#image auralization

[shamelesslymkp]

hey. hey tumblr. guess what my next set of edits involves. go on. GUESS.

pls reply or reblog with answers because i am weak and cannot wait a full day by the time the poll is done i will have probably finished the final part making the poll moot

[llycaons]

omg my head MRI is tomorrow...how exciting things move so fast

[melbagirl]

[Image Description: A YouTube comment from Christopher Rocco Prestia, which reads as follows:

I love this! I often talk about the importance of soundscapes and people look at me like I'm crazy. I don't buy a clock unless I like its tick and chime, I test whistling tea kettles and ringing kitchen timers whenever I can before purchasing. I went out of my way to find a microwave with a bell instead of a beep, and I'm incredibly fortunate that the dryer my house came with also has a bell signal. My first car had a physical bell instead of an electronic chime. I am a huge advocate for enclosing kitchens in walls with doors. Otherwise these 'open concept' designs make the entire house sound like a kitchen (with the fridge humming, the echo of a tile/hard floor, and cooking/washing sounds when somebody is busy). Windy days are magical (albeit chilly) with 19th century single pane windows. And who doesn't love a good door creak on a stormy night? My "dream house" will be as passive in its design as possible to avoid unnecessary mechanical noise (the ugliest noise there is, imo). One of my ideas is to have an extremely reverberant central atrium with vents near the ceiling that let in natural sounds like birdsong and rustling leaves. It would be arranged so that direct sound does not reach floor level and so the occupant only hears these sounds after several reflections. I think the effect would be magical! Anyhow, thank you for validating my antics.

/End Image Description]

new kind of guy dropped

[ven0n4t]

live footage of me trying to take a dictation quiz and simultaneously not crash out and my horrible dictation skills and the kid next to me touching my pant pocket button

[kireilien]

a crush’s mental games w/ donghyuck!

pair. crush!donghyuck x fem!reader; wc. 2,491

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing, mentions of alcohol (main scene is at a dive bar), use of haechan’s real name; teasing dom!donghyuck, sub!reader, fem!reader, race neutral reader, hyuck “plots” on you (more like terrorizes the fuck outta you), mentions of other dreamies, forceful submission?, teasing, begging, humiliation?, auralism, reader is physically sensitive, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, use of “pretty”

synopsis. when donghyuck suddenly starts to play his mental games with you, you think you’re starting to become crazy. after years on crushing on him, theres no way he gives you what you’ve needed all this time, right?

note. a repost from this request from a love letter!!! i’m really sad that it didn’t get the attention this deserved so i’m reposting it as a brain ramble bc it’s not in my typical love work style lol :3 this only slightly edited from the og so if you read it feel free to read it again!

one thing about hyuck is that he loves to get under your skin, but this time, it’s so he can get under your clothes. everything before this point has been casual. i mean, the two of you were simply friends in the same friend group for a few years— even if you did have a teensy little crush on him— it was still casual. he would say some stupid shit and that would be all. but there was a sudden switch in nature between the two of you, starting from last week.

he��d start your mental games by staring at you— with no rhyme or reason on days that your friend group met up. he’s staring at you, with this glint. you can’t put your finger on it, but every time he locks eyes with you, he raises a brow. it was almost as if you stared at him first. you obviously look away, feeling the hotness in your cheeks rise up. you would try everything in your power to ignore him but, hyuck is too smart for that. he’d keep going. inching you on bit by bit, making sure you were landing in the palm of his hand, and he’d never let go of you.

once you have the mental image of hyuck staring you down with those bold eyes of his, it can’t leave your brain. over and over, trying to remove and forget that look in your eyes— you can’t. it eats up your sleep. every time you try to sleep, he pops back up. this was exactly what he wanted. to have you constantly think of him— and no one else.

and so, hyuck would purposely not see you for only a few days. making sure that mental image is instilled and locked in. once those few days were over, he can finally terrorize you again. showing up at a random dive bar the two of you frequent at, he can see you across the room, chatting with your friends. to see if he really was imprinted on your mind, he makes himself stand out just a bit so you would notice.

“yo, mark, pass me the cue scuffer.”

the shiver down your spine was cold. lee fucking donghyuck was here. the man that you haven’t seen in a few days, but has eaten at your brain for those same days. he’s only a few feet away from you, though, your back was facing him. you thought you could be cool about it, thinking that you’re just crazy for thinking of him like that out of nowhere.

wrong!

“oh my god, hey guys!” jaemin would walk up near your table, “didn’t think you guys were here, wanna play some rounds with us?” you stay silent as your friends pondered if they’d want to play, but that was only a distraction for you. you completely forgot that he was there. you could see the sleeve of his shirt in your peripheral vision propped up against your table. you stayed focused, focusing on what your friends were saying but his voice.

god, you loved it.

and he knew it.

“guys, just a few rounds? spare us some time? hey, we’ll even buy you a few bottles— on us!” his warm breath fanned your exposed neck. you became hyper aware of his breaths that cascaded down. the way you could feel his laugh when one of your friends joked about not paying back— that’s how close he was. you’re not even facing him, but you know his facial expressions. you know the way his face is contorting by his speech alone. that’s how ingrained he was in your head.

you thought you could avoid it a little longer, but your friends just so happened to ask, “so you up for team rounds, y/n?” you snapped out of your thoughts, “y—yeah! sure.” jeno paired off each partnership with one of your friends and just so happened to say, “you should go with hyuck. you haven’t played much, right? he’s a good guy to listen to.” god fucking damn it, jeno.

hyuck passed it off, “yeah, that’s a good idea.” oh, yeah, sure, good idea my-fucking-ass. donghyuck was ecstatic. it wasn’t just a good idea, it was a splendid idea.

finally. he could put an even larger ‘him’ shaped worm in your head that will never leave your brain. he took this as an opportunity to really get in there. sink your brain to be completely filled with thoughts of him that could never escape you. every single thing he did took over your brain. the way he guided your cue stick around the table— not touching you though. he was just touching the cue stick. or every time you scored a ball hyuck would smile, staring at you at those cute brown eyes, silently congratulating you on that small feat. or every time you missed the ball, his eyes turn dark, his tongue poking at the side of his cheek, softly muttering a, “really, y/n?” close to your ear, but far from your body. every little fucking thing drove you crazy.

he practically conditioned you to be obsessed with him. you noticed every move, every motion, every tweak. everything. you noticed everything.

what got into him?

when the rounds were finally over you put away the cue stick and went to go grab your jacket. donghyuck stops you, “oh? leaving so early?” he quirks as you softly murmur, “i wanna go home.” donghyuck takes this as a chance to call out to everyone, “guys, y/n doesn’t feel too good, imma take her home! see you guys next time.” everyone nods and your friends bid you a goodbye as you walk out.

none of them knew.

none of them knew how batshit insane you felt. having lee donghyuck— the man who consumed every one of your thoughts walk you out. he successfully had you in the palm of his hand and you were never gonna leave it. not like you were planning to anyways.

once he drove you home to your apartment, he gets out with you and walks to your door in complete silence. you hurriedly get your keys to unlock it, hyuck laughs at you, “welp! since you’re in such a rush home i’ll head out—.” you cut him off by dragging him into your apartment and into your bedroom.

he’s got you bad.

sneakily locking your front door, he still pretends he doesn’t know what’s going on in your brain. when in reality, of course he fucking does. he conditioned you to act this way.

when you push him onto the bed as your legs give out, dropping yourself onto your knees in front of him. “why’d you do this to me,” mumbling under your breath. “what?” hyuck questions, pretending he didn’t hear you.

you repeat yourself, just a little louder.

hyuck still “can’t” hear you, he repeats.

a shaky breath leaves your lips, “why. did you. do this. to me?”

“what’s the ‘this,’ you’re talking about? i don’t know what i’ve been doing to you, y/n. i’ve been normal all this time. you just can’t tell me.” hyuck sighs as he looks you. your knees are spread, your hands are on your knees, your head is down, your eyes are peering up at him through your lashes. it almost looked like you were apologizing to him.

“you make me insane, donghyuck.”

“oh, do i?”

“yes, you do.”

“how insane?”

of course the least sane out of the two of you would ask that.

“you make my brain stop working. you make my breath stop whenever you do something. you make me so focused on whatever you do, it’s eating me away.” you grit in between your teeth. you were giving into him.

“i see,” he starts, “so what’re you gonna do with me?”

a quick snap of your head causes you to lock eyes with him. he’s peering down at you with those dark eyes again. those same dark eyes that’s been haunting you ever since he started staring at you. “tell me, pretty. what are you gonna do with me? tell me.” he sighs as his fingers grazes— no, ghosts your jaw. you can barely feel the pads of his fingertips. he’s not touching you. again.

“touch me,” you blurt.

donghyuck gives in and fully cups your jaw. your spine nearly gives out, you almost melt in his touch. “oh, is that what you’ve been wanting from me? you simply wanted my touch? you should’ve told me from the start, pretty.” his voice goes low when he speaks. his mouth is smooth above your hair, but you can still hear every vowel, every consonant of his words.

he only keeps his singular hand on your jaw as you look back at him. “aren’t you gonna touch me more?” you croak. he cocks his head, “what? you only said ‘touch me’ with no other indication where else. where do you want me to touch you?”

your brain is going on overdrive.

every single fucking word he says is making your arousal stain your panties like no other. he knows where to touch you. he just needs to hear it.

“touch my pussy.”

“oh, so now we’re suddenly being bold?”

bold wasn’t a good choice of word.

it was more of… obvious?

he drops his hand from your cheek and dips his hand underneath your skirt. your panties were uncomfortably sticky against your skin. if it wasn’t for the angle of where your legs were propped up at, you were sure you would’ve stained your floor with your nasty fluid. “oh-ho— fuck, you’re dripping,” hyuck hisses. he didn’t even expect this much out of you. he thought he was simply riling you up, just a little. not panties ruined type of deal. but what is he gonna do? ignore you? now it’s his turn to be obvious.

“so what now, pretty? what do you want me to do to you next? tell me. i know you can speak.”

“take off my clothes. take off your clothes. fuck me till i can’t look away from you ever again.”

“geez, you’re bold as fuck when i get you like this. should’ve done this sooner, amiright?”

you don’t even respond. he’s already stripping you of your clothes, discarding them who knows where in your room. he does the same. when the two of you are bare, you can’t help but hitch your breath under him. god he looks good— and that cock of his is pulsing with need. he diverts your attention away by gently tracing your body. every hair on your skin is reacting to his touch. you’re jolting every time he “accidentally” presses more of his fingertips on your skin.

donghyuck slowly comes close to your ear, a first of ever, “now. tell me you want it.” you shutter. you finally feel his breath right up against your ear. the voice that’s been tantalizing your nerves from the start, they flow through your veins. god, he has you down. “i want— it.” you struggle with your words, and hyuck doesn’t like that. “what’s ‘it,’ y/n?”

again.

again with the choosing of words.

“i want your cock, donghyuck.”

“then beg for it, pretty.”

you flex your jaw, “i need your cock, donghyuck. i need it so fucking bad. i need it— your cock.” he exhales as a laugh, “yeah you need it? wasn’t that fucking hard to admit it,” when donghyuck curses, he thrusts harshly into your cunt. he gazes your face, your jaw is already slack, letting go of the tension you had. he continues still, “could’ve spent days getting fucked into you mattress by me— but you’re a little too shy for that, pretty. gotta make you do everything. i can’t have you just get what you want. you gotta tell me. but i guess— you can let go now. let me fill you up the way that you wanted all this time. don’t even need to say anything anymore. just listen to me talking you to filth. yeah— i’m a ‘good guy to listen to,’ right, pretty?”

and donghyuck was right.

you let everything go. you’re allowing your body to get dug into the mattress by hyuck’s hips— exactly how you needed. you’re allowing him to touch and grip your body the way you’ve been needing. you’re allowing him to read your mind to say and do the things you’ve always needed him to say.

it was about you.

it always was.

“gotta let this pussy clench on— me, the way it always— wanted, no— needed. pathetically fucking moaning as if i’m— not even here. god, if you just admitted it sooner— maybe i could’ve fucked this pussy how you needed.” donghyuck is pressing his cock deeper than ever. his precum is staining your gummy walls, making them molded to his cock. his hands are still and tight against your hips. his groans and moans of your name are bound to his lips.

it’s what you needed.

it’s also what he needed.

once your orgasm nears, you grip onto the nape of his neck, “fuck— donghyuck— ‘m gonna cum— soon,” you exhale. “got you— i got you— c’mon cum over me, pretty,” he grunts out, also feeling his orgasm nearing the edge. in one snap, the two of you release on each other. you’re clenching around his cock as he spurts his cum deep. donghyuck slips himself out, watching how his cum is rolling out of your pussy and pooling at the sheets. he chuckles lightly before dropping by your side, taking you in as you slides his hands down your back.

he makes small faint circles at the small of your back when you’re taking a breather after your orgasm. when you finally calm down, hyuck asks, “got what you needed?” you sigh, “yes of course.” you’re feeling your eyelids go heavy after speaking. hyuck allows you to let them flutter closed before his faintly rests his chin on your head, “of course you did.”

when you wake up the morning after, you see how hyuck is scrolling on his phone, you ask the big question you've been meaning to ask. “oh yeah, what got into you last week?” hyuck drops his phone to your side table, “what do you mean?” you scrunch your brows at him, “the whole mental games thing with me? how’d you know i had a crush on you? thought i was discreet about it,” you slightly scoff. 

“you were. just decided to finally show you my crush on you.” 

snapping your head to finally face him, you nearly sputter, “what?!” hyuck laughs at your response, “it’s hard to naturally show a crush when we’ve been friends for a long ass time.” you click your tongue, “so instead of just asking me out, you just decided to start terrorizing me?” hyuck hums,

“i mean… you were hot on your knees and pleading of how you needed me!”

© KIREILIEN 2025 | please like, repost, and/or comment! ♡︎

[jessaerys]

heard ariana grande's side to side in public the other day which btw is an eight year old song. feel old yet. anyway nicki's bar "wrist icicle ride dick bicycle" keeps ricocheting in my brain like a cursed screensaver ever since. like i know what it means, right, it's two images: a diamond bracelet = riding dick, expensive gifts beget sexual enthusiasm. not a particularly original sentiment in the girlpower pop/rap genre. and yet it's like in the great library of babel minaj stumbled upon the single most sublimely succinct and uncanny way to express that idea if she were an alien or perhaps an ai pretending to be human. by which i do not mean it is bad, in fact far from it - the clever wordplay, the rhyming, the off-kilter syllable stress (wrist / i-ci-cle / ride / dick / bi-cy-cle) the way in which a complex societal idea is conveyed in two descriptive nouns. and yet it is truly skin-crawlingly unpleasant to hear: the kiki -cle and -r -i sounds incongruously intermingling with the bouba -b and -d sounds all coming together to create something akin to a symphony in a minor key, masterfully consonant but nonetheless intrinsically upsetting to some visceral part of the auditory branch of our neural networks (wait actually i just fact checked this and turns out the minor keys being innately evocative of negative emotion in humans is a misconception and it actually has more to do with cultural associations. but for the sake of this post let us move on) anyway and that's just on a strictly aural plane, without going into the -CHRIST i'm So stoned- into the gleefully, almost purposefully discordant images infused into words that are meant to be sexy. i'm talking about the principle of writing wherein a metaphor, albeit a metaphor, carries itself a nonfigurative image that must be wielded with awareness lest the nonfigurative image contravenes the mood one attempts to convey. by which i mean, you can't write, "the pie was pleasantly warm like that first morning piss" well i mean, yes, you can, but the actual evocative impetus on the literal image inside the metaphor does distract one from the idea of a pleasant pie if that is what one is trying to get at, edgy narrators and piss kink georges nonwithstanding

[chaeul]

Spoilers for the TBNW boxset - be warned/welcome ♥

Hooh boy, strap in guys! Watch me fall apart as I gently take apart and violently scream about the extended tbnw ep10 nc scene (be prepared for lots of parentheses because I have a lot to say and a very hard time putting my thoughts in a sensible order ✌🏼)

“Sex scenes are unnecessary and don’t add anything to the plot, they’re just porn and don’t have any artistic value”- PLEASE, have you seen the way Boss and Noeul do nc scenes??? I have been rewatching and losing my shit for hours, screaming at the partner in crime because these two make me feel so unwell.

Okay, first of all - This is everything to me.

Phu looking down as Cir tilts his head back even more (a beautiful look on Boss, if I may add). 

I mean, FUCK, the boy has had to guard himself behind an icy cold wall his whole life; can you imagine how freeing it must be to feel so safe he dares to lay himself totally bare? Letting himself be vulnerable, baring his neck and making himself small, kneeling by the feet of his savior (because let’s be real, that’s who Phu is to him), looking up at his everything with pure devotion like he’s worshipping him (because he is 😭).

It’s just a short shared gaze but it’s so meaningful *whines and grabs my emotional support patch of grass*

Listen, I love sex, I really do, and there’s no shame in it. But this is what really gives me a boner: the emotional desire, the intensity. The feelings and intentions are so important. And Boss and Noeul are absolute Kings at it (I can practically hear the partner in crime echoing “Emperors, kings, gods, legends!”)

Every time I rewatch this scene I have to pause here to catch my breath because I get so overwhelmed that my heart feels like it’s gonna leap out of my chest. I’m really giving it my best here, but I feel like no matter what I say, I can’t properly convey with words how this shared gaze makes me feel.

Phew, let’s take a lil breather together, shall we? In- - - and Out - - -

Which brings me to my next point: Moaning.

And not just Phu’s alluring siren call of a moan (we can all hear him loud and clear, thanks and blessings to Mame for finally allowing Noeul to let it all out after holding him back during lita filming), no I’m mainly talking about Cir!

Phu pulls a lot of the attention due to the volume and disinhibition in his voice but if you listen closely, Cir is right there with him with a velvety warm hum, a few groans, sometimes even just an audible breath. He’s way softer but it is audible how much he’s enjoying this; from their simultaneous penetration moans all the way to the grand finale and their shuddering breaths (okay, mostly Phu’s, thank you once again Noeul) as they ride out the high with clasped hands.

Another thing that didn’t go unnoticed was the multiple instances where Phu moans and Cir joins in, just slightly delayed. 

As if he’s groaning in reply.

As if Phu’s sighs drive him to exclaim as well, unable to stop himself.

Because hearing how good he’s making Phu feel is Cir’s ultimate pleasure (Cir’s auralism confirmed once again, if anyone’s still not convinced, heh). 

Gosh, this puppydog of a man lives and loves to serve Phu, in the streets and in the sheets!

And then there’s the hand on Phu’s neck

Yes, choking kink ✅ We all love it! (Although it looks to me like he’s merely cradling Phu's neck- but the image is beautiful, we are truly blessed.) 

Yes, Phu’s adam’s apple seems to be a very sensitive spot and Cir knows and loves it.

But what if it wasn’t (just) that? And here’s where I bring it right back to moans and by extension (some might say a long stretch) Cir’s auralism.

(Well, given that Cir currently has dick so far down his own throat that he could nuzzle Phu’s lower abs with his nose) one might argue Cir settles for Phu’s neck, his fingers not quite reaching far enough, unable to slide past Phu’s lips (the endgame once again being loud and clear moans; Phu sucking on them like a man parched is but the icing on the cake), but!-

His throat is where Phu produces those addictive moans that Cir just can’t get enough of. Maybe that’s why he constantly kisses, bites, licks, and in this case places his palm against it- so that in addition to hearing Phu’s moans he can feel them vibrating against his skin. 

Auralism plus, I think I might call it? idk

There’s so much more but my brain is mush by now so, uhm, where was I? 

Ah, yes! The beauty of Boss and Noeul’s nc scenes!

