#[ominous music plays in the background]

[travelerbasilau]

Speaking of sprout moles, Basil, I hear you've been teaching tofu recipes to the ones at Sweetheart's Castle. I think you're their favorite person in Headspace (after Sweetheart)!

[barbatoskisser]

Everything i post starting at 12am is a joke unless.it has a /srs

:3

[leclerc-hs]

somebody else - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you find yourself at cross ties with an ex! OR charles just really wants you back. warnings: 18+, smut under the cut!, angst!!!!!!!!!, not proofread word count: ~2.2k author's note: sorry if this is lame?? i was feeling really angsty the other night but then never finished it so i finished it just now. maybe I can continue this or maybe I'll leave it as a one-shot only!!! idk but let me know your thoughts :) xoxo ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE DARKENED CLOUDS swirl ominously above you, intermittently lit by flashes of distant lightning that paints fleeting patterns across the sky. The air is cool and charged with the scent of saltwater as you pull your knees into your chest. 

“Did you ever think we would end up here?” His voice mutters beside you, the waves crashing with a muted sorrow in the background, as if echoing the ache that burned in his chest.

The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and dampness, a bittersweet reminder of your shared moments now slipping away. You turned your head to look at him, tugging the corners of your lips upwards into a weak smile.

The burn in your throat made it hard to speak.

“Jamais.” Never.

“I thought we had more time,” You spoke, your voice fragile.

-

You sit nestled on the plush couch, your favorite book lying forgotten in your lap as you emerge yourself into the soft melodies playing in the background. Charles stands by the vintage record player, carefully selecting another vinyl, his movements graceful and deliberate in the dim glow of the room.

The music fills the space. A jazz tune, perhaps, with its smooth saxophone and rhythmic piano. He turns to you eventually, with a smile that practically melts your heart, before extending a hand towards you as an invitation to dance.

“Aren’t you concerned for your toes?” You joke, slipping the book off your lap and onto the couch.

“Concerned?” His lips tug into a small smirk. “You can break all of my toes, and I’d still want to dance with you.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing. A shy grin forms as your hand slips perfectly into his, fingers intertwining effortlessly.

Outside, the city hums softly with the quiet buzz of evening life, but within the cocoon of warmth and music, time seems to stand still. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He mutters as he presses gentle kisses onto your face, one arm wrapped around your waist tightly. “Toe breaking and all.”

Your head falls back as you release a laugh of pure joy. “Je t’aime.” I love you.

“Je t’aime, mon coeur.” My heart.

-

The mornings always held a special charm for him, especially those rare occasions when he found himself awake before you. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but when it did happen, he cherished it deeply. As he woke to the gentle light filtering through the curtains, he would often find himself captivated by the sight of you sleeping peacefully beside him, almost always cocooned into the side of his body.

There was always something so mesmerizing about watching you in those quiet moments of slumber. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the way your hair fell onto the pillow, and the soft expression on your face created a montage of serenity and beauty that he could never look away from.

He sometimes would just lay there, propped up on one elbow, just taking in every detail of you. The way your eyelashes fluttered silently, the slight curve of your lips, and the way you would sometimes reach out unconsciously, seeking his warmth even in sleep. It always filled him with need for you.

Today, for instance, was one of those mornings. Charles traced the pads of his fingertips softly along the collarbone that was peeking out of his t-shirt that you always stole from him. He didn’t mind though; it was practically yours.

You stirred awake gently, a smile pulling on your lips as you felt Charles hand trail down your torso and slipping under the t-shirt, his hands instantly trailing along the skin of your stomach.

His hands squeezed your sides gently, before pushing you flat onto your back, so he could slip in between your thighs, half his body pressed on top of you.

He peppered kisses to your neck, up to your cheeks, before meeting you at your lips where you awoke with a full-blown smile. 

“Needy this morning, hm?” Your voice was soft, still full of sleep as you felt him gently rut against your core. There wasn’t much fabric between you both, just his boxers and a pair of cotton panties.

“For you?” You could feel his grin against the crevice of your neck and collarbone where he places open-mouthed kisses, sucking gently. “Always.”

It didn’t take much longer before his cock was slipped inside of you. His boxers strewn somewhere along the bedroom floor that you both shared, and your panties pushed only to the side.

“Feel this, mon amour?” He groans softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin as you let your head fall back into the pillows completely. “It’s just for you.”

It starts out slow and lazy. Until you both just can’t take it anymore and he’s flipping you over, pulling you to your knees. 

“Arch your back for me.” He says, the pace of his hips unrelenting as his fingers grip the sides of your hips. “That’s it, mon amour.” 

You can’t help but moan, your knuckles turning white from the harsh grip you claim on the bedsheets. It’s sogood.

His hands find their way to your hair, fisting it tightly as he pulls you up so that your back is pressed to his chest.

“Please,” You beg, in need of a release.

“How bad do you want it?” He clicks his tongue, his fingers trailing along your neck, pressing gently into your soft skin. “C’mon, work for it.”

You begin feverishly rutting your hips, meeting him in the middle. It doesn’t take much longer before your both sent over the edge of your orgasms, collapsing on top of one another in the warm confines of the bed.

“I think we should stay here for the rest of the day.”

-

The tension in the air was palpable, thick with anger that seemed to swirl around the both of you like a storm. You both stood in the middle of the kitchen, a place that usually consists of shared laughter and comfort, now transformed into a battleground.

“How was I supposed to know that she would be there?” His voice was lethal, the veins in his neck protruding from the clench of his jaw.

You were in complete disarray as your fingers continuously ran through the roots of your hair. It’s as if he was listening but wasn’t really listening.

“It’s not about that!” You half-shout back, your voice dwindling towards the end. You were tired. So tired of this. “It’s the fact that you practically forgot I was even there!”

“You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Pick fights over nothing.”

“So now it’s my fault that you practically spent the entire night talking to your ex-girlfriend as if I wasn’t in the room?”

You felt your temper wearing thin. All you needed was an apology. A sign that he didn’t mean to spend half the night talking to his ex-girlfriend.

“I hate when you do this.”

“I’m so done letting you hurt me like this every time we see her around.” You felt your voice crack. 

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up?” His voice was void of any emotion, but the heavy rise and fall of his chest gave way to just how much this was hurting him to hear.

-

“Can you just stay a little longer?” His voice was raw and full of emotion as he stared at you from the archway of the kitchen. You stood only a few feet away with swollen eyes from crying, and a single suitcase by your side.

You could slowly see the unwavering emotions form across Charles’ face as he stood, staring at you. Sadness, hurt, and anger.

You began to shake your head no, but Charles absolutely refused for that to be your response. He took a small step towards you, which had you immediately holding your hand up, begging for him to stop.

“Please,” Your voice shook. “Don’t make this harder.”

“I love you.” He emphasizes. He runs his hands through his hair like he’s in distraught. Because he is. How did it get to this point?

When you couldn’t even say the words back, was Charles’ final undoing. He knew you still did. But he neededto hear you say it. He knew it was selfish. Considering, this was all his doing. His actions.

“You keep hurting me every time we come across her.” You void your sentence of any emotion. Trying your best to hold it together, at least exteriorly. “I can’t be with you when it seems like you want her.”

“I only want you!” He can feel the panic forming in his chest as he sees you make your way to grab the handle of your suitcase.

“It’s too late.” 

-

It’s been seven months since then. Most would say that’s not much, but to Charles it felt like eternity. It would be a lie if you said it didn’t too. But still you moved on. Or at least tried to.

You and Charles regardless of the break-up we’re always still involved in some way. You both knew it was impossible to shut each other out completely. Especially when you both live in the same small city, have the same childhood friends, and live not even a mile away from each other.

So, when you arrive to one of your best friend’s birthday party, hand in hand with another man, you could imagine the burn of nerves that flood your stomach as you spot Charles across the room.

“Mon dieu!” Your friend erupts in a raised voice. “We finally get to meet Andrew!” She pushes the door open widely, allowing room for you and Andrew to step through the threshold.

A short silk dress adorns your body, the perfect shade of blue that embellishes your summer tan. You avoid looking in Charles’ direction as you gather your belongings onto a designated table, where everyone’s belongings also lie. 

You’ve been seeing Andrew for a few weeks, it’s all still relatively new. But he was sweet and caring, and so thoughtful.

You feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment as your friend announces Andrew as ‘your new boyfriend’ because he isn’t your boyfriend. But, you can’t find it in your heart to correct her.

It takes a mere thirty seconds for you to drop your belongings down onto the table, before you turn around to meet the eyes of Charles from across the room. 

It feels as if time has stood still as he sends you a small tug of his lips, unsure of how he should act. It’s not that you haven’t seen each other since the break-up, but he hasn’t ever seen you with another man.

You felt in a complete trance, unable to remove your eyes from Charles, until you feel a hand rest on the small of your back. Andrew.

You break eye contact almost instantly, turning your head to smile up at Andrew. He sends you a quick wink, before bringing his lips down to your ear. “Tu veux un verre?” Do you want a drink?

You nod, a soft smile pulled on your lips as you turn towards the direction of the kitchen, pulling Andrew’s hand in yours.

-

“Is it serious?” His smooth voice elicits a quiet shriek and jump as you hand wash the used wine glasses in the kitchen sink, an eruption of goosebumps forming across your skin.

“Excuse me?” You turn to him. Soapy water dripping from your fingertips before you wiped them with a hand towel nearby. 

“Is it serious?” He repeats, his voice unwavering as he steps closer that you need to crane your neck to look at him.

“I know what you said.” You could feel the anger begin to swirl in you like a storm. “What makes you think you deserve to know?”

For a tiny instant, you swore you saw the smirk on his face waver. But, it was so fast that he pulled it back up again.

“I miss you.” He whispers softly, his hand reaches to touch a strand of fallen hair from your face before he tucks it behind your ear.

“You’re not being fair.”

His face falls to a solemn look, letting only you see the actual hurt that he’s been feeling every day since you walked out that apartment door.

“I want you back, mon amour.” He states. “I’ll risk being unfair if it gives me any chance to get you back.”

Your heart was beating rapidly. It’s everything you’ve wanted to hear. But you can’t do this. Not again. Not to Andrew.

“Charles, please don’t do this. Not here.” 

“I know that you love me.” He states. “I know that you do, and you know that I love you. That I’m in love with you and always will be.” His words begin pouring out of him, like a waterfall. 

“We’re broken.” You shrug your shoulders. “We always were.”

You didn’t give him a chance to speak again before you pushed past the confines of his body and back into the living room where all of your friends and Andrew celebrate.

[aerkan]

Currently thinking about the fact that Odysseus' dog has the same name as Diomedes' city.

My man really named his animal companion after a kingdom and I don't doubt for a moment that Diomedes wanted to strangle him for it.

CAN YOU IMAGINE THE PUNS AND JOKES?

Ody: I've heard recently that Argos is full of howl-arious bards.

Dio: I want you to remember that out of the two of us I am the one Athena gifted inhuman strength to.

...

Ody: Diomedes here is as loyal as a hound, aren't you my friend?

Dio: *ominous music starts playing in the background*

...

Ody: I really feel like you are barking up the wrong tree with Agamemnon, we should try-

Dio: I will murder you.

[ijuliet]

txt sexual guilty pleasures (s)

the things txt loves to do with you, but would never openly admit it

pairing : ot5!txt x afab!reader

warnings : yeonjun tit sucking, soobin breath play, beomgyu swallowing EVERYTHING from you, taehyun nudes and kinda pervy, kai public settings <33

wc : 1.3k words

・choi yeonjun

staying over at the boys dorm was always sensual. you never wanted to get caught by beomgyu or taehyun, cause your poor yeonjun wouldn’t hear the end of it, so you resorted on keeping your dirty fantasies at home. it was getting pretty late and the movie you were watching with yeonjun had your full attention. yeonjun was laying on top of you and resting his head in your boobs, his favorite pillow. at first, yeonjun’s hand was drawing circles on the part of your stomach your crop top couldn’t cover. it was sweet, until you felt his hand wander up to the hem of your shirt.

“yeonjun…” you quietly whispered. you didn’t know if the other boys were sleeping, but you did know beomgyu was still out with his friends. “baby everyone’s asleep.” he looks up at you with his perfect pouty lips and fully pulls your crop top up to stare at your boobs, gently massaging them. “you’re like my own personal baby.” not wanting to decline his offer, you rake your fingers through his hair.

