#remembered a song snippet i made a while ago

[molluskmagus]

if i had a nickel for every time i wrote part of song then ages later it tied in suspiciously well to a character/event in a story i was writing, i would have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

[hivemuthur]

What was that? - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!OFC mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes

friends to lovers, co-workers, sexual tension up to the wazoo, pinning and banter that got me frustrated when I was writing it, attempt at humour, some angst and a slow burn with a happy ending and a classic Viktor for once

Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12. | Ch.13. | Ch.14. | Ch.15.

word count: 4,6K

tag: #what was that

summary: A romance that explores two insecure people growing closer together through snippets of their time at work.

author’s note: Can I post three things a day? Yes. This is the first fic I've written and I love it dearly. It connected me with @rennethen who has been beta reading it patiently and helped me create significant parts of it, and for that connection alone it was worth to write it.

Cross-posted on AO3

—

“Renly, are you being serious right now?” John stormed into the lab’s kitchen visibly flushed with anger. Renly only blinked at him, a question in her eyes.

“I guess? Didn’t you get my note?” She definitely remembered sending the note asking John to take a raincheck. She even made a song about it to not forget, like the last time. Viktor had mocked the song at first but later grew annoyed with it.

”Please stop, this song is now rotting my brain. I get it, John is a nice guy,” Viktor rotated on his chair with a groan that has clearly been building up for at least one minute.

“Sorry, it’s the only way I don’t get distracted and forget!” to Viktor’s demise, Renly sang this line as well.

“Well, didn’t you get my note?” John said, already huffing, seemingly offended. He did get her note, he did see the little heart she drew on it and a coffee stain that suggested she wrote it hastily, while doing something else with her other hand. So, he sent a passive aggressive jokey note back stating that it’s tomorrow or he doesn’t know when, because he is also oh-so-busy.

“I can’t make it otherwise,” he laid his hands apart in apologetic gesture.

“Like… this week? Or ever?” light mockery in her voice, she said with her back to John, while pouring coffee into two cups. “It’s okay, we can have breakfast here. Do you want coffee?” Renly pulled out the third cup from the sink and waved it at John expectantly.

At which point, Viktor entered their tiny lab kitchen, scrunching his wet hair with a damp towel, his cheeks flushed and clothes slightly dishevelled, clinging to his hot-after-shower body. “Do I smell coffee? Hi John,” he said, waving at the doorway.

“Nothing will hide from you. Crisis averted?” Renly asked referring to fifteen minutes ago, when Viktor banged viciously on the bathroom door, demanding shower access immediately, as he spilled suspicious fluid from Renly’s workstation all over himself.

She said it was punishment for snooping. He said she’d taken his favourite pen, and her workstation was planned ridiculously, making moving around risky. Also, she took showers that lasted forever. She said her shower was only fifteen minutes, which is perfectly within bounds of morning toilet routine. He said she should shower at home and sleep at home; otherwise, she would end up a social pariah like him and Jayce. She said it’s a bit late for that as night is a perfect time for quiet work and she is one person away from the social pariah status. She meant John. So right now, it really did look like she was close to adding it to her work signature. She had to evacuate from the bathroom before she had the chance to dry off completely, which is why her hair was wet.

“Did you shower together?” John’s tone gained additional pitch to it as he asked his ridiculous question, visibly getting more and more distressed.

“Yes, John. We also have occasional orgies that I forgot to mention,” Renly couldn’t help about the snarky comment but when she turned around to take a look at her… boyfriend? They went out about ten times and slept together twice, so she guessed he was her boyfriend already. Well, he looked hurt, and she immediately wished she didn’t say it, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

“Please, don’t be like that. I pulled an all-nighter again, and it was too late to go home. We showered separately, obviously,” she said in a softer voice as the cups were placed on the tiny table in the middle of the kitchen, only three chairs.

“I will give the two of you some space,” Viktor swept his cup with Jayce’s face on it and gave both of them polite smile as he walked out faster, than Renly thought he was able to.

“So… are you very cross with me?” she waited for Viktor to leave the area and asked reaching out to place her palm on top of John’s forearm, but he winced away.

John had always been good at making himself seem indispensable. When they first started seeing each other, his charm felt effortless—little gestures like remembering her favourite tea or distracting her with a ridiculous joke when she was too stressed to focus. She had let her guard down with him in a way she rarely allowed herself to. It had felt safe, comforting even. But lately, the cracks in that façade were harder to ignore. He got offended easily and threw some stupid accusations at her when he was out of arguments. She did admit, she was quite oblivious to some of relationship savoir-vivre, but it was also discussed priorly! And he said he doesn’t mind, so the next part caught her off-guard.

“I… don’t think this will work out this way,” he said with a sigh and waved his hand around making her question if he meant them, or breakfast with Victor in near vicinity. “I didn’t know this is what I was signing up for frankly,” he finished and gave her a sad puppy glance. This made her… angry? Of course, he knew what he was signing up for. She told him from the very beginning how important her work was. And how bad she was at this, but he just called her cute. Surely, this was enough of a warning. Or maybe it wasn’t but John really didn’t seem like he heard anything of what she ever said in the long run.

He was a Piltie, and she was from Zaun. He liked posh places that were trying to pass as casual, she liked to hang out by the riverbank in the evenings and sneak into The Undercity to look at street art and eat street food. He always seemed to pay attention to what she was telling him about her lab work and how many lives it could potentially change but at the end of every test presentation and heated one-sided conversation (it was hot on her side only) when she looked at him expectantly, he praised her with a you are so smart or you look pretty when you get excited about science and it left her empty of all air like a sad balloon in the aftermath of a party. He probably had a politician’s career ahead of him, so in the future, he would be the person to decide whether she does or doesn’t get funding for her research and in her mind’s eye John was a person that would probably happily fund something else than the medicine for long term Grey exposure symptoms. But he was a good practice for that. And despite everything else, she did like him. He had his moments, as they say.

In a few seconds, that took very long in the pocket dimension of her brain, Renly tried to calculate how much fault in this situation was hers and if it was worth to back down and give him a peace offering in form of a dinner at her place, that she would cook, and they would be alone, and it would be romantic, and he would probably get to fuck her on the dinner table.

The plan started forming itself, when John said “I mean… you spend all your free time here, or you drag me around the lanes. Also, this Viktor guy? I got over Jayce, recently he is barely here. So…” he dragged his huge eyes across her face looking for a sign of understanding that wasn’t there “…you understand how I feel when you spend most of your time with another man.” It came out weak, but he decided to stand by it.

“Another man? It’s Viktor,” she scoffed. “Not even a day ago he stated how much I disgust him with Zaunian food in fridge. He works all the time. We sleep in separate rooms. He…” Renly inhaled, exasperated by this accusation. It’s ridiculous, how insecure John was to even suggest that.

“He is a friend. And that’s all. I assure you he is not interested in me.” She had a dead serious certainty about this. If something was fixed in this universe, it was the fact that Viktor wasn’t interested in her. And she didn’t think of him that way either. Except the one time she let her mind wander, and she did. Which was a lie, because she thought that at least twice.

Once, when they met for the first time. She already knew Jayce, who made her gasp the first time she saw him. The impression passed, but friendship remained. Jayce and Viktor, freshly acquainted, were passing her classroom when a quake shook The Uppercity. It caused one of her test tubes to fall into the vial she was working on, breaking and triggering a teeny-tiny exoenergic reaction (it exploded). The hero within Jayce’s body drove him straight in to help any casualties, of which the only one was Renly, face full of colourful goo. From the floor, she glanced at Viktor walking in shortly after his partner, and she gasped, even more than when she had met Jayce. She immediately knew it was wrong to look for so long. Her suspicion was confirmed when Viktor’s expression shifted from amusement to the realization that his brief chance to present himself as more than the guy with a cane had passed. From that point forward, he was very formal with her, though he occasionally joked about history repeating itself within the academy walls.

It was a lie though, as well. She first saw Viktor by the riverbank in Zaun, as a child. She had been maybe seven, and he could have been slightly older. Her eyes, round and curious, followed him trying to chase down his mechanical ship taken by the stream. She tried to shadow him that day, but he disappeared in the mouth of a cave she was afraid to walk into. He had a smaller cane then and she thought him a magician. So, she only lingered in disbelief that their paths crossed once more and that he was, indeed, real. And also, in awe of how beautifully he has grown up. But overall, Renly counted it as a one time.

Second time, after she decided to stay at university to continue her research and teach students, they were copying the notes together and Jayce was growing more and more bored, so he kept trying to start random topics.

"I wonder if all of them are as pretty as Mel,” he said, trying to trace down beautiful Mel Medarda’s heritage while fishing for reassurance from his friends about their imminent romance.

“But maybe it’s not a rule. I mean, looking at the both of you I would say the rule for Zaun is to be full of attractive people as well,” Jayce was waffling on, and Renly grew tired of it.

“And ugly people. And short people. And tall people. And fat people, and skinny people, Jayce. It’s all just people, like in Piltover, there is no rule to here or Zaun. Initially, it’s the same city, and we all come from different places,” she said harshly not lifting her sight from the notes she was copying.

“Oh relax, it was a compliment! And I am looking for reassurance from you guys, yes,” he traced his finger down the blackboard, wiping some of the old equations away.

“Not very progressive of you, the Man of Progress. I can give you reassurance – Mel seems fine. You will be fine. You are a big boy, Jayce. But I do not need compliments, not because I’m from The Undercity, nor because I’m a woman,” Renly’s dead stare made Jayce look for help from Viktor. She gave him a pass and went back to scribbling.

“Vik, any help?”

“I’m afraid with this one I have to place myself in Renly’s corner. Even though of the two of us, I probably am the one that needs compliments,” Viktor also didn’t glance up from above his paperwork.

“No, you don’t,” Renly didn’t notice she now got the attention of both of her friends.

“You are, yourself, quite…” her mind was absent at this moment, so it was probably the other part of her that spoke the rest “…dreamy.” A second past, in which her brain caught up with her mouth and a deep shade of red bled into her cheeks and chest. She cleared her throat, stood up quickly and threw barely audible excuse me leaving the boys to exchange their looks and make their fun of her. Jayce snorted when Renly was out of hearing range and Viktor only mouthed a what was that? That was the second time, infinitely more mortifying than the first one.