Listennnn these two are so hard working, emotionally intelligent and in sync with their characters and each other, especially in nc scenes - where are the awards for these two???

Nobody can tell me ever again that scenes like these can’t hold merit or artistic value.

Fuck that!

Yes, some works may have the audacity to call dry humping with no emotional depth a love scene. But then there’s Boss and Noeul, telling their story by acting out the most delicate details with almost atom level precision and some people call it porn (derogatory) ?🤯

Like so many things in life, sex has the potential to be beautiful and joyful and fucking hell, I see the beauty in this and I enjoy the fuck outta this. Art is supposed to make you feel things, right?

This makes me feel things! Many! (And yes, being horny is among those feelings and that is okay)

Anyway, love is beautiful and deserves to be portrayed in all its depth and variety, Happy Pride!!! 🌈

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Shape Poem

Shape poem - (or concrete poem) an arrangement of words on a page into shapes or patterns that reveal an image, such as in a calligram.

These visual poems are an artistic blend of the literary and the visual arts.

Readers experience a shape poem via its words, typography, and the visual representation of the poem’s subject.

In this type of visual poetry, the meaning of the poem is enhanced by the shape of the poem itself, rather than the actual words used.

How to Write a Shape Poem

Creating your own shape poem can be a fun writing exercise for poets that only requires a few preliminary steps. A step-by-step guide:

Read other shape poems for inspiration. Start by reading examples of shape poetry for inspiration. Studying how other authors have used the form can spark some inspiration on how to construct your shape poem. It might even help you figure out what you want to write about.

Decide what your poem is about. Before you start writing or planning the shape of your poem, you want to decide what it is about. Deciding on the subject matter of your poem before you plan its shape will help you pick the most relevant shape.

Pick the shape for your poem. Brainstorm a few idea shapes before you start writing, and pick shapes that are familiar and recognizable, like a bird, a car, or a balloon. The shape you pick will have to be created with text, so make sure it’s something easily created and identifiable.

Outline the form of your poem. Once you’ve selected your image, sketch it out on a sheet of paper. The sketch will act as your guide in choosing where certain words should go to create the outline of your selected image. You can lightly pencil in some words to test out how they will look within the given structure.

Write your poem. Now that you’ve planned out the shape of your poem, you are ready to fill it with text. You may need to keep your words brief to fit into the shape of your poem. Use evocative imagery and language that speaks to your readers’ senses. It is also helpful to choose a few words that are related to your poem’s physical shape to help guide your writing process.

Fill the shape in with the text. As with “Swan and Shadow,” you can write a story that gives your image a narrative. Or, you can choose a series of letters and words that repeat to flesh out your picture, such as with “Apfel.” The poetry itself can be free verse or blank verse, or if you’re feeling extra creative you can try rhyming your stanzas.

The Origins of Shape Poems

Shape poems have been around for centuries and are often used in creative writing exercises. Below is a brief history of the shape (or concrete) poem.

Ancient letter arrangements: Shape poems were already a popular literary form in Ancient Greece as early as 2 BC. Scribes would often use the shape of the text itself to bring more meaning into these types of poems.

Early pattern poetry in the early twentieth century: The American poet E. E. Cummings and the French poet Guillaume Apollinaire wrote pattern poems in the first half of the twentieth century, spacing out and styling words on the page for poetic expression. These poets rose to prominence before the concrete poetry movement formally entered the mainstream.

Mid-twentieth century: While the art form has a long history, concrete poetry has only been a widely-shared term since the mid-twentieth century. Poetry as a form was evolving; Dada artists explored sound poetry, introducing new, aural ways to experience poems, primarily via performances that blended music and text.

Development as a visual art form: In 1950s Brazil, writers affiliated with the São Paulo magazine Noigandres experimented with visualizing words on a page. Members of the Noigandres group—including Brazilian writers Augusto de Campos, Décio Pignatari, and Haroldo de Campos—showed their work at an art exhibit. These avant-garde artists carved a new path, blazing a trail for an art movement that was also a literary movement.

Anthology: This artistic medium flourished throughout the twentieth century. In 1968, Mary Ellen Solt published Concrete Poetry: A World View, a definitive collection of the concrete poetry movement.

Examples of Shape Poem

“40 Love”: This concrete poem by Roger McGough is a narrative about a couple playing tennis. The text is divided down the middle, representing the net that separates them while they play, and will also be present when they’re home.

“Apfel”: Written by German writer and scholar Reinhard Döhl (and titled the German word for “apple”), this poem consists of only the word “Apfel” repeated enough times to form the shape of an apple.

“Easter Wings”: The Welsh poet George Herbert created “Easter Wings,” one of the most famous examples of concrete poetry. “Easter Wings” was originally printed sideways—with words not running left to right but up to down—so that readers had to turn the book 90 degrees to read the work. The piece, a religious meditation on Jesus’ atonement, comprises two stanzas that resemble two pairs of angels’ wings.

“Ho/Horizon/On”: Ian Hamilton Finlay published his first collection of concrete poetry, Rapal, in 1963. In “Ho/Horizon/On,” this Scottish poet uses a combination of the words “ho,” “horizon,” and “on” to create a triangular image with a small gap in the bottom center of the concrete poem. The gap could be interpreted as the sun, sitting on the horizon with all the letters above it acting as the illuminated sky.

“Lazy Jane”: Penned and illustrated by Shel Silverstein, this poem features a young girl lying on the ground waiting for water, while the poetry trickles down like a stream above her.

“The Mouse’s Tale.”: In his 1865 novel Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll created a shape poem known as “The Mouse’s Tale.” The poem described a mouse’s tale while also being shaped like a curving mouse’s tail.

“Silencio”: Eugen Gomringer’s “Silencio” shows the title word printed fourteen times to form a box with a hole in the middle, in which another instance of “silencio” would fit. In that hole, the Bavarian-born German poet seems to be showing a visual form of silence.

“Swan and Shadow”: John Hollander’s well-known poem features the figure of a swan made entirely out of text with the reflection of the swan, also written in text, mirrored beneath.

“Uplifting”: Written by Robert Yehling, this concrete poem also functions as an acrostic verse, as the first letter of each line spells out the word “uplifting,” while visually representing the verb through matching text.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[becomingmina]

YOU, YOU SILLY. w/ BANG CHAN.

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: bang chan x female reader genre + warnings: established realtionship, smut mdni!, auralism, unprotected sex, y/n is a little shy, members mentioned wc: 2.7k mina's note: this is my first ever smut, i hope you enjoy <3

series chapter ➵ part two

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

Chan is obsessed with your voice, and he knows he has a voice kink.

He knew it the first time you guys had sex and you were begging him to let you come. He keeps playing back the sounds you made in his head – a range of high and low moans, the whining, all the breathy groans and whimpers. He can still remember the image too, of you all naked, tits bouncing, cheeks blushed a shade of dark pink - falling apart underneath him as he thrusted into you. Your eyes were shut tightly but your pretty little mouth was open letting all your moans fall - not even trying to conceal any bit of it.

He finds it extremely hot how loud you get can when you guys fuck at his dorm. It’s a little ego boost knowing his members can hear what’s happening in his room. He sometimes even gets riled up to the thought of them purposely listening to how you are in bed. Surely his members don’t listen right, or do they? Well, Chan noticed all the time Hyunjin’s face and ears was red when he goes out straight to the living room - after ruining you - to discuss what’s for dinner. He couldn’t forget the time Han was flustered when he jokingly asked if he was listening to you guys fucked from the living room. And that one time Changbin was frozen in his track just staring at Chan was digging through the fridge to find a cold bottle of water to give you after your mouth becomes dry from all the screaming. His members don’t listen to you right? And that’s not another one of his kink, right?

Chan realised how much of an animal he can be when it came to you. You were his sweet little innocent girlfriend who could barely keep up with him. Your mind always in its own little world. You would definitely get super embarrassed and probably conceals all your noises from then on if he ever admitted that he loves how vocal you are.  

Which is why he’s keeping quiet in this situation.  

The two of you were winding down from your busy Friday – your 9-5 wasn’t too bad and Chan’s day at the dance studio with the boys actually went smoothly. You and Chan loved to lay in bed staring at the ceiling talking about everything and anything. It was then that the topic of kinks came up that you confessed to Chan that you can get off to just kissing him. Of course, he didn’t let it go teasing you with kisses all over your face and skin.

“Okay tell me yours,” you asked as you climb on top of your boyfriend cupping his cheeks with your tiny hands. Your legs tangled with his as you try your best to get as close to him as possible.

He just chuckles snaking one arm to your waist as he rested the other underneath his head.

“Please tell me. I already told you mine,” you whined but instead of answering you, he pulls into a kiss. Your lips stay attached for a while - in hopes that it can redirect your attention to something else, but you pulled back first. Something you would never ever do. 

“Oh, I thought you loved kissing me, why did you pull away first?” he teased.

“Chan, please tell me or else I’m going to be sad forever,” You whined.  

“Give me another kiss first,” he demanded, and you comply - lips finding his again but this time he locked his hand around your neck forcing you there. You try to pull away to get his answer but the way his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, you had to – you had to grant him entry because you loved the way he kisses you.

As Chan continues to tongue fuck your mouth, his hands found their way under your skirt to give your ass a slap earning a muffled moan from you. His smirk is pressed against your lips as his he rubs over the area in attempt to soothe it. The tingling feeling between your thighs begins to rise and you desperately grind down on him, his growing dick hitting your clothed clit. You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan.

This flipped something in Chan and somehow your positions are now swapped - you on your back with your hands pinned above you head.

“Fuck baby, you drive me crazy,” he hiked your skirt up and moved your panties to the side before sliding finger through your already dripping cunt.  

“You’re so wet already and just from kissing? You were right, maybe you can cum from just kissing me right, angel?” he teased. His fingers glides through your folds smearing your arousal around before making his way to rub circles on your clit. It had your head spinning – you needed more.

“Mhmm, please Chan, I need you,” you bite down on your bottom lip but not hard enough to try to hide your whimpers.

“What do you want?” Chan asks watching you start squirm and break from his grip under him.  

“Need your cock please... inside me,” you answered pushing your hips up onto his hand trying to stimulate your clit even more. He immediately let go of your hands and got off the bed to take off his sweatpants, following by removing his shirt. You also took that time to strip yourself off your own clothes - leaving you all bare. Leaning back on one arm with your legs bend at the knees, your glistening cunt on display for him. Your other hand desperately comes in contact with your boobs, groping and pinching it. You look up at him observing his toned chest before darting your eyes to what you craved the most - his big dick. You noticed the outline of it straining against his tight boxer, begging to be freed. His bottom lip caught between his lips as he watches at the slight of you all horny and already fucked out.

“Can I see it please baby?” You asked politely, never failing announce what you want.

“Because you ask so nicely angel,” He took off his boxer and his dick sprung up slapping against his abdomen. Chan’s big cock never fails to surprise you. No matter how many times you saw, taste or touch it you can’t help but whimper over it. The pretty veins, the grith, the length, the colour. It was so mouth-watering.

Pre cum already coating his tip as you notice a line of it dripping down his shaft. He gripped his base, shutting his eyes trying not to cum there to the sight of you and the noises you were making.

“Chris.” you pleaded, and his eyes opened as he begins to pump himself a couple of times before pushing you on your back again. He hovered over you and placed a kiss to your forehead which resulted in you pulling him closer to you by the back of his neck. Just as you were about to press a kiss onto his lips, he slightly moved his head back causing you to cry.

“Ah why?”.

He didn’t mean to avoid your kiss, he loves it, but he wanted to tease you again just to hear your pretty voice.

Chan brings his hands are back down to your clit slapping it before he danced his fingers to your folds again gathering the juices and lifting his fingers to his mouth. His eyes rolled back at the taste of you.

“Mhmm.. you taste so good. You’re so dirty, my pretty girl. Making me go a little dumb,” he groaned.  

He finally lingers over you and positioned himself to your entrance. Normally he kisses you when he pushes himself in. It was something you guys found romantic at the early stages of your relationship, and he decided it was going to be an everyday thing as you were always so bubbly about it. But tonight, he just looked at you and waited. Truth, was he wanted to tease you more, see how whiny you can get just to get riled up by it.

You were too horny and wanted to feel him when you took the initiative to ask him.

“Can you kiss me plea-!!” You let out the loudest pornographic moan as you were caught off guard when your boyfriend snaps his hips into yours. The sudden stretch had your eyes filling with tears. You were feeling lightheaded and already drunk - mumbles of Chris and please leaves your mouth. He waited a few seconds for you to adjust before pulling out and pushing back in your hole harder. Chan needed more – he shifts his position, pulling both your legs to wrap around him in order to penetrate you more. The angle hitting you deeper and hitting you g-spot each time he slams into you. He wanted to see how fast you are falling underneath him but the lewd noises from our mouth along with the way his dick is getting sucked in by your wet cunt is already bringing him to the edge. Shutting his eyes was the only thing keeping him from cumming before you.

“Baby, you’re so tight. It feels so good,” He moaned.

“I’m close,” he admitted, and you also feel yourself reaching your orgasm. You start to clench around him, your hands finding their way to his grip his shoulders pulling him down. You wanted to kiss him while you cum.

“Baby I’m going to cum, kiss me please?” you pleaded big doe eyes filled with tears looking up at him.

“I can’t,” he confessed, and you furrowed your brows in surprised.

“Why?” You cried. He buried his head in your neck as one of his hand slips in between your bodies.

“I want to kiss-“ His fingers latched onto your small bundle of nerves and as begins to rub circles. The contact enough to make you release a high pitched yelp straight into his ears as you squeezed around him - your orgasm showers over you. Chan still eager to permanently record all your pretty moans in his head, he keeps rocking in and out of you, finger still rubbing your swollen clit.

“Baby, can you moan like that for me again,” he confessed in your ears, and you obey, screaming from the overstimulation as you hold onto his head keeping his ear close to your mouth.

“Y/N, I’m cumm-” your cries send Chan into his orgasm as he shoots his hot white seeds right into you. His eyes shut tightly, teeth latching on onto your neck slightly applying pressure and he bits you. You begin to go numb, almost passing out. Your hands slowly letting go of the grip around his head and your eyes start to roll back only ever showing the whites as your let go of another orgasm squeezing out of all his milk.

He finally slows down and halts his fingers as he drops his full body weight on you, his dick softening inside you. Your eyes are shut now, his weight somehow calming you down from your high.

You both stay like this for a few moments catching your breath before Chan’s pulls himself out and rolls over on his back. He moves you on top of him your head laying on his chest and he drapes your right arm over his body. He knows you’re too wrecked and tried to do anything. He presses a kiss on your temple before caressing your side.

“Your pretty voice,” he whispered.  

“Hmmm?” You look up to make eye contact with him, brows furrowed before you look from side to side to show case your uncertainty. He just chuckles at your cute reaction of not knowing what he was getting at.

“My kink was your voice baby. I go crazy over the pretty noises you make. The moans, the whimpers, screams, sighs. You never fail to announce what you want, it’s so sexy. All the begging and whining, it makes me go feral,” Chan admitted.

“Why didn’t you just tell me before?” you look up in confusion to ask him.

“I was afraid you might get shy or even embarrassed and stop. Scared you are going to hide them,” Chan’s hand never stops touching you. He wanted to keep you as close as possible afraid of you might pull way to find him weird.

“I would never,” you reassured him. Your arm that was draped his body him made its way up to his cheeks. You pull him towards you to place a kiss on his lips.

“Just like the way you keep kissing me, I’ll keep making pretty noises for you,” you smiled, and he followed with a satisfied chuckle.

He brings you closer into a kiss - allowing you to make out with him and swallow him for as long as you like knowing that’s what you’ve been craving.

“Wait, Chris,” you said amongst the kisses, and he had to pull back to hum at you.

“Wait, how come you didn’t kiss me when I asked you to before. You said you can’t. Chan, that was mean. you’re mean.” you complained brows raising up and down. You only remembered his actions now as you sobered up from his dick.

He cuts you off with a loud laugh knowing how innocent and seriously confused you are at the moment. You have let to caught up with him once again.

“Y/N you, you silly,” he chuckles.

“I couldn’t kiss you because I wanted to hear your voice,” he tells you.

You were quick to bury you face into his chest.

“Okay, now I get it. I’m embarrassed,” you mumbled onto him. He looks down the shakes his head smiling to himself.

“What’s for dinner, Hyunjin?” Chan asks as he walks into the living room.

The 3 boys were all spread out across the living room. Han sitting on his knees on the ground focusing on the television which is muted and on some random kids show. Changbin has a blanket over him as his eyes are glued to his fingers toying with the air conditioner remote. Hyunjin is on the far end of the couch, cheeks bright red as he randomly scrolls through his phone checking his calculator history. His visible boner straining from his grey sweats as he mumble a “let me see what they have on the menu” at Chan.

Chan lets out a laugh clearly seeing how riled they are from your lovely noises.  

“Y/N, what do you want for dinner?” Chan sweetly calls out to you.

You jumped off the bed pulling out one of Chan’s t shirt and shorts from the draws to chuck on before going out to meet the others.

“Hmm?” you walk up to your boyfriend pulling wrapping your arm around his naked torso, unaware of how the other 3 boys literally scramble their head to avoid you.

“Go choose something to eat on Hyunjin’s phone,” Chan coos at you and you skipped over Hyunjin settling down by his side.

“Hyunjin, can I see what’s the options please,” You lean closer to him to look at his phone, but Hyunjin moves away from you a little. Unaware that he wanted to avoid you, you keep moving closer to him whining whenever you have to keep scooting. It was a few moments then that you noticed how shaky his hands were and that he didn’t even have the ordering app pulled up on his screen. You flick your eyes around accidentally landing on his sweatpants. That’s when you noticed something was twitching in his groin area - making you jump back a bit but you brushed it off as you didn’t want to embarrass him. You sat there in silence, a little bit awkward, for a few seconds before looking up at him, locking eyes, yours pouring into his as you hummed a “Hmm?”

You then hear his breathing get louder and higher than finally catching onto his red cheeks and ear. You were afraid he coming down with something as he is quieter than usual.

“Hyunjin? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You asked innocently at him.

“You, you silly,” Chan laughs.

[noosphe-re]

In order to explain in a few words, and without recourse to specialized linguistic knowledge, the specific nature of the Arabic language, let us first of all recall that every language has at its beginnings two poles, as it were, one of which comes to predominate without excluding the other. These two poles can be described by the terms "auditive intuition" and "imaginative intuition". Auditive intuition essentially identifies the meaning of a word with its quality as sound; this presents itself as the development of a simple phonetic formula which expresses a fundamental action such as "to unite", "to separate", "to penetrate", "to emerge", and so on, with all the physical, psychological, and intellectual polyvalence of which a type-action of this kind is capable. This has, moreover, nothing to do with semantic convention or onomatopoeia; the identification of sound and act is immediate and spontaneous, and in this regard, speech conceives everything it names as being basically an act or as the object of an act. Imaginative intuition, on the contrary, manifests itself in speech by the semantic associations of analogous images; every word pronounced evokes inwardly a corresponding image, which calls up other images, with the type-images dominating the more particular ones, according to a hierarchy that stamps itself, in its turn, on the structure of speech. The Latin languages are examples of this latter type, whereas Arabic discloses an almost untrammeled auditive intuition or phonetic logic, in which the identity of sound and act, as well as the primacy of action, are affirmed across the entire rich tissue of this language. In principle, every Arabic word is derived from a verb consisting of three invariable consonants, something like an aural ideogram, from which are derived as many as twelve different verbal modes—simple, causative, intensive, reciprocal, and so on—and each of these modes produces in its turn a plethora of nouns and adjectives whose first meaning is always linked, in a more or less direct way, to that of the fundamental action depicted by the trilateral root of the entire verbal "tree".

