancing to the Passengers Seat, as you were about to hop in You Noting the Beautiful flower bouquets."Oh Robby, how Gentleman Like~" you Hop in Setting your Bag onto the Ground an the Flowers in your lap.

"Only the Best for my Girl~" You Both Lean in for a Longing Kiss, He let his ringed Fingers Gently Rest on your Face, the Cool Metal Meeting your Warm Cheeks." I Missed you~" he Quietly Hummed out as he pulled away from you." I missed you Too, I'm so Sorry I couldn't get to you Sooner"

"Don't worry bout it baby, We'll make it all Up tonight~"

You Placed your Hand on his Thigh Most of the Drive, it Seemed like so much to talk about But Silence Quickly Over took."Soo, how are things? Living with your Dad I Mean.." he Huffed as if to think very Carefully about the Subject."Better. I'm actually gonna be a Big Brother" You Eyes instantly Widened in Shock."Holy Fuck I didn't think he had it in him! So how do you Feel? Have you Met her yet?" He Nodded letting out a Relieved Sigh." She's cool, I'm kinda Proud of him, it's still a little weird tho. But we're working through it.." he finally Said with a Confident Smile, You let your hand rest on his shoulder an Gently Grazed at his Neck.

The small gesture Brought him Comfort, as he Pulled into the Driveway and Parked the Car He finally Looked over to you, Your Curvy Body Shoved into the Uncomfortable Work uniform."Is He Home?" You asked Softly Taking in your Surroundings, an Robby Examined your Beautiful Lips as you Speak." nah, He promised to go stay with her tonight." You smiled and He Gave a Bright one back, you Both Grabbed your things before Heading Inside.

"I love you, you know that?" he Blurted out Randomly in the Hallway as he Stopped at his Door, a Smirk stretched against your chubby Cheeks."I know Robby~" you planted a kiss to his Cheek, an you two Proceeded to open his door.

Smoke n' Fuck?~

You giggled at as the Read the petals aligned on his Bed. You examined his Room an Smiled, you loved just Being in his Safe Space it Brought you comfort." It's amazing Baby, and of Course I'll Smoke N' Fuck with you~" You pull off your uncomfony work shoes and place them next to the door with your Bag."You want some of my clothes?" You placed the Flowers at his Desk an began to Strip from your Tight Clothes as Time Robby started to Rummage through his Draws.

"Sure. You got Sum Rolled for me?~" you Wrapped your arms around his Waist letting your tits Press Heavily onto his Back." Of Course, I also got another Present for ya".

He Dug into the Bottom of his Draws handed the you a gifted wrapped bag,You Gush as you pulled out a Box Reading 'Magic Wand' with a Smirk."You didn't~" it'd felt like forever since you two had Been intimate, you Pulled the Toy From the Box Before turning it on. The strong vibrations in your fingers Send a Tinkle Down your Spine. You play with the Settings of the Toy Smirking at the highest. "Wanna Test it Out?~"

You Nodded an he helped you Undress the rest of you clothing, you Plopped down onto the bed some petals Falling to the Floor in Result. You watched from his Bed as a Pulled off his Top an Slipped a Prerolled into his Mouth, you bite your lip as Taking in his Beautiful physique."I know we said 'Fuck Cobra Kai' , But Damn Did they get you Ripped~" he quickly discarding of his pants with a Chuckled. Only left in his Boxers he Crawled in between your legs Spreading them to his Liking, your glistening Cunt in perfect view. You hand him the Wand and he Switches it out for the J.

"Fuck Cobra Kai, this was all Me Baby~" he turned it onto its first setting as you took a long Drag. He let out a quiet groan at the strong vibrations, something about it making him Dick Twitch."You ready Beautiful?~" You Nodded Resting On your Elbows, Robby Made sure to place the ashtray onto his Bed as soon as he Lit it so you two would have no Reason to Split apart again.

He placed the Toy Against your gush Cunt, the Strong Vibration Made Jerk. He Held your Side with one hand keeping you steady."Easy Baby, Relax~" Robby slowly moved the Soft Bud Up to your Clit, an you Took another Huff with a Quiet Hum. You Wiggled your hips against the Vibrating toy." Your Leaking all over this thing baby, I take it you like?~" you Nodded in approval taking another hit before Gently Shoving the Toy away.

"It's a really stimulating, But you Promised me a Good Fuck~" you Two Switched out once again and you turned on the wand settings up. "You sure you can Handle that? Seem a Little jumpy with this thing alone." Robby asked as he Hit the Joint as you played with yourself in Bliss."Jumpy's Good, an you usually have the strength to keep me Down~" your Toes Curled as you Found your Sweet Spots with the Toy."Hey! Your Not Cumming without me~"

Robby Placed the Roach onto the Ashtray before Pulling his Hard Dick From his Boxers. He Ran his Hard Cock threw your Leaking Folds He Let out a Gentle Grunt as he Made Contact with the Toy, you Gently place your hands against his Guiding the Toy to your Sweet Spots."Fuck~ your Gushing~" He Held your hips n Place before Shoving his Tip in your Hole, he Sunk inside Your soaking Cunt.

Robby's hips Shook as his Pelvis met with the Buzzing Plaything, He Hummed as his Hips Quickly Jerked into you. His Rough Thrust Making Dawning you Speechless, you Fell Back into the Pillows as Robby Fucked you into the Mattress.

Fuck New Favorite~

"More! More!~" you Chanted To him as you Reached For his Abs, he Growled an Tensed Ramming down Deep, Your hips Jump as Robby placed the Toy onto its highest Setting He let out a Deep Moan Feeling the Vibration himself,Your Walls Clung on tight forcing him to Speed up his Thrust.

" Oh God! Oh God! I'm Cumming Robby! I'm Cumming!~" You Gripped at the Sheets and your Toes Curl, he pulled the Wand from your Cunt as you Spilled you Juices onto him, Robby Pulled himself out and with a Few Strokes he Cums over your stomach and Clit."Fuck, I think this might be my New Favorite~" He Pulled himself from the Bed and put away the Wand. "We'll play with her More Later" You were left pretty Boneless as he Cleaned you up, your high brain Going Bland for a sec.

"Fuck...I got Munchies now" You shameful Whispered an he Giggled Fixing the Sweat Strands of Hair and pulling on a Pair of Sweatpants." Let me take you out..?"

"No Way, You still owe me my Cuddles" he Slide back into Bed Pulling you Close to his Chest, he was Warm against your back and his hands Gripped your Naked Waist Tight."How about DoorDash an a movie?" He Grunted at the thought of spending anything on him at all." If we Smoke before It'll Taste Better..."