“i am your baby.” and he lowers his head into your chest to start sucking. planting his mouth around your sensitive nipples and using his tounge to tease you. he softly groans which make you shut your eyes tight, trying to suppress any noise to fall out of your mouth.

the movie has become background noise as your boobs are lathered in his saliva. by the time you want to try and pull yeonjun off and into a kiss, the front door is open and you quickly cover yeonjuns head with your hiked up shirt. beomgyu stares at the scene before shaking his head and going into his room.

・choi soobin

whenever you had sex with soobin it was simply vanilla. you never tried hard to change it, believing that your desires would come out on its own. so you didn’t pressure him, but one night while riding his length soobin grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his neck.

whenever you had sex with soobin it was simply vanilla. you never tried hard to change it, believing that your desires would come out on its own. so you didn’t pressure him, but one night while riding his length soobin grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his neck.

“choke me.” he quietly moans, you’ve never been more aroused in your life. quickening your pace and rolling your hips as soobin tightens your grips around his throat. the blonde hairs of his stick to his forehead and his eyes roll back.

he’s groaning more and more, and you can’t stop yourself from hitting your climax. soobin lifts his hips of his bed to slam his release into you. you both let go of his neck and pant in sync. “can i try choking, you, now?”

・choi beomgyu

anytime beomgyu saw you slip anything into your mouth, he wanted to try to, but he’d only ever do it in private. it would start off innocent, seeing you take a sip of an americano, beomgyu would reach for your cup and take a swig too.

until he started getting confident. drinking together as ominous music plays in your apartment, your sat in beomgyus lap and take a shot from the glass he handed you. before you could swallow, beomgyu opened his mouth with a glimmer in his eyes. either it was the alcohol in your system, or rather beomgyu himself, you clashed your mouths together to give him a taste too. he swallows the drink with a proud smile.

moments later you’re on your back laying on the couch as beomgyu releases his seed inside of you. out of breath and in a trance you pull him into a kiss before he pulls away to slide himself out. you get on your forearms believing that this was the wrap of your spontaneous night with your boyfriend, but he lowers himself and gathers the mix of fluids on his tongue. lapping around with his tounge and gathering the excess out of your hole, he swallows and overstimulates you, beomgyu ends with a quick peck to your lips

・kang taehyun

you’re hanging out with your friends when you look at your phone for the first time since you left your home and see spam texts from your boyfriend. you furrow your eyebrows at the amount of messages he’s sent and wonder what they could be. when you open them, you’re taken aback at the dirt words and pictures. you can feel a blush painting on your face and look side to side to see if any of your friends saw them too.

taehyun had sent you his bulge through his boxers with an alluring comment asking you why your panties were left on the bed. you bite your lip and send him a reassuring text message. i was rushed!! wait for me you smile as you press send. but soon your message is quickly disliked.

now, you’ve been sent a video which thumbnail is taehyun hand and your lace panties wrapped around his member. the pink haired boy is closing his eyes, slim body fitting the frame. you scoot over your friends and slip into the public restroom, when you finally click the video, you’re pressing your thighs together as his hands slide up and down himself.

taehyuns mouth parts and his cum leaks into your undergarments. you click your tongue as you’re in a huge predicament. he sends one last text which simply reads:

i couldn’t wait

・huening kai

having dinner with kais parents doesn’t add up with having your hands in his pants. logically. but, your huening kai couldn’t stop from wanting a handjob, and he was one to get anything if he sulked. so here you were sitting beside him unzipping he’s jeans at the dining table while his mom rushed around preparing the food.

“slow down… please.” he whispers in your ear. you don’t listen to him since he’s forced you in this position. you quicken your pace as it’s becoming easier to go up and down his length.

“we should have just waited for tonight, hm?” you look up at his face and pause, kai throws his head back in response to the lack of friction. his mom begins to ask kai what his plans are for tomorrow. you begin again as you wait for him to respond.

“i have schedules tomorrow.” his voice is shaking and he’s somewhat above a whisper, when he sits up from the chair you understand he’s close to his climax. she asks him to repeat himself and be covers his mouth to suppress a moan.

his release gathers along your fingers as he’s huffing out. you bring your hands out from his pants and get up from your seat. slotting two digits into your mouth and savoring the saltiness while staring at your boyfriend. you walk to the kitchen and repeat the words kai couldn’t say to his mom.

“he said he had schedules.” leaning over the sink and letting the water clean your sticky hands.

didn’t proof read. my reqs are open for anyone who’d like to send horny thotsss;)

[roxxie-wolf]

𝒩𝑒𝓌 𝒪𝓇𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝓈 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

Pairing: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your parents want you to marry someone of their choice, but you already have eyes on someone else. Will you follow what your parents think is best for you or will you go with what your heart desires.

Word count: 726

Warnings: human!alastor x fem!reader, slow burn, this story may contain mature sexual content. Your in your late 20’s, Alastor is in his early 30’s, you still live with your parents idk. If I forgot anything else please let me know.

Note: It’s my first story, please let me know how you feel about this. I want to improve. Thank you! ☺️

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝟣

Living in New Orleans was something new for you. It was a stark contrast to the life you had known growing up on a farm in the countryside. You was always the child who spent her days outside with your father, tending to the animals and the crops. The thought of leaving that behind and moving to a bustling city like New Orleans was something you could never have imagined wanting to do.

However, when your parents made the decision to sell the property and start anew, there was nothing you could do but to follow. You found yourself in a strange new world, far removed from the simplicity and familiarity of rural life.

The first few weeks in the new home were challenging to say the least. The noise and crowds of the city overwhelmed you, and you found yourself longing for the quiet of the countryside. But slowly, as you explored the streets of New Orleans and got to know its people, you began to see the beauty and intrigue that the city had to offer.

The air hung heavy with humidity, wrapping around you like a warm, damp shroud. The streets of New Orleans pulsed with life—a vibrant tapestry woven from the threads of jazz, and secrets whispered in the sultry night.

You missed the farm—the sun-kissed fields, the scent of freshly turned soil, and the comforting rhythm of chores. But here, in the heart of the Crescent City, you discovered a different kind of rhythm—one that thrummed through your veins like the syncopated beat of a jazz trumpet.

——————————————-

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. The soft rays danced on the walls, illuminating the dusty corners and highlighting the knick-knacks that adorned your shelves, music playing in the background.

Your mother left early to buy groceries and your father went to work. You stood in the kitchen making breakfast for yourself. It was a picture-perfect start to the day until…

The radio broadcast cut through the tranquility with chilling news. The broadcaster's voice was urgent, tinged with a sense of dread that sent chills down your spine. “Another person has gone missing in the city," the voice said, each word heavy with the gravity of the situation.

The broadcaster continued, detailing the string of disappearances that had begun to weave a tapestry of fear across New Orleans. Another missing person…but what was even more disturbing was the realization that this was not an isolated incident.

Your heart began to race as you listened. As the broadcast continued, you felt a sense of unease settle over you. The cozy room, once filled with warmth and sunlight, now felt stifling and claustrophobic. The shadows danced ominously on the walls, the familiar knick-knacks taking on a sinister air. You couldn't shake the feeling of dread that enveloped you, the knowledge that danger lurked just beyond the cozy confines of your home.

The morning sun, once a beacon of hope and promise, now seemed tainted by the darkness that hung over the town. The warm glow that had greeted you upon waking now felt cold and distant.

You couldn't help but shiver as you clutched the edge of the kitchen counter. The weight of the situation pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

But amidst the fear and uncertainty, a steely resolve began to take hold within you. You knew you couldn't let fear dictate your actions, couldn't let the darkness of the outside world consume you. You had to be vigilant, had to stay alert and aware of your surroundings.

With a deep breath, you turned away from the kitchen counter and made your way to the window. The morning sun, still streaming through the curtains casting its warm glow across the room. The radio may have brought chilling news of a missing person but you refused to let fear overpower you.

Your thoughts race in your head. What happened to that person? Does New Orleans have a killer on the loose? Who knows. As the sun rose higher in the sky, illuminating the world outside, you found solace in the knowledge that no matter how dark the night may seem, the morning light would always come.

🌸𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉🌸

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so you be updated every time.^^ I do try to proofread but if I missed something please let me know.

Also I sometimes tend to make minor changes to the chapters.

Thank you! For reading I hope you enjoyed it.💖

TAGLIST: @magictoebean

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

Murph, with ominous music playing behind him: Sol and Calder, you guys start to walk around the ruins of the fortress here, and you see-- Caldwell: The Frogson to your Holmes. [A pause. Emily and Jake make inquisitive noises in synch. Music cuts out.] Caldwell: Continue. [Jake laughs nervously.] Caldwell, with increasing desperation: Continue. Continue! Jake, laughing: I don't-- Emily, softly: The what? Murph: The frogs into your-- Caldwell: The Frogson to your Holmes. Jake: Oh. So I-- It's-- Caldwell: The Watson to your Holmes. Emily, with realization: Oooooh. Murph: Good lord, Caldwell. [Jake, Caldwell, and then Emily laugh.] Caldwell: I-- We didn't need to dwell on it is the thing. I just said it casually! [Emily laughs harder.] Murph: Now we have to! Jake: I genuinely just-- Murph: Jesus christ! Jake: I just didn't-- I didn't-- Caldwell: I just don't think it's worth this level of attention. [Murph laughs.] Jake: Frankly I didn't hear it! Emily: I-- it was-- the funny part too, was that Caldwell said it at Jake, and Jake (laughs) did not get it and was nervously laughing (cackles) Murph: Yeah (laughs) Jake: I was-- Caldwell: It was a little views for Jake and honestly, it was not for either of you! [Emily laughing in the background.] Jake: It wasn't that I wasn't laugh-- I truly didn't hear it! [Caldwell laughs.] Murph: I was also mid-description. I was also speaking! Jake: I didn't clock what you said! [Emily laughs harder. Everyone starts talking over each other.] Murph: Good god. Jake: I thought you said "let the frog into your home." Murph and Emily: Yeah! Caldwell: Let's just-- let's just keep it moving. I just think we should keep moving. Jake: You had me like huh? Why did you say that a frog-- Murph: Just like-- let the-- frog homes? What? Caldwell: I just think it would be great if we could keep moving. [Jake laughs.] Murph: (laughs) Oh, yeah, we can keep going. Caldwell: I'm really excited to hear the story. [Emily laughs harder.] Murph: Sweet. So. Calder (Jake): Elementary, dear Frogson. Murph: You guys-- [Everyone laughs] Caldwell: Don't, man. Emily: Callie takes out the shit note. [Everyone laughs harder.] Murph: H--Holmes and Frogson walk around the grounds.

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Wildest Dreams - Epilogue

Word Count: 2k

Themes: an unbelievable about of fluff

Summary: Set two years after the reunion, and Y/N and Sebastian are (finally) getting married

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters are aged up and around 27/28 years old. Quote in bold italics is not mine. It’s from the film Corpse Bride and I love it too much to pass on using it.

Find Part One here and Part Two here

Two Years Later

Sebastian stood by the fountain at the north entrance of Hogwarts castle and couldn’t help but think of the last time he had been here - how it felt like he couldn’t get Y/N out of there fast enough. It was a stark parallel to the present, where he shuffled between his feet with nervous energy and willed her to move a little faster so that he could finally see her. When he approached Headmaster Black about getting married in the gardens he had half expected the man to laugh in his face and reject him. Instead, he clapped him on the shoulder and agreed without a second thought, muttering about how it would do wonders for the image of the school if the Hero of Hogwarts chose to return there for the most important day of her life. Sebastian itched to shake him off and find a different venue instead, but he knew Y/N wanted nothing more than to get married in the first place she had truly called home, and so he begrudgingly thanked his old Headmaster and informed him of their plans. 

They had decided to get married in the summer, partially so they wouldn’t disturb any students, but also because it offered them the best weather for their outdoor ceremony. They would have both much preferred a winter wedding so they could see the grounds covered in snow, but decided it would be easier (and warmer) to get married earlier in the year so they didn’t have to worry about constantly casting warming charms. Sebastian had to admit, the summer flowers added a beautiful touch to the whole affair, his eyes darting over the different array of colours in the gardens around him. 