Titus Burckhardt, Art of Islam: Language and Meaning

[esocherryk]

We all possess an innate longing to express our inner worlds, an impulse that mirrors the very act of creation. To translate what resides within us into the tangible is not merely a pursuit but a profound source of pleasure and purpose. Yet, the road to realization is often slow and demanding. Take the art of drawing, for example. To externalize the contours of one’s mind onto paper with precision demands years of persistent refinement. The challenge stems from a dissonance within: though we remain attuned to our inner landscapes, the question lingers, do these visions find harmony with the external world? When this alignment occurs, it grants us the power to manifest with clarity.

The distance between what we envision and what we live becomes the measure of our existence. How close is your vision of life to what you actually experience? To bridge this divide, one might deliberately choose a skill, an endeavor in which proficiency is minimal or absent, to cultivate this alignment. Consider drawing. Begin with a simple scene. Hold it in the mind until it emerges as a clear, unwavering image. This, too, is no easy feat: simplicity itself can be elusive. Yet, within the struggle lies the seed of mastery.

Once the mental image is set, begin the task of externalizing it. Select your tools with care, considering what will best serve the image’s birth. Whether a pencil or a pen, each choice carries its own nuance. The initial attempts will likely invite frustration. But this frustration is essential: it tests our focus and hones our resilience. Here, the artist begins their true training.

In this quest to bridge the inner with the outer, the cultivation of physical control becomes a vital practice. While there are many ways to refine this connection, dance and singing stand apart as disciplines that bind the mind’s intentions with the body’s expression.

Dance compels us to inhabit our bodies fully, to cultivate coordination, flexibility, and presence. Every motion demands a nuanced awareness, each breath becomes part of the choreography. Over time, dancers discover their bodies as instruments for thought and emotion, extending this control beyond the studio into the subtle rhythms of daily life.

Similarly, in singing, the voice becomes the echo of the soul. To sing is to unite breath and intention, to allow the body to become a vessel for sound and meaning. Vocal training reveals how thought shapes tone, how emotion guides melody. As singers refine their practice, they learn to render the internal into aural form with clarity and power.

Both dance and singing share the same aim: to synchronize mind and body so completely that the boundary between them dissolves. In the process, the artist becomes a visionary, one who wields their body as a bridge between the formless and the manifest. Each step, each note, affirms the boundlessness of this endeavor.

Yet, it need not be dance or song. Any skill you choose can become the crucible for this lesson. In turning your visions into form, you enter the quiet alchemy of creation.

[lonelyasawhisper]

Queen: A Night At The Garden

Kris Nicholson, Creem, 1st May 1977

Queen's music is like strong mouthwash. It takes my breath away but that initial rush is as temporary as it is abrupt. This probably has something to do with the discrepancy between what Queen is and what Queen would like to be. Queen IS a good studio band-cum-variety show with a flair for novelty, a patent on mock opera and Rock of Gibraltar guitar harmonies. What they would like to be is a good studio band and a great live act. Unfortunately they've mastered a studio perfection that does not lend itself to accurate live interpretation. Whether or not they choose to approach the two mediums separately, the fact remains: kids are amazed at Queen records and they expect to be doubly amazed by their concerts.

If Queen—without the assistance of tapes—could reproduce their studio sound live, they'd certainly be one of the most impressive bands on the rock scene. But they can't and they aren't and it's the vocals that cause most of the problem. They'd need at least five Freddie Mercurys [Aaargh!—Ed.] to do it right. (Imagine Mercury quints; five golden-throated, leotarded, stiffly posed fools.) If only Freddie Mercury could sing two notes at a time!

There is a gadget known as a harmonizer that provides a delayed echo and allows Freddie to harmonize with himself, but this effect has its limitations and is reserved for special occasions like "Killer Queen" and Freddie's spotlight solo in "White Man."

Lacking a consistently believable production of their music, the least Queen could do is compensate for aural imperfections with visual delights. Try as they might, their use of flash pots and strobe lights is old hat and the five basic postures in Freddie's crude ballet are amateur still life, pale in comparison to the volume and the ideas of the band's music.

Let us proceed to the actual scene of a Queen concert and see if we can discover just what keeps this band alive.

It is February 5th at Madison Square Garden. I see a sign bobbing and weaving through the upper aisles of the arena. At first it looks like it's moving of its own free will and then two heads become visible at either end of the banner. This is a familiar one. In three-foot high letters it boasts, "Queen is King." Behind and way above me, up in those seats in the clouds, (that us rock writers never get stuck in) there are two more signs held by fans. They read: "Queen A Night At The Garden" and "Queen Takes My Breath Away."

I wonder how many of these kids have seen Queen before. Will they be disappointed? Darkness sets in. The PA system blasts solo piano recital music that eventually fades into a tape of one of those majestic guitar intros Brian May likes to embroider around the beginning of his songs. The first chords of "Tie Your Mother Down," hit like thunder, maybe even induce butterflies in the stomach, temporarily.

The image of Freddie Mercury strikes. Decked in some kind of baggy white karate jump suit the singer looks sexier than he ever did in those ridiculous striped suspender shorts. For a moment Freddie has me believing that he's cut his overbearing physical exposure from the act. But by the third song he's stripped down to a second skin of white, commonly known as leotards. In Freddie's case they're pain in the ass leotards. Every five minutes he becomes distracted as a leotard strap shimmies down his shoulder. He searches for a moment when he can inconspicuously slide it back up before the whole damn thing falls off. Unfortunately Freddie is not cool about it. By the end of the set I'm almost more intent on calculating the next time a strap will drop and how he'll get it back up, than I am on hearing the music.

Freddie is a strange cookie on stage. He waves his magic wand (actually it's a mike stand but you can use your imagination) and the flashpots explode. No big deal. Personally I think the Wizard of Oz had better flashpots and that movie was filmed decades ago. Freddie addresses the audience, "Listen my darlings, let me do the talking for a change." Yecch! Too coy. I don't believe him.

"Somebody To Love" comes early in the set. This is what is called strategy. It comes early in the set because it's impossible to do justice to in concert. If everything else goes right, by the end of the show the kids will have forgotten how punchless the live version is in comparison to the lush production that stole thousands of AM hearts.

Deep down, underneath the black nail polish, there is some talent.

Besides Freddie, the only really visible member of Queen is Brian May. May is the exact opposite of Mercury— a real Yin-Yang combination. In the words of Chuan Tzu, "The perfect negative principle is majestically passive (May). The perfect positive (Mercury) is powerfully active...the interaction of the two results is that harmony by which all things are produced." Somehow it DOES work.

Wanna puck? Monreal Mercurys owner displays the franchise's new uniform. (Note the hand-tailored sleeves and custom-fitted mouthpiece).

May appears silent and serious. He plays guitar as if he were studying constellations. There is nothing silly about him. Even the starch in his Elizabethan white shirt fits. He looks elegant, contemplative, (a misplaced 18th century poet?) and yet he plays with all the erotic energy and guts of the heaviest and dirtiest of rock 'n' rollers. You could say he doesn't look like he sounds. But this inconsistency serves to make his character all the more enchanting.

During "Brighton Rock" Brian takes a long solo. With the use of two echoplex systems he manages to produce the sound of three guitars. It's a well-crafted solo with lots of showmanship and lots of clean, thoughtfully executed riffs. He hardly moves while he's playing. All the energy is flowing from head to fingers. It's one of the few moments in Queen's set where nothing threatens to cancel out the emotion of his playing. Looking back on this a moment later, it's easy to understand what Brian has in mind when he says, "I want to be good in the sense of being more expressive."

Queen dares to attempt May's Mccartneyish " '39." It doesn't fare too well. Freddie sings it. Freddie sings all the songs. Funny, on the record Brian sings " '39." Maybe he feels that singing would be too much of a diversion while he's playing guitar.

In introducing "You Take My Breath Away," Freddie announces, "Maybe next time we'll come back with an orchestra." (While he's at it I hope he remembers to bring a choir, too.) Freddie adds, "You are what we call our sophisticated rock audience." Is he laughing because he knows it's a joke or is he uneasy because that's what he'd like to believe?

Imagine (Freddie) Mercury quints; five golden-throated leotarded, stiffly-posed fools.

Meanwhile the set has been embellished with intermittent gimmicks; a roadie hands a triangle to bassist John Deacon to hit one solitary note. What drama! Brian May plays a ukelele for five seconds during the band's instrumental version of "Bring Back Leroy Brown," etc. etc.

Freddie's vocal exhibition in "White Man" is impressive. He manages to sound like a voice and an instrument at the same time. It offers substantial evidence that deep down, underneath the black nail polish, there is some talent. Too bad he has to mask it in such demeaning external distractions as his unsteady Ian Anderson pose and his off-time dances to the music.

"Bohemian Rhapsody" is the evening's anti-climax. When the song reaches the really ornate vocal rounds Freddie disappears from the stage and all twenty thousand of us are left sitting in the dark. It's like faking an orgasm (need I say that the real thing is so much better?). Of course this maneuver is done so that Freddie can change his costume but it doesn't sit too well with me, not to mention the fifteen-year-olds behind me who think they're being ripped off. After all, they can hear the record at home. They want to see Queen do the humanly impossible, and when they're slipped a fast one they know it. "This is unforgivable," says one kid. "Yeah, they're gonna haveta do somethin' big to make up for that," his friend replies. Hear that, boys? You can't fool Mother Nature.

Freddie returns in black tights. He looks much better in black, especially now that he's got one of those real slick short hairstyles. White is too feminine. Again, strategy saves the day. The kids have been screaming for "Stone Cold Crazy" all night and now, when they're feeling cheated, "Stone Cold Crazy" will pacify them.

"Stone Cold Crazy" is perhaps one of the most breathless hard rockers that Queen does (on record) but somehow it loses its bite when a series of strobe lights begin to flash to the beat and eventually wind up totally off-beat, turning the frenzied effect into gaudy confusion.

Freddie dedicates "Keep Yourself Alive" to the audience. "Liar" is followed by "In The Lap Of The Gods." There are two encores, so l'm told. I didn't stay for them. I came to see if Brian May still knew what he was doing—I didn't need any more Mercury shenanigans.

We turn now to the scene of the post-Queen party. It's held at Oh Ho So in So Ho and it's so-so. Freddie is reputed to have a fascination for the Oriental and that's as good a reason as any to jam 500 press people into a 250 capacity restaurant. The food in this joint is really good, I come here all the time. But food is not what I'm interested in. Standing well over six-feet-tall, Brian May is easy enough to spot but he's busy holding court. I can barely justify barging in on the ladies in waiting, the men in waiting, the fans in waiting...later.

"Yeah, I know Frampton sold millions of records, but I don't think you can capture the whole thing outside of a studio."

In the meantime my friend Liz and I have decided that we're going to corner Freddie and ask him what brand nail polish he wears. She sees someone she knows who knows who we want to meet (Freddie) and she manages to get introduced while I play voyeur. Alas, the best-laid plans of mice and women... Freddie's nails aren't black or white. They're just old plain old fingernails. But, we do manage to find out that Freddie has been asked to pose with Mr. Pumping Iron himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Whether or not the event will take place is still a mystery. Freddie wasn't giving any clues.

Queen poses at left, shortly after Brian May's guitar mysteriously exploded sending slivers of wood and steel into the eyeballs of the rest of the group, causing temporary blindness. The matter is under investigation by Scotland Yard. Below, Roger: "Aye likes to put me boogies in me pant cuff 'cause it keeps 'em clean...Wot about it?"

Freddy: "Aye think ee wants one on 'is lens, eh?"

After at least an hour of anxious waiting for parking space beside Brian I finally score. Yes, he remembers doing the interview last year, but he says I look different. Yes, it must be the glasses. I don't have them on tonight. I'm blind as a bat but you know what they say about girls who wear glasses.

Pulling no punches; I explain to Brian that I'm doing a Queen story for America's Only Rock 'n' Roll Magazine. I am totally understanding as he apologizes, "We haven't been doing interviews 'cause we're so busy. We're playing all big concert halls and we're in a different city every night. We travel about five hours every day. It's just too hectic." If he wasn't such a nice guy I'd be saying, bullshit, everyone else does it, but he is SUCH a nice guy and I sympathize with every word he says. Two points for the power of smooth talking.

I proceed to find out that the next album will NOT be named after a Marx Brothers movie, that Groucho owns an official Queen II jacket and that Queen will be meeting him in L.A. Rock on Groucho!

On the subject of the band's incessant use of gimmickry, Brian comments, "A Day At the Races can be seen as an extension of A Night At the Opera". Though last year Brian's favorite album was Queen II, this year he professes to like A Day At The Races despite its similarities to Opera. He had once expressed discontent with Opera due to the switch of emphasis from guitar riff-based rockers to experiments with instruments like the Toy Koto, the genuine aloha ukelele and "Good Company's" guitar jazz band, not to mention Freddie's obsession for music in the movie musical genre.

A Day At The Races is the first self-produced Queen album. Previous albums had been stamped with both the band's name and that of Roy Thomas Baker—the man who served as scapegoat for numerous accusations regarding overproduction. A Day At The Races bears a pattern of excess remarkably similar to that of A Night At the Opera. Of producer Baker, Brian said: "We grew together and now we've got our own things to do. We always had a lot to say about the production anyway," he added, hinting at the possibility that Queen's vices have long since been self-inflicted.

Considering the vast amount of time and money spent on studio technique it is not surprising to discover that even before May had heard the influential playing of guitarists like Page and Hendrix, he was fascinated by Phil Spector's productions. "They were very emotional and very slushy," he explains with a gleam in his eye. Strange combination this romanticism, this background in astronomy, this technician who built his own guitar from the wood of an antique fireplace, this man whose songs are to him "very personal." Strange that all these experiences convene in one brain and come out with a split vote, half in favor of the schmaltzy sentimentality of numbers like the Beatle-ish "Long Away," the other half thrashing out in malevolent waves of heavy sound and male chauvinism, witness "Tie Your Mother Down."

Getting back to the matter of production. Brian recognizes the discrepancy between the live and studio version of a song like "Somebody To Love." It doesn't seem to bother him. Being dead set against the possibility of a live album, why should he worry as long as he's so busy filling big arenas that he doesn't have time to do interviews. Still, his heart is into making good studio recordings. "If we did a live album, it would have to be really good, but I can't imagine it. I think live albums are a cop out." He pauses and smiles, "Yeah, I know Frampton sold millions of records, but I don't think you can capture the whole thing outside of a studio." This was all said with a degree of sincerity that I'd like to believe but a conflicting report challenges his position. Reliable sources seem to believe that Queen is considering the possibility of recording live in Japan this summer with the able assistance of none other than Roy Thomas Baker.

So Queen and success have met. So far the two are getting along. A year ago Brian May proudly announced that the only tape the band used was "God Save The Queen" at the beginning and ending of concerts. "We don't like the idea of using tapes as backing tracks," he explained. Considering the role tapes play in their current show, suffice to say times have changed.

A year ago Brian believed there were things Queen could do in a small theatre that they could never do in Madison Square Garden. "When you start playing those places you have to change your whole act. A group can become like a picture in a frame. Communication in arenas is much more difficult and needs to be approached carefully." Now that Queen is playing only big arenas Brian expresses a feeling of comfort within the new atmosphere, explaining that the band feels geared towards it now. Queen certainly manages to fill large halls with sound but whether they know it or not, they've not mastered a way of filling their new frame with a coinciding picture.

It's deadline day and devoted soul that I am I've taken it upon myself to listen to all the Queen albums in order. The first two are a breeze, Queen bouncing from melodic early Yes style to heavy Led Zep riffing and then on to the sledgehammer stance of Deep Purple at their most menacing.

By Sheer Heart Attack the seeds of gimmickry are planted and they begin to grow like a small malignant cancer. Freddie Mercury has stopped singing about mercury and biblical references are less frequent. The band's image becomes less majestic, more decadent, killer Queen, and then a complete turnaround with A Night At The Opera wherein the boys abandon guts for cutesy cleverness. It is by this album that Queen have become definitely Queen. Maybe the novelty twist is their only surefire approach to originality: heavy metal novelty? A Day At the Races, as accounted for earlier, is more of the same as Opera.

I can still hear Brian talking about Jimi Hendrix with a sense of awe: "He was the man." At the same time the image of Freddie comes into view. He is posing for pictures. He keeps an eye on his reflection in the mirror. He primps his jet black hair and snickers in a barely audible but intentional tone, "Got to keep up the image." It's hard to imagine a more diverse marriage of ideas. It's transient, it's experimental and it's confusing as hell.

Ever since their 1973 debut I've followed Queen. I've reviewed every album with enthusiasm and then somehow forgotten them until the next release reminded me that I like the last one. I get all excited when a Queen record comes out, but it doesn't last. What's the answer? Staying power? Preservatives? It's driving me stone cold crazy.

Retrieved from The Creem Archive

[sugar-omi]

good lord I was trying to study but out of nowhere I know where🩸this came into my mind:

having a night in at ur grown up house w cove derek and baxter (only dating cove) and everyone gets wasted asf so they sleep over and late at night the other two can hear u and cove in ur bedroom 👀 ykwim?

the smut and angst potential of them getting off to listening to u two from their respective guest rooms and the irony of both ur guests doing it omggggggg 🫣

in the morning neither of them can properly look at u two out of shame and u and cove r just embarrassed cause u think it’s just cause they heard u (and ofc ur only half right)

these ideas fr come to me at the worst time lol

-🗑️

I AM SCREAMING. YOU'RE SO BRILLIANT I CAN'T.... derek would really try not to, but i feel like it'd end up seeping into his dreams and he just can't resist. and baxterrrr omg... he'd be so embarrassed n ashamed, i dont think he'd be able to sleep the rest of the night at all, even once you n cove are done... pls you sent this at the perfect time bc i was about to start writing n i cannot focus until i write this now, i must have this in a fic.. n ik it isn't what you're talking about, but this is also so good n i instantly thought abt this scenario. i will take ANY chance for derek n baxter to fall in love or into bed LOL

tags : NSFW, baxter x derek, one night stand (UNLESS), you and cove drink, auralism*, oral (derek receiving), top/dom baxter, bottom derek, derek has a crush on you/MC, baxter has a thing for both of you or maybe he's just a kinky bastard

*to be aroused by sound. (can be compared with voyeurism)

synopsis : baxter and derek are staying with you for an extended vacation (much needed for both of them.) and while you two have been considerate and lovely hosts, you're a bit loud... not that it's a problem. quite the opposite actually..

imagine baxter is pouring himself a glass of wine, unable to get your and cove's muffled moans out of his head.

he's generous with his pouring, since everyone already had a lot to drink during dinner, being reserved is unnecessary.

baxter tips back his cup, licking his lips, savoring the sweet taste of this wine, humming at the taste. not bad..

he's checking the label, wanting to remember the brand so he can add it to his shelves at home.

"oh."

baxter looks up, tired eyes wide at the sudden guest. he's met with derek's wide eyes, equally tired..

baxter gives a lopsided smile, trying to be friendly with his new friend. he gestures to the barstools across from him, "care to join me?"

derek rubs his neck shyly, "ah, i wouldn't want to impose. i just came for some water.."

baxter shakes his head, leaning back on the island, taking a sip of his wine. if he knew he'd have company, he wouldn't have poured so much at once.

he licks his lips, trying not to eye his glass to see if it looks like an reasonable amount of wine. trying to preserve his put together image is fruitless anyway, baxter is a hot mess walking and you could probably smell his issues all the way from france.