"Fine, But I refuse to let you leave my Bed Pretty Girl~"

More Cobra Kai 🐍

[anne-the-witch-ish]

Where to find witchcraft materials in Brazil

(without being SCAMED)

When i started learning about witchcraft, one of the first problems i run into was acess to materials. I knew their names, what they should look like, but had no clue where to go to buy. The first time i entered a Esoteric store i was blown away for two reasons:one, everything was beautifull; two, everything was expansive.

Online, most the resources i find are in english and for EUA and Europe. So I've decided to make this post listing some palces in brazil, where we brazilian witches can find tools and materials for our craft.

*All images are from google as an exemple of how these places might look like, but their apparece can change from state-to-state.

Casas de religião (Religious houses)

These places sell iteams used in Quimbanda and Ubanda practices, but not only that. You see: candles, incense and herbs can also be found there. As well as incense holders, statues and more. Of course we aren't going to pick up things from closed practices, we know that much! But we there is a lot in the casas de religião that we can use.

Mercadão

The mercadão usually exists in big cities (like são paulo e porto alegre), and i love it. Is where i bought most of my stuff, like candles, herbs, and the pilão(an wood tool used to smash and grind herbs). The nice thing in the Mercadão is that there are multiple stores within it, like a mall but cheaper. So inside we can find a couple casas de religião, general nature stores, etc. If you are also looking for fruits, vegetables and fresh fish, this is your spot!

Feira (fair)

The feira usually happens once a week, in a set spot, and they sell local grown fruits and vegetables. Besides selling the best pastel you will ever eat, you might just be lucky enough to find some herbs that you can use in your craft.

But there are also the "fairas para turistas", which are a bit more tricky. In there you can find a bunch of different things: antique items, old books, and crystals. The thing is that because these places are more for tourists, they tend to be more expensive.

Loja de tudo 10 ("Everything is 10 bucks" store, would be our dolla tree or equivalent)

Once called loja de 1,99, these stores ware the og shain and amazon for brazilians. We know the stuff there is bad quality, but it is soo cheap too! In there you gotta focus on finding tools (scissors, knifes, plates), offering bowls, and incense! All my incense are from these stores, they have some very unique smells, but i like it.

O Supermercado (The supermarket)

If it all fails, go to your local supermarket in brazil. It will sell some white candels and comun herbs too. We have the small local markets, and also the big supermarket chains. Usually, the local small supermarkets sell the same thing from the big chains, but cheaper.

EXTRAS:

Sebos

Do you want to find some witchcraft books, but don't want to give money to bezos? Then try the Sebos, second hand bookstores that might have what you want. The thing is that they are much like gambling, so it depends a lot on luck. However, even if you don't find what you are lookign for, i bet you will find some other cool book to take home with you

Floriculturas

The flower shops sell, well flowers (and valantine's day gifts,too), but not only. Its there where you will find some herbs to plant in your garden, if you want to keep one! You can also find the alive herb to buy in the casas de religião e nos mercadões.

[deathbirby]

What sucks about the fandom is that everybody usually defaults to make post-Crimson Flower fanfictions 'and they all lived happily ever after :)' which... sucks because CF is the most flawed ending out of all of the routes (Duscur is still believed to have killed the King, TWSITD are lurking around as seen in Edel's mural, sovereign nations were forcibly assimilated against their will into Adrestia, etc). All of these issues are ignored to default to a happy ending which is such a let down since all of these issues are SO interesting and genuinely could make really engaging post-CF fanfiction delving into them. That's not even going into how Edel's meritocracy is deeply flawed on further thought as it assumes equal opportunity (despite the nobility and the inter-generational wealth of said nobles), and an equal society where everyone is seen and treated as equals (the people of Duscur who are seen as traitors, Almyrans such as Cyril who were enslaved and forced to work, Nabataens and Edel's blatant racism towards them, etc). Let me make this clear; a meritocracy is better than feudalism or a monarchy outright. The issue isn't inherently with meritocracies, nor is it to dissuade changing the current system of Fodlan. The problems I have with Edel's meritocracy is the total lack of foresight and the refusal to engage with Edel's actions that brought in the system. Meritocracies can work but considering the broader context and political landscape of Fodlan: Edel's meritocracy was a system founded after violently conquering two sovereign nations against the leaders and the civilians wills. Many of these civilians do harbour resentment towards the government (as seen in Hubert/Shamir's ending where they act as secret cops 🤢), how Edelgard only really gives resources to people she knows aka nepotism (especially to Caspar and Bernie who are woefully not well suited for the roles the get). There's also the ugly turd by removing the corrupt nobles who kept her in check, there are no safeguards against Edelgard or future successors abusing their power (which Edel's use of her power is pretty questionable seen in Hubert/Dorothea gathering intelligence for the empire and Hubert/Shamir with being cops). ======== (1/2)

2/2 ==== I wanna bring up how Petra was treated; poor girl was kidnapped from her home, tossed into a hostile foreign land where she didn't speak the language and received no support at all from her peers. Going so far as Hubert calling her an animal (we love microaggresions if not outright aggresions to poc). Edelgard assumes her and Petra to be equals, that Petra is completely fine but Edel is oblivious or callous towards the gross power imbalance between the two. Petra is constantly trying to appease society by learning the local tongue, constantly trying to appease Edelgard and prove her own independence to ensure Brigid doesn't appear weak. Edel does show concern, I'll give her that, but she really doesn't do anything to truly help Petra. Iirc, Petra had to learn the entire language by herself without ANY help from anyone, not even Edel nor Hubert stepped in (tho Hubert can gawk at Petra like shes an animal). How is it unfair to assume that if Edel can't even address blatant inequality and oppression towards Petra, something that was in her face, how can she ensure that her meritocracy won't perpetuate further inequality and oppression on a wider scale? I really wish the fandom weren't so scared nor so adverse to exploring these issues in a post-CF fan fiction and really take a deep dive into Edelgard's rule outside of 'Fodlan was super corrupt, Rhea is the absolute fucking worst and Dimitri was just a Rhea Stan, Claude was aaaaalmost cool but he didn't want to work with Edelgard which sucks because they would SO be besties (even tho Claude experienced violent racism and would not tolerate Edel's pasty ass spewing vitriol how Nabataens are inhuman beasts) but its soooooo sad he didn't see Edelgard's goals, BTW CRESTS ARE THE FUCKING WORST :3'. Like, the only thing I have ever read to addressing the flaws Edelgard's rule was To Those Who Are Never Going Home by MadameHyde (but stiiiill doesn't hit the spot for me since its more focused on Garreg Mach than the wider society of Fodlan on itself). I believe in women's wrongs and Edelgard did SO MUCH shit wrong, let👏Edelgard👏be👏pointed👏out👏in👏the👏wrong👏. It sucks that nobody wants to engage or even play with that side of Edelgard, so I'm now stuck developing my own post-CF fanfiction/AU exploring an Adrestian-Garreg Mach and the world of Fodlan moulded by Edelgard's rule lmfao. I really want to explore a politically unstable and balkanized Fodlan, and it's so sad that nobody else sees the vision 😔 Thanks for reading my entire infodump about Edelgard and sitting through this entire essay lmfao. — 🍑 Anon