“Stop moving so much,” Ominous nudged him gently. “You’re making me nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” Sebastian laughed and nudged his friend and brother back. “I’m so sorry for putting you out on my wedding day.”

“Apology accepted.” Ominis smirked at him, his head tilting to the side slightly as the guests in front of them talked amongst themselves. Sebastian began to fiddle with his cufflinks as he watched their guests arrive and take their seats, nodding in greeting to those who caught his eye. “You seem jumpier than usual, are you alright?”

“I can’t wait to see her.”

“I remember that feeling.” He smiled softly to himself as he remembered his own wedding day with Anne, how anxious he had been as he waited for her arrival. He would have much preferred to run away and elope as opposed to having all the attention on them both, but he knew she wanted a proper ceremony and he wanted to do things right by her. “We should be starting soon. Are you ready?”

“I was ready the day she said yes.”

“You’re not going to burst into song, are you?”

“Shut up, you prick.” The pair laughed as the music that was playing quietly in the background swelled and a hush fell over the guests. The officiant walked over to Sebastian and Ominis, a large smile on his face as he shook both of their hands and they waited for the bridal party.

Sebastian watched with bated breath as the doors to the castle swung open right as the enchanted instruments started to play the bridal march. The guests stood and turned to watch Anne walk out first, gently leading both of her twins down the aisle. Arabella threw flower petals at random intervals while Alexander clung to his mothers skirts, a toothy grin coming over the toddler’s face as he noticed both his father and his uncle waiting at the other end of the aisle. Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh as Alexander wrapped his arms around his knees while Arabella ran for her father, the rest of the flower petals forgotten. He scooped his nephew into a hug and pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek before passing him off to Anne who gave his arm a gentle squeeze before standing on the other end of the altar. 

Poppy and Imelda came out next, both of them looking beautiful in their bridesmaid dresses, with the former giving Sebastian an encouraging smile as the latter sent him a glare and mimed that she was watching him. He chuckled and pulled both of the girls in for a hug before they joined Anne, muttering to Imelda about how he knew she was secretly pleased they had finally decided to tie the knot. She flicked his shoulder, but there was an obvious smile on her face as she stood by Anne and Poppy. The music swelled and went quiet for a few moments before picking up again softly as Y/N appeared in the doorway.

Sebastian felt all the breath leave his lungs as she came into view and he unconsciously pressed a hand to his chest as she caught his eye and gave him a heart stopping smile. He felt his eyes burn as she started to walk towards him slowly and willed the music to play faster so she could reach him quicker and he could take her in his arms. Y/N had always been the most beautiful girl he had ever seen - even back when he had first met her - but the words did not do her justice in that moment as she practically floated down the aisle towards him. 

“Breathe, Sebastian.” Ominis nudged him gently and he took in a shaky breath and quickly reached up to brush away a tear before it could escape. He couldn’t look away from her even if he wanted to. He would never be able to put into words how absolutely ethereal she looked, her white dress almost glowing in the afternoon sun. Y/N (finally) neared him and took his hand and Sebastian was hit with a sudden moment of realisation at just how lucky he was. He was so much closer to spending the rest of his life with his best friend and he couldn’t wait. 

“Hey, you.” Y/N smiled shyly at him as she took her place by his side, his hand clutching onto hers tightly. Her gaze softened as she noticed the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes and reached up to brush them away gently. “Good tears, I hope?”

“Merlin, yes.” Sebastian breathed, his voice cracking slightly due to his emotions. “The best.” He resisted the urge to tug her against him and kiss her like they weren’t surrounded by their friends and family, and instead settled on standing a little closer than necessary and pressing his lips to her knuckles softly. “You are stunning.” 

“Look who’s talking.” Y/N’s gaze ran over his suit appreciatively and his grip on her hand tightened fractionally as he remembered that they needed to get married first before he could whisk her away and have his way with her. He was vaguely aware of the officiant starting the ceremony, sharing anecdotes about love and friendship that he couldn’t pay attention to as he stared at the woman standing in front of him. He didn’t know what he had done in a past life to deserve her, but he would spend every day of the rest of his life - the rest of their lives - showing her just how much she meant to him. 

“I love you,” he mouthed the words, his lips twitching into a smile as he watched her flush delicately. 

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.” He frowned playfully and shook his head as she continued to stare at him with pure adoration on her features. 

Neither of them could believe this day was finally here. If anyone had told Sebastian and Y/N when they first met all those years ago that they would be standing where it all started, surrounded by their loved ones, both of them would have blushed and stuttered in protest; but here they were, and Sebastian could think of nowhere else in the world he would rather be. He always thought his favourite version of Y/N would be her first thing in the morning, and that had been true from the very first moment he had woken with her in his arms two years ago up until that exact moment. Nothing would ever compare to how completely and utterly captivating she was, looking like his own personal divine being.

“...Sebastian?” Y/N muttered his name, a coy smile playing on her face. 

“Sorry. I’m here,” he offered the officiant a sheepish smile and shrugged one of his shoulders while tilting his head in Y/N’s direction as if to say, can you blame me? “Could you repeat that, please?”

“Do you, Sebastian Sallow, take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife? To - ”

“I do.” The minister, as well as their audience, laughed as Sebastian interrupted with a cheeky smile on his face as he glanced at Y/N. He had waited so long for this moment and now that it was here he just wanted to skip forward to the most important part. He knew he should be a little more patient and show some restraint, but had been waiting for this for longer than he would ever admit. He wanted to be able to finally call Y/N his wife.

“Very well, then.” The preacher turned to Y/N, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Sebastian Sallow to be your husband? To live together in matrimony, to love, honour, comfort and to keep in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” A tear slipped down Y/N’s face as she took in the look of pure devotion on Sebastian’s face. She had never been more sure of a decision in her entire life.

“You each have a ring for the other,” the officiant looked between the pair, taking note of both of their living smiles and unshed tears. “These are placed on each other’s fingers as a visible sign of the vows which you have taken today which have bound you both together as husband and wife. I hope they always remind you of your promise and love for each other.” He looked over at Sebastian, who in turn took the ring from Ominis’ outstretched hand. He thought his hands would shake during this part, but they remained steady as he slipped the ring on Y/N’s finger, his heart thumping in his chest as he did so. 

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” He brushed a stray tear from Y/N’s face and gently kissed the piece of jewellery before letting her turn to Anne so she could get his ring. 

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” She repeated the vow back to him, her voice wavering slightly as she slid the wedding band onto his ring finger, the metal gleaming in the afternoon sun.

“I’ve been told you have both been through many adventures together, but let us begin this one with a kiss. I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Sebastian was already tugging Y/N towards him before the words were finished, both of his hands resting on her waist as he dipped down to press his lips to hers. He thought his heart was about to beat out of his chest as she wound her hands up to the back of his head and pulled him in closer, the crowd fading out of his mind as he held onto her tightly. Imelda whistled loudly as their kiss lasted long enough to be indecent and Y/N broke away to laugh, her face flushing as Sebastian tried to chase her lips and pull her back into another kiss. She grinned at him and pressed a sweet, chaste peck on his lips.

“How do you feel about being a married man, Mr Sallow?”

“You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, Mrs Sallow.”

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [2].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst if you squint, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, multiple instances where personal space is invaded HAHAHHA, the boys are very dramatic please understand their yearning hearts. WORD COUNT. 4.5k.

NOTE. woohoo! next chapter to this shitshow! some parts may be a bit confusing and vague....sometimes ominous....but all will be known in due time HAHAHHA (may be tempted to give a spoiler or two if u ask). hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far!

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 2 — these meet-cutes aren’t cute at all.

YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO READ LIPS. But you don’t need to know how to get the idea that Taehyun is shooting an insult at you right now. His face says it all. “I said you look like hell,” he repeats after you’ve removed your headphones, the music still leaking out even after you’ve settled it down the cemented table. 

“Taehyun’s right,” Gaeul pipes in, and Woohyun seconds it. “You look like crap. What did you do last night?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you grunt, melting into the table. The sound of Yeong-Il’s Second Life is still just barely playing in the background thanks to your loud as fuck headphones volume. “We finished our exams. Of course I stayed up until six in the morning watching dramas.”

Three disappointed stares and one of full respect. “Dude, you’re crazy,” says Huening. “What did you watch? Night Has Come? My Demon? You should’ve invited me. I feel betrayed.”

“Both,” you reply, but you don’t seem all too happy after consuming over twenty episodes worth of dopamine. You’re frowning. You slam a fist down the table and let out a groan. “But they don’t fill the Choi Soobin shaped hole in my heart— fuck! Why isn’t he getting employed? Why hasn’t he been posting on his Insta? It’s been six months since his last drama. I miss him already.”

Huening’s attempts to console you consist of a few pats on your back. Gaeul’s attempt is a lot more effective. “Didn’t you win a slot to Choi Yeonjun’s fansign this weekend? Aren’t you coming?” You spring up with a gasp. “Girl, don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I did! I fucking forgot because I have a deadline on the same fucking day, fuck! I want to die. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Are you still going?” asks Woohyun.

“Of course she is! Deadlines come ten times a week, but the chance to meet Choi Yeonjin comes one in a million!” Gaeul exclaims, then grabs you by the shoulders with a very serious look on her face, as if she wasn’t just disappointed that you sacrificed sleep just to watch a bunch of dramas. “Tell him I’m in love with him. No, wait, I need to tell him that in person. Tell him to wait for me. I’ll get in next time for sure.”

You whine out something that sounds like an agreement. “I haven’t prepared an outfit yet. This is so depressing. Gaeul, help me.”

Taehyun, who doesn’t share any of your unhealthy fixations, still hasn’t crawled out from his state of disappointed concern. “Just make sure you don’t miss your Saturday deadline,” he says. You roll your eyes in response.

“This is me you’re talking to. I may not seem like it, but I have my shit together. You don’t have to worry.”

They hate to admit it, but it’s true.

Your friends have always wondered how you managed to balance your hellish course load, your evening shifts at The Grind, and your hobby of fangirling over pretty and good looking men. The only reason you were able to binge two dramas until daylight is because you’ve finished all your midterm requirements before taking your exams, and you’ll definitely be able to attend the fansign because you’ll somehow finish a thirty-page paper in one day, in between classes and your work shifts.

They’re quite convinced you’re insane. The lifeless look in your eyes as you flit through your flashcards to review for a recitation later is a testament to that insanity.

But sometimes, a little spark of life manages to slip through.

Like right now, as you check a notification in your phone in the middle of reviewing.

“Shit, fuck, shit— oh my god. Yeong-Il dropped an interview, fuck, hold on—”

“Whoa, really?’ Woohyun digs his nose next to you. You guys have a graded recitation in thirty minutes, and you’re walking to the classroom with a blank face zeroed in at your phone screen in landscape instead of the flashcards you have now tossed away into your bag, paying no mind to your surroundings to the point that Gael and Huening have to make sure you’re still walking in the right direction.

Taehyun isn’t sure whether to be impressed or concerned. They can’t even tell you off because they know you’ll somehow find the answers to Prof Yang’s questions anyway.

APPARENTLY, THERE’S A CAR ACCIDENT OUT FRONT. On top of having a tiring day of rehearsals and the interview with Beomgyu exposing his delusions on the internet being dropped earlier (they didn’t edit it out, those rats), Yeong-Il isn’t having a good day, so it’s to no one’s surprise the the tension inside their van on the way back to their dorms is rather palpable.

Beomgyu, however, doesn’t feel said tension. Or maybe he just doesn’t care because he’s closing his eyes, ready to nap while all the rest of the vehicles surrounding theirs are honking their horns, and while Jeongin and Jimin are monitoring the interview on a phone. The part where Beomgyu talks about his alleged first love comes up. “Beomgyu,” Heeseung groans, covering his ears with a neck pillow. “Did you really have to say all that?”

“Ahh, quit nagging. No one’s even taking it seriously,” he grumbles, arms crossed and turning over his body to face the window instead of his bandmates.

“Yeah, people are just raving about how romantic Beomgyu is,” says Jimin.

“And making edits of him and Heeseung,” adds Jeongin. “They’re mistaking your stressed-out glances at Beomgyu as signs of unrequited love—”

Heeseung shoves a hand against Jeongin’s face to shut him up. “Still. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.”

“Nyenye. You should be more careful of what you say in front of the camera, Gyu.” 