“You put a lot of effort into assuring me of this, but you never once said if you are not interested in him. From where I’m standing, you are definitely not interested in me,” John’s voice broke her out of reminiscing.

Renly’s face went into stupid mode, twisting her features with disbelief. How dare he.

“Are you really saying what I’m hearing? Are you accusing me of infidelity based on your own insecurity? Have I truly given you any reason to believe I’m involved with anyone else but you? When do you think I would have time for that? Or do you actually not listen to me when I tell you about what I’m doing here and how much of my time and energy it consumes?” John’s expression grew more and more panicked as he saw how far he has overstepped.

“This is not… I didn’t…”

“What you didn’t do is think. You are the one who is not interested in me, John. You listen to me, but you do not register, nor remember anything I tell you. What do you want from me? Should I drop everything I’m doing just to dangle from your shoulder at the parties? Should I change the way I speak? Should I cut all my friends and relatives loose because they are from The Undercity? Would that make you feel secure enough?” she spat at him, becoming more and more angry with every sentence, self-winding regret fuelling her.

“Gods, this is not what I want, and you know it,” John brought his hand to the back of his neck, his voice gentler this time. “I just don’t feel like you want me around, is all,” he whispered, his words making Renly’s shoulders drop and her chest sink.

His fingers tapped an idle rhythm on the table, his eyes darting toward the adjoining lab room. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught him stealing glances at her colleagues’ workspaces, but she had always dismissed it as idle curiosity or stupid jealousy, first over Jayce, then over Viktor. Now, though, every stolen glance felt like a clue she should have picked up on sooner.

“I do,” she hesitated. “I did. I invited you to meet my people, come to my home, my work, my bed,” at which point, in the other room, Viktor—who was doing his absolute worst not to listen—squeezed a piece of chalk a little too hard, causing half of it to disintegrate into dust with a loud, whiny, bone-chilling sound that gave him goosebumps at the back of his neck. So, they slept together, great. Just great. It didn’t bother him at all, and yet… it bothered him greatly for some reason. Probably just because she will be a nightmare to be around for the next week or so.

Ridiculous, Viktor thought, though the word didn’t carry the weight he wanted it to. What did it matter who she invited into her bed? It certainly wasn’t his concern. The tightening in his chest wasn’t jealousy—it couldn’t be. No, it was irritation, that’s all. Irritation because she was so impulsive, so reckless, letting herself be distracted by someone so undeserving of her attention.

Why did it bother him? It wasn’t the first time she’d been entangled in some personal drama, and usually, he had the patience to tune it out. Yet here he was, bristling at every raised word, every pointed jab from John. It wasn’t his place to care. He had told himself years ago that people like Renly—bright, chaotic, and distractingly beautiful—were nothing but a complication. And yet, he found himself gripping his cane tighter every time John’s voice rose.

“Just realistically, I don’t think this is what you want. So, the obvious choice would be to put a pin in it until we both decide what we want,” her voice faltered. Breaking things off with John hadn’t been part of her plans for the day, and she could never have been emotionally prepared for this—especially not before breakfast. She wasn’t really breaking things off with him, either. Maybe a short, temporary break would do them good, cool things off. She fidgeted with her fingers under the table, becoming increasingly self-conscious about how much of the conversation Viktor had overheard.

“Really? So now it’s about me not respecting your Zaunian heritage, instead of you blowing me off at every opportunity?” at this point John knew that guilting her into giving it one more shot was probably his only chance. His father really wanted those hextech blueprints, and he would be very disappointed if John didn’t manage to get them. “Look, I don’t mind if we hang out here at all. But truth be told, you don’t really invite me here very often,” John said, his voice softer now, but there was an edge beneath it, like a scalpel disguised as a pen.

He had a way of twisting her words, making her feel like the selfish one for not prioritizing him more. It was a skill he wielded well, and for a moment, it almost worked. But the memory of all those little disappointments—the times he had brushed off her work as "just another experiment" or barely listened when she explained her progress—bubbled up like a pressure valve ready to burst. He did actually like her. She was his type – pretty, quirky, talented and driven. She could be a bit more elegant, but that would be polished with time. “We could make a schedule, meet here when nobody is around? Maybe you could even show me some hextech, hm?” with this, he knew he probably pushed a little bit too far, as her expression grew weary.

There it was again, that same calculated curiosity masked as casual conversation. At first, she had chalked it up to natural interest—what Piltover scholar wouldn’t want to know more about hextech? But now, with his eyes lingering too long on the blueprints and his questions steering the conversation in predictable directions, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was about more than idle fascination.

“I… you know I don’t work with hextech,” she shook her head while her brain was glueing the pieces together. “Why would you…,” and it hit her gently, prompted by the guilt painting her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend’s face. Unbelievable. When she thought about it longer, he did usually snoop around innocently while waiting for her to wrap up work. He would wander between the lab rooms, seemingly just killing time, but she saw him linger on the blueprints more than once. When she told him about her experiments, he always drove the discussion towards Viktor and Jayce’s work. How are they doing? So does this hextech actually work? And what do they want to use it for again? And he tried to pin it on her sleeping with Viktor. The audacity.

Renly wanted to believe the relationship had been real, that it hadn’t just been about her work or her connections. But as she stared at him now—his charming smile just a little too polished, his words just a little too well-placed—she realized how many times she had ignored her instincts. How often she had pushed aside the nagging thought that he didn’t see her, not really. Just the parts of her that were useful.

“So… you come here and make a scene about the note that you seemingly wrote for me and that I didn’t get. You accuse me of cheating on you with my colleague,” at which point Viktor scoffed to himself in the other room. The idea of Renly and him being a thing was laughable. She was too stubborn, too unpredictable, too... distracting. And yet, John’s misplaced jealousy had struck an uncomfortable chord. Absurd, Viktor reassured himself. If anything, she deserves better than someone like me. She deserves better than both of us.  

“You propose a solution – let’s hang out here,” Renly exhaled, and her eyes rested on her hands with the realization of being used all this time hitting her hard. She didn’t think she cared that much. Frankly, having a normal secure relationship also with someone normal and secure was a hope she didn’t dare to entertain very often. It was mostly work and friends for her. So, when John came along, she just let it happen, as maybe, she thought, it was a good thing happening to her. Realizing there was no love in it, left her feeling numb.

In the other room, Viktor stopped pretending to work and simply sat on a stool, his hands and chin resting on his cane. That was new territory, a kind of danger they hadn’t anticipated. Also, he did feel angry for Renly – annoying as she was, she really didn’t deserve this. He wondered if he should intervene and kick John out, but the act would have to be based on his authority, which as a fellow Zaunian in John’s eyes he had none. Any show of force would need to be purely verbal—calculated and precise enough to leave the boy speechless and make him back down without a fight. While he was negotiating the terms of this heroic act with himself, he heard Renly’s voice echoing across the corridors: “I think it’s best you go.”

“Can we talk this through?” one last desperate attempt on John’s side as he covered Renly’s palm with his. She slid her hand from underneath his, threw a quick no over her shoulder and stepped through a heavy metal door that separated living area form the laboratory. She locked it behind her with a loud crank and immediately sank to hug her knees. Well, shit. This wasn’t part of her plan for today. And she didn’t want to cry in front of Viktor. If Jayce was here, he’d make it better, but he was with the beautiful Mel Medarda having breakfast in her quarters, which was a secret. Viktor would make fun of her—or worse, he’d get cross for endangering their life’s work. On one side of the door, her mean ex-boyfriend, on the other her mean niggling friend. She could just stay here.

“Do you need help getting up?” Viktor’s voice made her gasp and release the tears that were gathering under her eyelids, now streaming down her cheeks. And just to be clear, they were angry tears, not sad pathetic tears.

“Maybe,” Renly said, wiping her face with a sleeve, unable to bring herself to look him in the eye. She accepted his offered hand, which was about to pull her up. Unfortunately, the sudden movement sent a cramp shooting down Viktor’s calf, leaving Renly standing while he folded in half.

“Oh shit, Viktor I’m sorry, let me grab a stool!”

“Ah, no need. It’s fine. Just a cramp, it’ll stretch,” he panted, sliding down the corridor wall. She crouched down by him, question in her eyes about what to do.

“Well, where is it? I can… rub it out?” she heard herself saying and a darker shade of pink flushed her already enflamed cheeks. Viktor noticed. Her hands were faster than her brain this time and she already had his calf in her grasp, looking for the knot.

The warmth of her hands startled him, a flicker of something unwanted creeping into his thoughts. He shut it down immediately. She’s just helping. Don’t make it into something it isn’t. But the gentleness of her touch lingered longer than it should have, and when she looked up at him, her face flushed with concentration, he had to look away. Focus, Viktor. This means nothing.

“How did you get this so bad, Viktor?” she gasped at the state of her friend’s muscle, contracted like a rusty hinge. Her eyes full of concern, and some guilt. She made him uncomfortable in his own lab, because of some stupid drama. Stupid, yet it tore a hole in her heart.

Viktor remembered this look. He remembered the way she had looked at him back when they first met—not the awestruck gaze she reserved for Jayce, but something deeper, sharper. It had unnerved him. People always noticed the cane first; it was a fact he had come to accept. But she had looked past it—no, she had lingered on it, and he wasn’t sure whether it was curiosity, pity, or something else entirely. It didn’t matter now. He had decided long ago to keep her at a polite distance.

“Too much sitting down, ah!” he gasped when more pressure was applied “I tried to work through your… quarrel,” Viktor’s voice grew breathier, his eyebrows pinching together. Absent-mindedly, he placed his right hand on Renly’s shoulder and closed his eyes, letting his body relax into her touch. She was very careful, almost… affectionate.

“I guess this would fuel John’s theory,” he chuckled slightly, forgetting himself. Did he just admit that something was possible? Renly was too focused on getting rid of the knot to notice the awkward grunt following this sentence, and without much thought to it she said, “don’t be ridiculous.”

Something sunk in Victor’s chest hearing that. Of course, it was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. All of it. He was about to figure out how to run away, take his leg with him and tell her this is good enough, when she continued.

“I mean, we are not responsible for someone’s insecurities. I refuse to be. Also, as I presume you heard all of it, you will know that it was all a play,” she put so much attention into rubbing Viktor’s calf that the words just went out of her mouth. “Just to get his hands on hextech. So, I’m guessing this accusation was also fabricated to guilt me. Or he was obsessed with you. Which I understand… gotcha!” she exclaimed as the muscle relaxed under her fingers, and Viktor gave an involuntary moan, making both of them flush slightly.