Oh dear goddess have mercy on me

CF's ending makes no sense when you realize that TWSITD can just nuke Fhirdiad right then and there and win. Thales can also just... brainwash Edelgard and turn her into a puppet according to hopes. It's the least logical ending.

Edelgard's system ultimately would only benefit the strong. The 'weak' (sick, elderly, poor, disabled, etc.) just have to pull themselves up by their bootstraps according to our emperor, but we all know how well that will work.

And yep, the nepotism runs strong with her. Caspar and Bernadetta are NOT fit to rule. We know from one of the endings that Caspar acts recklessly and dangerous on military campaigns but people just ignore it. That is a very bad look for Edelgard who just tolerates it.

Petra's whole situation deserves her own post tbh. She's a political hostage who gets treated like dirt. Edelgard couldn't even help her learn the language despite the fact that she has all of the resources to do so.

let👏Edelgard👏be👏pointed👏out👏in👏the👏wrong👏

write this on my gravestone lol

[sanctuary1988]

~ The Heart Of The Poet |10| Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: strangers to lovers?, angst, feelings of [loss, grief, mourning], mentions of character dead, attending a funeral, TENSION, subtle signs of depression, the Chief Counselor is an ass (we all hate him tbh), melancholy, crying, more angst, sad poetry, feelings of yearning and hidden compassion, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: Happy Birthday to our dear Soo Hyuk! ❤️ I wanted to post this right on his birthday and it's finished! Darlings, we are already at an important point of the story and we'll start seeing some more development on Gwi and Flower's relationship! 🙈

Tagging @my-day6 and @yumisventingmachine who likes my poems for this story. Thank you darlings for your lovely comments that have made me write like a freak, lmao. And to everyone who's silently reading, I hope you will enjoy this chapter as well.

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

*A/N: There's a poem I wrote for this story that you'll find in this chapter, I do not allow for it to be used in any other media or to be reposted/translated.

Rain was falling from the skies, as if they were grieving alongside you. You could hear the soft patter of rain against the ground above as you sat in your room, your eyes that had once been filled with warmth and love were now empty, void of any emotions whatsoever. Not even sadness lingered in your (e/c) gaze. 

You stared at the letter Gwi had given you. He said your mother had written it yet you couldn't bring yourself to open it. Reading it would mean closure to her death. That you accepted the fact that she was gone from this world. But you couldn’t wrap your head around that idea. It made your heart clench and tears to sting your eyes with the pearls of sadness that rolled down your cheeks in silent mourning. 

A sudden presence made you blink as you looked up only to find Gwi walking towards you with slow steps that matched your heartbeat. Your eyes locked with his and he missed the warmth that once lived in those eyes he loved to look at. He now saw a shell of the woman that had lived with him in his palace for the last months. He could no longer see you as the light in his dark life for you were now drowning in the shadows of grief as well. 

“It’s time, petal.”

He said. His voice sounded deeper than usual, or maybe you had been in silence for too long. Without a word, you stood up. Your black hanbok trailed behind you as you walked with monotonous steps towards him. But you didn’t stop by his side, you walked past him and down the hallway that led to your bedroom. 

Gwi closed his eyes as he got a taste of your scent that lingered in the air for a second too long before he walked behind you. Slowing down his own pace so as to not rush you. To not disturb the little peace you were having in that moment. 

It had been three days since the news of your mother’s death reached you. Three days since the vampire lord has seen you in mourning. Three days that felt so empty to your once rich soul. 

He had not seen you cry after that fateful day. You withdrew yourself, living in the confinements of your room, drowning in your own sadness. He followed you in silence, his own robes trailing behind him as he walked slower than his usual pace. Your hair cascaded down your back, not even a hairpin decorated your beautiful locks. You walked in silence, like a ghost of dried tears. 

You stepped out of the underground palace and walked up the stairs that led to such sanctuary. He walked next to you, holding an umbrella over your figure. The rain mirrored your sadness as it patterned over the stone floors of the royal palace. You were going to your mother’s funeral. The last farewell to a noble lady that was married to a powerful court member. Your father was going to be there but you didn’t seem to grasp that thought as tightly as Gwi thought you would. 

He guided you through your darkness. A lighthouse in the thunderstorm. The moon in a dense night. A flame in the sea of tears you were drowning in. He walked with you, by you and told you where to go. He held you, protected you and cared for your safety. Yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to speak of your gratitude towards him. Not now, at least. For your soul was lost in a myriad of memories long lost, stolen by fate and crumbled by death. 

The room was filled with people you didn’t know. The rain could still be heard outside. You walked, the court members and their wives parted as you walked with your head held high and your spirit shattered. Your eyes held no emotion but your hands shook with the depths of your grief. At the very end of the room, your mother’s casket rested while flowers surrounded her final resting place. 

You came face to face with your father, your eyes met his but despite the inner turmoil in your heart, you couldn’t bear to see him with his nearly bored expression. 

“You shouldn’t be here, (y/n).”

He spoke, words being hissed out at you almost afraid of others hearing him. Gwi’s grip tightened around the umbrella, the tension in the air palpable. His words lingered in the air like a toxic fog, poisonous to your wounded heart. Your father’s indifference was a stark contrast to the sorrow that enveloped you. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of your tears, he didn’t deserve them. 

So your eyes narrowed ever so subtly, straightening up your back as you looked at the imposing figure of your father while his own gaze despised your presence.

“I have every right to be here, just like you. She was my mother.”

Silence stretched between you both. A flicker of something- frustration, discomfort- crossed his features. But it was gone as fast as it came and he stepped aside, allowing you to pass wordlessly.