They’re friendly as usual. Heeseung can’t put in the last word because Beomgyu has completely transformed into a sleeping position— yet he can’t seem to sleep and rest despite being absolutely fucked out and tired. He lets out a groan, squirming in the car seat. “Ugh.” The car still isn’t moving. The road is still a mess. All he wants is to rest as soon as possible, and he can’t even have that. All he wants is to see you again as soon as possible, and he’s starting to feel like he can’t have that as well.

Beomgyu gives up. He begrudgingly opens his eyes and looks at the state of the traffic out the window. It’s getting dark. Streetlights are being lit up one after the other, and he watches people moving faster than the frozen cars, like the road and the sidewalk are on two separate spaces of time.

A thought enters his head. What are the chances that you’ll be one of the people walking along the sidewalk right now?

“They’re making way for an ambulance.”

It’s a fruitlessly hopeful thought, he knows. It’s a silly possibility to entertain. But still. He can’t help but examine each of the faces passing by in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, his wish from four-hundred years ago will finally fucking come true. 

“Damn, when are we getting home?”

Right when Beomgyu gives up hoping and tries to fall back asleep again, he spots a familiar face walking down the sidewalk. Wait a minute—

“Man, this sucks.”

He jolts up, There’s no way. There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize that expression— stone-cold, looking as if the very thing in front of you is a worthless bug waiting to be stepped on, warding away any possible attempts of anyone bothering you. There are no knives in your hands, but a phone and a paper bag. You’re not adorned in the blue, red, white, and gold like he’s used to, but a large coat draped over your shoulders.

Still. Even if your face is covered by a mask, or if you’ve inhabited the body of a completely different person.

“Beomgyu, wanna play are round when we get—”

There’s no way Beomgyu wouldn’t recognize you.

Looks like the chances are high after all.

“Beomgyu?!”

The van door slides open. Beomgyu feels the cold air hitting his face as he rushes in between the gaps of the traffic-saddled cars and the spaces in between. He hears Heeseung and Jeongin and Jimin calling after him but he doesn’t give a shit. Not now. Not when he’s sure he finally has you within reach, closing in the gap between you before you can disappear into a corner. Not when all he has to do is stretch out his hand, breath caught in his throat and heart racing, and pull you by the arm so you can turn around and look at him.

And you do.

Your phone crashes to the ground, and you’re looking at him like you want to punch him in the face. Beomgyu’s heart skips a beat.

“What the hell?!”

“It’s you.”

Beomgyu watches your brows knit together, your mouth falling into a sneer. It’s like looking into a time machine. Holy shit. 

“It’s really you.”

That look of annoyance. There’s no denying it. Night has fallen. The only thing illuminating your face is a single streetlight hanging above, but he’d be stupid to mistake you for anyone else. The arm that shakes his hold off is yours. The eyes that are glaring at him— sharp as knives— are yours, yours, and yours alone and he can get lost in them for hours on end. “The fuck? Do I know—” 

Your name falls from his lips for the first time in centuries. It’s always been blurry, always at the tip of his tongue the moment his memories from four-hundred years ago came crashing back to him like a storm. But now, it comes off naturally the moment he sees you. It rolls off his tongue like it’s the only thing he was ever meant to sing.

He says your name once more. Your eyes widen in alarm.

“Are you a stalker?”

“I love you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I love you,” he repeats, breathless. “My biggest regret was failing to tell you how much I loved when I still had the chance.”

“What the fuck? What are you—”

Beomgyu reaches out for your hands, tugging you closer. Your skin burns him. Warm. Alive. “Now that I’ve been given that chance, I’m not letting go of you anymore.” He pauses, practicing the words inside his head before saying, “Let’s get married.” 

“What?!”

“I love you. I missed you. Let’s get married right now.”

You don’t say anything. You’re silent. Beomgyu feels his stomach wrench and drop and hurt all the way to his chest and lungs because why—

Why are you looking at him like that? 

“I’m going to call the fucking cops.” Once again, you shove him off, pulling your hands back and pressing them close to your chest. “There’s a crazy fucking bastard on the— shit! My phone! The screen is cracked, gosh! I haven’t even finished paying for it, for fuck’s sake, you have to— ex—excuse me, are you crying? Are you actually crying? What the hell?”

Beomgu’s vision is cloudy and his cheeks are wet. He knows you’ve always been spunky. You’ve always had an attitude and you two didn’t start off on the right foot, either. But why are you acting like you don’t know him? Like he’s some sort of fucking stranger? 

“Hey, I should be the one crying right now! You broke my phone! What is wrong with—”

“There you are!”

Suddenly, he doesn’t see you anymore. Heeseung’s voice comes crashing in and he gets shoved aside, eyes stinging and mind still in a daze. “I’m so, so sorry for my friend over here. We can’t pay for the damages right away, but please take this. Again, we’re so sorry! Hope you have a great night, still!”

No. He can’t let you slip away again. Not when he can finally hold you in his arms like all the countless times he hasn’t. “Dude, what are you doing?!” Heeseung yanks him back before he can run after you down the sidewalk. “Quit being weird. Why the hell are you crying?”

Beomgyu is having a hard time understanding. He’s not sure if he can’t, or if he simply doesn’t want to believe this— but your eyes don’t lie. He can tell if you’re annoyed by him just by looking at you. He can tell if you’re angry, regretful, elated, or drunk from the onslaught of his affections, so this time— he can clearly tell as well.

He can tell just from the look in your eyes that you don’t remember him.

That all those years of waiting for you was all for naught.

SOOBIN KNOWS THAT HE SHOULDN’T BE HERE RIGHT NOW. He knows that he’s supposed to be on a diet, and he knows that he has a photo shoot for a magazine this weekend. He even got rid of his stash of instant ramyeon because of that, deleted all those delivery apps because this’ll be his first schedule after a few months of taking a break.

But he is here, at one in the morning, in between the isles of the 7-Eleven nearest to his apartment building, because cravings sometimes trump rationality, and god he sure is craving for a cup of noodles. Or two. Two sounds good. And since he’s already here, might as well put a pack of milk bread in his basket. A can of Sprite too. Manager Lee is gonna kill him, but at least he’ll die full and satisfied.

“Hey, hold the door open for me.”

“Don’t you have hands?”

“Nice! They have empty seats outside. Waiting here. Buy me some donuts.”

Ah, shit. Soobin pulls his hood over his head and readjusts his mask. Sounds like a group coming in. He should pay later once the store’s emptier— meaning, he has no choice but to browse for more snacks to add to his basket. Totally not because he wants to, no. 

“Why’d you bring your laptop all the way here? You can continue working in Woohyung’s apartment.”

“Yeah, girl. There’s still a lot of time before the deadline.”

Soobin doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but the voices are talking pretty loudly. He’s dropping a few packets of yakgwa cookies into his basket while listening to a group of college students mourning about their courses. Good thing he chose not to pursue tertiary education. 

“I need to finish this as soon as possible if I want to attend the fucking fansign. Crap, I should’ve switched majors when I had the chance.”

He abruptly stops snack surfing. Wait. Pause. Hold on.

“Should’ve done that before junior year.”

“I know. Shut up. Get me a popsicle, please. Chocolate. Thank you.”

That voice—

“They ran out. Only strawberry or melon. Pick one”

“That’s fucking balls.”

“You’re so eloquent.”

“Suck my fucking dick.”

Okay. Nevermind. It’s kinda weird to hear a voice that sounds eerily similar to the love of his life’s saying so much obscenities. You only spoke pretty words to him before, so maybe he’s just tripping. There’s no way you’d swear so much, so he continues browsing the snack aisle. Maybe he just misses you so much that he’s starting to mistake a similarly sounding voice as yours and subconsciously letting his hopes up.

“Hyun, by the way. I forgot to mention. I met a Choi Beomgyu lookalike last night on the way home from work. It was fucking wild.”

Then again, he thinks, arm paused hovering above a bag of chips. People didn’t really say suck my fucking dick in Joseon era.

Soobin stops filling his basket and starts moving out of the aisle, following the sound of your voice.

“I almost fell in love on the spot, but the guy wasn’t right in the head, I think.” Closer. You’re starting to sound closer. “He knew my name. He kept acting like he knew me and asked me to fucking marry him? I even dropped my phone because he scared the shit out of me. I don’t know, it was wild.”

Where? Where are you?

“Dude, really? No way.”

“I’m serious! I’m telling you—”

Where the hell are you?

“I even got a card from his friend when he dragged the Beomgyu clone away. I have it here, take a loo— wait. Wait. Isn’t BH the agency that manages Yeong-Il? Am I wrong— oh, sorry!”

There you are.

There’s a stain on his hoodie. Bright pink. It matches the popsicle you’re holding, the varsity jacket you’re wearing, and the color painting his cheeks because you’re right in front of him. You’re actually right in front of him right now— face flushed with panic, eyes rapidly blinking. “Are—are you Choi Soobin?” someone says. Not you. You’re still profusely apologizing while trying to wipe away the stain with your jacket sleeve.

“That’s ridiculous, Huening. Go get me some tissues! I’m so, so sorry, oh gosh. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You’re here. It’s actually you. His heart is racing. He can’t fucking breathe. He’s not sure if he should cry, scream, or all of the above.

But there’s something different. There’s something wrong.

“I can tell Choi Soobin from a picture of his ear! I’m telling you it’s him!” Your attention is pulled away by your companion tugging on your arm. “You’re Choi Soobin, right?! Jipuragi? Figured Obscurity?”

“Dude, you’re making him uncomfortable! Why in the world would Choi Soobin be—”

Soobin pulls down his mask, tugging on its fabric. When you turn back to look at him, your popsicle drops to the ground and you let out a gasp.

Your eyes are shining. You’re beaming. You do recognize him. You do know him.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m such a big fan.”

Just not in the way he was hoping for.

“Y—yeah. Would you like a picture?”

You let out a squeal. So does your friend. This isn’t how Soobin expected his reunion with you to go about. This is wrong. He had it all planned in his head like a screenplay, and all that was left was to execute it without fail.

The moment he sees you, he was supposed to spin you around and hear your laughter fluttering in the air. He was supposed to hold you in his arms and give you the first kiss he’d been saving in this life because he’s been waiting for you all this time, yearning for years and years to give you the life he wasn’t able to in the past. To make up for everything you missed because in this life— there’s no class system to keep you apart. There’s nothing stopping him from loving you out in the open.

He didn’t expect to give you his autograph and take a fan selca with you after years of waiting.

This is so wrong. This is so freaking wrong.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” who he assumes is your friend says, and you’re smiling so, so brightly while looking at the photo of you and him that everything he wishes to say and profess and confess just lodges in his throat, blocking everything in its path.

“Thank you! Don’t worry, we won’t post this anywhere,” you say. Soobin holds back the inhuman urge to tell you why settle for a photo, when you can have him instead?

“S—sure. Anytime.”

“Ah, we should probably give you some privacy now. Huening, stop gawking! Anyway, fighting! We’re looking forward to your upcoming dramas!”

Just like that, you leave. You walk out of the store and join the rest of your friends outside, and he sees you showing off the signature he left on your receipt from the window, when he could give you so much more than that, when you could show off that you already own his entire heart. This...this really isn’t how he wanted to reunite with you. And the underlying reason for it something he doesn’t want to entertain.

“YEONJUN, YOU’RE UP IN TEN,” says a staff member. It’s the last week of promotions, and Yeonjun is getting his hair and makeup retouched one last time before he’s set to go uponstage to open the fansign. His manager tells him not to do anything stupid, or scandalous, or all of the above onstage— an almost everyday reminder that Yeonjun, more often than not, isn’t interested in listening to.

“Noona, you should trust me more,” he reacts, a slight whine in his tone. Manager Kim’s expression is nothing but dubious.

“At the very least warn me before you do something insane so I can prepare.”

“Will do,” Yeonjun grins, and his manager waves him off. Screams erupt the moment he emerges from behind the stage curtains, and everything else just comes naturally for Choi Yeonjun— not needing to second guess when he blows a kiss mid-performance, stirs the crowd with a comment or two, and making sure that all eyes are on him, almost as if he was born on every stage he steps foot on.

And to think he started this career without any desire for stardom.

Now, there’s nothing he desires more than blinding lights and the visceral sounds of cheers.