"nonsense, i wouldn't mind company. the best conversations are best shared under the stars, i'd say. although, i won't blame if you're going bak to bed." baxter laughs to himself humorlessly. "probably a better idea than getting drunk again."

derek laughs, "well, if you don't mind the company then.." and goes about grabbing some water before sitting across from baxter, trying to be quiet when he drags out the barstool.

there's a stretch of silence between them, the two of them sipping their drinks and baxter plays off his awkwardness by admiring the photo collage in the hallway, visible through the wide doorway.

baxter turns back to derek, who's holding his water with both hands, dozily looking into the glass. he looks up and is surprised to meet baxter's sharp gaze, but plays it off with a smile.

baxter speaks lazily, his movements languished and his bones heavy. he's feeling warm from the wine, and a bit chatty. "couldn't sleep either, huh?"

derek laughs, "that obvious?"

baxter shrugs, speaking around the lip of his wineglass. "i figured we're in the same boat."

derek stills, his cheeks slowly filling red, and he looks up, trying to figure out if he's trying to say he also heard you and cove doing... it. the other night.

baxter bounces his eyebrows, and that makes derek flush brightly, looking down. "y-yeah, i guess we are.."

he laughs, covering his mouth to muffle the noise.

derek seems to relax a bit at his amusement, and eventually they relax a bit more, and baxter goes on to tell derek more of his wedding horror stories when he asks.

they're laughing, trying to muffle the sound with their hands when they get too loud, and baxter is leaned over the counter, rambling to derek as softly as possible.

baxter signs and shakes his head, a smile still on his lips as he takes another sip. he's definitely getting buzzed again.

and at some point baxter even sits next to him and derek seems to greatly enjoy baxter's open laughter and his wide gestures as he narrates his stories, even throwing up his own chaotic stories about what it was like growing up with his brothers.

"hey.." derek calls, and baxter hums curiously in response. "does that taste good?"

baxter raises his brow but tips his glass towards derek. "it is. it has notes of peach and honey... wanna try?"

derek glances between baxter's eyes and the wine, nodding, taking the glass from his hands and taking a long sip...

baxter's eyes are stuck on derek's lips, his eyes following how his throat bobs when he swallows and his tongue dashes out to lick the wine running down the corner of his lips..

baxter snaps his eyes back towards derek's, who's already looking back at him.

the silence seems long, and the distance between derek and baxter's lips seems even longer, and he feels antsy even though they're both leaning in, their lips meeting in the middle in a soft kiss.

derek deepens the kiss, leaning into baxter, and humming into the kiss when baxter starts rubbing his thigh, his fingers sliding down th fabric of his sweatpants until he's touching his inner thigh, dangerously close to his bulge..

a moan echoes, and baxter and derek break apart, panting and their lips wet and swollen. then they hear it again, and some muffled talking.

they look into each others eyes, unable to move. they're both wide awake now, both because of that hot kiss and the sounds of cove's deep, and futile muffled moans.

their chests rise and fall, tension in the air, mingling with something else...

derek speaks first, taking baxter's hand before he can pull away. "do you... should we go to your room?"

baxter blinks owlishly, shocked and flustered. but really fucking turned on.

"yes, yeah, yeah okay.." he stumbles his words, totally knocked off his feet by the way derek looks at him, his green eyes deep with lust, and the whole turn of events.

derek leads him down the hall, and baxter is grateful he didn't somehow knock over the barstool or the flower vase in the hall.

they walk past your shared bedroom, baxter's designated room for his stay, at the end of the hall.

baxter tries to ignore the way his cock throb when he hears cove curse and growl, "fuck, you're so warm..." he tries not to think about it, but the idea of what you two are getting up to, how you both look and sound, what you're doing to each other...

he's trying not to let his mind run away with him but he's admittedly, a weak man. and so is derek, if the way he clutches his hand tighter and all but shoves baxter through the door and closes the door a bit louder than he should.

you and cove always drown out all other forms of life when you're together, and baxter doubts it's much different in the bedroom, if not "worse."

derek pushes baxter to sit on the bed, standing over him, his legs on either side of baxter's lap and he pulls off his shirt, throwing it on the floor.

baxter licks his lips, his hands sliding up derek's waist and stomach, his body thick and toned with muscles... "goddamn..." baxter exhales, all but drooling at the sight.

derek laughs shyly, lifting his arm to rub his neck (a nervous tick baxter has come to realize) and the muscles in his arm stretches and flex. baxter has a distant thought about derek being able to manhandle him...

"is this okay?" derek asks, suddenly shy now.

baxter nods, leaning in to kiss along derek's bronze stomach, his lips trailing down his happy trail to his bulge. "more than okay.."

baxter tugs on derek's sweatpants, looking up at him. "let me know if you want to stop..."

he tugs down derek's pants and underwear, letting his cock spring free. baxter strokes his cock to full mast, and derek holds onto baxter's hand for support, his other hand coming up to muffle his moan.

baxter wraps his lips around derek's flushed tip, sucking and circling his tongue over the head.

"b-baxter..." derek gasps, his thighs shaking.

baxter takes him deeper down his throat, keeping eye contact as he swallows around his cock, reaching down to palm his own bulge through his satin pajamas.

he groans, the vibrations sending shivers up derek's spine and derek mumbles, his fingers finding their way to baxter's hair, clinging onto the already messy locks.

baxter tears his hand away from his hard-on, to undo the buttons on his pajama shirt, the buttons slipping through his fingers until his shirt is wide open.

"mhm-!" baxter startles, gripping onto derek's thighs, his hips bucking up into his warm mouth.

derek moans shakily, "oh f- i'm sorry. sorry.." he babbles, pushing back baxter's fringe, his thighs twitching and his muscles clenching under baxter's hands.

baxter hums around derek's length, patting his thigh. his tongue drags along the underside of his cock, baxter's lips pulling off him with a pop, his lips wet and puffy.

baxter's sharp, lustful eyes meeting derek's equally horny gaze. derek's flushed cheeks are a feast for baxter's eyes, he can't wait to have him in bed..

"do you.. wanna go further?" baxter asks, his hand making obscene wet noises from all the pre-cum and spit, as he strokes derek's cock in his fist.

derek nods, his throat bobbing as he tries not to fall to his knees or cry out and alert you and cove to what they're doing in here.. "yes, please.."

baxter pulls away, standing up to tug off the rest of his clothes while derek tugs off his pants, almost tripping when the leg gets stuck on his ankle but baxter ignores it since he's not very elegant either, the wine still buzzing through him.

he throws his clothes on the floor, all but throwing himself into the bed with derek, straddling his lap as he captures his lips in a kiss, his tongue slipping past derek's lips, guiding his tongue to move with his own.

derek grips baxter's waist, his hands pulling him down to grind him into his lap, their cocks sliding together.

baxter breaks the kiss, his lips falling to derek's neck...

"cove- cove- cove!" your cry is heard through the wall, followed by muffled moans and whimpers.

"ah!" derek moans, his fingrs digging into the plush of baxter's hips when he bites down on his neck.

"oh- sorry. did i hurt you?" he worries, kissing the area soothingly. he didn't expect you to.. cry out so loudly. not that you aren't allowed to be loud in your own home, or anything like that. he just didn't think you'd sound so hot.

he's trying not to think about if he wishes it was his name on your lips, or what cove is doing to make you call his name so loudly and lewdly...

derek shakes his head, or tries too with baxter under his chin. "i mean, it hurt but.. it wasn't bad..." derek admits shyly.

baxter smiles, pulling off his neck to kiss his lips again, smiling too much to kiss properly but they have all night for that anyway...

he leans over the edge of the bed for his bag, fumbling through the open inner pocket for a condom and lube.

it's not that baxter planned to get laid on this trip, it's just bad to be unprepared.

"do you want to be on top?" baxter inquires, pointing the condom at derek.

he flushes, licking his lips and glancing off to the side. "um.. if you don't mind, you can be on top..."

baxter raises his brows, a blush high on his cheeks.

ohh derek really is interesting.

"not at all." baxter purrs, fixing their position so one of derek's legs is on his shoulder, and the other over his thigh.

he slowly sinks one, then two, then three digits into derek's hole, scissoring his fingers and rubbing derek's thigh soothingly. he's such a mess just from his fingers alone, derek's face half buried in the pillow and his hips bucking up and his thighs shaking.

"that's-" derek pants, swallowing thickly. "that's enough... put it in.. please..." he gasps, peeking at baxter through his lashes.

"fuck..." baxter curses, his stomach dipping with lust.

he fumbles, trying to open the condom but his fingers are covered in lube and he ends up ripping it with his teeth impatiently. baxter rolls it over his length, leaning over to pull derek into a kiss as he sinks into him.

"hmmn!" derek mewls into the kiss, his arms coming to lock around baxter's neck.

baxter slams his hips into derek, a loud slap sounding through the room from baxter's hips meeting his ass. baxter breaks the kiss, hissing.

that was definitely too loud, but it's also been so long since he's been with someone, and derek is so charming, that he's not sure he cares..

derek moans, trying to stifle it by biting his lips.

they pant, letting derek adjust to his length and for them to catch their breath, baxter feels like the air has been knocked out of him with how derek's hot walls are wrapped around him, his hole clenching and flutter around him, trying to take him deeper.

"mn, y/n-" cove voice is muffled, keeping them from hearing the rest of his sentence. although it was probably cut short, if the deep groan they hear through the wall is anything to go by.

baxter pants, "i'm.. i'mma start moving..." he gasps, moving so he's sitting up again, his hand pushing derek's knee up towards his chest.

derek covers his mouth with his hand, baxter's cock dragging so slowly against his walls, his eyes rolling and fluttering shut when his tip bumps against a sensitive spot in his walls, dangerously close to his prostate..

"harder!- ha- oh fuck!" you curse and moan unabashedly loud, followed by your bed frame thumping against the wall.

it quiets down to some creaking, with dull thumps every now and then.

baxter picks up the pace of his thrusts, spurred on by all your sounds from the other room and derek's lewd expressions.

derek whimpers, his moans and cries barely muffled by his hand and when baxter's hips slam into his repeatedly, he can't hold onto his barrage of moans and whines, babbling nonsense.

baxter leans over him, forcing his legs against his chest so he can whisper in derek's ear, stuffing his fingers down derek's throat, his middle and ring fingers pressing on his tongue.

"shh, darling. they'll hear us..." baxter purrs, although he laughs and nods his head to the side, "although, i think being quiet is a bit useless for all of us at this point."

derek whimpers around baxter's fingers, drool pooling in his mouth. he closes his lips around the digits and sucks, swallowing, dragging his tongue along baxter's fingers seductively..

"god." baxter grunts, his face scrunching up in pleasure.

his hips thrust up into derek's g-spot, his thrusts shallow as they both get closer and closer to finishing.

baxter pulls his fingers from derek's lips, a string of spit connecting derek's lips to the digits before it breaks, his hand slipping between their bodies to stroke derek's weeping cock, pre-cum pooling along the valley of his abs...

baxter captures derek in a sloppy kiss, neither of them really trying to hold back their sounds anymore. and from the sounds of it, you and cove aren't worried about being quiet either, your moans more frequent and totally unrestrained.

"i'm gonna-" derek pants, his nails dragging down baxter's shoulder.

"go ahead. cum. cum for me." baxter growls, his hand abusing derek's sensitive tip, making short strokes.

derek's legs shake on either side of him, his eyes rolling as he cums into baxter's hand. baxter groans, his hips stuttering as derek clenched around him, filling the condom.

they melt into each other, their chests rising and falling, and their heavy breathing match.

baxter turns his head to the side, seeing the sky turn from night to early morning..

"i'll.." he pants, pushing himself off derek's chest. "i'll run a bath... wanna join me?"

[buggy-samaaa]

Caught, part 15

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Word count: 406

Content: NSFW — mdni, gender neutral reader, no y/n, second person POV, voyeurism, anal, masturbation, misuse of devil’s fruit powers, man musk, pillow humping, auralism, degradation

Tag list: @hey-august, @bbnbhm, @genius---jester, @lostfirefly, @ane5e

——

Buggy wasn’t sure what his “O-face” looked like, but he’d be hard-pressed to believe your drawings were inaccurate.

His eyes traced and retraced the flurry of images, each of them more lewd than the last. You had only seen him from the back when you had walked in on him — it definitely couldn’t be explained away as recording an event in your journal. No, you were undeniably taking the time to imagine Buggy’s expression the moment he came. And you had decided to keep the pages.

Do you intend to revisit them?

Have you already?

Do you… touch yourself… while you look at… …him?

Buggy’s face was as red as his nose as he covered his mouth, breathing heavily and continuing to stare at the open book. He suddenly slapped it shut, clambered out of your hammock, replaced the sketchbook on its shelf, and rushed out of the crew’s quarters.

Buggy hobbled to his room and locked the door, then stripped his clothes and started the water in his shower. He leapt in before the water was even hot and grabbed his throbbing cock in his fist, pumping it furiously.

“Oh– oh, God,” he huffed, his eyebrows screwing up as he closed his eyes tightly. “Ohh, God, you fucking pervert,” he muttered with a trembling laugh that shifted into a moan. “Goddamn freak, drawing me like that… Fuck, you liked it, didn't you?” He grunted and changed from moving his hand to rutting into it, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “You fucking liked seeing me fuck myself, you dirty little–” Buggy cut himself off with another moan. He pressed his forehead against the wall of the shower as he fucked his fist, grunting with each sharp thrust. “Fuck, I want you so bad,” he said through another little laugh. “Want you— so—” Buggy groaned deep in his throat and held his fist in place as he came, then he slowly thrusted a few more times to release all he had.

He let out a long breath and relaxed entirely, then cleaned himself off, his body thrumming from his high. He closed his eyes and let the water run over him as he grinned widely, thinking of what this whole discovery meant regarding a potential relationship with you. Then his grin faltered as he gained some post-nut clarity.

There was no way to justify any sudden advances without admitting that he’d snooped in your sketch-journal.

Shit.

[storytimewithtibby]

warnings: masturbation, sex toy use, implied history of domestic abuse, roman sionis x fem!reader word count: 1572 work - a paraphilia a day

Auralism; arousal caused by sound. a/n the domestic abuse warning is for a line in the fic about wanting to get fucked instead of going to the ER for pissing him off. but pls know it's roman sionis. you push the wrong buttons that tempers goin o f f.

     He’d been very clear. Crystal clear, even. You’d been a little miffed that he’d had the audacity to say he used small words so you wouldn’t misunderstand. And that he’d broken his promise to take you out for a night on the town all because he had some issues that he needed to take care of that took precedence over painting the town red. 

     Image was very important to Roman, the appearance of control, crawling onto the bed after remaking it with the good sheets. The ones that rustled a bit if you moved too much, a wicked smirk on your lips as you fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. He’d left twenty minutes ago, your lips still tingling from the kiss he’d thought would ensure your behaviour. 

     So wrong, so very wrong. It had been weeks since the two of you had gone out. This wasn’t about money, he tossed gifts into your lap like it could make up for it. It wasn’t about the sweet treats he left for you to find in the fridge trying to sweeten the temper he’d stoked. He’d have to be blind not to realize even knowing his own temper, that you’d reached a boiling point. 

“We’ll go out tomorrow night, close down the lounge. Just you and me.’

     Except he’d said that yesterday, and a few days before that. Pulling open the nightstand drawer, you tugged the ostentatious box out and flicked open the lid. Well if he wasn’t going to show you a great time you’d just have to do it yourself, wouldn’t you? Letting him know that he wasn’t needed for that was just common courtesy, not throwing a gauntlet down, or trying to embarrass him in front of the boys. 

     Plucking the vibrator out like a rich widow choosing an expensive chocolate, you flicked open your text thread with him and clicked the small microphone to start recording. Speaker held close to your mouth you breathe, just a little heavy so it would catch it before clicking it on and holding your phone to it. 

     End. Send. Wait.

     Your heart fluttered a bit when your phone rang less than a minute later. Thought he was too busy? Apparently not, getting comfortable on the bed and listening to the way the sheets whispered as you did so. Letting it go to voicemail was audacious, you did not not answer his calls, eyes closing as you pictured him. He’d absolutely be standing in front of the window, phone held out in front of him, staring down at it with eyes narrowed behind the mask. 

     Another call, the phone insistently nudging at your hip as it vibrated and beeped. To answer or not to answer, fingers lightly skimming along your thigh as you thought it over. Oh no, it went to voicemail again… The fact you hadn’t started yet wasn’t the point, he thought you had. He thought that you were home alone having a very good time on your own. 

     Placing the phone on your sternum, you hummed as you tapped the voicemail. Had his attention if he’d left a voicemail, goosebumps on your skin trying to figure out if he’d gone straight to rabid dog, or was going to try that sickly sweet cajoling tone. 

Baby… I told you I was busy. His voice was low and tight, he was furious but couldn’t let the boys know his girl was riling him up. Bad for business. And you better not be doing what I think you’re doing. Not without me. I’m coming straight home once I get this wrapped up, and that bed better not have a single drop on it.

     Well you weren’t. Yet. Hips wiggling, already feeling the way his hands were going to grip, pull, he was going to be so mad. Sliding your hand down between your legs, you propped up your phone and took a picture. Not much to see, but it wasn’t about what he could see. It was what he couldn’t, it was the fact you looked like you were very much starting without him. 

     Soft blur filter. Send. 

     The phone immediately ringing again, staring at the photo you’d taken of him while he’d been working. When you’d been sitting pretty waiting for him to get done, and the lighting had been just right. A part of you really wanted to let it go to voicemail again, but there was a fine line between teasing Roman and pissing him off. A pissed off Roman had its benefits, but you wanted a good fucking to make up for the lack of personal attention, not an ER visit.

“Hello?’

     Like you didn’t know who was calling, you could almost hear his phone case creaking as his grip on it tightened. The way it wrapped around your neck and squeezed while you clenched around his cock and writhed beneath him. This wouldn’t be happening if he’d kept “baby” happy, now would it? Lightly twiddling your fingers along your labia, you could feel how wet you were, from an incredible amount of frustration. 

“The hell you think you’re doing?’ 

     The growl purred out of the phone, and you hated that you hadn’t thought of grabbing a pair of ear buds. But that also would have made the next step of the plan harder to accomplish, teasing yourself until your fingers were tacky with it, hearing the soft squelching noise and letting out a little whimper. You could be face down, ass up, railed by a crime lord right now, shamelessly panting before letting out a low moan as you clenched around nothing. 

“Jesus Christ… we are not doing this right now.’

     Play dumb, he hated that, setting the phone back down after putting it on speaker. Ribs was good enough for now, reaching for the vibrator and letting it pulse a few times right by the mic before pressing it lightly on your clitoral hood. No need to end the party right as it was getting started. 

“Doing what?’

     You’d bet the pretty gold and ivory choker he’d gotten for you that he was glaring as he tucked himself under his desk, couldn’t risk the boys seeing the boss rock hard like a teenage boy. Bad for the image, hips shifting as you played with the vibration settings. It was not a quiet toy, it wasn’t meant to be, if he’d been home he could have heard it clear to the kitchen and he’d have come running. But he was at work, and you felt neglected.

     The silence over the phone didn’t bother you, didn’t even need to check to see if he was still there. You knew he was. Listening intently, straining to catch every little noise, feeling each pulse of the vibration he heard like the kitten licks he liked along his cock when he was on a call. Just testing the waters, slowly sliding the toy lower to graze over your clit. 

     Pleasure, sharp, like you’d shocked yourself, letting out a yelp that wasn’t feigned as you lowered the intensity. Well it wasn’t your fault you were all worked up, you’d done your part. Wore his favourite outfits, leaned over just right when giving him his coffee in the morning. Sat on his lap in a low cut number that showed off more than it hid. And you’d been rewarded with what? Orgasms, yes. But they’d been scraps compared to the way you could have been fucked. 

“I am trying to wrap this up as soon as I can.’ Oh? He’d managed to pull back a bit, trying to act like he wasn’t currently hard as his mahogany desk. “You have my most solemn word, baby. I promise when I get home you’ll get what’s coming to you.’