Gwi followed you, admiring your strength in this moment of vulnerability. He could feel your father’s gaze on him. Criticising his presence, judging his sudden compassion. But he didn’t care. He’d deal with him later. But now, all that matters is you. All that he cared about was for you to find some sort of closure. Even when he was to blame for your immense heartache

As you approached the casket and the ceremonial table, you knelt down. The scent of the flower was almost overwhelming. Your fingers brushed one of the white lilies as tears clouded your vision but you fought to keep them at bay. You paid your mother the respect she deserved, bowing down at her time and time again. 

The vampire lord stood at a respectful distance away, his eyes never leaving you. His hands itched to reach out, to hold you, to tell you it was okay to grieve and cry. But there were so many people in the room, there were so many things that were crossing your mind in that moment and he knew this was a journey you had to take on your own terms. So he simply watched over you, like a silent guardian. Ready to catch you if you were to fall. 

The ceremony continued but your mind was elsewhere. He allowed you to visit your mother for the last time, as if that would repent him for keeping you away from her. He accompanied you, knowing that in your silence you craved for someone to rely on. You knelt next to the casket, feeling a lump grow in your throat with every passing second. Your hands fisted the fabric of your black dress as you did your best to contain your emotions that threatened to spill over without mercy. 

Gwi stood by your side, his eyes void of any emotion as he looked around the room filled with hypocrites that wished to get into the Chief Counselor’s good side. He watched over you like a feral wolf protecting his one and only rose. You suddenly stood up and the movement made him look down at you. 

“Take me away from here. I can’t bear it any longer.”

Your eyes were filled with tears, pleading up to him to take you out of this sea of sadness you were drowning in. If only he could take your pain away, he would. Gwi didn’t say anything, he simply grabbed your hand before he was taking you out of the room. Completely ignoring the whispers and gossip from the people, he didn’t even bother in telling them to shut up. His mind was clouded with the sole need to take you away from such a place of pain and heartbreak. 

The rain hadn’t stopped, the journey back to the underground palace was shrouded in silence, the only sound being the soft patter of rain against the paper umbrella Gwi held above your head, keeping you both dry from the harsh drops that fell from the sky yet you barely noticed the path beneath your feet, your mind was consumed by a thick fog of grief. 

You were in your room staring at the magnificent cherry tree. The letter your mother wrote to you rested on your desk as if it were mocking you. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, blink the tears back and bury your emotions just like Gwi did but your heart was softer and the pain was cruller. 

“You need to eat, flower.”

He spoke, his voice deep and reaching you in waves that only made you sigh to yourself. You didn’t answer him, you didn’t even move and an eerie silence filled the bedroom. That was until you spoke words laced with a poison you weren’t aware of. 

“Why did you keep me here?”

Whispers of your pain. That was what you spoke. Whispers of a broken heart. You looked up at Gwi with tears threatening to roll down your cheek and the sole sight of your pain, so raw and palpable, pulled at his heartstrings. 

“Do you blame me?”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at him. Waiting for an answer to the question he had voiced out. Feeling a tightness grip your heart with harsh claws that make you want to scream out your pain. Never had you experienced such an amount of pain in your life. And the worst part was that there was no cure for your suffering. You had lost someone you loved and there’s no medicine for a broken heart. 

“If you hadn’t stopped me from seeing her, I would have been able to spend some time with her.”

Gwi understood your words were said from the deep hollow of your wounded heart. Yet that didn’t mean your words did not hurt him as well. 

“You don’t know that, petal.”

You only closed your eyes, your hands balled the fabric of your dress as you fought with all your might the tears that wanted to spill. The pain that wanted to break you and the soul that wanted to escape this harsh reality. 

“My Lord… please. I-I need to be alone…. Please…”

His heart clenched at the sound of your broken plea. So vulnerable. So fragile. He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. What was there to say anyway? Gwi left. Just like before he left you alone in your darkness but this time, it had been a product of your own desire. 

You sobbed the moment you were alone. Curling yourself in your bed as your bitter tears soaked the soft fabric beneath you. You bit your lip, trying to contain your wails and sobs but even as Gwi paced in the throne room he was able to hear your heart-wrenching whimpers. 

After some time, your sounds of pain faded into the shadows of the underground palace and the vampire lord found himself walking back to your room. His steps filled with a desperate need to be with you, even when your desire was to be alone. Even when you closed in and on yourself, he had to see you. 

He knew he was going against your wishes but for a moment, a fleeting fragment of time, he could no longer ignore the screams of his frozen heart. Gwi entered your room and noticed you had fallen asleep. His steps were silent as he approached you. Your fresh tear-stained cheeks, a testament of the depth of your pain, made him want to take your sadness away.

He knelt by your side, watching over you in the quiet of the room while his thoughts were nothing but a tumult of regret and helplessness. The vampire lord had lived through centuries of human suffering yet it was your pain that cut him differently, like anything he had ever witnessed before. 

Gwi’s eyes softened with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel- vulnerability. For his hand extended as if to wipe your liquid grief only for it to retract at the last second. He fisted it by his side before leaving your room, his heart in turmoil at the sight of your pain. At the beauty of your heartbreak that tore at his very own soul, a soul that was clearly not dead as he once claimed it to be. 

Days passed in a blur of darkness and silence. You barely ate, barely slept as the hours blended between dreams and reality combined into an endless night. One afternoon, Gwi entered your room to get you to eat something. You were growing weaker with each day you spent drowning in your grief and he couldn’t bear to see you like this. You were his precious petal but his sweet flower was withering away. 

The vampire lord grew surprised when he did not see you laying on your bed, instead you were reading a book as you sat under the cherry blossom tree, your back resting on the tree trunk as you turned a page and your eyes danced over the written words that took you out of your cruel reality. 

“What are you reading, sweet flower?”

You looked up only to find him already walking towards you. Once he stood next to you, you answered with tired eyes and a voice slightly hoarse with disuse. 

“Just a book of poetry.”

Was your answer. You grew surprised when Gwi sat down next to you, the petals from the tree fell slowly around you and you got lost in him as he looked down at you until his gaze landed on the book on your lap. His eyes narrowed slightly as he recognised the worn leather cover and the handwriting on the pages was strangely familiar. He gently took the book from your hands, you didn’t protest and watched him as he examined the book. 

“I told you not to read sad stories.”

He spoke after a minute or two, his tone laced with gentleness yet there was a hint of reprimand in his voice. 

“They are oddly comforting.” 

Your words carried no other emotion other than a deep melancholy. Your eyes got lost in the distance as your murmured words left your lips. Gwi sighed, closing the book before he spoke once more. 