“A—ah, hello!” 

Well. There is one thing.

“Crap, I—I’m so nervous I don’t think I can breathe.”

“Oh no,” replies Yeonjun to the fan sitting before him, marker in hand as he flips open the tabbed page on the nth album splayed out on the table. “Should I give you CPR to help you start breathing again?” 

The girl lets out something sort of a squeal. He grins out a laugh and asks for her name and if she’s eaten anything yet.

“Thank you! Oh— oh, wait, one more thing—”

“Next!”

It’s a fast paced rotation. It always is. But Yeonjun uses the split second before the next person carousels in front of him to make a quick scan across the people lining up, across the people waiting in the audience seats, clinging onto the sliver of probability that this may finally be the day where his years of yearning for the ghost of past can finally end— well overdue for god knows how long already. 

He reuses and rehashes the same lines, same dialogue, and same greetings for the next person, and the next person, and the next and the next and the next. It’s just one face after another. Not that he’s bored, or unappreciative of the fans that spent their time (and truckloads of money) to see him. But it’s human to feel a sense of disappointment when the face he wants to see doesn't turn up after the fifth, tenth, seventh, hundredth, thousand, nth face, fansign after a fansign.

“Next.”

His wrist is getting sore, back is getting tired, but Yeonjun readies himself for another round of mindless chat, missing the opportunity to do his routine scans when he closes his eyes to roll back his shoulders. 

“Oh.”

Yeonjun hears the voice in front of him say. It’s a singular syllable, not even a word, but it’s enough to snap him wide awake.

“Oh my gosh,” you say again. Yeonjun doesn’t feel his fingertips. “You’re even prettier up close, whoa, this is crazy.”

He’s frozen. The usual ments and words and lines that usually flow naturally off his tongue don’t come. His brain is empty. The ink from his marker seeps into the album page underneath his numb hands. He hears his manager say something, but his manager’s voice is so far away— so, so, so far away, but the face he;s been yearning for in his memories is now, all of a sudden and without warning, within an arm’s reach, right before his eyes.

The marker stumbles out of his grasp. If Yeonjun reaches an arm out right now—

“U—uh.”

—he’d be able to touch your face.

“O—oh, holy shit, okay so we’re doing this now.”

And he is. The very feeling of your soft skin, unchanged from the feeling stored in the capsules of his memories, burns stronger than the adrenaline he feels when he’s onstage under the spotlight.

It’s real. You’re real.

You’re right in front of him right now.

“Choi Yeonjun, what the hell are you doing?!”

The hiss of his manager from behind is ignored when he suddenly springs up from behind the table, and you let out a yelp when he drags you up along with him. He’s holding both of your hands, thumbs brushing over the ridges of your knuckles before pulling them closer to his chest. There’s whispering in the background, along with the snaps and flashes of the numerous cameras littered everywhere in the venue.

“Yeonjun.”

He pays no mind to them. Instead he brings up your hands to his face and presses a kiss onto your knuckles. 

There’s a scream and gasp and a yell coming from somewhere. 

“I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

But all he’s focused on is the swirls in your widened eyes, dizzy and taken aback, voiceless with your mouth hanging open. Yeonjun furrows his brows. “Why don’t you look happy to see me, my love?” You hack out a hard cough and Yeonjun drops your hands in surprise. “What’s— what’s wrong?” he stammers, leaning forward and closing into your face while you turn away from him, digging more unease into his bones because this...this doesn’t seem right.

“Sh—shit, I think I need to sit down, oh my god,” he hears you say, and it hits him. Yes. You were never good at expressing your affection. Yes, yes. Perhaps you’re just overtaken by a surge of emotions, that your appearance looks like that of constipated confusion of trepidation as a result of being overwhelmed by the fact that you’re so in love with him and that you’re happy to see him again.

Yes. That must be it. You’re both sat back down, and he scribbles something on your now ink-stained album. “Next.” And when you’re just about to bow and leave, he says your name— one that he thought he’s forgotten— and you freeze.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he laughs. “There’s no need to be shy. Should I kiss you again to ease your— ack!”

“Next! Next person!” 

Suddenly, you’re being scurried away. “No, wait!” he yells out, but the moment he tries to get up again, he’s jerked right back.

His manager is holding the back of his collar, and you’re disappearing into the crowd. Was…was Manager Kim always this strong? He can’t even budge, can’t even run after you after he’d finally been reunited with you again.

“Choi Yeonjun, that’s enough!”

He blinks, remembering belatedly just where he is right now.

There’s still a line of people waiting for him. Yeonjun drops back to his seat, his manager losing her grip on his shirt, and he brings himself back after a round of inhales and exhales. It’s alright, he thinks to himself. It’s gonna work out. “Sorry about that,” he hums, smiling at a now different face sitting in front of him. “What did you tell me your name was?”

You’ve been separated from him yet again, but this time it’s fine. He’s not anxious. He’s certain that it won’t take centuries for you to return to each other, no— it won’t be long until then because this time, he’s not dead. 

You’re both still alive at this point in time.

And that enough assures him that he’s going to find his way back to you.

“Next!”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[felassan]

Dragon Age: Vows & Vengeance [narrative podcast] trailer transcript

(Update: this post has been edited/updated based on information we learned during podcast Episode 1)

Drayden[?]: [water dripping down the walls in a damp room] "This chamber... It feels different from the cave. I can sense... something. The Veil is thin here..." Trailer Announcer: [music swells] "From the world of Dragon Age comes a new tale." Unknown Speaker: [leafing through papers as metal strikes metal in the background] "Nadia Carcosa. Wanted by Tevinter authorities for crimes of theft, high treason, and murder." Varric Tethras: "Who the hell is Nadia Carcosa?" Nadia Carcosa: "So, what's the mark?" Olen: "The Eye of Kethisca." Nadia Carcosa: "What in the world is the Eye of Kethisca?" [ominous whispering in the background] Solas: "The Eye was made from a rare gem mined here in the caves beneath us. It was crafted centuries ago by a powerful Dreamer." Neve Gallus: [crickets chirping in the background. there is a whooshing sound] "Magister Andante?" Elio Andante: "What's going on?" Neve Gallus: "It's about Nadia. She's about to do something quite reckless." [sound of arrows flying, hitting targets, people shouting and crying out; the sounds of battle] Elio Andante: "Listen to me, you've been tricked! This isn't a simple grab-and-go for the money! There are bigger forces at play. We have to put this back and leave!" Nadia Carcosa: "I'm sorry, but I won't let you pay for my mistakes!" [sounds of the battle, louder now. An explosion. Many people cry out] [a dragon roars] Trailer Announcer: "Dragon Age: Vows & Vengeance. An eight episode series, coming soon." Solas: [Dread Wolfy theme music] "Nadia, I presume. I am Solas, and I am, I believe, the one that you seek." Nadia Carcosa: "The name I seek is the Dread Wolf." Neve Gallus: "The Eye - will - destroy you!" Trailer Announcer: "Listen and subscribe wherever you get podcasts."

[source]

[isaacswhy]

i saw on your rules you'd consider writing polyam stuff, so if you feel like it, could you write hc's or something about dating nick & larry? gn reader if possible? tyia if you do!! <3

dating nick & larry hcs :)

whenever they need to convince you to do something/go somewhere, larry plays good cop and nick plays bad cop. it usually works!

both nick and larry send you music playlists all the time. nick does it more than larry, but that's because larry also sends you movie recs. nick's more into tv show recs.

absolute idiots in the kitchen. 80% chance whatever they make will be a disaster and be questionable in taste. the 20% is when they unintentionally create a masterpiece?

larry is more cuddly, but neither of them are too physically clingy. when you're on the couch watching a movie together, usually nick's got an arm wrapped around you and larry is laying his head on your shoulder/lap.

both are more into gift giving. nick does surprisingly sweet and sincere gifts, while larry prefers to buy goofy shit. his favorite is to buy cursed flags off amazon.

you have a group chat with the three of you and it's entirely memes and food orders.

you and larry have an ongoing bit of standing in the background of nick's vlogs and staring at the camera ominously. it takes nick two months to finally figure it out, and he starts to complain about it. but you do it anyways.

dates are.. interesting. the few times you've gotten larry and nick to go on a three-person date, it has been a bit of a disaster. so, you prefer individual dates. but both of them like to take you to the most interesting places they can find in town.

^ if you have to tell one of them that the other has already taken you there, get ready for them to complain about how they've been wanting to you to take there. especially nick.

if you three go out together even just to hang out, there's a coordinated outfit going. nick likes to put the two of you into his merch mostly, but you do try to color coordinate.

so many late night discord gaming calls. even though you could just go to each other's rooms. larry likes to do roblox and other shitty games he can find on steam, while nick prefers a good horror game or chill shooter.

you and larry like to give nick haircuts. they are not pretty, but it always grows out to the curly, pretty mess that you know and love. nick complains about it getting too long, but then ends up with a shaved head because larry convinced you to do it.

nick is the better kisser but larry kisses more. change my mind

this was really fun to write. send more of these!!! i hope you liked them :)

[sherbertquake56]

okay but I need to rant about all of my lore music for a second—

I wish you guys could see how much time I spend before every stream setting up songs. I have to set up the order of all the songs before stream and it’s honestly one of the best ways I get my thoughts in order going into a stream. I gotta think about all the changes of vibes and all the specific conversations I know I want to hit.

I have specific songs for specific people too- either for when I do lore with them or even just talk about them with someone else- the best example of this is Rae and “Infinite Amethyst” I exclusively use that song for Rae or talking about Rae (it’s simply the brothers vibes what can I say) but you won’t hear me playing that song without Rae being a part of it.

And then the other side of it is songs matching vibes. There’s specific songs for /pos or /neg conversations, and songs for panic times or solving science things times. And there’s a lot of songs for Icarus introspection times. I love associating songs with moments- like with Whisper Duo bad times + the little nightmares soundtrack- or Quixis and the wack + the Stanley parable soundtrack-

And the COOLEST THING is when I can use music to set the undertones. (Pavlov style babeyyyy)One of my favorite moments is in the first episode of season 2, when Sherbert “meets” Centross again. The conversation itself is completely harmless, happy, and fun but the music playing in the background? Ominous Bane. In literally 3 notes any of the audience who had watched season 1 recognizes that music as bad vibes and it’s MY FAVORITE THING.

Being able to tell a story and show relationships without even having to say any words is one of the coolest things I’ve been able to do with my audience in my opinion.

….and that’s why I’m a film major lmao

[bigboysfalldeep]

A policemans' tale - Part 3

Two months into his job as a police officer, Lennard couldn't be happier. He's doing a pretty good job at the station, and the chief is also very confident in him and his abilities as a police officer. In fact, he gave him a new partner, one greenhorn who just finished studying, to tell him the ins and outs of the job. Right now, the car is parked in a vacant parking lot. It's noon, and the shift is nearly over. Just two more hours to go. Mario, his new partner, had to go to the toilet, which is why Lennard is waiting inside the car, watching him enter a small gas station.

The sun is shining brightly through the front window, while Lennard is browsing his phone, looking at pictures of himself in uniform. Swiping the pictures away, an ominous feeling washes over him. It feels like hes being watched by someone, something lurking nearby. He looks left and right; there is no one in sight—just a few cars, a bird here and there, but nothing threatening. "Fuck." He chuckles; maybe he's just nervous. However, his body is tensing more and more, and the hair on the back of his neck is standing at attention.

Suddenly, he can hear something deep inside his mind. A noise, a low screeching sound, like somebody is scratching the whiteboard with rusty nails. It gets louder and louder—a pain-inducing sound. He closes his eyes and tries to cover his ears with his hands, but the sound is already echoing through his every thought. Lennard realizes that it seems like somebody or something is calling for him. "Lennard." A familiar yet distant voice mutters again and again.

"What is this?" He groans when the noise suddenly drops. The officer lowers his hands and opens his eyes. Again, no one was in sight. But then. "Can you hear me, boy?" That voice rings through his head once more, causing the cop to shake his head. "What? Who?" Lennard rubs his temple. "Lennard, do you hear me?" The voice says it in a more serious tone. Shaking his head and chuckling nervously, Lennard tries to play it off. "I must be exhausted. Hallucinating." He closes his eyes to concentrate, but then he can feel a presence inside him.