The tension in his calf eased, but his chest felt impossibly tight. He was about to thank her—briefly, formally—when the look on her face stopped him. She was glowing, not with the self-satisfaction he often associated with Jayce, but with genuine care. It was infuriating. No, not infuriating—irrelevant. Why do you even notice these things? he scolded himself, rising awkwardly to his feet and turning away before the warmth in her eyes could undo him further.

“Forgive me, I… thank you,” was all he was able to say.

“That’s… it’s nothing, no worries.”

“I believe you know this, but in case you don’t—he’s a donkey, and you’re brilliant, yes?” Viktor tossed over his shoulder. “Ah, I��m not… thank you,” she said, standing in the corridor, confused, her face burning. What was that?

[unhonest-iago]

Earworm

Denki was constantly annoyed at his soulmate. Their connection was through music; he could hear every song that stuck in their head and vice versa. Unfortunately for Denki, anytime they discovered a new band, they'd listen to it for weeks to months on end. And then when the new one replaced the old, they started to remember some of the instrumentals again.

An incorrect snippet of the lyrics. Which then fills his brain on repeat to the point he's randomly humming it himself but has nothing to go on. It was never a song he knew, unable to help. Not that he could, he didn't even know who his soulmate was or if they even went to U.A.

'Buh ba-buh ba-buh,' Reader drums their fingers along their desk to the melody flowing through their mind. Sitting next to Hitoshi in class 1-B who had learned long ago how to tune them out. He had discovered that using his quirk just prolonged the torture for their soulmate. Only amplifying the noise level, forcing Reader to non-verbally process their thoughts.

'I'm with you, always,' trying to figure out the lyrics as he jotted down notes, unaware of the blond in class 1-A who wanted to electrocute himself. 'My love is on your side. I’m with you always.’

'What's wrong with dunce face?' Katsuki asks Eijirou when Denki flat out ignores him. Overstimulated by his soulmate, who is a few doors away. 'His soulmate is having another earworm,' laughing at his friend's misery. 'Denki, you could just hum another song to drown them out.' The internal aspect implied. 'Ugh, last time I did that, their brain made a stupid mash up,' groaning, Denki drops his head onto his arms. Cushioning it from hitting the hard wood of the desk.

‘Just look up the fucking song,’ if he could retaliate, he would’ve chosen the part from Kesha’s your love is my drug; banging my head against the wall. It was annoying that the one means of communication they had was bloody song lyrics. Luckily for Denki, the bell for lunch rang.

Both class 1-A and class 1-B now walking down to the cafeteria. Reader had finally remembered a bit of the chorus, ‘there’s a darkness at the heart of my soul, runs cold, runs deep.’ Reader’s packing up their stuff while Hitoshi walked ahead. Denki walking past the classroom, heard them humming. Stopping dead in his tracks, confusing Eijirou and Bakugou. He bursts through the door, ‘You!!’ Pointing at them. ‘You’re the reason why that song has been playing through my head on loop!’

‘Oh, shit. That’s right, the soulmates thing,’ they had completely forgotten about that. Some of their friends had already found their soulmates. Reader had thought that it would be wise to not fret over it when entering U.A. Not wanting it to get in the way of their hero training. ‘What do you mean the soulmates thing?’

‘Wait, the gummy bear song! That was you?’ Remembering how the song had gotten stuck in their head, but couldn’t recall where they had heard it from. ‘Was trying to get back at you. It didn’t work.’

‘But seriously, you didn’t know?’ Denki’s so confused. He’s glad to finally know who has been controlling the stereo inside his head. Finding out that they did in fact go to U.A. and seemed to be a quirk users. He was still a little pissed. But the main feeling was confusion, thinking they had never heard about soulmates. Which couldn’t be the case. ‘Oh, no, I know about soulmates. Simply thought I’d run into mine eventually. Didn’t want it to distract from all the hero stuff.’

Denki decides ‘fuck it,’ and pushed his conflicting emotions to the wayside. Now wanting to know more about them. ‘Well, we’ve met. Hi, I’m Denki and we’re hanging out for lunch,’ quickly grabbing Reader by the hand and directing them towards the cafeteria. ‘Name’s y/n. In case you wanted to know, mr kidnapper.’

[you-til-i-die]

wishin’ I could write my name on it

f.odair x fem!reader

summary: a sneak peak into you and finnick’s lives

warnings/content: I wrote and edited this all in one sitting so if it’s absolute shit that’s why<3 district four victor!r, r is said to have throw up a few times, but none of it is graphic. mentions of blood and sex trafficking, cannon-typical shit really, swearing

song: august - ts

wc: 1.9k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

You and Finnick have one rule.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask about it. Don’t acknowledge it.

When the two of you are together, you can just forget about it. You can hang out on the beaches of District Four and pretend like these aren’t your lives.

But they are.

And it always somehow seeps through the cracks.

It’s in the way Finnick’s eyes are dull and empty the first few days after a trip to the capitol.

It’s in the way your laugh has morphed into a short bark.

It’s everywhere and it’s everything.

There’s no escaping it.

It haunts your dreams, it probably haunts Finnick’s too, even though you’d never ask.

Because that’s the rule. No asking. Ever.

————————————————————————

It was August. The sun seemed to slowly be getting the message that fall was getting nearer, the rays a little less intense then they had been a few weeks ago. The water was even the tiniest bit cooler, soothing a stubborn sunburn on your shoulders.

You were laying on the beach, face down on a towel, trying to ignore the stick of salt drying on your skin. You can’t help but let out a yawn, exhausted from the still persistent heat and trying to win against Finnick in a swimming race all day.

You were so relaxed. Focusing on the waves crashing against the shore. And the presence beside you that you knew was Finnick.

You honestly were about to fall asleep before he speaks. He mentions it so casually, he might as well have been asking what you wanted for dinner.

“Snow needs me in the capitol. I’m leaving on Friday.”

His voice is completely flat, devoid from all of its usual humor. It made you nauseous. You consider asking if he feels the same way, but you don’t. That was the rule. And you know the rules.

You push yourself up onto your elbows to get a good look at him, to try and decipher the look on his face. You could almost always read him. You hadn’t spent four years attached to each other to not learn the subtle mannerisms of the other. But this was different. It always was.

You and Finnick could talk about almost anything together. The games, the fear that you could never seem to shake, the nightmares, the way it was sometimes hard to stomach killing even a fish. But you never talk about this.

You never talk about how Snow will whisk one, or sometimes both, of you away whenever he needs a favor. You never tell him how afterwards you have to scrub your entire body raw before you can even begin to feel clean again. You don’t tell him how the first couple of times you would sob until you threw up, but now you just curl up and do your best to avoid the pit in your stomach.

Well, truthfully, you had talked about it once. But never again.

You had just been crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, District Four’s second victor in four years. It was no surprise, really. You were seventeen, and one of the oldest in the arena. You were strong, quick, and smart. So, so smart. You had won through pure trickery, and everyone loved you for it.

It’s hard for you to remember what happened the week after you won. There’s little snippets, of course. Looking down at the blood on your hands, blood that wasn’t yours. The booming of a voice in the arena, announcing that you were the victor. You had won. You did it. You had made District Four proud. And then you threw up.

You must have blacked out afterwards, because the next thing you remember is being back in your suite in the training center, sobbing in Finnick’s arms while he held you. Most of what you can remember is centered around him. Gripping onto his hand like a lifeline while your stylists buzzed around you. Glancing over Snow’s shoulder at him while the president crowned you. Watching him standing in the wings of the stage while Ceasar Flickerman went over a highlight reel of your time in the arena. Finding your way back into his arms on the train. You’re pretty sure Finnick didn’t say more than the same couple words the first week. It seemed to be a constant variation of “I know honey, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

It wasn’t until your victory tour that he told you. You doubt he ever would have, if he didn’t know for sure it would happen to you.

He had sat you down on the train after a party in District Two and told you everything. How Snow would practically sell him to people. How he didn’t have a say, and how you wouldn’t either, unless you wanted everyone you loved to be dead. He had grabbed your hands, shaking hand in shaking hand, and apologized profusely. He told you how he would do everything possible to keep you safe, he would offer himself instead of you. But you knew that wouldn’t work. Snow gets what Snow wants, and if Snow wants you to fuck his friends for some sick favor, there was nothing you, or Finnick, could do to stop that from happening.

“Oh.”

“Yah.” Was all Finnick said, refusing to meet you gaze as he stared out at the ocean. He’s working one of the muscles in his jaw and you have to look away before you grab his face and do something stupid.

“When will you be back?” You don’t say it, but you’re sure he understands the meaning. Please say it’ll only be one night. Please tell me they won’t put you through it more than once this time. Please tell me you’ll be back to hold me through the nightmares soon. Please don’t make me wait for you more than I already do.

“I’m not sure. Snow said a couple of days.”

No no no no no no no please no.

You didn’t respond. Scared that if you open your mouth the bile collecting in your throat would spill out.

You just look over at him. Take him in. It’s no wonder why the capitol loves him so much. Although not for his humor, his kindness, his strength, the way he’s always looking out for everyone but himself. None of that. Just because he’s a pretty face. But in the bright, golden sun, you find it hard to disagree with them. He’s all broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Bright green eyes that always seem to shine when they look at you. Sharp teeth hiding behind that perfect fucking smile. Salty hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Credit where credit is due, the capitol knows how to pick a sex symbol.

But you don’t see a sex symbol. Not right now. Right now all you see is the person you want to hold on to, and never let go of. The person you’d throw it all away for, if he asked. The person who seemed to always have another layer for you to work your way into, but you’d be damned if you ever stopped trying to get to the root of him.

You’ve been staring for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Finnick notices, of course, because Finnick notices everything.

“Honey?”

You tear your eyes away from where they had been tracing the veins in his hands. “Hm?”

“You ok?” And there it is. That fucking wolf smile. All sharp canines and slightly raised eyebrows because he knows. He knows he’s got you in between his teeth and he knows you’re happy to stay there because it’s him.

You pause, but just for a moment, trying not to give him the satisfaction of winning, of successfully flustering you. But his eyes are boring into yours and it’s so hard to look away from him, but you do. He wins. He normally does.

“‘M just thinking.”