“These poems were written during a really difficult time for the author. They are sad, petal. I don’t want you to be sad because of this book.”

You sighed, looking up at Gwi as he gazed at the closed book in his hands with storms swirling in his dark eyes that from time to time, you could swear held a tint of crimson within them. 

“How do you know? Have you read it, My Lord?”

He looked at you now, his eyes fixing on your lips for a split second before they returned to gaze at your dulled-out (e/c) eyes. 

“I wrote it, flower of mine.”

You grew surprised at his sudden confession. You didn’t think he could be the author of such dark poems that held so much longing for something you couldn’t understand. 

“They are beautiful.”

You weren’t sure what you saw flashing in his eyes after you spoke your true heart to him. Those poems, that book had made you feel understood in your grief, the words described your sorrow and for once you felt seen while being in darkness. He could sense the genuineness in your words and his eyes softened as he glanced at you. 

“Not all of them were sad, though. The last one was my favourite.”

He tilted his head to the side, a soft gesture that made butterflies swarm in your stomach. With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair out of your face and you found yourself trapped in his gaze almost as if he had hypnotised you. Perhaps he had for you couldn’t look away from his mysterious eyes that held so many depths and secrets you were curious to find out. 

You wrapped your arms around your knees as they were pressed against your chest, you rested your cheek on top of them, never breaking eye contact with the vampire lord who sat next to you. 

“Can you read it for me, My Lord?”

How could he deny you? Your request was whispered to the air, only for him to hear. You didn’t know but his heart swelled with something he couldn’t name at the intensity of your eyes as you looked at him as if he held your whole world. His eyes held such tenderness you could have melted right then and there. There was an air of melancholy and silent understanding between you both. Gwi picked up the book once more, his large hand going through the pages of his own pain and sorrow that were written down from centuries ago. 

With a gentle breath, he began to read, his voice a low, soothing murmur that enveloped you like a warm embrace. 

The face of sorrow is mine to bear. 

A life I lost, a dead fate. 

But a gift fell from the heavens. 

A hope born from the embers. 

A life, like a flower. 

A tear, like rain. 

History of power, 

Mistress of pain. 

To cherish life is to welcome death. 

Sing the song of a thousand angels. 

Let my sins live with every breath. 

And let my darkness guide my trembling steps. 

For every tear a rose is born, 

With roots of blood I cannot control. 

A dance of love

and a story that was never told.

You smiled as he finished reading. He closed the book and set it aside as he looked at you with curious eyes. A moment of silence passed between you both that neither wished to break as the words hung in the air, a live testament of life’s old fate. 

“You have such a beautiful talent with words, My Lord.”

He let out a breath, almost scoffing at your words in a playful way as he leaned back on the trunk of the tree before his hand twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers. 

“You weren’t meant to read those poems, petal, but I’m glad you liked them.”

You hummed to yourself. Feeling a peace settle in your mind and body as you relaxed in his presence. Your eyes closed and you sighed to yourself as the soft aroma of the petals around you filled your senses and calmed your racing thoughts. 

“Maybe you should write more often. They are truly beautiful.”

“We’ll see, flower, we’ll see.”

Your mind began to get foggy as the exhaustion of your grief caught up to you as you began to slip into the land of dreams. Gwi adjusted you in his hold, making sure you were comfortable as he stared into the vastness of the bedroom. You leaned against his side, your head resting on his shoulder as you slept after days of constant mourning and tiredness of the mind. 

The vampire lord couldn’t help but look down at you. Taking in your beauty, your trust in him and the magnificent truth of your innocent soul when it came to the heart of the poet. His eyes were soft and tender as he looked at you, your expression serene in slumber compared to the turmoil you had been through in the last days. His fingers caressed your cheek ever so delicately, his touch like a whisper on a winter night as it ghosted your skin. 

The soft glow of the candlelight casted gentle shadows across the room, illuminating the fragile features of your face that held a beauty like no other. Gwi could feel the steady rhythm of your breath against his side, a soothing cadence that lulled his own restless mind. 

He knew your sorrow wouldn’t go away with a simple poem but his protectiveness over you grew with each passing second. You were more to him than a servant, than a lady that was willingly spending her life by his side. You were his flower. His precious petal. A beautiful flower in a garden of dead roses. 

You are my soul, in faith, my prayer,

You are my kingdom, and my world;

You are my peace, my bosom's love,

You are my spring, my joy, my song.

May/31/2024

A/N: Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

*The last four sentences are not mine, darlings. They are part of a poem from centuries old written during the Ottoman Dynasty from Sultan Suleyman to his wife, Hürrem Sultan. I do not own it, I simply loved it and wanted to include it here!

[missamyrisa2]

I really like the idea of wearing a lovely light floral with fruity-scented perfume while getting sniffed for tickle spots. Then having my clit tickled by a feather and taunting "Coochie coochie coo" right before my big climax!

Ooooh girlyyyyy~ florals are likeeee my tickle aphrodisiac. It seriously ramps up my ticklishness, and my desire to tickle to ridiculous magnitudes. Soooo you're realllyyy gonna draw me in and bring out my awkwardly lustyyyy looks. I daresay even my usual sassy chatty will be at a minimum as I weave around you searching, sniffing, probing for spotssss with my feather and a trailing finger ~ anddd even a little brushyy from my lips as I hummm and ummmh and tickatickaticka in your ear.

When I find those spotssss it's going to be like a lingering lover. Just pausing, admiring, humming as I lean in closer and closer taking a little sniff before confirming with my lips and then teasing, testing with my feather before squeaking and diving in with tickly fingers. Mmmhmm mmmhmming when I make you sing for me. I knowww I'lll be alll over those sides and belly and armpits and neck and collar and thighs, testing and probing and sniffing and verifying. Getting more vivacious with you by the moment as your scent and sounds overload my desires to make you a writhing messsss~

The coochie coooos I'll save for when we get to that royal girly button. Only the most fancy of coos for your regal garden ~ and I'm gonna make you blooooom soo much with my feather. I'll be right in there, watching so closely, pausing to kiss and lickle your thighsss as my feather draws up and down your cuuuuute clitty. I want to make your adorable girly pearly flower so pretty and ticklish and sensitive. Just the feather, just the tip at times grazing up and down with whimsical lightness drawing out alll your giggles and squeaks and moans. Coochie coooochie coooooo ~ over and over, my nose brushing your thighs and ooh yes even your royal area for an extra tingly ticklyyyy moving the air around ~ giving you a little puff of air back on your hotttt wanting button button. But ooh it's only the feather. Only the coochie cooos that'll do it. I want to make you tickle right through it all my sweet flower, my darling rose. Only the best tickly tickles for you. Only coochie coochie cooo for youuu ~<3