"You're not hallucinating, boy." The voice smirks. "I've been here for a while now." Lennard shakes his head and looks around. Where is he? "You cannot see me, boy." The man laughs mockingly. "It's inside your mind." Still chuckling nervously, Lennard looks into the rear view mirror, and inside his eyes, he can see something different. A faint shine is hiding behind them. "Who are you?" He says it worryingly. "This has to be a dream." He thinks to himself. "This can't be." For a few seconds, the voice is quiet before laughter echoes through his mind. "Not a dream, boy. Let me show you."

Lennard's heart beats through his chest; he can't breathe or move when his eyes close shut. He doesn't have control right now, and more and more flashes explode in front of his inner eye. Memories of the past few months The voice lets him live through these moments again. He remembers the first time he went under, inside a similar police car, just one week into this job. He feels his whole body going through it again, his partner chocking him hard, the music playing in the background, the commands. Obey. Relax. Stay calm and follow orders.

His breath quickens even more as he feels himself going under again. His dick turns rock-hard, edging him on, while all of his muscles try to burst through the tight uniform. Then, as it ends, another memory bursts to life. The second time, that man visited him at home. He went under in just an instant, his body already conditioned to follow this man's voice. The same voice as today. Unable to breathe, he opens his eyes and lets out a long, deep groan. "What the fuck are you doing to me?" Lennard shoots loudly, sweating heavily. "Liked what you saw?" The voice mocks, causing Lennard to look at his crotch, his dick bulging and twitching inside his tight pants.

"This is sick!" Lennard protests, but he cannot help but stroke himself firmly again and again. It's written into his mind; hearing the voice of his master is triggering him more and more. "You're a freak!" He hisses, looking around again.

"Im just going to take whats mine, Lennard." The voice smirks again. Lennard closes his eyes for a second, contemplating. "This has got to be a nightmare". He thinks as he feels himself growing weaker. "Don't fight it, boy; you're just making it harder for yourself." Lennard bites his lips and opens his eyes when he feels a familiar warmth spreading through his body, starting at the top of his spine and sending shivers down his back.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" The cop growls as his back gets stiffer. All of his muscles and every fiber in his body are vibrating. "Taking over." The voice speaks calmly. Lennard tries to get out of the car, just away from him.

But somehow, the seatbelt acts as a restraint, growing tighter around his heavy chest. "LET ME GO." He thrashes around, but it's no use. "I love it when they try." The voice laughs, and Lennard's breathing gets heavier as it gets harder to breathe.

At the same time, he is touching himself, his dick getting bigger and bigger the more the warmth spreads through his body. Lennard feels it invading his chest, his abs, and his stomach. "FUCK." He looks down, his pecs hardening, and he tries to get the belt off, or at least his police vest. Still, no use at all. Quite the opposite.

His heart accelerates even more, and he's close to fainting due to pure pressure. It's hot and sweaty inside the car. He gasps for air, for relief, but the warmth keeps spreading right into his thick arms. "No. Please." He cries out as his muscles tense more than ever before. Looking at his sleeves, he can see something move underneath his skin.

Whatever that thing is, it's really inside him already. The warmth then reaches his fingerstips, and his arms go numb. He can't move them or feel them, but in horror, he watches them move again. The hand on his dick intensifies the grab, rubbing the twitching cock now firmly, while the other strokes across his chest, easily sliding underneath the vest to put more pressure on the chest.

"How do you feel now?" The voice mocks him as he's in pain, lonely tears running down his face. "Please, stop." He begs, but that feeling won't stop. Instead, it slowly spreads into his thighs, balls, and further down into his calves, feet, and toes. Lennard kicks violently until his legs go numb too.

He can only sit there, watching his body disobey him. "Nearly there, boy." The voice says, and the officer lets the hand stroke him even harder. Lennard is already sweating; his chest and heart are aching, while his hands wander across his whole body. Then he sees Mario inside the gas station, buying some snacks.

He tries to reach for the horn to make any noise, or maybe the holster around his thighs, but his arms and hands are not responding. "Nice try." The voice giggles. "There is no help for you now."

"Dont. Please." Lennard says, his eyes following his hand towards his cock again, before he grabs himself firmly. His dick is imprinting through the pants along his thighs, and he starts to jack him off. The warmth is still spreading; his chest feels fuzzy now, and his cock is filled with it too.

Still, he can feel the pressure, the pain, and the pleasure with every move of the hand. He shakes his head in one last attempt to break free. "Still so resilient? I like that." The voice laughs, and the feeling stops for a second. Lennard takes a deep breath, hoping for it to be over. But then, so quickly, the warmth spreads into his head and his mind, flooding it with more flashes of past overtakings.

It simply gets too much, and he feels his thoughts being washed away. He drools heavily, and it stains his vest. With his hand still massaging his cock, his eyes lose focus, and with multiple strong thrusts, his body shoots loads and loads of cum right into his briefs, the hot liquid even pressing through their fabric and into the navy blue uniform pants.

For a few more seconds, he sits there, his body stiff and rigid, before it slowly goes limp. Lennard regains his composure, his eyes gain focus, and he moves a hand to steady his heavy head. However, Lennard is gone; it's the voice who's leading that body now. His eyes are shining slightly as he looks into the rear-view mirror, admiring his pretty face.

He moves his hand towards his firm jawline and traces it with one finger while the other hand touches his wet, throbbing cock through the pants. "Finally." He groans, still feeling the pleasure radiating through every fiber of his body.

"I was waiting for this day," he says in the officer's voice, yet not his voice. A mixture of their voices, deep, rough, yet smooth at times. The man starts to touch himself—his chest and neck—feeling his biceps pressing against the tight shirt and vest. "Even better than expected." He smirks, still rubbing his cock firmly. There is a huge wet spot covering his crotch, but this just makes him hard again. And the smell is so good.

Lennards aftershave is easily covering up the faint scent of cum, but it's slowly but surely getting heavier inside the car. He exhales deeply, his body still sore from the hostile takeover. "Fuck, this feels good." The officer leans his head back, enjoying this moment. He licks his lips, taking a closer look at the tattoos, which are beautifully drawn, making him even hotter. Looking at himself in the mirror, he flexes his huge arms one by one.

But then, his eyes spot Mario slowly walking towards the car, some snacks in hand, and when he sees 'Lennard' he smiles. "There he is." 'Lennard" smiles back and quickly picks up his phone from the floor, looking through it for a very special video. The door opens, and Mario gets inside. "It was a mess in there." He says, sitting down, turning his face towards 'Lennard'. "I hope I didn't catch anything." Mario giggles and hands his partner a bag of sweets, but he doesn't respond.

Just then, he notices the state 'Lennard' is in. Messed up hair and face, dranched in sweat, his vest and pants stained, and ultimately a mess. "Are you ok, Lenny?" Mario says, his eyes slowly wandering down his partner's body, catching him stroking his dick through the wet pants while going through his phone. "What the fuck?" he says, but looking into 'Lennards' eyes interrupts him. They're shining ever so brightly—multiple colors at once, it seems. Mesmerizingly, they spin slightly, and it gets worse once their eyes meet. "I never felt better." 'Lennard' smirks, but it's not his usual voice. "Whaat...what happened?" Mario stutters, his eyes pulling back from that burning gaze and back to the hand rubbing that massive cock.

"I took what was mine." 'Lennard' says, placing a hand at the officer's shoulder, right next to his neck. This causes Mario to flinch and look back into those eyes. "Yours?" He says quietly, and 'Lennard' just raises his phone right into his face. "Watch this, and you will understand." The video plays, and instantly, the car is filled with ear-piercing music. The officer tries to pull away, flinching again, but 'Lennard' holds him in place. "Whatt?" He says this, and his eyes stare at the screen. A beautiful spiral dances across the phone, with so many colors swirling around.

"Hold it," 'Lennard' demands, and without hesitating, Mario takes it with both hands. They drop to his lap, but his eyes are stuck at the screen. "Good job, officer." 'Lennard' smirks and reaches for the man's chest. Lovingly, he starts to stroke him underneath his vest, one hand still caressing his neck. "Thats right. Watch it. Good boy. Feels good?" Mario doesn't respond; instead, his mouth opens slightly, and he starts to drool. "Ah, that's good. I see." He says this, stroking him more and more as his body reacts instinctively. The chest grows firm, the nipples hard, and his muscles bulge, with the uniform barely able to contain him. "Big boy, aren't we?"

'Lennard' holds back a low growl while touching his partner's upper body. He feels good, smooth, and young. Mario enters a state of vacancy. That video is made to weaken a man's mind and make him open to programming. And Mario seems to be the perfect subject. His body reacts simultaneously to every single touch, and while he keeps watching that video, he keeps listening to the music. The officer's mind is filled with commands. Obey. Relax. Just give in. That feels so good.

'Lennard's body is reacting as well, with his throbbing cock again tenting inside the uniform. "I love this part." He says this and runs a hand down his trousers. At the same time, he feels Mario's dick tenting as well. "Good boy." He smirks, that twitching cock in his hand. "Can you hear me, Mario?"

"Yes." He says it in a monotone voice, his eyes stuck on the screen. "Good. Were nearly there." 'Lennard' licks his lips, opens Mario's pants, and manages to pull his huge dick out. "Look at that." He wraps a hand around it and gets started. Rhythmically, he moves his hand up and down, starting off slow, with increasing pace and strength. He leans into him, whispering into his ear. "Listen to my voice. You're trained to serve and meant to serve, and that's what you will do. You will follow my orders and my commands. What I say is your wish. What I want is an order. Do you understand?"

Mario's face grimaces due to the pain and pleasure echoing through his whole body. "Yes." He moans deeply, his body tenses, and all of him is pulsating—his mind, his muscles, his cock, every fiber of his being. He begins to thrust against 'Lennards' grip, but he just smirks. "Good. But you won't cum yet. Just when I tell you to. Do you understand?" This makes his body even harder. All of him is ready to cum, ready to serve, but he can't. His eyes lose focus; he drops the phone and leans his whole body back against the seat.

"Officer?" The man says, removes his hand from the erect cock, and places a hand at Mario's neck. In response, he lets out a low, guttural moan. "Now." 'Lennard' says, and with that, Mario's body twitches as his cock explodes again and again. He moans and groans as his eyes roll completely back into his skull. After a few more dry shots, he regains his composure. 'Lennard' is touching himself while watching his newest subject. "Good boy." He pats Mario's cheek, who doesn't react. His eyes are vacant now, but they are shimmering slightly. "Very good boy." 'Lennard smiles, grabs the officers dick, and carefully dresses him again.

He pats his chest and thighs, admiring that man's physique. Then he lets his hands explore the whole body. His arms, hands, shoulders, and thighs; he takes his time feeling his chest, neck, and face, enjoying that smooth skin, the stubble, and soft lips. "Can you hear me, boy?" Mario nods, his eyes looking into the distance. 'Lennard' unzips his pants, pulls them down, including the underwear, and exposes his wet, sweaty, throbbing cock.

"You earned yourself a meal." He says, patting Mario's neck firmly, "He doesn't waste any time. He bends down and takes the cock into his mouth. He knows how to move his mouth, exactly hitting every one of his most sensitive spots. "Fuuuuck." 'Lennard's groan turns into a giggle. He puts a hand at Mario's neck, forcing the whole cock into the mouth, making him gag. This, however, does not interrupt him. He keeps sucking, and after a few more seconds, after all that pleasure before, he cums right into his mouth. Mario swallows it, and 'Lennard' has to tell him to stop.

"Good job." He says, admiring Mario's engagement. "We're going to have fun".

[aflame4goinghome]

Part Of The Band

j.t.k x f.reader

part one

a/n: this is my first time writing Jake and I have to admit that it’s been so intimidating. he was the one I was soooo scared to write, since he’s my main lane. I plan to make this into a series, so I really hope you all enjoy it :)

word count: 5k

summary: your best friend asks you to come with her to a concert for a band that you’re unfamiliar with. your decision to go proves to have more repercussions than you thought when you run into the band at your favorite bar after the show. you never would have imagined the pull that you’d feel toward their guitarist, or that you would somehow manage to capture his attention…

warnings: yearning, some cussing, mentions of alcohol, smoking. some parts are slightly sexually implicit, including: light groping, kissing, and some sexual language. minors beware! the next part will definitely contain smut.