“What about?” He asks. Flopping down on his side, trying to get on eye level with you because it’s never just enough for him to win, he has to make sure you know that he knows it.

You just roll your eyes at him, there’s nothing else you can do.

“About how we’ve been out here since nine in the morning and it’s after noon now, and you haven’t reapplied sunscreen once.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes now.

“I don’t burn, honey, you know that.”

“What about that time you were out all day, didn’t put sunscreen on once, and then I had to rub aloe vera on your back for a week because you burned like hell and all of your skin was peeling off?” You ask, smile working its way onto your face. You know you’ve got him. You’re winning now.

He pauses, he doesn’t back down easily. “It was a fluke. A glitch, even.” He says, trying his best to shrug his shoulders even though he’s lying down. He fails. It looks ridiculous. You have to try not to laugh. “I honestly think the sun just had a vendetta against me that day.”

You’re failing at biting back a smile now. “At least let me get your back because there is literally nothing you could say or do to ever get me to help you with a third degree sunburn again.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a big show of groaning and rolling his eyes at you before rolling onto his back.

You’ve won.

“So dramatic? You know that? It’s like being friends with a child.” You say as you root around in your bag for your sunscreen. Trying to ignore the disgusting feeling you know it will leave on your hands as you squirt it out.

He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, surely about to counter with some story about you being much more dramatic than him, before you shove him back down, face in the sand.

“Ow.”

“You’re fine. A little sand never killed anyone.”

You decide to ignore his grumbling, focusing on spreading the sunscreen on his back. However, you can’t ignore the growing pit in your stomach that you know will be there until Finnick’s back from the capitol.

Still, they can’t take this from you. You’ve earned it. You deserve to be here, definitely not checking out your best friend who you know you can’t have.

You lose yourself for a moment. Letting yourself focus on the way his muscles feel under your hands. Maybe, one day, this could be real. The capitol will find new, attractive victors, and they’ll move on. You and Finnick can fade into the background, and just live.

You pull back, and grab the tube again, squirting it directly on his back. You start to rub it in before pausing for a moment, why not?

Quickly, you write your name in the sunscreen on his back. Snow has cameras everywhere. Maybe he’s watching. Maybe he’s not. But either way, at least for a second, you can say mine. All mine. You can’t take him from me, not really.

He feels it, lifting his head up just as you’re wiping away the evidence.

“Are you drawing on my back?”

You flash him your own smile. A little less wolfish, a little more coy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

A/n: Hi omg I wrote this in one sitting😭this has just been rattling around in my head for weeks now and I had to get it out lol. Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoyed<3

[chcrryade]

ERR.. ARE YOU SURE HE WAS HERE BEFORE?

Yes, you idiot! He’s been here since the start! Can’t you remember? ⠀⸻⠀ HAE JIHU ( 하지후 ) was once the eleventh, then later the tenth member of Kpop boy group LOOPiN, housed first under New Wave Music both before & after its split with Blockberry Creative, and then later Rare Rhythm. First debuting with the solo ‘GO BACK’ in the first week of November 2018 as part of the original ‘Boy Of The Week’ project ( that was intended to mirror their once-sister group LOONA ), he finally came together with the rest of the group in August 2019.

AN ETERNAL LIFE IS NOT A PERFECT LIFE.

You wake up. You get ready. You go to work. The same people greet you on the way, the same stores and the same cars and the same buildings all line the same streets you walk down. You do the same things on your same computer in your same cubicle as you did yesterday, as you did a week ago, as you’ve done since this all began. You eat the same thing when you get back home, flip through the same TV channels, and go to bed at the same time that night. You’ve always been here. This is just your place. Stuck. Some go forward, and others back, but you’re just here. And you’ll never be anywhere else. ⠀⸻⠀ a fan’s analysis on JIHU’s place in The Looplore, circa 2021.

( 知夏. KNOWING SUMMER. )⠀⠀Born into a household that was so loud it was a struggle and a half to get a word in edgeways, Jihu has always felt he’s just been.. There. The quiet one in the corner, watching everything as it passes. And really, it was only a matter of time before the walls started closing in too much, before he felt as if he was going to start cracking right down the middle if he didn’t do something soon, if he didn’t do something fast—and that was how he ended up in the auditions room, racing against a clock that wasn't really there. That didn’t change even when he was given his place in the group, always too ready to run at the slightest inkling that he’s about to go back to the one forgotten, the one left behind. He’ll move until there’s no ground left beneath his feet, and even then he’ll claw at the air on the way down.⠀⠀( ILL-CONSIDERED. OVEREAGER. FERVANT. BENEVOLENT. I BELONG here. I can’t tell you how good that feels. )

GIVEN NAME Hae Jihu.⠀OTHER ALIASES Jiha (nickname).⠀BIRTHDATE 17 / 02 / 01.⠀PROFESSION idol, songwriter.⠀GROUP POSITIONS vocalist, sub rapper.⠀ETHNICITY Korean.⠀NATIONALITY South Korean.⠀FACE CLAIM Choi Jiung.

LET THE MUSIC DO THE TALKING.

WAKE UP ╱ LET’S LEAVE is a double-sided single released by the sub-unit ‘LOOPiN HERE&THERE,’ made up of members JIHU and O.Z. Released in early June 2023, both tracks were written as a collaborative effort between them, with the production mostly falling on the latter’s shoulders while JIHU only accompanied in the final mastering of the two tracks. The singles were accompanied by a short MV, more of a collection of colourful scenes than any coherent storyline, and were what JIHU referred to as a ‘passion project,’ although whether he meant for him or for both of them was unclear.

While he’s not officially part of nor particularly affiliated with the produce line, Jihu still dabbles in it—but mostly in his own time. His tendency to leave projects half-finished, always jumping from one thing to the next as soon as the next strike of inspiration hits, isn’t always one that meshes well with his fellow group members. All of these snippets, however long, live on his SoundCloud, underneath the username ‘baejha17.’ Some of these capsules of split-second thought and feeling include ‘holdOn,’ ‘COMI,’ ( with J.J taking up the bulk of the vocals ) and ‘되감기’ ( meaning rewind ). He hasn’t had an official solo debut other than his 2018 release ‘GO BACK’ before the group was properly formed, but the ( occasionally incomplete ) songs had been coming thick and fast throughout most of 2024, only petering out towards the end, and that seemed to have satisfied those wanting a full own-project enough for the time being.

WAIT A MiNUTE.. STOP! RECORD SCRATCH!

APRIL 2025.⠀Posted without warning, without explanation. It got people talking, had them confused—and just as much, theorising. An official solo debut? A campaign announcement? ( Although, when asked for what, those who’d suggested the idea came up short ). Are you even real? The line, for some, felt like a callback to the long-abandoned Looplore, and so many an old analysis on all of the loosely-tied-together content was dug back up again so they could comb over it, desperate to find something within it that they may have missed; something that may give them the answer to this singular ( and unhelpfully blank ) jigsaw piece placed before them.

Back in the same place on the same day doing the same things. It starts to mess with your mind, after a while. What are you doing all of this for, anyway? Why can’t you just—not? Would it really be so bad to walk down the wrong streets, skip work, eat out for the night? Come on, you know you want to. What do you mean, you’re not allowed? Break out. Prove your existence, even if you’re the only one who’ll know about it. They’re going back, or moving forward, and you’re left to watch. This might be your only chance. ⠀⸻⠀ fan-theory on the thought process behind AYER?

So.. What was it? Well. When there’s a glitch on your screen, a crack in the system ( someone’s broken out, someone’s taken the chance ), then I guess you’ll know. But for now, you can only wonder.

insp⠀profile⠀music format⠀love u LOOPiN !!!!!!!!! 💗

[7grandmel]

Rip of the week: 20/01/2025

Watching Spongebob and Kirby Super Star

Season 8 No Album Release (Read More) Cocoa Cave (US Version) - Kirby Super Star

Ripped by PBandJam

Many years ago, during its first-ever Season, SiIvaGunner released the rip Light Plane (Krabby Mix); a rip that I, in my review and analysis of it just a few weeks ago, described as perhaps the best SpongeBob-related rip of its time. Utilizing a simple concept, a recognizable song, and an immediately identifiable and funny source all at once, Philiponbread created an all-time classic using naught but the bare essentials. Yet writing that post got me thinking of what lies on the opposite end of the spectrum; what would qualify as the best SpongeBob rip of TODAY, one made with years upon years of refinement in ripping prowess? Part of that thought process was, of course, also motivated by remembering how Season 8 in particular had an entire SpongeBob event occur during it, which gave my question more answers than I could have ever hoped for. There were tons of possible picks I could have had for today's post, but ultimately it was Watching Spongebob and Kirby Super Star that stuck with me most; standing out as the clearest expression of just how far SpongeBob-posting has come in the years since Light Plane (Krabby Mix).

Indeed, while Light Plane (Krabby Mix) was moreso teetering on the edge of being a YTPMV though its approach of pitch-shifting one snippet of audio alongside the original track's music, Watching Spongebob and Kirby Super Star is almost overwhelmingly maximalistic in its approach as evident from just the first few seconds. Despite all falling under the same umbrella term, the art of making YTPMV covers so many different approaches; For instance, there's rips like (YTPMV) Bob​-​Omb Battlesources which give a sense of ping-ponging between different sources by the second, while rips like Going Somewhere Jerma? and Everything Circus use a consistent, themed set of sources throughout their entire runtime. All YTPMVs are, in some form, rearrangements, which rips like Chillin' Like A Villain and its WANO-ilk embrace to a point where that underlying chaos that defines the genre almost starts to disappear from that equation. At the direct opposite of that almost elegant style or arrangement, then, we find the embodiment of said chaos, the definition of the aforementioned maximalism; with rips like my dearly beloved Crompton Racing, or indeed, Watching Spongebob and Kirby Super Star. Like rearrangement rips, every part of the original song is taken into consideration – Lead, bass, percussion, etc. – yet, rather than the approach of unassuming coherence, these are the kinds of rips that lean wholesale into cacophany; using as many sources of as many different kinds as possible, each source being picked out on a "what would be funny"-like basis. From there it's effectively just a matter of how hard the YTPMVer wants to dial in; into total insanity along the lines of LAST YTPMV​^​2 OF 2016, or into something that still holds on to a shred of sanity.