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

💧 📸🍁🥞😭 with Ford for the oc but technically fandom for you asks hehe

💧 - droplet: random angst headcanon

ford once stumbled across a makeshift graveyard outside of jheselbraum's (house? palace? ehh...), out of view. it took him a few seconds to realize what it was, and he never spoke a word of it to anyone, including jheselbraum herself

he found it after he accepted and received the surgery

📸 - camera: do they enjoy having their picture taken? what's their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

in certain situations, yes. you gotta make sure he's aware it's happening and that he's okay with it, though! otherwise, he's not happy about it >:[

his go-to pose is 'stanley get in here'. given the opportunity, he will always drag his brother into it somehow

he likes taking photos a lot! capturing scenery is relaxing for him, it's useful for when he needs to translate things he can't just yoink, and it's especially good for occasions where he can't get a sketch of an anomaly down! plus he likes showing them to stan, so he just takes pictures of cool stuff in general, too!

('stanley, look, a deer!' 'we see deer all the time' 'but this one is shedding its velvet!' '...oh, yeah, it is...huh. neat')

🍁 - maple leaf: what is their favorite season? why?

ae've always thought autumn, but spring would probably make the most sense (ae mean. maybe not though, cause aey favorite season is winter and that's the one where ae'm most miserable. maybe ford likes autumn and winter too. brains are weird man)

autumn is the period after weirdmaggedon, the start of it is marked by the niblings' birthday, and it's likely the season in which ford and stan began sailing. all pretty good reasons to like it, ae think! plus it's pretty

🥞 - pancake: what is their comfort breakfast?

pancakes and scrambled eggs. he likes stan's cooking, even if the stancakes do have some...questionable ingredients involved...the scrambled eggs are more because of their non-stress associations. they're easy mornings, they're recovering from sickness, they're bright and sunny, they're childhood breakfasts you never got to have

and, of course, stan making the scrambled eggs just makes it that much better <3

😭 - crying: what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

stan getting his memory erased was essentially the straw that broke the camel's back

ford was always really good at keeping a tight grip on tears. he wasn't going to cry unless he wanted to, and when he wanted to was usually when it could get beings to throw him a metaphorical bone in the multiverse

he was raised not to cry! so he never did

then stan got blasted in the face with a memory wipe and that all went down the drain

somedays? it acts on its own accord. he doesn't mean to cry, doesn't know why he does, but the tears slip out nonetheless. he finds it more annoying than anything. ae mean, come on, now stan's gonna ask him what's wrong and not believe him when he says nothing! mabel, of course, considers this a positive. she says it's a sign that he's healing. he doesn't know if he believes her quite yet, but she's pretty damn smart, so he's willing to go along with it until he does

other days? a bird flies into the window and dies. stan steps on a snail while they're walking the street. those flowers are all wilted. he accidentally chipped the paint on that mural. soos installs a bug zapper

stan takes him for ice cream and he ends up crying from that too because you don't understand, lee, it's been so long!!! it's been SO LONG!!!

stan does understand, and honestly? he's kinda glad his brother is able to let himself feel these things, if even a little bit. he's used to nothing, so of course something is gonna make him tear up a bit. something is still good, though, so he's happy it's happening

[an0ther-f00ls-muse]

The different Interpretations/Portrayals of my Muses!! ((Be aware, this may be somewhat ‘cringe’ & ooc as I have yet to actually play the damn game & dlc yet, however I did watch a lot of lore videos, soo yeah-))

My Portrayal(s) of ‘Queen Marika the eternal’

I technically do two different versions of her, a much, much younger version of her before the hornsent did their whole jarring thing, so if you wanna do something with her just let me know which one you wanna do things with lol.

The main points that are most important

-> My village version of Queen-Marika <-

-> This first interpretation/portrayal of Marika is that, as a younger woman that she is more akin to ‘Roderika’ with the fact she’s more of an actual ‘Spirit-Tuner’.

-> My younger version of Marika I’ll be using as a muse here doesn’t really talk, she usually uses simple sign language, she doesn’t actually speak until the whole ‘hornsent-activities’ in my interpretation/portrayal & the only reason she even talks after that is because of the jars & such.

-> She has turquoise-green eyes up until her ascension into her godhood, much akin to the eye color of Messmer’s serpents actually.

-> She is more passive & peaceful up until everything that happened with her village & the ‘hornsent’, so keep that in mind if you wanna do anything with her younger-self of her lol.

-> My younger version of Marika likes flowers, a lot and just likes making different things out of them, so if you ask for a starter with this version of her just keep this in mind maybe lol.

-> She technically ‘named’ my own muse version of Radagon, this won’t automatically apply to your ‘Radagon &/or Marika’ muses unless we discussed otherwise for RP purposes!!!

-> She’s not as tall as she is in canon just yet, she has some more growing to be doing despite being an adult, she won’t be her canon height until a bit after her ascension into her godhood.

->:My more current version of Queen-Marika<-

-> She’s her actual canon height in this version of herself now, keep this in mind ig.

->This will be the version of her that actually talks with her words nowadays, however she still knows her sign language.

-> she can still somewhat use her ‘Spirit-Tuner’ abilities, but she doesn’t do it as often and is pretty damn rusty by now.

-> her eyes & hair are fully golden now, as golden as the actual Elden-Ring by now.

-> Her skin has many small ‘cracks’ all around her upper body, it’ll just won’t be as noticeable as the ones she gets after the ‘shattering’ (aka the trailer)

-> She does somewhat try to be a good- or at least half decent mother to her children but she isn’t really good at it nine times out of ten.

-> My muse version of Marika has very complicated feelings about her omen twins, she loved them and didn’t know how to deal with that factor and the way that omen’s in general were viewed whatsoever. (This won’t affect your Muses unless we discuss it for RP purposes!!)

-> Both of my muses of Marika & Radagon have complicated feelings for each other, they don’t really like each other anymore- it’s bad. (Once again, this will not affect your own muse version of them both unless we discuss it for RP purposes!!)

-> my version of Marika did & does honestly love her children, so there will occasionally be some kind of this aspect in my RP’s unless asked/discussed otherwise.

-> on my blog, Marika is the one that give her youngest twins the seed to grow the ‘Hailg-Tree’. 