“You’re going to cum on me?’ Voice breathy, arching your back feeling the phone slide down in starts and stops as the case tried to stick to your skin. “Or in me, I didn’t quite catch that.’

     Before he could answer, you pushed the phone further down, feeling it land with a thump onto the bed. Fingers delving in, you pulled them back out and thrusted shallowly. If you could hear the slick noises, knuckles bumping the phone, you knew he could. The vibrator buzzed loudly as you slowly increased the setting, whining as it yanked an orgasm out of you. Weak but there, a small snack to tide you over, wiping your hand on one of his shirts that you’d pulled from the closet. 

“Roman?’

“When I get home…’ You could feel his breath against your neck, listening as he tried to calm down, to suppress the lust eating at him. Good. “You won’t remember your own name, only thing you’ll be thinking is how good my cock feels splitting you open.’ 

“But you’re so busy.’ 

“And I just rearranged my schedule.’

     Your lock screen made your thighs glow, he’d hung up. What a prick. Had to admit that was a good one liner to end it on. The question now was did you keep going? Knowing that he was on his way, and would probably use the same vibrator until your clit ached. Then keep going. You had said you could take care of yourself, but why should you have to put in all the hard work when Mr. Big and Bad was coming to do it for you. Pampered like you deserved.

[atiny-piratequeen]

Against the Tide: Eighteenth Dal Segno (Ch. 18 Pt. 2)

Pairing: Poly OT8

•❥ Rating: Explicit (18+)

•❥ Genres: Heavy Angst, Action, Romance, Fluff, Smut, Fantasy

•❥ Series AU Tags: Demon Pirates, Supernatural, Poly Relationship (mxm), Past and Modern Day AU, Mythology Au, Slow Burn, Slice of Life, College Au, Rock Band Au, Happy Ending Endgame

•❥ Chapter Tws: Migraines, Nosebleeds, Blood, Guilt, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Misunderstandings, Poison

•❥ Chapter Sws: Foursome, Consentacle Tentacles (lets go Whiro!), Temperature Play, Comfort Sex, Finger Sucking, Jacob's Ladder Piercing, Hair Pulling, Blowjob, Frottage, Bareback, Auralism, Scent Kink, Cum Swallowing, Biting, Dacryphilia

•❥ WC: 14.6k+ out of 25.5k

•❥ A/N: The blue hellsite's devs are full of shit and my chapter was too big to post all in one so now I have to break it up into two posts. It would be real lovely for my AtTiny enjoyers to make sure to reblog my work when they're finished :3 This was going to be the reveal chapter but it was already 25k so I decided to break it up. Which...was clearly the right option since tumblr's new posting limitations hates me and my big chapters lmao. Thank you for waiting and stay tuned :) Also, if you haven't yet, maybe check out my new universe Ataraxia while you wait for the next chapter?

•❥AO3 | Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

•❥ ©atiny-piratequeen 2024. do not repost, translate, or use my works.

•❥Network Pings: @kwritersworld​ | @cultofdionysusnet​ | @k-vanity​

•❥← previous dal segno                 next dal segno –>

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✣✤✣✤✣✤✣✤♖✣✤✣✤✣✤✣✤✣

April 1st

7:34am

-220 Days Remain-

✣✤✣✤✣✤✣✤♖✣✤✣✤✣✤✣✤✣

“Hold your head up. Keep your back straight. Slouching is unbecoming of a Prince.” 

Seonghwa opened his eyes, looking to his left, and spotting the form of his child self, staring at his old instructor. 

Ah, a dream. 

He watched his child self stand straighter, his grey eyes hardening as stared at his instructor, his jaw, as cherub as it may be, locking. 

“Yes, Teacher. I apologize.” 

“Perfect, Prince Seonghwa. Now, raise your sword. To be a leader, you must never show that you are tired. Never show weakness. Those who follow you will sense something is amiss and if their leader is weak, they will lose hope. Even if you know your back is against the wall, you musn’t show your subordinates. Always remember this.” 

Seonghwa’s child self gripped the practice sword tight, nodding as he once again began to swing at the dummy before him, keeping his posture perfect. 

The current Seonghwa watched his younger self before turning, exhaling gently and heading in the opposite direction. 

He walked through rustling trees and the scenery began to melt into something different. 

Intricate designs on the carpet beneath his feet, expensive paintings lining the walls of rulers before him. Beautiful vases full of freshly picked and tended to flowers. 

The hall stopped on two frames. 

One, burned to cinders, of his father. Through the ash and damage, Seonghwa almost could not recognize him. 

He, however, knew the hilt of that falcata well. 

The very one situated on his hip currently. 

Seonghwa grit his teeth and looked to the final frame in the hall of rulers. 

Staring back at him was an image of himself. Or, rather, his other self. 

Inky black hair, piercing ice blue eyes, the deep crimson streaks on his eyes and along his lips. A crown of ice sat atop his head. 

Seonghwa approached ‘himself’, staring into his own eyes. The painting smiled back at him, tilting its head slightly before leaning out of it and towards him. 

The ex prince did not shy away, even when ‘he’ reached out, grabbing his wrist and smearing paint all over Seonghwa’s it, right over his compass stone. 

Seonghwa glanced down before looking back at ‘himself’. 

Crimson lips opened. 

“Come. It is not these halls you wish to walk through, now is it?” 

Seonghwa opened his mouth to question ‘him’, but was yanked through the painting. 

He fell through the painting, careening downwards, eyes widening as the color began to fade around him. His ‘other’ self gripped his hand tight, a wild smile on his face as they fell. 

“Where are we going?” Seonghwa hadn’t opened his mouth, instead he heard his own voice echoing through the space they were falling through. The ‘other’ him glanced over his shoulder at Seonghwa before looking down. 

“The place we’ve been yearning. Even if its for a little bit.” 

Before Seonghwa could reply, the gray blur around him as he fell began to rapidly fill with color once more until it cradled him like a blanket. He could no longer feel ‘him’ holding his hand. 

Seonghwa did not know when he’d closed his eyes again, but when he opened him, he was…home. 

No, not the castle, not the house in Seoul…he was home. 

The scent of salt from the ocean filled his nose first, then the rhythmic sound of water splashing along the hull of The Utopia. 

Seonghwa felt his throat tighten as he looked around. 

“I’ve never cooked swordfish before, but I’m excited to try!” 

He turned his head, watching as Yeosang stood with his hands on his hips, admiring the giant swordfish Jongho and Whiro had hefted aboard. San and Wooyoung stood not too far off, with Wooyoung singing a song they’d picked up in the last port town, slowly forming a new set of knives for their beloved chef to hack apart the fish for easier transport down into the galley. 

“I don’t care what ya do with it, just make it good for all the damn effort it took for us to bring this big ass fish up here, yeah?”

“Don’t be so fucking rude when asking for something, jackass.” 

Yeosang smiled patiently as Whiro rose from Jongho’s skin, growling and starting another one of their usual arguments. 

“Thanks so much, Doc. I drank that concoction you gave me yesterday and I feel leagues better than I did before!” Sana cheered, slapping Yunho on the back before she rushed over to get to work, tying her hair back as she did. 

Yunho watched her go with a smile, muttering thanks to Geb as he checked his watch and startled. 

“Ah! I’m late! I have to feed Atlas.” He rushed past Seonghwa, smiling and waving at him before hurrying below the deck. Seonghwa waved back and continued walking, finding Mingi seated on a barrel, glasses balanced on his nose as he scanned whatever was on the report in his hands. 

Seonghwa felt his heart clench for a moment. 

He stopped in front of Mingi. His presence drew the boatswain’s attention in an instant, with Mingi peering up at him over the rim of his glasses. Once he realized who it was, he set the report down. 

The dark-haired man sent him a big, genuine smile. 

“Hey! We’re lookin’ good. I think I finally got the hang of the numbers Cap’n wants to keep while also being mindful of resourc-Oh!”Mingi stopped short when Seonghwa threw his arms around his frame. 

He looked at the First Mate with concern before closing his eyes and rubbing his back. 

“It’s not like you to slouch, Seonghwa.” 

“I just want to hold you again, it’s been so long. Please…please let me just hold you a little longer.” Seonghwa almost didn’t recognize his own voice as he pushed it out. Mingi hummed before looking towards the sky, exhaling a small, good-natured laugh. 

“You’ll hurt your back if you don’t stand up straight.” 

“To hell with my back. To hell with it all. I just want to fix this. I miss…I miss this. I miss us. All of us.” 

Mingi gently pulled him away, smiling at him and cocking his head. 

“I know you do. After all, if it were just him you cared about, wouldn’t you have run into him first?”

Seonghwa watched as Mingi hopped off of the barrel, standing taller than him and cupping his face. His rough thumbs wiped Seonghwa’s cheeks of tears that had yet to fall. 

“I need to get stronger.” 

“I agree with you.” 

Seonghwa stared at Mingi, his heart pounding as the boatswain leaned in. Instinctively, he closed his eyes, expecting to feel the phantom brush of lips against his own. 

Instead, Mingi placed his lips near the shell of his ear. 

“We are in the past, Seonghwa. Nothing is going to change that. You can only change the future.” 

Seonghwa exhaled shakily, holding Mingi tighter. He pulled the ex prince closer and set his chin on his shoulder. 

“Regardless of what has happened, what will happen. I want you to know something. Take it to heart, okay?” Mingi ran his fingers over the fabric of Seonghwa’s clothes, admiring it as he spoke. 

“What lies behind you and what lies in front of you…that all pales in comparison to what lies inside of you, Seonghwa. And this goes for all of us.” Mingi pulled away for the last time, stopping to steal a long awaited kiss from Seonghwa’s lips. He kept their heads together, staring into Seonghwa’s teary eyes before grabbing his report and turning. 

“Go on, you should see him before you wake up.” 

With that, he walked away from Seonghwa, leaving the ex prince there to collect himself. 

It took the blonde longer than he would like to admit, but once he did, he exhaled and turned on his heel, rushing through the bodies on the ship. 

He did not care for the fact that he ran through some figures, with them blurring into vague aberrations before returning to the familiar faces of his old crew members, going about their business as if they hadn’t been disturbed. 

He found him on the quarter-deck, his back to him as he checked the compass in his hand. 

Seonghwa flew over, hugging him tight, burying his face into his back and letting the tears he’d barely reeled in freefall from his eyes. 

The man grunted before he glanced back, chuckling softly and placing a hand on Seonghwa’s.

That laugh, that beautiful sound. 

“It’s not often I see ya cryin’. Can’t say I’m a fan of seein' ya all messed up like this when yer not feelin’ good.” Captain Hongjoong turned in his arms, kissing the top of Seonghwa’s head and then laughing when the prince pulled him into a desperate kiss with no fanfare. 

“Please, stay with me. All of you please don’t go again. I…I don’t want to wake up please just let me stay.” 

Hongjoong looked at him before he glanced off towards the sea. There was a pained look in his eyes, but it was gone a moment later, as he turned his attention back to Seonghwa. 

“I know it’s unfair, but I’m askin’ ya to stand up straight and be strong.”

Seonghwa felt pain in his chest as he stood up, watching as Hongjoong leaned over the monkey rail. He wanted to scramble to grab him, to yank him back into his arms, but the rational side of him knew if he panicked, he’d awaken from this much earlier than he was willing to risk. 

Not now. Please, not now. 

He just wanted to talk for a bit longer. Just to hear his lover’s voice. Seonghwa focused when Hongjoong’s voice carried over the sound of the splashing waves. 

“What do you think it means to be a Captain?”

Seonghwa stared at Hongjoong’s back for a long time, watching as he gazed down to the deck below. Occasionally, someone would look up, notice the man's watchful eye, and give him a respectful nod, a wave, a fist pat across their own chest in acknowledgment.

Seonghwa watched them silently. 

“I haven't the slightest clue, putois. I don’t…I don’t think I’ve done you any justice in your… absence.” Seonghwa cringed, glancing at the deck below his feet. 

Hongjoong laughed and leaned on the wooden rail, the wind sweeping his hair. A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. 

“Ah, after all of this time, you’re still thinkin' with that Princely mindset, eh?  C’mon, Seonghwa, think out of tha box!”

Seonghwa’s lip curled but he held back the tongue lashing he had for him, instead watching Hongjoong shift from foot to foot, humming. 

“To me,” he started. “Every breath I take is for my crew. I would do anything for them. No pain is too great. No injury too grave. As long as I can move, I will ensure my crew is protected.”

Seonghwa looked down at the men shuffling about, lips slightly pursed. He could see Daniel gently motioning in a direction, followed by half a dozen members trotting down below the deck in mismatched harmony, carefree smiles on their faces. 

His eyes drifted back to Hongjoong.

“And what about you?”

Hongjoong glanced over his shoulder.

“What about me? I have this gift now. And with it, I protect my crew. My ship. I can be cut to pieces, but the moment I mend myself back, I will come back. Better. Stronger. This is what a Captain does. At least to me. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much sleep I lose, I pledged to do right by my crew.”

Seonghwa hummed, closed his eyes, and let out a shaky exhale.

What it means to be a Captain, huh?

“I don’t think I have what it takes.” 

“I think that’s bullshit.” 

Seonghwa opened his eyes, and all seven of his lovers stood before him.  He looked around, his brows pinching together as his lip wobbled again. Hongjoong walked over to him, cupping his cheek. 

“I have to go, Seonghwa. It’s about that time, eh?” 

“No! No wait, please!”

“It’s going to be okay. I believe in you. I wouldn’t have trusted my crew with you if I didn’t. Don’t give up. Not when you’ve found me. Keep going.” 

“Hongjoong, I can’t, okay?! I’ve..I’ve ruined everything. Mingi hates me…you don’t remember us, please. Just…just let me stay-”

“It’s time to wake up, Seonghwa.” 

Seonghwa watched as the man before him changed, the shaggy chestnut mullet now a well trimmed and fluffy black and white nest of loose curls. Soft, honey brown eyes stared up at him and Seonghwa looked down at the image of the current Hongjoong. 

“I…I don’t want to wake up-”

The musician placed his hand on the center of Seonghwa’s chest. 

“Get up, Seonghwa.”

“No! No, no, no, just a bit longer-”

“It’s time to get up.”

Hongjoong pushed him, and Seonghwa found himself powerless to stop it, falling back with the image of his lovers staring back at him being the last thing he saw before he fell through the deck. 

Once again…the color around him began to fade to gray as the ship got further and further away.

And then-

“CHEESE WILL PERFORM LIFE SAVING MEASURES! EVERYONE STAND BACK!”

Seonghwa jolted up, the sensation of falling the second time triggering his instincts. In an instant, Cheese came storming towards him, knocking him out of his bed and onto the floor before pressing onto his chest. 

“Live, Master Captain Seonghwa!!! LIIIIIIVE!”

“C-Cheese, he’s immortal, he doesn’t need you to do chest compressions-” San frowned, brows furrowed. Whiro cackled from where he’d pulled himself up from Jongho’s skin. 

“No, no, please let him continue, this is fuckin’ hilarious.”

Jongho rolled his eyes and made his way over, picking Cheese up and frowning down at the oldest immortal. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

Seonghwa sat staring at the ceiling in shock for a moment before he pushed himself up into a sitting position. 

Jongho and Yunho stood closest to his bed, worried expressions on their faces. Wooyoung was not too far off, holding a bowl of cool water as Yeosang wrang out a rag, paused mid-way as he stared at Seonghwa, bewildered. San sighed, setting aside the smelling salts he had fished out of Yunho’s room, pursing his lips in concern. 

Mingi stood in the doorway, quietly observing. 

“You were…screaming and crying in your sleep. We couldn’t wake you at all. Are…are you alright?” Yeosang inquired, rushing over to place the rag on his head. Seonghwa momentarily forgot the nature of the very powers inside of him, instead relaxing the instant the cool rag touched his head. 

He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and his eyes and throat stung, proof of the aforementioned screaming and crying episodes. Yunho ducked down and picked him up, setting him in his bed and holding a hand over his body. A faint green glow emitted from it as he seemed to check Seonghwa’s body with his powers. 

“Your vitals are good. It seems it was only a nightmare. However, I am detecting traces of-” Geb’s tender voice sounded from Yunho’s lips and Seonghwa shook his head, cutting him off. 

“I’m fine, Geb, please don’t worry.”

Yeosang clenched his fists.

“You’re doing it again. Why?”

Seonghwa’s gaze lifted to Yeosang, blinking in surprise.

“Doing…? What am I-”

“Did you know? Your scent changes when you lie. When you tell half truths, even. Everyone’s does.” Yeosang walked up, eyes blazing. Seonghwa stared up at him, pressing his lips together. There was a flash of something in his eyes, Mingi knew it well. The oldest of their group of immortals didn’t like to be challenged, and would usually respond accordingly. 

However, this time, as quickly as the look crossed his face, it was gone, replaced with a stone-esque poker face, albiet a bit too late for those who knew him well.

So…everyone in the room. 

“Yeosang, there is no need to be concerned.”

“Show me your side. Lift your shirt up, actually.”

“....”

“If there’s no need for concern, there’s no reason to not show me, right? My nose can just as easily be playing tricks, right?” He pointed to Seonghwa, eyes bleeding to crimson.

“Explain to me why I smell your blood, since there is no cause for concern, Park Seonghwa.”

A silence fell over the room that instantly made the air stifling. Seonghwa rubbed his tired eyes and let out an exhausted sigh before sending his lovers a smile that didn’t convince a single one of them he had pulled it together. 

“I…truly do not wish for any more fighting between us. I’ve been the reason for so much, already. They will heal. I’m sorry to disturb everyone so early. Thank you for checking on me. I…need to organize my thoughts and I will be alright.” He ran a hand through Cheese’s fur as he spoke to them. 

San looked down as he did. Seonghwa’s hand was trembling. 

“Seonghwa…” Yeosang realized his out of character outburst had made the man put up his walls again. A pang of guilt struck him hard and reached for him. Seonghwa caught his hand, turning it in one fluid movement and placing a kiss to his knuckles. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He spoke softly, a sense of finality in his tone. 

Drop it, please.

“We’re gonna get him back, Hwa.” San sat on the edge of the bed, putting his hand over Seonghwa’s free one. The ex prince let out a small exhale. He turned his hand up, taking San’s in his and raising it to his lips like he had done with Yeosang’s. San didn’t move, his expression softening as Seonghwa brushed his lips over his knuckles and pressed San’s palm to his cool cheek. 

“I…I know. I won’t stop until I do. I want…to be a man worthy of guiding and loving all of you.” His normally sure and bold voice came out as a mere whisper. 

Wooyoung came to his side quickly. 

“Of course you are!” 

Seonghwa could sense out of his peripheral that Mingi was still there, watching quietly. He had the hindsight not to glance in his direction and risk sending the wrong message. Instead, he closed his eyes, speaking clearly as he held San’s hand in place. 

“Do not misunderstand. I do not say these words because I wish for any of you to feel pity for me. I say them because I have made grave mistakes and I wish to atone for them. Until I do, how can I look any of you in the eyes and call myself a leader? How can I call myself an adequate lover when I have let you all down so tremendously?”

Jongho glanced at Yunho, who seemed to have a comment on the tip of his tongue but refrained. A guilty look settled on his face instead. 

‘I’ve pushed him too much, Geb.’

‘Perhaps.’

“My actions and…the harm they have caused are my own. It is on me to right these wrongs. My body will heal from these wounds in time. With that being said,” Seonghwa got out of his bed, looking around everyone in the room. 

“I wish to try that trial once more. But I don’t want anyone to feel rushed or pressured into doing it instantly like we had before.” he ran a hand through his hair and nodded. 

“I will be down for breakfast soon, I just…I would like to shower first, I'm covered in sweat. Thank you all for checking on me.” He stood, gently maneuvering around Cheese so the canine didn't fall. 