The most standout thing about Watching Spongebob and Kirby Super Star beyond its broad-strokes direction is the care taken in the sources used; what at first appears like a cacophany of sources taken everywhere from SpongeBob itself to funny online videos and memes, soon clicks as all being under one theme; It's ALL SpongeBob posting. The percussion and bass are from the SpongeBob movie and show respectively, yes; but the TikTok that plays as the lead melody, an all-time favorite source of mine, is very specifically connected to SpongeBob as well, containing the lyric "Chilling on the weekend like usual / Watching SpongeBob and Scooby Dooby Doo". The high-tempo soundscape of Kirby music being used as the framework for all of these sources to fit into has an almost inherently comedic value to it, in a way I've alluded to back on rips like Kirby Joins the Circus!; it's the kind of whimsical soundscape that elevates YTPMV sources to sounding even more absurdly funny than they already are. As mentioned, the Gym Music TikTok source is one of my most cherished sources of all time, and the realization that it was eligible for SpongeBob day through seeing this rip made me embarrassingly giddy, only emphasized by how much fun the pitch shifting on it became through being aligned with Cocoa Cave's melody. This pattern only continues throughout the rip; The sudden appearance of the Whip and Nae Nae of Whip Fortress fame baffled me at first brush, only for the visuals remind me that, oh RIGHT - Silento DID make a Nickelodeon-themed (SpongeBob included) Whip and Nae Nae variant for Labour Day Weekend!

This all follows what I think, crucially, most separates SpongeBob rips of today from SpongeBob rips of yesteryear; The sources have gone from being in tribute to just SpongeBob itself to also referencing so many parts of SpongeBob's meme culture. Of all cartoons in the world, perhaps only The Simpsons rivals the absolute outreach that the Sponge has on internet posting; So many quotes, so many clips, so many gifs and so many absurd videos have been shared and made and posted in tribute to the show. Light Plane (Krabby Mix) was only truly scratching the surface, of just one of SpongeBob's many many many holds it has on the internet world; every little source from Watching Spongebob and Kirby Super Star – the knee-slap percussion, the stepping-on-the-beach song, the NO-NO-NO-NO!'s, the use of that one Patrick soundbyte that Sans Undertale's voice was sampled from – feels like it can be mentally traced back to some week, month or year on the internet, be it social media or YouTube or forums or discord, where it was THE funny thing to be sharing. It took until a rip like this, so dense with audio information all layered atop one another in a way that teeters on the incomprehensible whilst remaining a genuinely fun listen, for me to realize just how MUCH SpongeBob has its roots in the internet world.

PBandJam is a ripper that doesn't strike often, but has a damn good grasp of what he's doing; with this and Wind Scene (Short Version) - Chrono Trigger alone he pretty much immediately cemented SpongeBob Day as one I'll remember even as someone who hasn't really watched much of the show. There's something to be said about that attachment I still hold to SpongeBob, despite not growing up with it, despite not getting that same nostalgic kick out of Ocean Man and CG Man HD Remastered Edition as everyone else, but because the means in which he's been wielded by the internet is one that feels timelessly appealing. Lots of the sources in Watching Spongebob and Kirby Super Star are ones you could call stupid bullshit; But it's stupid bullshit that I and millions of others got to be part of and laugh alongside during its moments of online relevance. And isn't that feeling, truly, what SiIvaGunner is all about?

[pixiemage]

I’ve recently re-read your magebound au and was wondering if you had anymore snippets you would be willing share :)/nf

Ahhh hi! I'm glad you enjoyed it!!!

I honestly love that AU so much. I really need to get back to it when I can; there are a LOT of people whose stories I have planned out in my head, I just haven't had time to work on them hah.

That being said, if you're curious to see a character I haven't posted anything for yet, I HAVE been working a little scene in recent weeks for a prompt I got a while back. I made an MCYT Playlist Prompt two months ago, and then I immediately got busy after making it and didn't have time to do it lol...but this request from @i-am-oshawott caught my attention:

[Playlist D, Track 3] Magebound - "My Heart is Split" by Kerrigan Lowdermilk

It's a song I associate with Grian in this AU, for obvious reasons once you listen to it and read what I have written for it so far! <3 Enjoy!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(...)

Grian felt as though perhaps he should be more grateful. If it weren’t for Mumbo, he was sure he never would have survived out there alone in the woods, as injured as he’d been after escaping the Watcher Coven. The fact that someone had found him and brought him to safety was a blessing in and of itself.

The Hermits were kind too, kind and a little kooky…the best kind of company to keep, in Grian’s opinion. Xisuma had been more than welcoming and Stress had been a spot of upbeat and chaotic positivity as she helped him heal. His wings were almost back to flight-ready thanks to False’s advice, and with the potions Joe Hills had been brewing for him, his magical core was finally feeling closer to normal than it had in years.

(Not that it would ever be normal again, as much as he hated to acknowledge it. The experiments the Watcher Coven had performed on him to strengthen his magic in order to better their own…he was sure it was practically irreversible. The most Joe’s potions could do was help him stabilize so he could regain full control over his magic again. For that, he would always be thankful.)

But back to the point…he thought perhaps he should be more grateful for all the Hermits had done for him, all the kindness and care they had provided in his time under their protection. But…something was missing.

Or rather, Grian was missing something.

He missed his home. He missed his flock. He missed the Evolution community and the mages that resided there, the other familiars like him who he had grown up with, and the witches and hybrids that he’d come to call his family. Martyn and BigB and Taurtis and the rest…

And Jimmy and Pearl. Grian heaved a sigh and drew his knees to his chest where he was sitting on the front stoop of Mumbo’s home. He rested his cheek on his knees and gazed unseeingly out over the lawn. He probably missed his siblings the most. Pearl may not have been a blood relative, but she was as close to a sister as he’d ever had, and up until the Watchers had taken him Grian couldn’t remember a day he hadn’t spent alongside his little brother Jimmy.

It had been years since then. Jimmy wasn’t a teenager anymore, was he? He’d probably lost all the juvenile plumage in his familiar form, and Grian hadn’t been there to see it.

…but Jimmy was still alive at least, and for that, Grian would gladly give another thousand days in captivity if it required.

The door creaked open behind him, but Grian didn’t bother moving.

“Oh! Grian! Hullo, I was just about to look for you.” A shadow fell over Grian and he glanced up to see Mumbo leaning over him, a small smile peeking out from beneath his mustache.

“It is lunch already?” Grian asked, wondering how long he’d actually been outside, but Mumbo shook his head.

“Not quite, mate,” he told him. He sidestepped Grian and trotted down the front steps. He must have been working on some invention or another because he was missing his jacket and tie, and Grian could see red smudges on his rolled-up shirtsleeves. “Xisuma just sent me a message. He’s got a surprise for you at the center of the village. C’mon.”

Grian made a face at Mumbo’s extended hand.

“I don’t like surprises,” he whined, his one unbandaged wing slumping against his back. “Can’t you just tell me what it is?”

“Sorry buddy, X didn’t say.” At least Mumbo looked apologetic about it. “I’ll stick with you though. If you wanna duck on out, I can cause a distraction.”

Grian pondered this. It seemed like a fair enough offer. So with a very put-upon sigh Grian took the offered hand, letting Mumbo drag him to his feet amid Grian’s undertone grumbling.

“It had better be a good distraction,” Grian told him flatly after a moment of silent walking. “Lots of flair and pizzaz.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Mumbo nodded. “I can do pizzaz. I’m Mr. Pizzaz. Mr. Mumbo Flair-Pizzaz Jumbo. Master of distraction.”

Grian had to fight against the grin that threatened to overtake his expression.

“Good to know I’ve got an expert,” he quipped, hearing the laughter under his own words. “Does Mr. Pizzaz have a business card? I’d love to recommend you to my friends.”

“Yup! Definitely!” Mumbo said, mirth starting to seep into his voice. “Business cards by the boatload. I could get you one the second we’re back at my place. They’ve got - ya know - glitter, and beveled edges, and everything–”

“Glitter?” Grian gaped at him, finally letting out a proper laugh. “Who puts glitter on business cards?”

“Well - well Mr. Pizzaz, obviously,” Mumbo chuckled brightly, his mustache curling upward with his grin. “Careful around him, it’s infectious. Once you go glitter you never go back–”

Grian snorted and fell into giggles, rolling his eye at his newfound friend. It was a shame they hadn’t met sooner. Their senses of humor were such a perfect fit…and in the aftermath of the horrors he’d endured at the hands of the Watchers, Mumbo had become an unignorable bright spot amid the shadows.

Perhaps Xisuma had seen it from the start. Perhaps he’d placed Grian in Mumbo’s care for that very reason.

They were approaching the center of the village by now, and Grian felt his feathers stand on end against his will. He didn’t like the unpredictable. He used to, he was sure he used to - he was certain surprises once held a good connotation once upon a time - but as it stood the unpredictable had come to mean danger in recent years. The unexpected held too much risk, too much fear. Perhaps Mumbo could tell that his humor had only been a half-successful distraction because the back of his hand brushed against Grian’s, an awkward attempt at comfort.

“Like I said,” Mumbo told him in an undertone, “if you need out you let me know, an’ we’ll go. But whatever X has got planned can’t be bad. Right?”

Grian nodded stiffly. Right. Right. Xisuma had been nothing but kind. They all had, really. He took a deep, shaking breath and tried to reign in his anxiety. He had nothing to fear here. It was called a Sanctuary for a reason.

…voices met his ears. Bright voices. Painfully familiar voices. Grian’s breath caught in his lungs and he swallowed past a lump in his throat, his eyes widening and a fragile, careful hope welling in his chest.

They rounded the corner. Sun-yellow feathers caught his eye, and he froze…and it was suddenly very difficult to breathe.

Jimmy was there by the fountain, taller than the last time Grian had seen him, with shorter hair and longer limbs and a little less of the boyish look he’d had as a teen. His wings were on full display - properly grown in now, though his feathers were just a tiny bit messy - and he was slightly turned away from Grian. He was bickering with Martyn - Martyn - over something Grian couldn’t make out, the feathers around his ears flared. Martyn looked older too, though somehow exactly the same, the same familiar fond exasperation on his face as he spoke with Jimmy that Grian had seen hundreds of times. There was a tension in his brow too, one that matched Jimmy’s, one that matched Pearl’s. Pearl was there too, a rich red traveling cloak hanging around her shoulders that Grian remembered had once belonged to her aunt. She was less animated than Martyn or Jimmy, her arms folded tight over her chest as she chewed on her nails, glancing between them silently.