-> Marika on this blog threw away a part of herself that became the Gloam-Eyed Queen.

-> Queen Marika, after the jarring of her people because of the hornsent, she was made to be more or less a ‘Saint’ for their people & she was mostly ‘raised/re-educated’ by the grandam afterwards.

[thesoftestcowboy]

thoughts on the colors red, blue, green, and yellow? any comments on the shapes triangle, square, or circle?? rhombus

first of all i gotta tell you that im enjoying this ask twice as much cause i got multiple spam asks since yesterday and did not expect an actual question... anyway. im gonna answer this 200% in earnest, as it should be, obviously (yes i actually did write this out, strap in ig)

red: listen i know everyones favorite color seems to be blue for some reason but red is RIGHT THERE. i heard somewhere that not all languages differentiate the same colors as english (and other european languages), but the first color after light/dark there will be a word for is usually red. idk if thats true but seems plausible, cause yknow whats red? fuckin berries to eat, also blood (either concerning or also to eat, ig). cavepeople knew red was important business. also its pretty and you use it to make pink.

blue: not to imply that blue isnt also good. its got a range. looks very fresh. i do like a teal-ish blue but others are cool also. its really rare in nature ig? but if it does occur its looks rly good! (im saying this rn cause my desktop wallpaper has blue flowers lmao) also if i had a cent for every time i had dreams with intense, seemingly really significant blue night skies, i'd have 2 cents, which isnt much but weird etc etc.

green: ok i like green but, unpopular opinion time, i want neither a green couch nor a green kitchen. i want a pink couch and a blue kitchen. that being said green fucks and is part of some iconic things, such as HES GEEN, and also my favorite song green soop by dooboo, which references the fact that soups can be green (@geminyde)

yellow: finally yellow is super underappreciated. im kinda mad that yellow doesnt suit me super well in clothes cause theres so many cool yellow things id want on a shirt. people only ever think of bright neon yellow but it also had SHADES.

now, the shapes. people at art school will try to convince you that these have some deeper meaning and even a gender (??) cause some guy whose name i forgot claimed they do and thats bs. heres the actual truth about them. triangle pointy. also an instrument! theyre really flexible cause they can have wildly different angles and like?? thats different from squares, which are literally all the same, except for size ig? but thats nice it gives them a sense of stability. theyre ol reliable. ever wonder why they had town squares but never town triangles? well,

anyway the circle is most definitely the princess of shapes. you might think its really basic compared to like uhh a trapezoid or whatever cause you learn about it in kindergarten, but its so fucked up it has ZERO angles?? but then if you wanna render it its got a huge amount of angles/into infinity instead? you can calculate any shapes area with basic maths basically but ohh noo not the circle. its soo special. we love that for him but you gotta be honest.

ngl i had to look up what a rhombus is and its just idk a Raute ig. its a rectangle who wants to be special. which is fine we all need some attention sometime but like, its a rectangle on its side. its doing its own thing. i think it should have a different english name tho tbh. rhombus reminds me of the name rhonda and that has a different vibe. idk if that one was also a question or just an addition tbh but there u go

so thats it thanks for asking like comment subscribe

[safyresky]

BUD-A-BOOP-BOP! TWINS!

boy HOWDY have some THURSDAY NIGHT SCRIMBLES! 🥳 Now in magical TECHICOLOUR! It's older Twins! Fino and Fiera!

Design stuff below the cut 🤗🤗

My god I'm having fun with these markers. But the colours are LIMITED as I only have like 2 starter sets and they're FUN but deffs I could use a few more in betweens.

ANYWAY. DESIGNS.

Fino

Doing my boy first bc we already had fun with Older Fiera ages ago lmao

I'd been wanting to share his older design for AGES tbh! Had it in me head around the same time as I shared the older twins and Jacquie scribbles lol. ANYWAY

He is SEMI fancy! Big fan of button downs and vests/waistcoats!

Doesn't ALWAYS wear the vest

His shirts 9/10 times have funky patterns. Like fungi or flowers or just the weirdest fucking designs you EVER did see. His siblings and orc friend (Kenothy) all make it a fun game to find him the most OBNOXIOUSLY WEIRD SHIRTS. His collection is HUGE and VARIED and HURTS THE EYES FIFTY PERCENT OF THE TIME

he is like a walking mullet but the business is on top, the party is below. He is a jeans man through and through and you can pry his converse/kicks off his cold, dead feet tbh. they are ALWAYS red. he probably has like 10 pairs like some kinda cartoon character

belt is pink bc fiera's magic! the inside of his cloak is rainbow, like his twin's fire :D

the cloak also does have a big old hood and covers his whole him so he can look mysteriouse

and then give people whiplash when he whips the cloak back and pulls the hood down and. well. on fire colourful schemey looking young man

everyone's usually like "i didn't expect the freckles. or the fungi shirt"

the fungi shirt is his fave

plz picture a fungi pattern all over his shirt!

when he uses his staff, the flame turns rainbow too and the snowflake glows :3

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Fino's warlock aesthetic is "i live in your local forest and i love my family and i'm making it everyone's problem"

the outside of the cloak is a nice forest green! bc he likes forests (if that wasn't obvious lol)

he's pretty chill but has resting plotting face. generally if he's looking like that he has examined every angle of a situation and is about to make a bigger one. or fix the current one. or both!! and is VERY proud of himself!!!! (as he SHOULD be!)

he and Fiera ARE the same height but I drew Fiera first and started Fino top down as you do but neglected to watch the height lol. so just know. they are BOTH tall and BOTH the same height!!!!

He is the BEST warlock of the current era he is warlocking in. If Uncle Pyros was around he'd be mad jealous. Same with Granny Frost tbh. Grandpa Winter would like, lift him up like Simba like "THAT'S MY GRANDBSON! THE BEST WARLOCK IN THE WHOLE WORLD!"

(if the bio grandparents were around, you bet it would be a big case of "the in-laws don't get along" lmao)

Fiera

pink is her fave colour and the colour of her magic, so her shirt, shoes, AND hair ribbons are all pink, but it's a lil light, innit? like i said, limited colours lol

BUT WE'RE HAVING A GRAND OLD TIME DOWN THIS WAY.

EVEN IF MY NOSE SMELLS LIKE ALCOHOL ALL THE DAMN TIME

RIGHT. FIERA.