You’ve never been one to pass up on a night out, especially if it involves music. Music is something that you actively search for constantly, it defines you. You’d do anything to just be able to listen to live music, to close your eyes and just feel it flow through your body. Since you lack any actual musical talent besides half-decent singing, you just listen to it as much as you can.

So, when your roommate and best friend, Sophie, asked you to come with her to a concert tonight last minute, you could hardly just say no. Did you have a big midterm tomorrow afternoon that you needed to study for? Maybe. But live music always comes first. Sophie was always finding last-minute concerts for you to go to together- it was kind of your thing. This time, however, it was a band you didn’t really know.

You’re pretty sure you’ve heard one of their singles, Heat Above, online somewhere a few times but that was the most knowledge you had of Greta Van Fleet. You don’t know much about their background or their names, just that they make rock music and that’s all you need to be convinced to go. You and Sophie had always found yourselves at the Greek Theatre for just about any kind of concert, so this wasn’t a new thing for you.

The show is meant to start at 7:00 pm, but Sophie is always determined to be as close to the stage as possible, so you’re getting ready in the afternoon to get there around 2:30 or 3 o’clock. In the name of comfortability, you opt to wear ripped black skinny jeans, a white halter top, and your Doc Martens. You keep your hair down, wavy and lying right below your shoulders. You put on some simple makeup, just to cover up any blemishes you might have, do some tight-lined eyeliner, and put on a bit of your favorite silver eyeshadow. You take a deep breath. Okay, you’re ready.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Sophie calls your Uber over to the Greek and you both arrive there just in time. You see about 50 people there already, so you both know that you’ll have a great spot in the small pit. You guys sit down at the end of the line and make yourselves comfortable to wait in the line for several hours until you’re let into the venue. Late October in LA can be pretty comfortable, today is in the mid-70s, so it isn’t a terrible day to camp out. You and Sophie talk about schoolwork, gossip about your friends, and play various games until it’s suddenly 6 o’clock and it’s time to head into the venue.

The group walks down the steps of the Greek and security has the line start all the way to the left of the pit. You and Sophie end up standing toward the front of the right side of the stage, which you’re perfectly content with. It’s not long before the openers come on- they were all great. The energy in the theatre was amazing and the weather was beautiful, it was like a dream.

Next thing you know, the lights go out and it’s pitch black. The crowd goes wild, screaming for the band to come out. Ominous music starts to play over the speakers and a short video plays on the screens on the sides of the stage. You can tell that the band enjoyed building suspense and it certainly works.

Suddenly, you see a dark silhouette emerge from stage left and appear right in front of your gaze. He’s holding a guitar, stepping up to the front of the stage where you assume his pedals are, and strikes a loud chord, bringing everyone’s attention to him. The lights turn up, with a sole spotlight on him, as he starts to play a dark, hypnotizing melody that almost takes the air out of your lungs. You turn your focus to the drummer and keyboardist entering the stage now, adding to the mix and making the sound grow even larger and darker than before.

The crowd then screams as the singer walks out with an enormous smile on his face. You can immediately tell what fans would love about him, he exudes brightness and kindness from the second you look at him. He begins vocalizing and you’re taken aback by his singing abilities, his voice is truly amazing.

The first verse begins and you decide to turn your attention back to the guitarist. You study the way he moves on stage; how he walks upstage then downstage with this confident strut that you can’t help but feel mesmerized by. You notice a theme of blue in their outfits but are drawn specifically to the design on the guitarist’s suit, covered in stars and astrological symbols of the Taurus, paired with dark boots. It’s honestly beautiful.

As you’re admiring what he’s wearing, you take a moment to truly look at him. He has long brown hair with a slight wave to it, falling an inch or two below his collarbones. His eyebrows are dark and quite thick, knit tightly as he’s concentrating on what he’s playing. His eyes are equally as dark, though it's hard to tell their exact hue from this many feet away.

You catch yourself staring for too long and want to make the effort to shift your eyes elsewhere and as you do, his eyes meet yours. It’s a concert, of course the band is going to make eye contact with their fans, it’s a small pit. But he seems to hold his gaze for several seconds to the point where you think he might actually be looking at you specifically. You give him a shy smile, which he returns, and then moves on with the song.

The rest of the song continues and you think you’re really starting to like Greta Van Fleet, the music is truly fantastic. The singer’s voice is beautiful and like nothing you’ve ever heard before. Suddenly he stops and the guitarist approaches the end of the stage, seemingly for his guitar solo. It’s nothing short of amazing, the way that he plays the guitar is so captivating, it’s like your eyes can’t look away.

You hear the crowd go insane for it, screaming things like “Yeah Jake!” “Do it, Jakey!” “Fuck it up!!” and you’re sure that he’s eating it all up. Jake, you think to yourself. Interesting. It becomes clear that the girls go crazy for him and you know that must give him some sort of complex. He seems so confident and you can’t blame him, with all the praise that he’s receiving- praise that is very well-deserved.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

All of the following songs go the same exact way. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of Jake. You’ve also deeply fallen in love with their music and the love that it emits. You feel very glad about your decision to go to the concert tonight- you can feel that this has changed the course of your life in some way. Throughout the show, you notice that sometimes Jake would catch you watching him, which you didn’t mind. Surely he was used to being watched on stage like that, in amazement and admiration. You truly do admire him and his talent, it’s something very special. All of his riffs are so satisfying to hear and the chords blend so perfectly.

Once the encore ends, the band goes to leave the stage. You watch Jake as he walks toward the end of the stage, which you assume is to hand out his guitar picks before leaving for the night. Much to your surprise, he looks right at you as he leans over and tosses it to you. Your cheeks turn a shade of pink and you look up at him, smiling and thanking him. What a night to remember. You think that this would be it, but you are dead wrong.

You and Sophie turn to exit the pit, which takes some time considering how close you are to the front. You’re eventually able to exit the theatre and wait on the sidewalk for a game plan. “So… you wanna go to the Tavern?” Sophie asks. The Tavern is your go-to bar in Beverly Hills; it has a good atmosphere, great cocktails, and isn’t too far from campus. You and Sophie go there at least once every weekend, they all know your names there. You glare at her with a concerned look, “Soph, I have such a big exam tomorrow, are you serious?” She rolls her eyes, “Come on! Live a little! You’re telling me you don’t wanna at least get a little drunk to take your mind off of it? We just saw an amazing show, let’s go celebrate!”

Sophie always knew how to convince you to do anything, no matter what it was. She knew your weaknesses every time. You groan, “Ugh, fine. But if you have to wake my ass up tomorrow at 2 pm for my exam because I’m too hungover, you'll have no one to blame but yourself.” She smiles wide and says “I know, I know. I’ve already called the Uber to take us there now.” Cheeky girl, she knew she’d convince you.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

It's already midnight by the time you arrive at the Tavern. The last call is always at 1 am so you know that you won't be there too long. You both walk in and find your favorite booth in the back, placing your jackets down before going up to the bar to order your drinks. Sophie orders you both a shot of tequila, then gets herself a margarita. You order a bourbon punch and turn back to take a seat in your booth. You both take your shots when you sit down, then you debrief tonight’s events.

“So, what did you think of the band? Did you like them?” Sophie asks.

“Yeah, it was amazing actually. I don’t know how I hadn’t found them before now. The music that they make is extraordinary,” you reply with a smile. You do have some questions, though. “So what’s their deal? The lore?”

“Oh, well they’re from Michigan. They’re actually brothers, besides the drummer- though they all grew up together. Josh, the singer, and Jake, the guitarist, are twins.” You nod your head. I did think they looked alike, you think to yourself. “Sam is their younger brother, and Danny is his best friend. They’ve been making music for a while but they blew up a lot in like 2019 and then this new album skyrocketed their fame.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. This album is absolutely breathtaking. From what I heard tonight, their music is so mind-blowing. It really took my breath away,” you explain.

“I knew you'd love it. I’m so glad that you’re into them now. Especially Jake, it seemed,” she smirked.

You reach over to smack her on the arm and exclaim, “Sophie! That’s crazy! I don’t know where you got that idea! I was not into him.” The blush that’s made its way to your face tells a different story, however.

“You so were! You couldn’t take your eyes off of him that entire show, I watched you. I think he might’ve been looking at you too, you know,” she jests. Just the thought that Jake might have been actually interested in you made your stomach turn. You shake your head.

“No, Soph. There’s no way. Sure, we might have locked eyes once or twice, but there were thousands of people there. I’m sure he looks at all of his fans like that…” you trail off, wanting to shut this conversation down as soon as possible to save yourself from any further embarrassment. You pick up your glass, which is half empty, then chug the whole thing. “Oh, look at that, my drink is gone. I’m gonna go get another, I’ll be back.” You smirk at her, successfully avoiding the conversation for now, and then get up from your seat to walk back to the bar.

As you approach the bar, there’s a group of men leaning against it, ordering drinks. You go to stand on the right of them to wait your turn and the man next to you senses your presence and turns to look at you. As he turns in your direction, you see the long chestnut hair and are met with dark chocolate eyes. You’re immediately hit with the realization: Oh my god. It’s Jake.

He looks at you and offers a soft smile as a greeting. “Hi…” you manage to let out, looking up at him. “Hey,” he replies. You glance behind him and see the rest of the band. Oh my GOD. Greta Van Fleet is at my bar. You just stand there leaning against the bar for a moment looking at him, unsure of what to say next. You find yourself looking him up and down, analyzing what he’s wearing off the stage.

He has on a different pair of boots now, a light brown color. He's wearing some tattered blue jeans and a navy blue, long-sleeved button-up shirt, of which the top four buttons are undone, leaving his upper chest partially exposed. The lighting in the Tavern reflects off of it in such a mesmerizing way. You realize that you’ve been staring for far too long and go to say something, but luckily he beats you to it.

“Were you at our show tonight? I think I remember your face…” Jake says, looking into your eyes as though he’s piercing right into your soul, studying you. You feel stuck, though you’re not sure why. Up until today, you weren’t a fan of theirs and you wouldn’t have thought anything about this interaction at all whatsoever. So why were you so flustered? You finally work up the courage to answer.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I was there. It was… spectacular,” you say with a shy smile, finally meeting his gaze. He smiles back at you when your attention is suddenly pulled away by the sound of a loud voice coming from behind him.

“You really liked it? I’m so glad. I get so in my head sometimes, y’know, I was so nervous. So it’s lovely to hear that I didn’t totally crash and burn.” The man that you now understand to be Jake’s curly-headed twin reaches over the bar past Jake and extends his hand out to you. “I’m Josh, by the way,” he adds with a wide smile. You reach your hand out to shake his, in total shock that this is actually happening.

“Hi, Josh. I’m Y/N, which I was just about to tell your brother here…” you joke, making him realize that he’d accidentally interrupted something. He makes an “oh that’s awkward” kind of face and pulls at his collar, causing you to laugh. Jake watches as you interact with his twin with a look on his face that you can’t quite place. Like he’s trying to figure you out.

“Sorry about him, Y/N, sometimes he just speaks first and then thinks after,” you hear from further down the bar. You look up to see that voice coming from Sam next to him, who gets a shove from his older brother and erupts into contagious laughter. You watch Danny shake his head, chuckling, and you laugh along with them. Jake looks over at you, smiling. You smile back at him and he speaks up, drawing your attention back to him and him alone.

“What are you drinking, Y/N?” he asks. “Oh, um, a bourbon punch,” you answer. “Another bourbon punch for this lovely lady here, please,” he says to the bartender, “You can put it on my tab.” You look at him in shock and try to protest but he sees it coming, saying “No, I insist. As a thank you, for your support and for making my brother happy for a moment there with your compliment- he’s easy to please.”

He leans one arm onto the counter and smirks at you as the bartender places your drink down in front of you. “Cheers, sweetheart,” Jake says, raising his glass to yours. You glance down at the glass to see what he’s drinking, which seems to be whisky, neat. It suits him. You smile at him and say “Cheers” and take a sip of your fresh drink. His eyes are looking into yours so intently that it almost feels like they’re burning into you. Something about him is so intriguing yet slightly intimidating that you want to learn more.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“Are you here alone?” he asks. “Oh, no, I’m here with a friend. She’s back there at our table.” Jake looks behind you to see Sophie, who has been intently watching this entire interaction unfold. He smiles and gives her a little wave to come over, so she stands up and comes up to the bar. “Would you both like to join us for a round? We have a larger booth upstairs with a few of our friends.” His eyes look down at you for an answer, waiting and hoping for a yes. Before you can answer, Sophie chimes in to answer for you, “We’d love to!” she says, elbowing your side to encourage you to agree and you nod along. “Yeah, sure, we can stay for a bit longer,” you reply, looking up at Jake, who seems satisfied with that answer.