She was the first to spot Grian.

Pearl’s eyes landed on him and Grian could hear her gasp from across the courtyard, catching the attention of Martyn and then Jimmy in quick succession. They turned to follow her eye and fell immediately silent, their expressions shifting through too many emotions for Grian to even try and decipher. Not that it even mattered. They were here. They were real. They were–

“Grian,” Pearl breathed, and it was like a spell broke.

“Grain!” Jimmy was running toward him in an instant with the others hot on his heels, and Grian met him in the middle on unstable legs. He and his brother crashed together in an engulfing hug on impact, clinging to each other like a lifeline, with the desperation of those who feared the other would vanish if they even dared to let go. Pearl crowded in on the right and Martyn on the left, a warm hand on his shoulder and another on his arm and fingers clinging to the sweater on his back.

Grian sobbed before he even knew he was crying, shaking in Jimmy’s arms and not caring that he was probably leaving damp patches of tears on the shoulder of his brother’s shirt. He didn’t care.

They were here. They were alive. They were okay. It was all worth it.

“I can’t believe it,” Martyn choked out, an emotional laugh in his words. “When they told us they found you, I didn’t - I could hardly believe it. We’ve been looking for so long–”

“Told you he’d make it,” Jimmy said shakily. “I told you. I did. I said–” His breath hitched and his wings shuddered, curling forward around the little group where Grian’s one unbandaged wing had fallen slack. “–I said ‘He’s Grian, he’d never give up. He’s stronger ‘n that.’ And I was right. I was - I was right.”

Grian chuckled wetly, weakly, unsteadily, leaning into his flock and burying himself in the feeling of home.

(...)

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

Seven snippets, seven people

Was tagged by @lonsdalewrite forty bazillion years ago, finally have enough material and spoons to actually share stuff. Thank you for the tag!!

Gonna do the elf marriage wip (Nettle and Song if you're pretentious (and I am)) cuz it's the freshest one

Tagging (lmk if you want off this ride or onto it)

@hanna-writes, @nabanna, @croaceian, @angelofthemornings, @descent-of-stars

@rrrawrf-rewrites, @scribble-dee-vee, @forthesanityofsome @meanceclosetohell and YOUUUUUUU!

Putting the snippets under a cut cuz I can't be bothered to edit them rn but I might feel up for it later also it got kinda long oops

1

“Relax. As long as you don’t murder anyone, these talks will be the most peaceful interaction we’ve had with humans since the war ended,” Del mumbled while they waited. “It’ll be fine even if you don’t speak. Or smile. Or make any sort of positive impression.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure they’ll love giving their princess away to the meanest-looking asshole in the Given Earth.”

“Meanest-looking? No-no, dear prince, you’re a pretty elf boy. Humans find elves irresistible, you know. Just pout and bat your little eyelashes, and they’ll let you get away with just about anything.

Roel grimaced, hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.

“Wonderful.”

2

Mother sat down next to Teddy, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Nobody can force you to marry against your will, Theodosia. No matter who says what, no matter the so-called political benefits or diplomacy. You are not cattle to be traded.”

Mother glared at Elias, who winced, “Stop. I didn’t bring Teddy up to trade her.”

“Then why did you?”

“And why not? Is this better? What’s left for her here, where she’s not allowed into the royal palace without an invitation? Where her own mother and siblings can’t see her without sneaking behind the king’s back like criminals? She didn’t do anything wrong!”

3

“Ted? Is everything alright?”

He put rubbed her back gently. It made the tears sting harder, and she blinked them away stubbornly. If people noticed Efra, they’d notice her and her expression, and that would lead to gossip. Better to have the elves be the main talking point rather than the queen’s rejected child having a crisis.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she sighed deeply.

“Are you sure? I could tell them to wait.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just remembering some things. Nothing to worry about.”

She forced a smile. Efra didn’t seem convinced, but this wasn’t the time to figure out Teddy’s emotional traumas. He had to drop it almost as much as she.

“The elves are ready to meet me, I assume?” she said when he kept staring at her with that worried expression.

“Yes. But I’d rather come up with an excuse than have you break down in front of them.”

“’Break down’?” Teddy scoffed. “Please. If I were breaking down, there would be casualties.”

4

“I forgot that humans welcome women in combat,” Del said thoughtfully. “Androel, would you consider this a virtue or a flaw in a woman?”

Roel hated his brother in that moment, when Del forced all eyes to land on him.

He grunted vaguely, “Depends on who she’s fighting.”

5

“Do you have magic too, Lady Frye? Were you blessed by your goddess?” Roel wondered, genuine curiosity softening his tone.

Lady Frye smiled demurely. “I have been blessed by Etheme as well as any other member of my family, Your Highness. Even if it was never quite so obvious as those of my siblings, I am still grateful for it.”

“For what?” Roel pressed.

Her smile took on a strained edge. “One must be grateful for everything Etheme deems fit to give. My only gifts were a full belly and a loving family.”

So she hadn’t received a blessing, then. She had no magic. Wasn’t that so much easier to say than whatever other nonsense she’d been going on about?

The song was coming to an end. Soon, they parted, and Roel bowed along with the other men. She curtsied deeply.

“Thank you, Prince Androel,” she said. “I hope we can dance again sometime.”

He didn’t.

6

“But don’t you want to choose who you marry?” Mother asked. “What if they demand heirs? What then?”

Teddy hadn’t thought that far. Or rather, she hadn’t wanted to think that far. The idea of simply sharing a bed with Prince Androel made her queasy enough, but imagining touching him? Or him touching her? It made her want to peel her skin off.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. If we get there. Aren’t you worried a little too prematurely? What if Prince Androel says no?”

She half hoped he would.

Mother shook her head, “I spoke with King Roendel. The prince is willing.”

Oh. So it was really happening.

After that awful first meeting, too! It seemed the prince must’ve had his own reasons for accepting, since he was openly disgusted with her.

And every other human.

And everything in general.

7

“How long do I have to stay?”

“There is no time requirement, Your Highness, and you may leave whenever you please. Though I would recommend staying for the better part of an hour at the very least, if you cannot tolerate a whole night.”

“Can you?” he challenged.

“I don’t see why not. I’ve a good book, some hot tea and biscuits, and it’s a warm summer night. There are worse ways to spend an evening.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“In the bed.”

“And where will I sleep?”

Theodosia pursed her lips, her cheeks bursting with sudden color. “I’m sure the bed can accommodate two people.”

“Which part of ‘I am not touching you’ escapes your understanding?” Roel sneered.

“If at least one of us is awake when physical contact accidentally happens, we each would be able to stop it. And if it happens while we’re both asleep, what difference does it make?”

[babycharmander]

Thoughts on Wicked, Grilled Cheese toasties and Coffee with Cake

Oh boy, that first one's probably not what you're hoping for. XD;;

So first... thoughts on Wicked. To start with... I do like some of the songs. Defying Gravity, Popular, and Loathing are all good. Other songs are... ehh. But like, as for the story, I was already like... Not Really Into It from the concept alone, given it's an Oz story that's based primarily on the MGM musical rather than the books. (I'm a firm believer that if you want to do a take on Oz media, you need to base it on the books, not on the MGM musical, which is enormously watered down and, in terms of being an adaptation, extremely bad.) But my family wanted to see the musical (in an actual theater, not the movie), so several years ago I went to see it.

The musical had... its ups and downs. The choreography was good when it... actually existed. (For some reason a ton of the songs just have no choreography so you're just sitting there staring at these characters who are just... standing and singing, and maybe walking around if you're lucky.) The few times they use stuff like puppetry (like the fake wizard head and the dragon) are pretty cool! I remember after the first act thinking "oh okay, this isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be!" But then the second act happened and... oh gosh what a mess. This really is one of the worst ways to do a "classic story but from the villain's perspective!!!" Rather than actually making Elphaba a compelling character, they just made her look good by making everyone else around her worse people, and glossed over the actually awful stuff she did. Trying to kill a child? Taking over an entire country? Let's just ignore those parts because they make her look bad!!!! ugh.

It sucks. It's a bad story.

I have not watched the movie because I already saw the musical it was based on and hated it. I feel no desire to amend this.

I have also not read the book, as I've had multiple people tell me it ALSO sucks, and I've heard enough snippets that I wish I could permamently scrub from my head forever to know that it's not a book I would ever want to read ever. (I feel bad for any kid who winds up checking that book out at the library. It's nooooot for kids.)

But yeah. tl;dr I am Not A Fan of Wicked aside from a handful of the songs.

As for my thoughts on grilled cheese, I love it!! Sometime within the last year or so I found a recipe for a really nice grilled cheese sandwich--it's on my blog somewhere in my "#food" tag--and I've made it several times since. Grilled cheese freakin' rocks and I love it, especially now that I've learned how to elevate it, haha. Definitely recommend the recipe I reblogged a while ago.

Thoughts on coffee with cake... You know, I've never eaten coffee with cake! I've eaten other pastries with it-- concha, donuts, muffins, etc--but never cake. I HAVE had sour cream cookies with it though, and given those taste a lot like cake batter, I'd say coffee with cake is probably pretty good! I should try it sometime.

Thank you for sending  your ask!

[suugakusei]

Today I practiced a song and reviewed some calculus.

It's rainy again!

I'm thinking about recording a cover of a song from the Persona 3 soundtrack. It's been a long time since I produced any music (here's some of my old stuff) but giving it a try again sounds fun. Producing is always a big effort and a lot of work, but getting something I like out of it is really satisfying, as it is with any art form I guess.

I also reviewed some calculus today. I'm feeling uneasy about going back to uni because I feel I've forgotten a lot of what I had learned (shouldn't have slacked on my reviews so much!), but then I realised I didn't actually see my grades from last semester, and the fact they're all actually pretty good made me remember I can do this.

Anyway, I reviewed the chain rule for two variables and finding the tangent line to a two variable function at a given point.

Stuff is way to long to fit in an equation, so we abbreviate everything! Not confusing at all! Promise!

Last night I thought I'd finally watch Jujutsu Kaisen after months of my friends telling me I should watch it. But then the thoughts came:

"hey, why don't you study japanese while you're at it? it'll be efficient."