His remaining lovers exchanged concerned glances at one another before Jongho reached for him, catching his wrist and sending him a smile. 

“Mind if we join?”

Seonghwa’s lips parted, before he glanced down, finding a shadow subtly looped around his ring finger, tugging gently. 

The ex prince looked up, pressing his lips together to hide the small wobble. Gods, was he not done with the crying? Did it follow him into the waking world?

“C'mon.” Even Whiro regarded him with a tender tone, and Seonghwa found himself nodding, his feet slightly dragging along the cool floors. 

Mingi stepped out of the doorway as Jongho and Whiro ushered Seonghwa out.

“Seonghwa,”

The blonde perked, looking over his shoulder at Mingi. He rubbed his arm slightly, looking to the floor. Cheese had appeared at his side, rubbing against his leg before sitting at his feet.

“...Make sure to wash your face. It's…puffy. And, um. Drink water. So you don't get a headache. From the…crying and all.”

Seonghwa slow blinked at him before he let out a small exhale, the tears he'd been trying to force back down flowing from his face at the clear-albeit a bit awkwardly executed-words of concern.

“Thank you, Mingi. I'll be back soon.” Seonghwa’s voice somehow remained stable despite his tears (and the occasional laughs as he tried to wipe his face)

Jongho ducked down, looping his arm under the taller immortal's legs, picking him up.

“I got you. Just put your head on our shoulder and let us take it from here.” Jongho’s voice grew further from everyone as he carried Seonghwa down the hall.

Yeosang looked at the floor, guilt tearing at him. He quietly excused himself, cursing in several tongues as he maneuvered past his lovers. 

“I…I’ll make breakfast…”He trailed off, the usual excitement in his voice to do so gone as he jogged downstairs.

It wasn’t like him to lose his cool like that, but he could see the clear hurt on Seonghwa’s face and it was like watching a horrible accident in slow motion.

Still in the doorway, Mingi glanced into the room at the remaining occupants before ruffling Cheese's fur.

“Come on, let's go help Yeosang.” He nodded towards the stairs and Cheese happily trotted after him. 

In the bathroom, Seonghwa watched as Jongho and Whiro spoke back and forth to one another in Māori, moving about the room and grabbing different items. 

“Should we do a bath or shower?”

“Shower. I don't know if he's going to want to sit and be in his own head in a bath. Plus, foxy is making breakfast. It'd be rude to let it get cold by spending all day in the tub.”

Seonghwa couldn't understand a word they were saying, but he could tell they were working harmoniously, probably bouncing ideas off of one another.

“It's…nice seeing you two like this.” He softly spoke. Jongho perked for a moment before he extended his hand.

“We love you.” 

Seonghwa took his hand without hesitation, leaning into his space and holding his forearms gently. He pressed their foreheads together, staring into Jongho’s eyes. 

He noticed the right one had gone red, and his gentle smile grew as half of Jongho’s silken locks went blonde. 

“Couldn't wait your turn?” Seonghwa tried to jest but both of them cupped his face.

“I'm okay with sharing.”

“Just enjoy the pampering, pretty boy.”

Seonghwa ignored the latter response, closing his eyes and letting both tug him into a kiss. 

The two of them kissed him with a sense of gentleness foreign to Seonghwa. He was used to the demanding push and pull energies Whiro often put into his kisses, fighting without pause to control every aspect. 

Kissing Jongho was like approaching a newborn fawn in a way. He was far from the most delicate of the bunch. Still, Seonghwa always held in his subconscious the boundaries that the youngest had set in regards to his personal space and what did or didn't make him uncomfortable in moments in intimacy, even if he insisted on it being 'okay because it's you'.

Now, in this moment, Seonghwa felt he was being lead through the kiss. Their lips moved against his, and once he closed his eyes, he found he couldn't tell if it was Whiro or Jongho kissing him when the two had begun to switch off every now and again. 

A shadow wrapped around his hip, pulling him closer until Jongho wrapped a strong arm around his midsection, pulling him into the shower and pressing him against the wall under the overhead spray. 

Seonghwa cracked his eyes open, staring through a half lidded smolder. He was met one deep crimson eye and one dark brown one staring back at him, two toned silken locks clinging to Jongho/Whiro's body. 

"You two weren't kidding about sharing, huh? How long has it been since I've seen this?" Seonghwa spoke softly, a cool hand coming up to touch what was now Whiro's cheek as he kissed under Jongho's eye. 

"We'll take care of you. Don't worry ‘bout it." 

Seonghwa smiled softly and let the two pamper him, relaxing and giving himself up to them. 

For a little while, he’d just let his mind shut off. 

“Seonghwa, do you want to tell us what happened to cause these?” Jongho touched the purple splotches littering Seonghwa’s body, frowning at the wounds the ex-prince had been hiding underneath his clothes. 

“Training,” Seonghwa answered, cringing slightly as Jongho’s fingers brushed over some of them. He hissed slightly before avoiding the sharp gaze the Maori man (and Whiro) fixed him with. 

“Who did this to you?” Both of them growled out. Seonghwa shook his head and laced his fingers with theirs. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me? If that’s your intention, how about you make me forget instead?”

The two of them leveled him with a stare before they moved in for a kiss. 

“Consider it done.”

Down in the kitchen, Yeosang stirred his pot with a conflicted look on his face. 

Everything around him seemed to be caving in on itself and he still felt they were leagues away from actually being ‘on the same page’. And he’d hurt one of the loves of his life.

How much longer was he going to be a useless backdrop while everything happened around him? If he stood aside and let the others do all the heavy lifting, he was nothing but a bystander.

He should know, more than anyone, the harm that causes.

The kitsune grit his teeth and set the handle to his spoon on fire.

“Y-Yeosang?!” Mingi’s voice made him focus and he put the fire out in an instant. 

“Sorry, I just…” He let out a frustrated sigh and took the apron off, tossing it aside.

“Mingi, most of it is ready, you only need to stirr it in ten minutes and then let it simmer for another five and then you can all eat. Don’t wait for me.” 

He spoke with an authority they weren’t used to as he made his way upstairs. 

He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he had to do something. Had to say something. Seonghwa was doing it again, taking so much on his plate in order to take the chaos off of the others.

But he wasn’t making it any better, putting him on the spot, lashing out at him…it broke Yeosang’s heart watching those icy walls go up. 

‘Communication, Yeosang. By the gods, talk to each other’ 

How much longer was he going to sit on the sidelines passively, hoping a ‘positive attitude’ and his cooking would continue to put bandaids on the problem?

Gods, he could hear his sister laughing at him in back of his mind. 

“Look at you, a big crybaby with no backbone. This kingdom can’t be led with anyone like you.”

The kitsune marched directly up to the bathroom, opening the door abruptly and coming face to face with Seonghwa covering his mouth, stifling noises as Jongho and Whiro washed him probably a lot more thoroughly for it to be considered ‘innocent’. 

“Gods above and fucking below-What is it?” Whiro grunted, barely hiding his annoyance. Jongho was a lot more understanding, turning his head towards Yeosang. 

“What’s wrong? Do you need us?”

Seonghwa seemed to have been sobered out of his daze, body tensing despite the swearing from Whiro at the immediate reversal of what he and Jongho had tried to do. 

“I…” Yeosang’s ears got hot as he stared, losing track of what it was he exactly wanted to articulate. Whiro noticed and rolled his eye, picking Seonghwa up unceremoniously. 

“Fuck’s sake, Foxy. If you’re gonna interrupt when someone’s in the middle of somethin’, at least have your shit together. Come on.” he stopped in front of Yeosang and tossed him over Jongho’s other shoulder. 

He carried the two ex princes unceremoniously down the hall to his room and opened the door with a shadow, dropping them both to the bed. 

Both Seonghwa and Yeosang bounced and Yeosang opened his mouth to let out a flustered serious of noises before he caught sight of purple splotches all over Seonghwa’s body and slowly-healing wounds. 

“My gods they’re worse than I thought-”

Seonghwa looked at them before looking away. 

“They’re from training, I’ll heal back up. Really, it’s not that bad.”

“What the hell training are you doing that you haven’t healed up the next day? You heal faster than I do; if it were a simple cut, they’d be gone. Who did this to you?” He panicked, looking at the splotches. Seonghwa glanced away. 

It’d cause a lot of trouble if he said he’d been poisoned by Hongjoong’s brother, wouldn’t it? He didn’t want anyone getting mad at Yuta. As much of a little shit as he may have been, he still only fought Seonghwa at his request. 

“I’ll be alright, please do not worry. These are just healing slower.”

Yeosang cupped his face and forced their foreheads together, staring into his eyes. 

“Why won’t you lean on us? Why do you keep putting yourself through hell alone?” 

Seonghwa’s eyes widened before he sighed. 

“Yeosang-”

“I hate to interrupt, I really do, but Whiro and I were trying to get his mind off of things and I don’t want things to spiral back into that right now.” Jongho cut in, moving to grab some bandages and salves from his dresser. Geb and Yunho had made sure every room in the house had it stocked. 

It was polite, but the message was clear; 

Get out if you’re going to upset him again.

Yeosang looked at Seonghwa and pressed his lips into a line. 

“Give me the salve, I’ll help.”

Seonghwa blinked in surprise as Yeosang began gently rubbing the salve onto various parts of his body, his concern shining on his face. 

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.” Yeosang muttered, hand shaking as he looked at the wounds. 

Now that he was focusing, they were slashes caused by some sort of blade…the edges of the torn skin were glowing faintly, and Yeosang worried his lip between his teeth. 

“I…I’m sorry…I lashed out at you and that was not…even remotely appropriate.” He spoke softly. Seonghwa’s shoulders lost a bit of their tension and he hummed, only hissing slightly at the sting of the salve.

“I understand. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He hummed. Yeosang pressed his lips into a line, eyes bouncing from wound to wound.

Who the fuck did this? Who the hell had….what he assumed was poison strong enough to slow down an immortal’s healing? Seonghwa’s healing was a league of its own, coming only after Yunho, Jongho, and their Captain. 

“Raise your head, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa tilted his head back and let out a muffled noise of surprise when Jongho cupped his face, kissing him deep and slow. Yeosang’s ears twitched, glancing up a the men kissing above his head. Jongho held him firmly, tilting his head once and keeping Seonghwa locked in the intimate kiss without pause.

He could smell the way Seonghwa’s scent changed, sweetening subtly as he leaned into it a few moments after realizing Jongho was not giving him a mere peck.

Yearning. Need.

Yeosang liked this a lot more than the wilted scent that had clung to Seonghwa as of late. He’d…figure out what to do later in regards to easing the conflict in his partner’s heart. For now, he shifted his focus, wanting to match Jongho and Whiro’s energy when it came to distracting the blonde from his troubles, even if for a few moments.

His tails appeared and he curled one against Jongho’s waist, pulling him close before he leaned over to one of the gashes, pressing a warm kiss to Seonghwa’s chest. 

Each kiss left a lingering warm tingle to the ice prince’s body and he arched into both kisses, droplets of water rolling down his body. 

“S’pose we should dry him before moving on, hm?” Whiro reminded them, smiling devilishly at the dazed and needy look that had once again graced Seonghwa’s face. 

Yeosang waited until the Maori men moved away from Seonghwa’s lips before he leaned up, cupping his face and kissing him breathless, pushing him onto his back.

“Yeosa-mmff-” Seonghwa groaned, his hair clinging to his forehead and his neck as Yeosang poured all of his emotion into the kiss, tails stroking his arms, abdomen, and legs, leaving feather-like trails of warmth in their wake. 

“H-Hold on, wait-” Seonghwa blushed, cheeks ignting as he broke the kiss. Yeosang panted, holding his gaze, worry shining in his expression. 

“Did I hurt you?”

Seonghwa laughed gently, an alluring and sticky-sweet scent drifting off of him. 

“N-No.”

Yeosang tilted his head before a shadow worked its way between them, lifting him enough to get Seonghwa back in a sitting positon. 

“If that’s the mood you’re in, I’m happy to oblige. Let’s get you wrapped up, first.” Jongho’s voice cut in. Yeosang glanced down, his cheeks going beet red when he noticed Seonghwa had gotten aroused from the touches and kisses. 

“You don’t have to-”

“We want to, pretty boy. Trust me.”

Seonghwa’s lips parted in surprise before he looked down at Yeosang, a rare embarrassed expression crossing his face. Yeosang grabbed the bandages and began patching Seonghwa up, leaving kisses after each one. 

“I want to, as well. If you’ll have me.”

Jongho smiled and put his head on Yeosang’s shoulder.

“Now we’re on the same page.”

It took minutes before Seonghwa was splayed across Jongho’s lap, his chest rising and falling quickly as Jongho’s shadows stroked and caressed along his skin, tugging gently to leave him spread open for Yeosang to kiss and caress down his body. 

“Y-You don’t have to be so ge-gentle with me.”

“Really? Because you’re enjoying it just fine.” Whiro taunted, rising off of Jongho’s arms, taking his spot beside Yeosang between Seonghwa’s legs, kissing and biting at his thighs. 

Seonghwa let out a startled gasp before feeling Jongho’s fingers turn his head to kiss him, pressing flush against his back. 

“It’s okay. We got you.” Jongho muttered between his lips. Seonghwa whimpered before his hips jerked upwards, engulfed by the soft warmth of Yeosang’s mouth. 

Yeosang’s tails swayed and wagged gently, brushing along all three of the men. He kept his eyes up on Seonghwa, crimson eyes gleaming as he studied Seonghwa’s face. 

How long had it been since he’d seen this look?

The one the ex prince and First Mate wore well. The utterly ruined yet sultry expression that fit so well. His eyes rolling back, brows pinched together, tongue flicking out of his mouth-

Jongho reached around and tapped two of his fingers against Seonghwa’s lips, smiling in approval from behind him and kissing his shoulder as Seonghwa closed his lips around his fingers, licking and sucking as he spread his legs wider.

‘Gorgeous….’ Yeosang mused, swallowing around Seonghwa as he stared lovingly at the two. Whiro shifted from beside him, trailing rough fingers through his silken fur before he grabbed the base of them.

Yeosang jerked, nearly choking on Seonghwa’s cock as the deity turned his attention to him. 

“Stay focused, Foxy. Look at how good you’re doing.”

Yeosang shivered, feeling Whiro’s big hand tangle into his hair, guiding him up and down on Seonghwa’s length while holding him at an angle where he could see both Jongho and Seonghwa peering down at him. 

Yeosang felt himself throbbing before he moaned, sinking deeper and keening when he felt the head of Seonghwa’s cock brush against the back of his throat. 

“F-Fuhhh-”Seonghwa whimpered, drooling around Jongho’s fingers as he twitched. The shadows tightened around his thighs slightly before Whiro smirked, holding his head down for a few moments as he casually spoke to their blonde lover. 

“You’re making a mess, pretty boy. Been that long since you had something occupy your mouth?”

Seonghwa shuddered, body hyper sensitive. 

Gods, how long had it been?

“That’s not good. Knowing you, you haven’t even touched yourself, either?” Jongho sighed softly, biting and suckling his shoulder until a splotchy mark was left on the side of his neck. 

“H-Hadn’t crossed..nn..my mind. Been…occupied-”

“And that’s enough of that for now.” Jongho cut him off, using his free hand to come around and tease his nipple, making eye contact with Whiro across from then and tilting his head towards Yeosang.

Being connected like this had its perks and one of them was that they didn’t have to share their thoughts verbally. 

Yeosang hadn’t even realized Whiro’s hand was out of his hair until it returned to his tails, pushing them up and out of the way as he kissed and bit along the curve of his ass cheek.

Yeosang gasped and jerked, feeling those shadows tug his knees apart so he had better access. 

He glanced back at him, flushed and embarassed when the god spread him wide without hesitation. 

“Don’t worry about me, Darling. I’m just having breakfast. You focus on making our favorite blondie feel good.”

Yeosang’s tails flexed and trembled before curling around the three men in some way, shape, or form as Whiro’s tongue delved into him. 

Seonghwa cupped his jaw, sending him an adoring gaze as he moved his thumb lower, brushing his fingers over the slight bulge of Yeosang’s throat. 

“My darling fox. N-Ngh, thank you so much.” He praised him softly, thighs twitching and flexing in the shadows’ grip. Jongho smiled and moved his lips to his ear. 

“Your drooling all over yourself, Hwa.”

Seonghwa glanced over at him out of the corner of his eye, his teeth grazing along his fingers before sucking suggestively, curling his tongue around the calloused digits before sticking his tongue out between them, letting a bead of his saliva fall between them. 

Jongho narrowed his gaze at him, throbbing at the display. 

“I’m supposed to be gentle with you this morning, don’t make this harder on me.” 

Seonghwa’s lips quirked, challenging him with a subtle cock to his head. 

“I’m in your care.”

Yeosang’s voice drew their attention back between Seonghwa’s legs as he arched his back and let out a loud moan, trembling as Whiro’s tongue curled deep inside of him. 

‘Almost forgot how cute this one sounds’ Whiro’s voice echoed in Jongho’s head and he smiled, watching Yeosang’s eyes shine brighter, his tails twitching and wagging, going back and forth between clinging to them and jerking with each breathy and muffled gag and moan that came from his muffled lips.

“C-Close, hold on-” Seonghwa moved to reach for Yeosang’s head, trying to pull his hips back in a feeble attempt to still him so he didn’t cum down his throat. 

Two of Yeosang’s tails flew up the moment he did, grabbing his wrist and keeping him from stopping him as he looked up at him once more, holding his gaze as he sped his head up. 

“He’s doing his best to make you feel good, Seonghwa. You don’t have to hold back right now.” Jongho coaxed him, reaching down and cupping his balls, speaking into his ear once more. 

“Look at how desperate he looks, are you really going to keep it from him?” 

Seonghwa arched, body shuddering. Whiro rumbled from behind Yeosang, pulling away from the mess he’d made of his ass to lean over him, partially pinning him in place and grinning wildly up at Seonghwa as he took one of the kitsune’s ears between his teeth. 

“Don’t waste a drop, Foxy.”

Yeosang arched and swallowed hard the moment he felt Whiro’s canines clamp down on his fluffy ear. Everything was dizzying for the kitsune, the scent of arousal, need , and desperation along with everyone’s voices was driving him mad. 

Did none of them think about his poor heart? He could smell and hear everything tenfold because of what he was. 

If the deep, growling chuckle coming from the god currently pressing his cock against his ass as he suggestively caressed his throat where Seonghwa had made him bulge was anything to go by, he was sure they all knew exactly what the hell they were doing to him. 

The moment Yeosang and Seonghwa locked eyes again, the older of the two ex princes cried out in delight, arching his back as much as he could in Jongho’s strong grip, thick, sweet ropes of cum coating Yeosang’s throat. 

The smaller man let out a muffled moan, cumming messily onto the sheets below. Yeosang mewled, eyes fluttering momentarily as he swallowed each drop eagerly. It took a colossal effort for him to keep them open, but he wanted to drink in every expression on Seonghwa’s face. 

He slowly pulled off with a wet pop when he was sure Seonghwa had finished his first orgasm. 

The blonde sat there in a daze, panting with his legs spread wide by the shadows. Jongho kissed his shoulder, tracing patterns and symbols on his abs as he throbbed against the small of Seonghwa’s back. 

“Did that feel good? Your voice cracked for a moment.” He rumbled, leaving a biting kiss on the top of his shoulder. Seonghwa groaned and looked behind him. 

“You haven’t came yet. Don’t stop. Please,”

“We’re not done, Hwa. Far from it.”

While the two spoke and changed positions so Jongho could stretch him properly after getting lube, Yeosang felt a firm grip turn his head. 

He found himself staring deep into Whiro’s crimson eyes, and his breath caught for a moment. 