HOT PANTS! SHE'S GOT HOT PANTS!!! They're not that dark blue, bit of a lighter wash for her denim (but I don't have a lot of blue options lol)

suspenders are red bc FINO'S MAGIC! one is always hanging off of her, the other is always up. she doesn't do this on purpose it just HAPPENS bc she doesn't actually really need them? it's the FASHION. the STYLE.

sometimes hair ribbons are red too, bc Fino magic :3

ALSO wears converse but the boot like ones, bc I've always wanted a pair of boot converse! They look SOO COOL and SOO INCONVENIENT, AND THEY ARE COLOURFUL! I mean. Fiera's are pink but I'VE SEEN ALL THE COLOURS. AND I WANT.

I mean. why make OCs if not for them to wear the things you can't have/afford/pull off?

huehuehue

she's not THAT buff tho she is pretty strong. i am a writer by trade so my doodles are not to scale (read: scrimbly). anyway, she's probably usually a tank/halter top person??? this doodle just really wanted to be a t-shirt!

both twins have elements of their outfits inspired by the fam, not TOTALLY on purpose but it did make me cackle as I noticed them so TAKE THIS QUICK SYNOPSIS:

Fino:

dress shirt, belt over suspenders: blaise vibes

big ol cloak: winter vibes

comfortable shoes: jacquie vibes

vest: jack vibes

Fiera:

suspenders: jack and blaise vibes (both are known to wear them as an accessory instead of for their intended purpose of keeping pants up)

hot pants and boot like shoes: jacquie vibes

hair buns: winter vibes

man, I love the older twins. the SHENANIGANS they get INTO! they're a dream team, you won't know what hit you by the time they're through with you 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[zermizomilk]

 Do you have freckles? 

 Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

How tall are you? 

What color are your eyes? 

Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

Fears? 

What’s your favorite color? 

What’s your favorite season? 

Want any tattoos? What of? 

Want any piercings? Where? 

Who is the last person you texted? 

Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends? 

What/who do you miss? 

How was your day today? 

How much sleep did you get last night? 

Do you believe in aliens? 

When was the last time you cried? Why? 

What’s your favorite decade? 

What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

What’s your favorite book? Or just one you’ve read a few times? 

How are you, really? 

Does it take you a long time to make decisions? 

What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

What are you looking forward to in the distant future? 

If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? 

What’s your favorite flower? 

Do you currently have a squish? 

Do you like your middle name? 

Do you prefer dogs or cats? 

Do you have any phobias? 

Do you stay up late?

Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

What’s your favorite cartoon? 

Tag 5 of your favorite blogs

Do you have siblings? How many? 

Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

Is there anyone you would die for? 

What do you need when you’re sad? 

Have you memorized your phone number? 

Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

What does your last text say? 

Wild Card. Any question, ask away.  [wild card question: opinion on cheese? <-not sure if i asked this]

nope

tea

got a tape measure this time 178cm

teal ish

physical contact ain't my thing

spiders

either teal or a minty colour

i like winter

no tattoos

earrings

irl friend

yes. 2 years i think by now

pet bird

just woke up so yeah

6 maybe 7 hours of sleep

nah

read paper trails a year ago my eyes got watery

2020. I know it was shit all round but it was a field day for content creation

i guess cartoons

don't really read book lesst i got to but i guess pinocchio

angry

"im quick with decisions but when it comes friendship i go slow so i don't want to fuck up again"

summer break

i guess playing games with friends

id probably stay inside my house

closed

lily

what is a "squish"

where i live we don't really use middle name soo nothing much to say here

think i've said cats before

prob arachnophobia

usually

don't like the beach. i like most things when it's cloudy

"it was adventure time but that ended a while ago but it stays nothings as good as what was on bach then"

the-alakazam-attraction largefound iamunabletothinkofablogname jocket

squiddo01 Don't really like bothering people with tags

1 older brother

friend but i told her accidentally she wasn't supposed to hear that

not really no

to be alone

nope

i guess my brother

goodnight see you tomorrow

cheese good

[thee-morrigan]

Can I cheat and ask for two? How about 2 and 5 for Allegra/herald/Ortega and 22 & 42 for Holland/Nate?

idk if that counts as cheating, but I *do* know I'm happy about it :D

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare? oooh, good question! if Allegra had the nightmare: I can see Ortega getting them to focus on the white noise of his brain to quiet their own mind - like offering a telepathic equivalent of noise-canceling headphones. Danny's instinct would probably be full-body hugs. Allegra usually needs a weighted blanket to sleep semi-well anyway, so I think in the immediate aftermath of a nightmare, they would really enjoy that additional compression to settle. if Allegra is doing the comforting: for Danny, I think their instinct would be to offer the same as a kind of grounding mechanism, both bc they always find it helpful and bc of Danny's tendency to float. for Ortega, I think they'd probably hold him (or let him hold them) and just sort of quietly remind him that they're here, they're still alive and with him.

5. Describe their cozy night in. I just feel like this one is begging for a snippet:

"We could just do takeout." "What? No. This'll be so much better. It won't take that long." "He just doesn't want to deal with the dishes afterward," Allegra's voice, soft and dark as midnight and edged with amusement, drifts into the kitchen from Daniel's living room, where they're busy flicking through movie options. Hovering in the kitchen doorway, Danny whirls, wide-eyed, to look at them, the beginnings of a faint flush already tingeing the bridge of his nose. "That's not--" Ortega's bark of a laugh filters out into the living room. "He never wants to. Actually, he just never does them, full stop." Daniel's protest dies in his throat, and he narrows his eyes at Ortega, arms crossed over his chest. "That's not true," he objects, but there's no real heat behind his words, just a playful indignation that sparks more laughter. "Of course," Allegra muses, that knife's edge of amusement in their voice again, "No one would have to wash dishes if someone hadn't fried another dishwasher."

22. What reminds each of their partner? Some of these feel so obvious lmao but off the top of my head, here are a few for each of them!

things that remind Nate of Holland: - the scent of cinnamon and coffee - post-it notes (Holls is generally prone to marginalia but is obvi not going to like, deface his books, so she leaves a lot of post-its scattered throughout their pages instead) - certain kinds of flowers (e.g., foxgloves)—ones that she’s got tattooed (I know I had a list at some point of which ones and where, but I can’t find it for the life of me. she definitely was particular about which flowers, though. the foxgloves were her most recent though—she got those on her wrist to cover the scars from Murphy).

things that remind Holland of Nate: - the scent of lapsang souchong tea - books, obviously, but particularly poetry (more specifically: almost anything by rilke, adrienne rich's dream of a common language, almost anything by forugh farrokhzad) - soo many songs

42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.) answered here!

otp asks