Then I spend 2 hours figuring out where to get japanese subtitles and how to display japanese and english subtitles at the same time, and then 3 more hours watching 15 minutes of anime. So that's fun!

It's fine tho. I did actually learn a lot and felt good about my japanese skills, because I somewhat understood most things. Some time ago I would've understood... nothing at all. Progress!!

And that's all for today. Have a nice one :)

[rastronomicals]

10:44 AM EST December 13, 2024:

Miles Davis - "In A Silent Way/It’s About That Time" From the album In a Silent Way (July 30, 1969)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

So, the hoped-for reappraisal.

I first bought this when I was 19 or 20, Bitches Brew in the rearview.

And having pretty much liked what it sounded like when Miles Ran the Voodoo Down, In A Silent Way really made no impression on me. I do remember being somewhat surprised by this at the time, but it wasn't happening and the album sat unplayed. Some of the impressionistic shortfall, I think, was that McLaughlin didn't sound like he did on Birds of Fire, and if that was it, I think I may have been listening under unreasonable expectations. Another key component of the music's failure to excite simply may have been the expectations (or fears) created by titles. The way was "silent" and the time was "peaceful." And oh yeah, "Sssh."

I can definitely remember being skeptical about the concept of ambient back then, and if I was adventurous enough to buy the thing, I wasn't enough detoxed from the punk rock and the Iron Maiden to get past the preconceptions.

Maybe. I dunno, maybe it was something else.

But I'm actually kind of happy right now, because, after having a long while ago given away the vinyl I purchased as a young pimply adult, I'm really digging the Columbia Jazz Masterpieces/BMG Music Club CD I bought on Discogs last week. It's mostly electric piano tone clusters and rhythmic vamping underneath some tasteful and restrained sax and trumpet solos, with some nice electric guitar and double bass snippets interspersed, and nothing wrong with that. It ain't rock and it ain't ambient, so let's call it quality jazz, even if Miles really would fly the coop sometime thereafter.

I have of course in the past been disappointed when I find that my mid-50's self and my snivelling potsmoking younger version agree on something. So here I get to dismiss my younger self's taste, which is nice.

But one thing I'm wondering and if you can clarify please do, it's Wayne Shorter and the way he's credited with tenor sax on the 1999 CD I bought, when there are spaces in the music that certainly sound like soprano. Looking around, I see that Lester Bangs in his contemporary review also had Shorter playing tenor, but that Wikipedia, adapting the credits "from the album's 1969 liner notes" has him on soprano. And here's a serious jazz site that says In A Silent Way was Shorter's debut on soprano.

This isn't usually the kind of thing I'd get hung up about, let me be emphatic, but it *is* the kind of thing serious jazz people make a habit of worrying about. And usually end up straightening out as a result. Regardless of my original opinion on the thing, this is considered to be a classic record, right? Yet it appears there's some question about who played what. Which is kind of weird.

File under: Directions in Music

--

  <700x702>

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 7/11/23, timezone change edition

the last time i wrote one of these things, i was not quite fully packed up in ma. now, i am technically temporarily homeless in houston, bc the apartment i originally signed on was completely unlivable. crashing in an acquaintance's guest room for a bit while i have a very bad time with apartment hunting round 2

i have lived in south florida, staten island, and various shithole student housing. i understand seasonal bugs in hot places and things such as different kinds of roaches and palmetto bugs. when i say that apartment had the worst roach infestation i've ever seen i fucking mean it. in theory i will get my full deposits back, but they're taking their sweet fucking time about it.

but having that full yes-i-know-about-seasonal-roaches conversation with new acquaintances and leasing agents takes too long so i've resorted to saying it had a horrific bedbug problem, which everyone seems to go Oh Okay Yeah Reasonable For You To Leave much more quickly.

listening

a lot of early aughts dance pop standards, to chase away the agonies as i drive to and from apartments only to get ghosted, find they were rented a week ago, or find that they look absolutely nothing like the pictures. i was really torn on which britney song to pick for this week until my sister sent me Twin Flame by Maude Latour, which i can only describe as "douchebag get the girl back song but for lesbians". spotify

also how do we like the "featured link from bandcamp or soundcloud with additional spotify link" format? in an ideal world i would buy all my music directly from the artists but realistically i use spotify 90% of the time. i don't know what your life is like, tell me if this is helpful or not.

-

reading

my best friend made sad faces at me until i read The Flatshare by Beth O'Leary, and it was a little nice to see someone else's dire housing situation get resolved neatly and with thematic consistence in several hundred pages. it was also nice to text her snippets with "WHAT?????" every so often. this is a reading experience i don't have very often bc our current reading tastes don't overlap even a little bit.

i don't have much to say about it bc i didn't have particularly strong feelings and don't really read mainstream straight romance, so i can't point out what this did differently or well compared to its peers. if nothing else, it was a fluffy bit of distraction, and i think that's kind of the point?

(image from Tor) also read Saad Z. Hossein's Kundo Wakes Up novella in a waffle house while eating some of the best scrambled eggs i've ever had in my life.

this novella was the closest thing i've ever read to "aging English professor has an affair" without actually containing any of those elements. generally i enjoy his work, but this was sort of a way to check up and tie off many characters from previous works with a sort of light frosting of "my wife left me and i don't know why [ rot13:v pna znxr fbzr thrffrf ohg gurer vf ab zbzrag bs frys-ernyvmngvba, bapr ur svaqf uvf jvsr ur whfg perrcf ba ure sebz nsne naq nsgre qrgrezvavat fur'f abg jvgu nalbar arj znxrf gur gerzraqbhf fnpevsvpvny qrpvfvba gb yrnir ure nybar op fur'f zhpu unccvre jvgubhg uvz. gurer vf ab zbzrag bs frys-ernyvmngvba nobhg jul fur zvtug unir yrsg uvz. xhaqb arire trgf bhg bs uvf bja shpxvat urnq bapr.]"

while The Gurkha and the Lord of Thursday novella (TREMENDOUS) and Cyber Mage book (fun but with some dire pacing issues) are fairly standalone, i cannot imagine you'd get much out of Kundo Wakes Up if you haven't read the other two. for some reason none of the libraries i have access to have his other book Djinn City, so we'll have to procure that elsewhere.

-

watching

the dnd movie, the day after i broke my lease on the roach apartment. i don't remember a ton about this movie. do generally like a heist. michelle rodriguez was hot

-

playing

genshin. listen. it is a free and familiar way to turn my brain off by doing open world exploration and puzzles but CRUCIALLY! most of it is completely new to me. i have not played this game in a year and a half. i have not played this game since right before enkanomiya. there was no chasm. there was no Sumeru. i have absolutely no idea what’s happening lore-wise.

i pulled for the fancy ice claymore lady and got a catboy archer (at least i think it is a catboy? the ears do give a pharaoh hound vibe... he is distinct from the extant dogboy archer). not terrible but not my vibe.

i have been enjoying the shit out of the temporary summer event carnival space. they really did pull out several stops by introducing a ton of genuinely interesting and innovating little new mechanics and mini games. delightful!

-

making

altering the worst shorts ive ever seeeeeeeeen with a demure little two-inch side slit on both legs bc my thighs simply will not quit. mens shorts are so much better than womens shorts in nearly every way except for the catastrophic physical fit issues.

when i got ghosted by two different apartments on saturday i bought myself a spoon ring so chunky it makes my other chunky rings look positively delicate by comparison. not very comfy to drive in but fine to wear while tippy tappying on the spreadsheets

a girl i saw for one singular awful date in 2016 called my hands "coarse but honest" and i think about that every time my hands are in a photo. what did that even fucking MEAN, [REDACTED]?

[mysunandmoon98]

Sending waves to wave to earth as we grow alongside each other across the ocean 🌊

(rambings from a while back, edited to be coherent, please share this time of love with me)

I am someone who often questions things about myself, especially the things I am into and enjoy. I like to figure about exaclty what it is that captivates me. Wave to earth have been on my mind a lot recently with their US tour kicking off. Subsequently I started to wonder a little, what is it about this band that I am so captivated by and feel so connected to? To put it simply, music is art, and I honestly live day to day examening and thinking about art. What draws me into art is typically one of two things: admiration to anothers dedication/view of life or its relatability and how I see myself in that art, how it fits with my daily life and thoughts. Wave to earth's music is one of those gems that fulfils both categories. What captured me was their specific nestling into a blur of genres, and their appreciation and dedication to art, as well as their lyrics about life and love.

The first live performance of theirs that I watched was purple lake. It was just daniel and donkgyu in a little room, I vividly remember the purple glow of the room, and the multi coloured lights dancing across the walls. Dongkyu had a pair of sunglasses hanging from his shirt. Watching that performance, when the camera pans to dongkyu on the drums, it felt like the whole universe had singled into this one person, fulfilling their passion and translating feelings into sound. I had never been so captivated in this way before.

I started getting more into the lyrics too. I had been a fan of Daniel for a little while before I heard wave to earth so was familiar with his voice and lyrical style from the little snippets of what I understood before. I vividly remember one day, sat at the kitchen table listening to seasons, just recently after its release. I sat there with the lyrics in front of me, and I felt my heart warm a little. A delicate hum of pain and nostalgia which stuck with, and resonated with me so strongly. "I'd give you all my life, my seasons" Listening to songs like light, wave, ride and surf made me fall more in love with life. The link of love and life with the sea and nature fit hand in hand so beautifully. It gives a sense of connection, a grounding feeling, whilst also somehow making me feel like i'm floating in the clouds, my mind completely at peace, even in the middle of a hectic day.

Then as the autumn and winter come, I grativiate to songs such as bonfire and bird. A couple years ago, on my journeys back home from college, I would listen to these songs as the sun set. I shut the door on a difficult day listening to music that made life feel beautiful again. "Bird, how does it feel to fly. Hey bird, do you look down or forward?" These lyrics stuck in my mind, as I felt stuck in the sickening routine my life had back then. Do I look down to my heart, do I look to myself, to this moment, or do I look into the future? How is everyone around me living, how do you see? I felt confused, life was a blur of one day to the next. I would listen so intently, every lyric, every chord. One listen for the lyrics, one for Daniel's voice, one for the drums, one for the bass, one for the harmonies, one for it all together. It was moments of peace in during a messy time. From this, I found one of my big happinesses in life: bass guitar. I was drawn into John Cha's bass lines. I always pondered on which was a favourite. For autumn, I like bonfire, the bass gives a rich yet fluttering feeling, like fireflies dancing in the night. There is a certain part in gold which I adore it's like velvet, so smooth, so deep but also powerful. Then in daisy, in this one break- where often the guitar gets centre stage, there is just this epic breakdown, giving that depth, that almost tangible grip on the song, all the desire and the love just bursts out, and I think its incredible. I came to realise how beatiful bass guitar is. I love the melodic charm of John's playing, the variations during live performances too (I remember learning the term 'bass fills' from his youtube, which I know I probably use incorrectly haha, but just that little extra something special, I love it). I'm not too educated on music, I really only write from the heart, but I feel like John's playing, it really feels like another voice, another vocal, another expression of the lyrics. I never understood music in this way before, so deeply, so interconnected, so beautifully.