“Now, what’s a position fitting enough for the cute little cook that keeps all of us nice and fed mm?”

Yeosang shuddered and scanned his expression, lips parting before he closed them, shyness overtaking him. 

“Oh no no. You’re gonna tell me. Go on, tell me how you want it. I’ll do it, Yeosang.”

Yeosang would later reflect and curse himself at the way he’d gasped at Whiro calling his name. His eyes widened for a moment before he bit his lip and leaned close to his ear, shakily whispering to the god. 

In hindsight, he wasn’t sure why. The only one who couldn’t hear him would be Seonghwa. 

He was preoccupied with other matters, though, his cheeks going bright red when Whiro easily picked him up, setting him on top of Seonghwa with his knees at either side of Jongho’s hips.

The first thing both men realized with the new position was the temperature . 

Due to the nature of their powers, Seonghwa's skin and tongue always ran cold, while Yeosang was opposite of him. Both of them being chest to chest like this created an immediate back and forth between their body temperatures that made both of them writhe. 

Said writhing lead to both of their cocks rutting against one another. 

Both of them jolted again before Seonghwa reached out and grabbed Yeosang’s face, kissing him sloppily. Yeosang could tell he’d chilled his tongue on purpose and he responded in kind, raising the temperature of his own tongue slightly as he humped the older immortal. 

“Can’t have you forgettin’ about us, can we?” Whiro’s deep growling voice made Yeosang’s ear flick backwards, though he found himself unable to break the kiss. Instead, he subtly spread his knees wider, lifting his hips and raising his tails to present himself to the fractored deity. 

If the growl he was met with was anything to go by, his display was well appreciated. 

‘I’m going to fucking ruin him’ The god growled, still taking care to make sure he was properly lubricated. Jongho watched the two kiss on top of him and guided his own cock to Seonghwa’s prepped entrance, meeting Whiro’s gaze over both of their shoulders. 

There was a mutual understanding as they pushed into their respective princes at the same time. 

Yeosang groaned, nearly breaking the kiss if Seonghwa didn’t cup his cheeks, kissing him with renewed fervor as he clenched around Jongho’s cock. His eyes fluttered as each piercing rubbed against his rim before massaging along his walls once the ex gunner was fully settled inside. The kitsune rutting against him was equally delighted by the additional pleasure the piercings caused as Whiro’s cock mirrored Jongho’s, throbbing inside of Yeosang as he bit down on his ear again. 

“N-Ngh! S-Stop biting them, they’re sensitive-”

“That’s exactly why I’m gonna continue. Especially when you sound like that afterwards.” Whiro teased against the fur, grinding deep into him as he gripped the base of his tails. 

Yeosang’s eyes widened and he bucked, his cock drooling messily against Seonghwa’s as he swore in a different tongue. 

Jongho, on the other hand, reached around to hug Seonghwa’s midsection, keeping him from moving too much and possibly sliding his cock out. 

“You’re clenching me s-so tight. Mmm…fuck, I’m not going anywhere, Seonghwa, don’t worry. I’m right here.” He coaxed the ex prince into relaxing with his honeyed words, his hands roaming, calloused fingers mapping out Seonghwa’s body like it was the first time. 

Seonghwa finally broke the kiss, reaching behind Yeosang and fisting a handful of Whiro’s blonde locks, yanking him down roughly to kiss him as feverishly. 

Yeosang squirmed, effectively pinned between the god and the First Mate. His ears flicked, hearing every growl and groan directly beside his head as Seonghwa and Whiro bit and kissed at each other. 

“Y-Yeosangie~ Mmm-”

Jongho’s voice drew his attention and he looked down, finding the man had raised his chin, staring adoringly at him as he subtly puckered his lips. 

Yeosang didn’t hesitate, maneuvering around and eventually settling for pushing Seonghwa’s thighs up and folding him with his weight as he sought out Jongho’s lips.

Seonghwa’s moans rose an octave at the stretch, though his body was flexible enough to accommodate the new position, his heart pounding and his cock throbbing as he broke the kiss for air. 

Whiro growled, wrapping shadows around Seonghwa and Yeosang’s cocks, keeping them trapped together as he stroked them in time with his thrusts that began to steadily increase in speed until he was pounding the kitsune into the First Mate. 

“Yes! Yes yes please right there yES! ” Seonghwa had nearly began crying below them, his face screwed up in pleasure as different languages tumbled from his lips. Yeosang matched him, arching his back when he felt the shadows stroke them both faster. 

“L-Look at you two,” Jongho grit out, his grip on Seonghwa locking the taller man in place as he thrusted deeper and harder into him, searching for that sweet spot inside of him. 

“Pretty fuckin’ sight, yeah? Two pretty Princes moaning and makin’ a mess out of each other. And we get to see it from both sides~” Whiro’s voice was a deep, near feral purr as he tugged at the base of Yeosang’s tails, striking his prostate with one of his powerful thrusts. 

In an instant, Yeosang felt his vision go nearly white, arching his back sharply as a LOUD cry spilled from his lips, followed by him cumming all over himself, Seonghwa, and the shadows that kept their cocks together. 

Seonghwa’s eyes rolled, and he nearly arched and squirmed out of Jongho’s lap, had it not have been for the way the younger man tightened his grip, keeping him still as he rocked into him. 

“Don’t go anywhere, nn..right there, stay right there please please-”It wasn’t nearly as loud as the two (even three, Whiro was rather vocal with his growled out groans), but Jongho’s heated begging had shined through. Seonghwa’s hips bucked, thrusting against Yeosang’s as he clamped down on Jongho. 

“G-Give it to me, I’m here I won’t waste a drop c-cmon-” Seonghwa began babbling in his lust-drunk daze, grabbing Yeosang’s ass and keeping his cheeks spread for Whiro to see his own cock sliding in and out of the younger prince before he felt heat flood into him. 

Jongho bit down on his shoulder, eyes rolling as he came, the muscles in his thighs tensing as he felt it wash over him. 

Yeosang glanced down, watching the mess begin to coat Jongho’s cock. Whiro pressed against his back, the growl that left his lips vibrating through Yeosang’s very being as he chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, Foxy. I got somethin’ for you, too.”

Yeosang made the mistake of nearly questioning the got before he felt his prostate getting struck full force. He choked on his own breath for a moment, arching his back and crying out as Whiro looped his arms through Yeosang’s pulling them behind his back so he was arched and on display for Seonghwa and Jongho to see. 

Yeosang noticed this face and whimpered, his ass bouncing with every powerful thrust, unable to keep his eyes open as Whiro rocked up into him. 

“That’s it~ Mmm, such a pretty little fox for us, look at them, they’re practically drooling over themselves for ya~”

Yeosang still couldn’t open his eyes, drowning in the pleasure of each calculated thrust before he felt heat flood into him. His tails tensed, and he nearly passed out from the second sudden orgasm that slammed into him. 

It took a few moments…minutes…? For him to realize he had passed out momentarily from the pleasure. When he was able to focus again, he found Seonghwa was caressing his face lovingly, smiling at him. Yeosang stared up at him, panting as he cupped his hands over Seonghwa’s to keep him flush against him. 

“I love you.”

Seonghwa’s gaze softened and he leaned down to kiss him softly. 

“I love you too. Can you move or do you need a moment?”

Yeosang rose his head in confusion. 

“A moment?”

A slow, seductive smile crossed his face. 

“Darling, we’re not done.”

Downstairs, Yunho glanced up from his bowl, cheeks beet red. 

“Should I bring them some water…?” He muttered. Geb rumbled inside of him, considering making them some cucumber water or-

“We should let them have this time to themselves,” San spoke, washing his dishes. Wooyoung stood beside him drying them while Mingi ate quietly at Yunho’s side, eyes fixed on his plate, pushing around a piece of food. 

“You’re right.”/ ”We will need to see Seonghwa afterward, though. He may be convinced he will just power through, but I am concerned over the potency of the poison in his body.” 

The other three men in the room froze, eyes widening. 

“The what? ”

Upstairs, Seonghwa kissed the space between Yeosang’s shoulder blades as he held his hips, grinding deep into him at a near methodically slow pace. 

Jongho caressed the Kitsune’s face, his gaze soft and loving as he guided his head up and down his shaft, making sure he didn’t choke between his muffled moans. 

Whiro wasn’t too far off, claiming Seonghwa’s lips in a demanding kiss that made him lose his tempo several times before he’d reaffirmed his grip and continued. 

It had been…many moons since Seonghwa had been intimate with any of the loves of his life and Yeosang was quickly remembering that the taller prince was quite insatiable when he slipped into the waves of passion. 

Every mood was calculated, and every motion Seonghwa made when he was like this felt like a master chess move. 

He knew all of their limits and stamina, knew who could match his energy, who could surpass it, who may fall behind. Everything he did, it was to maximize their time together and leave them satisfied and honestly? Craving more. 

“Where is your mind, my love?” the chill of his breath fanned over Yeosang’s ear and he bucked, swallowing around Jongho in surprise. When had he and Whiro stopped kissing?

 Seonghwa chuckled, cold fingers roaming his body. 

“I can feel you tightening up, why don’t you let go for me? For us? We got you.” 

Yeosang had half a mind to remind the blonde that they were supposed to be doting on him , but all that came out was a pathetic whimper in need as he once again fell apart, sending a pleading look at Jongho that made him follow suit. 

Yeosang would be flustered to admit later that he’d lost track of how many different positions they’d shifted in and moved to before all three (or, rather, four) of them were satiated enough to collapse in a pile in the center of the bed. 

Yeosang panted, his hair unkempt, and bites covering his body. As he turned his ruby-eyed gaze to Seonghwa, he smiled, finding the man had actually been properly tired out and also was covered in the same bites (and scratches). 

Jongho ran a hand through his hair, looking at the two ex princes with a gentle look. He didn’t verbalize what was on his mind but Yeosang noticed the serious settle in his features as he idly ran his hand through both of their hair. 

Whiro returned to his skin, only after placing surprisingly tender kisses to each of them and holding a stare with them that was rife with words unsaid before he settled along their ex gunner’s skin. 

I love you

They knew the words well, even if the god hadn’t uttered it. It was in his eyes, it was in Jongho’s eyes as he continued to stare at them before he rolled his neck. 

“I should get Yunho and Geb in here. Have them get that poison out of your system.” He looked like he didn’t actually want to get up but he still did, stopping only when Seonghwa reached out to him. 

“Please….have him leave the marks be.” 

Jongho’s lips quirked for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t dream of telling him to get rid of them. If they’re healed in the process, We’ll just have to give you some more of them.” 

Seonghwa blushed before letting him go, closing his eyes and letting his eyes close. 

“Very well. Thank you.”

He left the two prince’s in the room to fetch the doctor. Yeosang gently rolled over, running his hand through Seonghwa’s damp hair and watching as he took a moment to open his eyes again, exhaustion clear on his features now that he wasn’t putting on the front of ‘everything being fine.’

“...I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to…be helpful. To try and walk beside you instead of behind you.”

Seonghwa’s tired expression began to sharpen, and he lifted his head. 

“Yeosang-”

“I won’t be walking behind any of you anymore. I swear.” Yeosang laced their fingers together and gave his hand a squeeze. 

“Standing on the sidelines being passive is everything I hated one of my sisters for. I…have done no better than her in that right. I will work harder to never, ever be that man again. So…let me take some of the burden, okay?” He gently caressed his knuckles. 

Seonghwa’s gaze softened, brows pulling up. 

“That goes the same for us.”

Seonghwa turned his gaze to the doorway, finding Yunho walking in quickly with Jongho in tow. Seonghwa moved to push himself out of bed, but Yunho placed his hand on his chest and pushed him back down, shaking his head. 

“Stay there. We’ll get the poison out of your system and heal the wounds your body has been trying to close.”

Seonghwa laid back down, watching as Yunho took a pair of bandage scissors to the wraps around his midsection, narrowing his gaze at the wounds. 

There was an unfamiliar noise that left the man’s lips has he stared at the wounds. He summoned a gerbera daisy and let it over over the wounds, his eyes trained on each one as the magic coming from the flower drew the poison out of each gash. 

They all watched as droplets of purple absorbed into the petals of the daisy. 

“It’s a poison that continues attacking. It’s no wonder your healing is slowed. It’s trying to attack even us through the flower.” Geb rumbled, looking over a the wilting petals of the daisy with a narrowed gaze. Seonghwa’s brows rose in surprise before he looked away from him the moment both the earth god and Yunho fixed im with a stern gaze. 

“When we find out who poisoned you-”

“That won’t be necessary, puppy. Truly.”

Yunho looked unsatisfied, lips pressed into a fine line as he stared at Seonghwa, drawing the last of the poison out and setting the daisy aside. 

He cupped Seonghwa’s cheeks and sighed, pressing their foreheads together. 

“You’re still doing things all on your own, you know.”

He lightly scolded him, though nothing but concern shone in his eyes for the blonde before him. Seonghwa stared back at him, his thumbs gently rubbing patterns in the blanket below him. He wouldn’t bother wasting his breath denying it, especially when they all knew it was true. 

Yunho heard Geb rumble in concern inside of his head and he sighed softly, pulling away from the blonde. 

“Seonghwa, I owe you an apology.”

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed. 

“Seriously, you all do not need to keep apologizing-”

“I told you you weren’t working hard enough and suddenly you’re out here doing reckless things, getting hurt all alone , keeping yourself awake for ungodly hours of time, all in the sake of ‘trying harder’, aren’t you? Is that not a direct result of me unfairly forcing my own inadequacies on you instead of acknowledging we all failed and we all need to try harder? Be better? I fucked up, and I’m sorry.” he pressed a kiss to Seonghwa’s head before pulling away, rubbing his thumbs over the man’s cheeks.

“We can…sit down and hash it all out a bit later. For now, you need rest. Between the poison and….your activities this morning, I imagine you’re exhausted, right?”

Seonghwa flexed his fingers, looking at his compass mark for a moment before he nodded, laying down and pressing his cheek to the pillow. 

“Then…if its all the same to you…I’ll rest a bit more. If you need me, please wake me.” He muttered, letting the threads of exhaustion and sleep finally lace into a net, pulling him into sleep not too longer after Yunho nodded at him with a tender smile. 

Once he was sure Seonghwa was asleep, his smile fell and he turned to the others. 

Yeosang looked equally exhausted, but he perked when he saw the frown cross his lover’s face. Jongho was alert and standing not too far off from the bed, a pair of sweatpants settled loose on his hips as he watched the three of them. 

“You all can rest. I…I’ll work on a plan-”

“Nah. How about we wait until we’re all up and about and make a proper plan of action this time?” Jongho and Whiro cut him off bluntly, finger tapping against one of Jongho’s biceps after he crossed his arms. 

Yunho paused for a moment before he looked down at the exhausted blonde sleeping soundly, his brow occasionally twitching every now and again. 

“....Yeah. Actually, that sounds like a better plan. I’ll leave you two to rest, as well. Do either of you want any food?” 

While the three of them chattered, San made his way down the hall in the opposite direction, slipping into Seonghwa’s room and glancing around. 

He probably should wait until the blonde was up and about to do all of this, but San knew the ex prince well enough to know they would continue to dance around everything if he did so. 

San tried not to make it a habit to revert back to his old behaviors from centuries ago when his street smarts and quick hands could get him into whatever locked box or door he needed them to.

Tried to , did not mean he was above doing so. 

San scanned the room carefully before he found a box with a few papers sticking out from it. He made his way over to it, scanning the contents inside before humming and grabbing the papers, laying them out and reading through them. 

His lips pressed into a fine line the more he read before his eyes widened. 

He glanced behind him at the door as if he could peer through it before having a seat at Seonghwa’s desk, reading everything with increasing amounts of worry settling in his being. 

Outside, Mingi passed by the First Mate’s door, casting a sidelong stare at it. Cheese perked, sniffing once, twice, before wagging his tail, seemingly unbothered. 

Mingi, however, stared at the handle for a long time before he let out the smallest scoff and continued his way down the hall. 

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2:30 pm

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“Can…I ask your advice on something?” 

Miyavi looked up, stopping mid guitar pluck to look at Hongjoong as he stood in the doorway to his and his wife’s room. 

He sat up in an instant, setting the guitar aside and nodding. 

“Of course, little one. C’mere. What’s up?”

Hongjoong plopped down across the foot of the bed, his legs dangling over the edge as he stared at the ceiling. Miyavi looked at him curiously, waiting for his son to gather his thoughts. 

“I…I’m confused.”

“Okay, about what?” 

Hongjoong paused again, worrying his lip between his teeth. He wanted to blurt out to his father that he’d been having dreams that feel like memories, about the fact that he’d seen at least two men with some form of supernatural powers, gods are real and one of them is inside of his boyfriend and-

-instead, something else tumbled from his lips. 

“I only just started dating Yunho but I also feel an attraction towards some of the others.”

Miyavi blinked. Hongjoong blinked. 

It took everything in him not to facepalm. 

“...It must be overwhelming, yeah? All of these new emotions so suddenly.”

Miyavi hummed quietly, reaching over to ruffle his son’s two toned hair. Hongjoong let him, nodding quietly. 

“I…don’t know what to do…”

“What does your heart want?”

“Yunho’s the only boyfriend…the only partner I’ve ever had. I can’t just go ‘hey, we’ve been dating for about a week but your boyfriends look fine too’, y’know? That’s just…”

Miyavi laughed, smiling down at his son and tilting his head. 

“So be honest with Yunho, but also take your time. You know where your heart is tugging you, but you’ve got a good enough head on your shoulders to know that Rome wasn’t built in a day. It takes time. But the first step is to make sure you’re clear and on equal footing and understanding. Misunderstandings and secrets are the downfall to any relationship.” He pressed his index finger lightly to Hongjoong’s forehead until the younger musician met his gaze, nodding with a small sigh.

“You’re right…”

“Yunho looks like an approachable man, just be honest with him and reassure him your gaze isn’t wandering…it’s simply…mm…expanding? Yes, that makes sense.” He chuckled having paused to find the words for his analogy.

Hongjoong laughed lightly before he looked at him. 

“You….don’t think it’s weird?”

“Polyamory? Not at all. I just care first and foremost that you are safe and happy . You’re my son, I’d give my world to make sure you and your siblings are smiling and happy. I’ll be with you every step of the way to make sure that happens.” He smiled and watched as Hongjoong sat up, fixing his hair before a bit of the tension he was holding in his body was lessened. 

“I….I have more I’d like to talk about but I….don’t know how to word it yet. It kind of makes my head hurt when I think about it.” Hongjoong rubbed his neck. 

It wasn’t a complete lie, but still. 

Miyavi watched him silently. He had a good hunch on what it was, but that would be a far more treacherous conversation to wade into than relationship advice on rekindled feelings. 

“Whenever you’re ready, your mother and I are here to listen. Just let us know.” Miyavi stood and rolled his shoulder before setting his guitar back in its case. 

“C’mon, let’s head out for a walk, it’s a beautiful day out.”

Hongjoong glanced outside, blinking in surprise at the sunshine that had begun to peek through the clouds. He could’ve sworn the forecast said it was supposed to be overcast all day. He stood and nodded, smiling at his father as they made their way to the door. 

“Let me get my shoes, then!” Hongjoong darted out and Miyavi laughed, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“Slow down, we have time.”

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April 3rd

5:30am

-218 Days Remain-

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Seonghwa sat up, rubbing his neck and sighing. Today was the day. The scent of cinnamon off to his left nearly distracted him from his thoughts.

He had to go train with Jaemin and see if he could come up with a method to-

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” 

Seonghwa’s eyes snapped to the corner of the room, landing on San as he smiled from ear to ear, his eyes crescents. 

“San…?”

“Good morning, handsome. Slept well?” 