From this, music became such a bigger part of my life. I started listening to more instrumental songs, and I gained a whole new outlook on music and instruments. Side B of flaws and all... it really is my everything, that lofi jazz sound they have.. it is everything to me, and sparked my love for a new kind of music. I listen to side A when its sunny and bright out, as well as when my gloomy days need some sunshine. "I'm broken, so take me to the evening glow, and lay me down on the sun, the tender sun" This song, their music, is like a warm ray of sunshine.

So I think about this a lot, as time passes and things change. I feel I have changed and grown, and I look and see their success as a band and see how they have changed and grown and I feel immense happiness. I adore how wave to earth craft their music, their performances, their albums covers. It is always a big creative inspiration in my life. So I just wanted to talk about it, I'm a little bit lost for words, but these days I find myself tearing up thinking about these things so I just wanted to try and express how my heart has been feeling :')

[eomereadig]

Snippet: Fucked Dumb

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Jaskier/Lambert

Rating: E

Tags: dumbification, dom!Jaskier, sub!Lambert, handjobs, power play, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, humiliation, subspace

Full fic now avaliable here

Lambert’s eyes were beginning to droop, relaxed as he was, practically drooling against Jaskier’s chest as the bard stroked up and down his back soothingly. They were wrapped up in each other atop their shared bed, a little nest of blankets surrounding them to keep out the chill. With one leg already thrown over Jaskier’s, Lambert burrowed closer to the bard’s side, pressed as tight as possible against the other. As Jaskier hummed a tune to himself, no doubt working on a melody for a future song, Lambert slipped into a state that was almost the same as mediation. 

The two of them had already been there a while but Jaskier showed no signs of boredom, content to have Lambert in his arms and watch the setting sun from the window. The witcher’s head felt as if it were full of cotton, nothing but the words ‘safe’, ‘warm’ and ‘love’ floating through his mind. Lambert wriggled contentedly. 

Gods, he loved Jaskier so much it hurt. Even just a year ago, he never would have imagined one day ending up where he was then - lazing about on Jaskier’s chest without a care in the world, completely open and vulnerable. The fact that Jaskier had managed to get him to that state was a feat in itself. He’d been uncommonly patient and thick skinned with Lambert, even after the two of them had finally fucked for the first time. It’d taken longer than either of them cared to admit for Lambert to open himself completely, but now that he had, he was glad for it. He cursed his own stubbornness when he remembered that he could have been there, in Jaskier’s arms, months - if not years ago. 

Jaskier shifted, stretching out a leg and signing contentedly when the joint popped. As he did so, his hip brushed Lambert’s erection where it was pressed against him, trapped between his clothes. Jaskier froze but didn’t become tense, and Lambert opened his eyes blearily from where they’d slipped closed. 

“Are you hard?”

His tone sounded a little accusatory but it was light enough that Lambert didn’t think he was in trouble. The witcher moved his hips a little. ‘Yep, definitely hard.’ He thought. Lambert hadn’t even noticed until Jaskier pointed it out to him, as safe and relaxed as he’d been feeling curled up against Jaskier’s side. He guessed it was the warmth and contact that had made him start to fill out, each and every one of his numerous walls lowered in Jaskier’s company. 

“Yeah… I guess I am…” He breathed. Jaskier snorted at that. 

Full fic now avaliable here

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

@giraffeter asked about the WenZhou ghosts WIP file! This one is fun and I love it a lot--I actually posted a little snippet from it a couple of months ago.

The basic thing is, I love ghost stories, and I have a still in-progress series of MDZS fics in a modern-with-cultivation setting that are all about ghosts and the hunting thereof, so naturally I've been thinking about ghost stuff a lot over the past. Year or so. Good lord, have I been working on the series that long? Anyway, I also rewatched Word of Honor not long ago because I wanted my partner to see it, and they loved it as much as I do and we spent a lot time talking about it, and all of this naturally led to the idea that I should do a WoH ghost story in a setting sort of adjacent to the MDZS ones. Unlike those stories, this one doesn't have any ghost hunters--Zishu's just a mundane hitman attempting a short and eventually fatal retirement, who finds himself unexpected tangled up in the affairs of an extremely strange nightclub singer with very cold hands.

Here's the scene of them actually meeting, after an initial very alarming encounter in which Wen Kexing singled him out of the crowd while performing:

After “Mack the Knife,” the singer didn’t linger near Zishu, instead making his way back up to the stage for a final song

(There was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy…)

before taking a bow and disappearing along with his backing band. No encores for this performance, apparently. This was something of a relief to Zishu, who’d been uneasy ever since the singer had first approached his table, but just as he was signaling to the one server on duty that he was ready to pay, a shadow fell over him and the singer himself pulled out the other chair and sat down. Before Zishu could say a word, he’d signaled to the server himself, accepting an empty wine glass from the harried woman and pouring for himself from Zishu’s bottle without so much as asking.

“I’m sorry,” Zishu said, as mildly as he could, “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

The singer took a sip of wine, eyebrows rising, and then said, “We haven’t been, but I have strong feeling that we should be, and my intuition is never wrong about things like that.” He reached across the table with the hand that didn’t hold his wine glass, red nails gleaming in the light. “Wen Kexing.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, Zishu took the proferred hand and was shocked for a moment by how cold it was, although he didn’t comment. “Zhou…Xu.”

“Boss, oh my god.” Zishu very nearly jumped. The drummer from the stage, a young woman in mostly purple, had materialized at Wen Kexing’s elbow, her eyebrows and mouth drawn down into a scowl. “I look away for two seconds and you’re just, just bothering random alcoholics, I can’t let you out of my sight.”

Zishu snorted. “Excuse me?”

“Wasn’t talking to you, Mister Two-Bottles. Boss, come on—”

Despite the young woman’s tugging at his arm, Wen Kexing would not be moved, one hand coming up to his chest like a dowager clutching a pearl necklace. “Bullied! By my own baby sister! And don’t be rude, A-Xu isn’t a ‘random alcoholic,’” the air quotes made more than usually vivid by those long red nails, “we’re very dear friends.”

Zishu felt his eyebrows shoot up at the affectionate address, and then higher at what came after it. “Are we? I don’t remember that.”

“Of course we are, my intuitions are never wrong, wasn’t I just telling you that?”

“You did tell me that. I don't recall agreeing.”

“Well, why would you? We’ve only just met. But we’re going to be the closest of friends, I’d stake my life on it.”

And here is Wen Kexing's truly wild set list, which is a very satisfying-to-me combination of jazz and blues classics and more modern songs that I think sound good, or would sound good, when sung in a sort of smokey, sexy torch song style:

"Ill Wind," composer Harold Arlen

"Hot Ones," Shudder To Think, originally performed on the soundtrack for Velvet Goldmine

"Why Don't You Do Right," probable composer Kansas Joe McCoy, notable recordings including Peggy Lee, Sinead O'Connor, and Amy Irving singing as Jessica Rabbit

"I Get a Kick out of You," composer Cole Porter--WKX is, of course, singing the original lyrics, the ones that reference drug use

"Glory Box," Portishead

"Undisclosed Desires," Muse

"Fell in Love with a Girl," The White Stripes, although WKX switches "girl" for "boy" and thus is more performing the Joss Stone version

"The Ballad of Mack the Knife," composer Kurt Weill, German lyrics Bertolt Brecht, Marc Blitzstein translation (the one that Bobby Darin and Louis Armstrong were working from)

"Nature Boy," composer eden ahbez, originally performed by Nat King Cole

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

7 & 11 for the ask game pls

7 -- Okay a specific scene/paragraph I am especially proud of is the below snippet from Broken (the chapter is actually called Little White Lies, all of my chapters are 20k words plus and I just split them up so they're actually digestible lol)

Twilight didn’t sit, but knelt in front of him on the tile floor. He clasped Wild’s uninjured hand in both of his own. “Wild, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but it’s a lot to explain, and I know that it’s going to sound absolutely crazy, and insane, but…” He looked away, his expression clouded.

Something was wrong. Both his and the Sheikah’s behavior was so abnormal, so off, that something had to have changed—Wild could feel it in the very air, like an invisible undercurrent of electricity.

And somehow, Wild knew that nothing would ever be the same.

“I thought after I lost them a few years ago—the portals, when I ended up alone here—I didn't that they'd—that you'd—Wild, I…” Twilight finally looked him in the eye. The utter despair there, staring back at Wild, frightened him. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

He began to speak, and Wild’s world as he knew it shattered.

11--Do you have playlists for any of your fics/wips?

I have one gigantic playlist of all the songs I've ever binge listened to while writing this fic on Spotify, going back over four years. It's named after Legend because I heard one song that sounded like it would vibe with him (I think it was Broken Crown by Mumford and Sons, real on the nose I know XD) and then I just never made another playlist. It has about 10 hrs of songs (which honestly is less than I thought it would be). But like, this thing is all over the place. You Do Not Walk Alone (choral) I remember was specifically listened to write Ch 77. Something Wild by Lindsey Stirling was used to write some of the early chapters of Arc 2. I was listening to Broken Arrows by Avici when I was writing Ch 57-60. And I wrote all of chapters of 63-69 (that count is after I cut 10,000 words XD) on a fever dream of a 10 bus ride (there and back) in high school while listening to Curtains from Beat saber XD on repeat. Towards the Sun from that weird alien movie was chapters 41-50. I also have all of the FMAB opening and closing songs in there as well XD.

SO, uh. Yeah, to answer the question, yes, I have a playlist. I just had a commentor on BDOR recommend some Joel Sunny stuff, so I guess that's the theme of the next few prologue chapters XD