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed as he looked to the man sitting at his desk, a bright smile on his face. 

“What…?”

San held up the papers, head tilting. 

“Planning to go train all on your lonesome today, hm? Do you even know what today is?” He inquired. Seonghwa’s lips pressed together, racking his brain. 

It didn’t bother him that the younger man had gone through his papers nearly as much as it did that he had missed something important. 

April, it was April, he’d been in his own head so much, had he missed someone’s anniversary or-

“CHEESE CANNOT WAIT ANY LONGER. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAPTIAN PRINCE SEONGHWA MASTER SIR!!!!! CHEESE HAS COME WITH GIFTS!”

Seonghwa had a sense of dejavu as Cheese threw himself onto his bed once more, landing on his chest. A muffled groan came from his left and Seonghwa finally clued in to the others in the room. 

Yeosang was beside him, ears twitching as he rubbed his eye. The groan came from his left, as Yunho lifted his head, squinting into the room at the excited dog. 

“Cheese, its so early….”

“Why is everyone in my room?” Seonghwa inquired, sitting up more and spotting Wooyoung curled up in Yeosang’s arms, still asleep. 

“To make sure you don’t try and do something silly like go off fighting whoever it is you’re fighting on your birthday .” San set the papers down and sighed, leaning on the table.

“I’m sorry for snooping, but I don’t…like seeing you with these dark circles and slumping from exhaustion. You’re…working really hard, aren’t you? At least for a day, let’s all take some time and decompress. We can talk about your findings and train together, I’m still pissed I got my ass kicked so easily…but above all else, we need to do better to take care of each other.” He tapped his finger against the table and smiled at Seonghwa. 

“So, will you join us for the totally not at all planned birthday celebration?” 

Seonghwa laughed softly, petting Cheese and nodded. 

“Where’s Jongho and…?”He trailed off, leaving the tail end of his inquiry open ended. San’s smile faltered slightly, brow ticking in subtle annoyance before the look cleared up. 

Seonghwa caught it.

Ah, Mingi probably didn’t want to share a room with them, so Jongho stayed with him so he wouldn’t be alone.

He sighed, shoulders dropping before he was immediately distracted by Cheese thrusting his snout in his face.

“CHEESE HAS TRAVELED OVERNIGHT TO GET THIS.”  

Seonghwa tilted his head and watched as Cheese nudged his palm open. Once Seonghwa obliged him, he dropped a spear-tip shaped piece of ice into it, tail wagging. 

The ex prince cocked his head, looking at it in wonder. 

“There’s some kind of…power surging through this. What is this, Cheese?”

“CHEESE TOOK A TRIP TO THE LAND OF FROST GIANTS AND ASKED LADY SKADI IF CHEESE MAY HAVE SOME ICE! Cheese is friends with Kaldr so she said yes. She is a very nice lady.”

“I’m sorry, did you say the land of the frost gi-”

“ HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Seonghwa stared at the dog, aghast. He really needed to keep track of him when he went running off. In the meantime, he looked down at the shard, rolling it around in his palm. 

“....thank you, Cheese. You’re a very good boy.”

Cheese’s tail stopped wagging in an instant and he stared at Seonghwa for a while before pressing his head to Seonghwa’s. 

“Cheese…is not the smartest Cheese, but Cheese loves his masters very much and will do anything to make them happy. Happy birthday!”

Seonghwa laughed softly and made room for the dog to lie down on his chest. 

“Fine…if you insist, I’ll take the day off. We should sleep in.” He nuzzled the canine and San smiled, moving to lie beside Yunho. 

“That’s a lot more like it.”

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    10:30am

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“You look handsome.”

Seonghwa smiled softly, looking at himself in the mirror. Yunho, San, and Wooyoung had bought him a new outfit. 

Wooyoung adjusted the black turtleneck on the taller man, brushing his fingertips over Seonghwa’s jawline. There was a matching black thigh-length pea coat that was left open. His pants were form fitting-also black-, with shimmering chains dangling from his belt hoops and pockets. 

“You look like a model.” San nodded in approval and Yunho held his hand out, creating an ice blue flower to tuck into his chest pocket. 

Seonghwa smoothed his hands over the clothing, smiling. San had styled his hair, brushing his bangs out of his face before smiling and pointing to the seat. 

“Yeosang said he’d do your makeup, then we can get going.”

The blonde would be lying if he said it didn’t feel good, to be doted on by everyone. It reminded him of when he was a prince, the days he’d spend seated on a cushion between his mother’s legs as she gently combed and brushed his hair. 

“Mon bebe, such beautiful hair. Not a knot in sight. One day, you won’t need your mother to brush your hair.”

“No, Mother, I will always want you to…it feels nice and you always have this pretty smile when you do.”

Seonghwa felt himself tearing up, startled as Yeosang paused with a brush hovering over his cheek. 

“S-Seonghwa…?” He frowned, leaning away from him. Seonghwa blinked before straightening up. 

“Apologies. I was…thinking of my mother.” He smiled and sat down, pulling Yeosang into his lap. 

“I will sit still, continue.”

Yeosang straddled him, wiping his tears and carefully doing his makeup. He’d learned a lot in the time they’d spent with Hongjoong and his friends. 

Honestly, he was surprised Seonghwa agreed to let him do this for him. The older immortal held his hips and sat in silence, his eyes trained on Yeosang. 

“It's truly amazing.” 

Yeosang blinked down at him. 

“What is?”

“It’s been centuries, and my heart still flutters when I’m this close to you all.” He reached up and caressed Yeosang’s cheek with the back of his knuckles. 

“No matter how many moons have came and went, I still love the seven of you with my whole heart.”

Yeosang bit his lip, feeling his eyes get misty before he stole a kiss from Seonghwa. 

“D-Don’t make me cry, dammit. I’m trying to dote on you.”

Seonghwa chuckled and nodded, not saying much else as he stared at the kitsune.

When they were finished, Seonghwa walked downstairs, looking around subconsciously, counting the heads. 

He paused, eyes landing on Mingi, and he perked.

“Are you coming?”

Mingi cast a glance at San, arms crossed. San stared back, cocking a single brow at him.

‘Someone wouldn’t leave me alone until I did’./ “Yes. It is your birthday.” He answered, rubbing his ear and toying with the strap to his satchel.

Seonghwa fought back the way his smile nearly faltered from his face. Everything in his body language screamed that he didn’t really want to go out. 

He took a breath and pushed down any of those emotions and walked up to Mingi. 

“I appreciate you getting dressed. I…know you’re not very fond of me anymore, if you don’t want to come out, it’s alright. We can…reschedule? Or maybe I can break the day up so you’re not left alone?”

San bristled behind him and Jongho frowned, pushing himself off of the wall he’d been leaning against. 

“Hold on-”

“I’m not going to force him to come. I know Mingi has been hurt the most by me in these years, he has every right to not come with me.” Seonghwa spoke firmly, glancing at the others one by one before looking back to Mingi. 

Mingi held his gaze for a long while before sighing softly and rubbing his neck. He felt the gaze of everyone land on him and it immediately made him feel ill.

“I’m going. I…don’t have a gift for you, though. I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa’s smile softened. 

“Are you sure? I will not take offense if you don’t want to?”

“Staying cooped up in the house isn’t going to help me get out of my own head, either.” 

Seonghwa smiled wider, gently touching the back of Mingi’s hand for a brief moment. Mingi didn’t pull his hand away and Seonghwa took it as a small victory, turning to the others. 

“Alright, gentlemen, where are we going?”

Yunho placed his hand at the small of Mingi’s back, making sure he was truly alright before smiling at Seonghwa. 

“Let’s get in the car. We got an idea from Hongjoong and the others.”

One by one, the men walked out of the home with Cheese faithfully trotting beside them. 

San followed Mingi with his eyes, pressing his lips together in a frown before taking his place at Wooyoung’s side as they piled into the car.

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12:30 pm

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“Woo~ Well hello handsome~” Yeonjun whistled, their hands on their hips as the group of immortals walked up to their human friends. 

Seonghwa bowed in greeting, smiling at the others. 

“Oh, are you all going to enjoy this day with me?” 

“Of course, you’re our friend now!” Moa beamed, handing him a wrapped gift. 

“What is this?” He inquired. She smiled and put her hands on her hips. 

“It's a set of earrings! We all pooled together and had them made for you in a jiffy!” 

He opened the box, surprised by the green stones. He took a close look at the pattern in the snowflake-shaped stones and blinked in surprise.

They looked like feathers.

“It's a seraphinite stone. They bring out the color in your eyes.” Chungha told him, rocking on the balls of her feet. Seonghwa’s eyes softened as he put the earrings in. 

“Snowflakes, eh?” He smiled. 

“I suggested it.”

Seonghwa turned his attention towards the back of the group, watching as Hongjoong came up to him. His heart squeezed and he looked down as Hongjoong stopped in front of him. 

“Snowflakes. And why did you choose that shape?”

Hongjoong scratched his cheek, his free hand barely hiding a different bag from you. 

“Something about you just…reminds me of the night of a fresh snow. It’s cold, and for some people, it appears to not be very welcoming but it's actually one of the most beautiful gifts nature gives us. Ah, sorry, that sounds really cheesy-” He went beet red and handed him the bag, his ears burning in embarrassment. 

Seonghwa blushed, as well, looking down at the bag. 

Inside, bold red letters stared at him. 

“What is a…’Lego’?”

Chan looked at Hongjoong in confusion. 

“You got him a Lego set?”

Hongjoong blushed as Seonghwa pulled out one of two boxes. 

“I got him two, actually.”

Seonghwa stared at the first set. There were over 300 pieces to the set and a bunch of small little…animal mascots?? on it.

“This is…cute? I never expected something like this as a gift. Do I just assemble-”He choked on his own words as he looked at the second box.

Seonghwa’s hand shook subtly as he picked it up, staring at the second large Lego set. 

It was a pirate ship. 

“It…felt right. Sorry if its childish.” Hongjoong muttered. Seonghwa bit the inside of his cheek, his lips trembling as memories hit him like a brick. 

-”This ship is my pride an’ joy, Hwa. Everyone aboard it is essential to her smooth sailin’. Tha’s why a good Captian needs to take care of his crew like he does his ship.” 

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, listening to the short Captain once again boast about his ship to him. 

Seonghwa’s kingdom had more impressive ships, that much was for sure. He also found it interesting, a ship being ran by women fleeing their lives in lieu of one on the great blue sea. 

One misstep and they’d all be hunted down and destroyed, but oddly enough, Seonghwa had never seen a happier bunch. 

“Putois, you don’t need to sell me on this ship. I’ve already agreed to sail with you on it. I wouldn’t still be on it if I thought it would fall apart.”

Hongjoong laughed and leaned over the rail, the wind blowing his bangs wildly.

“Maybe, but I’ll keep singin’ her praises until you love her, Seonghwa.”

The blonde stared at him for a long time before coming to his side, arms brushing as he leaned against the rail.

“....I suppose she is quite beautiful, Captain.”-

Hongjoong let out a noise of surprise as Seonghwa pulled him into a strong hug, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. 

“It makes me very happy to know you got me gifts despite knowing me for such a short period of time. I will cherish them for the rest of my life.”

Yeonjun pouted from behind them and Changkyun cleared his throat. 

“We should go inside. We have a lot to see.”

Seonghwa looked up at the art museum and smiled. 

“Let’s go. Its been quite a while since I’ve been to a museum.” 

“We found one that will allow Cheese, too. Are you excited, little dude?” Felix inquired, petting Cheese. Cheese wagged his tail, walking directly beside Seonghwa, ears perked and alert. 

“THIS PLEASES CHEESE GREATLY, HUMAN.”

The boys bit back their laughs at the energetic hound and walked inside. 

Seonghwa found himself enjoying the pieces between scanning the crowd, making sure he had laid eyes on all of his loves and their friends. 

“You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.” Wooyoung’s soft voice drew his attention as he stopped beside him, looking at a set of blown glass animals. Seonghwa looked down at it, humming. 

“I can’t help it. No matter where I go, I find myself looking for the seven of you.” He answered honestly. Wooyoung glanced over at him, gently taking Seonghwa’s free hand, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. 

“There’s always been something so…inspiring about the way you say things, Seonghwa.” He rocked on the balls of his feet, guiding Seonghwa and Cheese to the next painting. The three of them looked at the goofy art, with the card beside it explaining that it was made by the art director’s pet cat running across their paint and then the canvas. 

“There have been plenty of times, especially as of late, where I find myself at a loss for words or lacking the proper ones to say.” Seonghwa spoke honestly but Wooyoung shook his head once. 

“You still have this…unwavering determination I’m honestly jealous of. It takes me so long to get the words out for things I want to say and by time I’ve gathered the heart to do so, the words get caught in my throat.” 

Seonghwa put his arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders, pulling him closer. 

“If its about not speaking up when Mingi and I would argue, do know I do not hold it against you, or anyone. My behavior, the cause and effect they have created, are my own fault and its no one else’s fault but mine. If there’s anything our Captain has instilled in me, it’s an unwavering, bullheaded and sometimes idiotic determination to charge forward towards what you believe in.” Seonghwa ran his cool fingers over Wooyoung’s shoulder, putting his head above his. 

“Even if it hurts, even if I get tired, I won’t ever give up. You all are worth fighting for, and come Hell or high water, I’ll repair what was lost.”

Wooyoung looked up at him, lips parted, before he closed his mouth, standing on his tip toes to press a small kiss to the corner of Seonghwa’s lips. 

“I…have a lot to learn from you all. But I’ll get the courage and get on the same level as you one day.”

Seonghwa chuckled and guided him to the next one.

At some point, Hongjoong beckoned them over, pointing to a painting of a large wolf in a snow storm that was made entirely of different shades of blue.

Yeonjun stared at the painting in delight, chattering about different painting techniques to Chungha. Seonghwa stopped beside them, the art reminding him of the painting he had made for his beloved all those centuries ago.

“This one grabbed my interest,” Hongjoong explained, looking up at it with a gentle smile. Cheese carefully approached, nuzzling Hongjoong’s hand and wagging his tail when the pianist gently gave his head a pet. 

Seonghwa took in the brush strokes, staring into the eyes of the wolf for a long time before he nodded. 

“It is quite eye-catching, isn’t it? I wonder what kind of story it has to tell.”

“Cheese thinks Cheese is a more handsome doggo than the painting doggo. Though Cheese wonders if the blue doggo has blue toe beans.”

Seonghwa snorted quietly, looking down at the dog incredulously. Yeonjun perked, tilting their head. 

“Your dog is very chatty today. Isn’t that right?” They grinned, bending to pet Cheese. To them, it simply appeared to be gruff dog babbel. Cheese’s tail wagged and he licked Yeonjun’s face. 

“You have no idea! Cheese can talk faster than any doggo!”

Seonghwa smiled fondly at them before noticing Hongjoong’s hands, slightly wringing the bottom of his jacket as he stared at the painting. 

“Hm…would you like to go on a walk with me, Hongjoong? I’m a bit famished.” Seonghwa offered. 

Hongjoong perked and nodded, smiling. 

“Have you not eaten yet? C’mon, there’s a food court around here somewhere.” He looked towards Wooyoung and Yeonjun, but the former waved a hand kindly. 

“Go, go. I’ll bring Cheese over to the others so he can keep looking at exhibits.” He beamed. Yeonjun arched a brow at their friend, but Wooyoung hooked an arm under their arm, dragging them off before they could say a word. 

Seonghwa watched the trio go before turning his attention back to Hongjoong. 

“I’ll follow your lead.” 

Hongjoong walked through the art exhibit, only a few paces in front of Seonghwa. He slowed after a minute or two, rubbing his neck. 

“I…want to ask you something.”

“I figured you wanted to speak with me. What is it?” 

Hongjoong stopped, reaching and touching Seonghwa’s wrist over the compass mark he knew was there. 

“I…know you all, don’t I? Somehow…and you all know me.”

Seonghwa could see the frustration settle in his brow, and he knew the smaller man had probably been having the beginning pulses of a migraine. Seonghwa hummed, flipping his hand and taking Hongjoong’s. 

“I am learning a lot about you, yes. It’s very pleasant.” 

Hongjoong looked at him in confusion, staring at their hands. 

“But…That’s not what I mean. Not ‘me’ but-”

“It doesn’t matter much to me if I knew you before or if I’ve just met you now. My feelings are the same.” 

The two toned man’s eyes widened, staring at him in surprise as Seonghwa chuckled and brought his hand up to his cold cheek. 

“It’s my birthday, yes? May I be selfish and ask to enjoy this time with you without stress and worry? Even if its only for the day, whatever hard conversations may come, they can come on another.”

Hongjoong cleared his throat, feeling flustered as he moved his hand. 

“I’m going to get flustered if you talk like that.”

“Is it the worst thing if you do?” Seonghwa laughed gently and moved to the vendors selling food. Hongjoong watched him before he snapped back to reality and shuffled after him quickly. 

The two sat together, quietly people-watching as they ate some rather generously sized crepes. Hongjoong’s eyes were fixed on Seonghwa’s side profile more than the people around him, though. 

He really did look like a prince. His face was all sharp angles, yet they had a…soft quality to them that had the musician idly thinking he’d be a great idol.

“Did you do your makeup today?” He spoke without thinking and Seonghwa cut his steel gaze at him, humming as he licked creme from his lips. 

Hongjoong would admit to no one that he followed the motion like a hawk before looking back into his eyes. 

“Yeosang did. He’s learned a lot from Chungha, it seems. He was happy to try it on me so I let him. I’m not displeased.” 

“You look… really good.” 

Seonghwa chuckled and took another bite of his crepe, chewing thoughtfully. Hongjoong felt embarrassment creep into him once more. He’d asked Seonghwa to come with him, but now he was at a loss as to how to proceed now that Seonghwa had gently steered him away from prying on this whole…memory business.

Instead, he shoved a bite much too big to be considered polite into his mouth to keep himself from blurting out anything else in embarrassment. 

Seonghwa stared at him before he covered his mouth to keep himself from possibly spitting out any food as he laughed. 

“Dun lauf at meh!” Hongjoong struggled, cheeks round as his face went beet red. Seonghwa laughed harder still, joy shining in his eyes as he looked at the goofy two toned man in front of him. 

“Ah, apologies apologies. You just…you look very cute.” He smiled, one that reached his eyes as he put his head in his palm, staring at Hongjoong in a way that certainly didn’t help his flustered demeanor.  Seonghwa took in his appearance, cheeks rounded and his mismatched hair falling over his forehead as he tried to avoid his gaze.

"Küçük çizgili sincap~” 

Hongjoong blinked in confusion, swallowing his food before he squinted. He had recognized when Seonghwa had called him a small ferret before, but whatever he had said a moment ago went right over his head. 

“What did you say just now?” 

“Oh, nothing.” Seonghwa stood, a triumphant smile on his face as he turned away from him. 

“Shall we head back, küçük çizgili sincap ?”

“What are you calling me? Hey! Park Seonghwa-ya, wipe that smile off your face, what did you call me?!” Hongjoong complained, following close behind the blonde as he walked away. Seonghwa smiled, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, just something just for you.”

“What does that mean? Seonghwa? Hey, don’t speed up your paces! God, why are your legs so long- Seonghwa!!”

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Meanwhile…..

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“THAT ASSHOLE FORGOT ABOUT OUR ARRANGEMENT!”

Jeno watched as Jaemin cursed and swore up a storm, referring to the blonde ex prince. He glanced at Renjun and the man waved a hand, indicating he’d pay Jaemin’s ire no mind. 

“I’m sure there’s a good reason. Take the time to prepare.”

“I’m gonna wring their damn necks, wasting my damn time!”

Renjun rolled his eyes. 

“You’re the god of it. Just make more time.”

“Easy for you to say!”

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