The rest of the guys get their drinks and you follow them up the winding staircase to the large booth that they reserved. When you arrive at the table, you see a few other people waiting there whom you assume to be part of their management, security, and some personal friends. Danny and Sam slide in first to the left to join their friends and Josh goes for an open spot on the right side. Jake extends his hand out, offering for you to take a seat between them, and then slides in on the left next to you. Sophie opts to sit next to Sam on the end, across from you.

You both introduce yourselves to the rest of the group. Their friends seem unsurprised that they managed to make friends in the short time they’ve been in the bar. From the few minutes you’ve spent with them, you can tell that their social and charismatic tendencies would likely often lead to new friendships everywhere they go. It’s something you’re starting to admire about them.

As you’re getting to know the group, it’s impossible not to notice Jake’s eyes on you. He’s studying you as you speak, watching the way your lips move and admiring you. It’s difficult to ignore, though you try your best to. He starts speaking and you turn your head to look at him, taking the time to look him over as well. You look at his eyes, mostly, a mesmerizing dark chocolate color that turns into amber when the light touches them. His nose is straight and pointed, his lips look soft and full.

He catches you staring at him, just for a moment, and uses the opportunity to place his right hand on your knee, exposed by the large rips in your jeans, rubbing small circles on top of it. It makes you jump a little at first touch, startled by his actions. You couldn’t believe this was real life. You look up at him and you both lock eyes. It falls silent for a moment and Josh starts a conversation with Daniel across the table, everyone else engaging and chiming in. Jake takes this opportunity to lean into your ear a bit to talk to you on his own, which he’s been dying to do.

“I know you were watching me earlier, at the show…” he whispers in your ear, loud enough only for you to hear. Your heart nearly stops, but he continues. “It’s okay, you know, I don’t mind it. If anything, I kind of liked it,” he says, his breath feeling hot on your skin. “Maybe I was,” you answer shyly, turning your face toward him a bit so that he can hear you more clearly. Your eyes meet and you watch as his eyes quickly dart to your lips, then back up to look at you once more.

“I was watching you too,” he says, sliding his hand a bit higher above your knee, resting on your inner thigh, slightly gripping it. “Watching you study me… and how my fingers worshipped the strings…” he continues, leaning closer to your ear, his lips grazing lightly over it. Shivers run down your back and continue down toward your core, causing you to silently yearn for more. You inhale deeply, then ask “And what did you think about that, Jake?” saying his name in a honeyed tone, causing him to squeeze your thigh and look deep into your eyes, piercing through them. You knew exactly what he was thinking, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to be absolutely sure that what you thought was about to happen was actually happening.

“Do you wanna go outside for a smoke, Y/N?” Jake asks, slightly loud enough so that the others can hear. Sophie looks at you, smirking; she clearly can tell exactly what’s going on. She nods at you, encouraging you to go. “Uh, yeah Jake, sure,” you mutter, a bit awkwardly. You weren’t expecting him to try and get you alone, you had felt all this time that he was just playing with you. It’s clear now, though, that this was not a game.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

He stands up from the booth and offers his hand to help you up as well. Despite the dark aura that surrounds him, he still appears to be quite the gentleman. You stand up from the booth, shoot Sophie a nervous look, and then turn around to head back down the stairs. Jake follows closely behind you.

You get to the bottom of the stairs and head to the back of the Tavern to go out the back door, to the smoking area. It’s an outdoor patio behind the bar, illuminated with low-lit string lights and decorated with some picnic tables with a few ashtrays. You exit through the door and turn around to face him as the door closes silently behind him. His eyes are darker now, piercing into you as he approaches you. You back up slowly until the backs of your legs hit one of the tables and then sit on the edge of it while Jake takes out a pack of Marlboro Reds and a black lighter from his back pocket.

He pulls a cigarette out of the pack, places it between his lips, and then brings the lighter up to light it. He takes a long drag out of it and blows it to the side, avoiding blowing any smoke in your face, then steps closer to you until he’s standing between your legs, only inches away from you. He puts the cigarette down to sit on the ashtray for a moment and he finally speaks.

“Y/N/ I can’t seem to stop thinking about you. You’ve captivated me from the second the lights turned up on that stage tonight. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you…” he says, bringing his hand up to your cheek and running his thumb along your cheek. He’s watching your eyes, how they look up at him with anticipation, waiting for him. He can feel the power that he has over you.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either… Seeing you for the first time on stage tonight has caused you to completely take over my thoughts ever since. No matter how hard I tried to watch the others, my eyes kept getting drawn right back to you. It was like I couldn’t control it,” you say, glancing down at his lips and then back to his eyes longingly. “I don’t feel like I can control myself around you, baby… I’m being tempted to throw out all of my rules for you,” Jake says in a low whisper, bringing his face closer to yours.

Your eyes look up at his, pleading. He can’t hold himself back anymore, finally closing the gap between you. He kisses you so deeply that it takes the air out of your lungs. He leans into you and his hand that was once on your cheek grasps the back of your neck tightly, causing you to let out a quiet whimper. Just the sound of it lights a fire within him, he takes his other hand to hold your hip in place and groans into your mouth. You place your hands around his neck and pull him closer to you, your bodies now flush together.

Jake pulls away, his face still only a few inches from yours, and tries to catch his breath. His left hand squeezes your hip as the other leaves your neck in order to reach behind you to grab his cigarette, still lit. He takes a drag from it blowing it to the side, but keeps his eyes locked on yours and watches as you stare at his lips when he blows the smoke out. He takes note of your interest in the way he’s blowing the smoke and says, “Open your mouth.”

You immediately obey, knowing you’d do anything he asks you to, and open your mouth. He takes another drag of the cigarette and kisses you again, blowing the smoke into your mouth and you breathe it in as you lean into the kiss. This elicits another moan from him, clearly turned on by the act. He leans into you harder and bucks his hips into you slightly, trying to release some tension. You moan quietly into his mouth at the sensation, your desire starting to pulsate between your legs.

His lips leave your mouth and place kisses along your jaw then down your neck, causing you to let out a small sigh. “You don’t even know what you do to me, sweetheart,” Jake mutters against your skin. He brings his mouth back to yours and kisses you once more, but you pull yourself away.

“Jake… I want this. I want you, but… not now.” He looks disappointed by your words but backs away slightly, sliding both of his hands down to your waist. “I’m sorry, I just- I have this big exam tomorrow and I’ve already stayed out so much later than I ever even intended to. I have to go home.”

He nods his head in understanding, then it seems like a lightbulb lights up in his head. He smiles and says, “Come to the show tomorrow night, then. Please… I need to see you again. I want to see you front and center when I play.” You’re taken aback completely at his kind offer. You know you need to see him again too, and you’d like nothing more than to watch them perform again. You nod your head, “Oh, Jake. I would love to go. That’s so sweet,” you say, smiling bashfully. Jake’s face lights up at your answer, “It’s gonna be a great show, baby. You won’t regret it. I’ll have Jenn email you the tickets as soon as we get back to our hotel, one for Sophie too.” You thank him and place a soft peck on his cheek, causing a hue of pink to form there. You both go back inside and return to your friends upstairs.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

“Soph, you ready to go home?” you ask her. “I really gotta get up for this midterm tomorrow,” you explain to the others, who all nod and wish you luck. Sophie nods and says goodnight to everyone. Jake offers to walk you both out to the bus stop to wait for the bus to take you back to your apartment. Sophie goes to sit on the bench as you wait a bit behind with Jake.

He places a soft goodnight kiss on your lips and you hum into it and smile as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “Here, let me see your phone,” he says, taking it and typing in his phone number, putting his contact name as “Sir Jacob ⚔️”, which makes you giggle. “Text me when you make it home safe, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says with a smirk. “See you tomorrow, Jake,” you reply as he turns back to the front door of the Tavern. He turns back around and gives you a soft smile, and you wave goodbye before he goes back inside.

You turn around and sit down on the bench next to Sophie, who finally wants to know all of the details. The bus arrives and you fill her in on everything on the ride home, causing her to laugh and scream in excitement, much to the dismay of the other exhausted people who are on the city bus at one o’clock in the morning. You tell her that he’s sending you tickets for both of you to go to the next show tomorrow night and that he’s asking security to put you in the front row, which she is so psyched about.

You both finally arrive home and you take your makeup off, put some comfier clothes on, and collapse into bed. What a night, you think to yourself. It was nothing like you ever could have imagined. You turn over and plug your phone in, then open up the messages app and type in “Sir Jacob ⚔️”.

You: home safe <3

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Good. Sweet dreams, beautiful.

You: goodnight, jake

You place your phone down on your bedside table and flop down on your back, letting out a long sigh. You think about your exam tomorrow and the excitement that will come thereafter. You wonder where tomorrow night will lead you as you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. God, what have I gotten myself into?

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

this story will be continued... comment to be added to the taglist! thank you so much for reading!

part two

[betweenlands]

okay, folks! we're home, let's talk about sbk!fool. specifically, the fact that something weird is going on with him. fair warning: this is gonna get long. also there's spoilers.

Fool is kind of a... side character in SBK. he's not directly opposed to OSSHA, but he's not exactly allied with them either. his island partner is Milkman and he's the other Birch Box guy, but he's good friends with Vintage. a lot of what he's done has been attributed to other people.

also, he might just be a huge threat, especially to whatever Olm is doing.

let's back up a little to the part of Avid's ep11 with Fool in it. here's a timestamp.

there's silly music. Kittrix is doing her "i am but a fence" bit. we hard cut to Avid saying "we're gonna need to have the law removed from this situation" and there is no background music. we go further into the scene, Vintage turns to Kittrix as Fool & the Jungle folks are walking off and says "remember that service i told you to sign up for earlier?", and we start getting an ominous synth drone that remains throughout the entire scene. Fool's whole prank slash hitman service is apparently deadly serious business.

this is... really weird. i was there for the Fool stream where this was recorded, and tonally while Fool was definitely being a little bit of a ham, he's also genuinely just like that and was being pretty lighthearted at the time. this scene? this scene is edited in a way that makes Fool seem really ominous, on-par with Avid in the scene an episode earlier where he kidnaps Ruby, and...

speaking of Ruby. their OSSHA clone does not like Fool. here's another timestamp from Leon's ep5, but what's important to know about this scene is stream context again in the opposite direction.

OSSHA Ruby, aka Cloneby and hereby called Tuby because i think it's funny, spent the entirety of their time online during Fool's stream basically stream-sniping him. Fool is not lying when he says they threatened him (even though i kind of had to point that out because it was a little subtle). not only did they show up in-person at Birch to act ominous, they also /msg'd Fool some threatening stuff and kept streamsniping him whenever he tried to go over to Cherry Kingdom and warn Vintage about how weird Ruby was being. this is what led to Tuby showing up at End Kingdom after Fool talked to Leon; Ruby-as-in-the-actual-player was straight up watching stream to know when he left and where he was going.

Tuby has beef with Fool... which is pretty weird considering OSSHA kind of struck a bargain with Birch early on where they could put up "under construction" signs and OSSHA would leave them alone.

okay. so Tuby doesn't like Fool and Avid thinks he's threatening. pretty lowkey so far. for this next part, we've gotta jump around in time, and you've gotta trust me a little -- Fool doesn't upload his VODs anywhere so the only proof i have of these is "i was there at the time."

anyway: this is Fool in the Limbo animatic. notably, this is from the sequence where Olm tells Avid to stop people from falling into the Void.

Fool has different skins for different servers he's on. Skyblock Kingdoms Fool is gold. Fool's PNGtuber is purple, but purple Fool also has a server he's associated with. to be absolutely clear, i am going to make a leap in logic here, bear with me, but this is not SBK Fool. because purple Fool is from Avid Adventures.

deep breath in, deep breath out. here's where stuff gets very "source dude trust me" other than the screencaps i have, so i'm gonna start with the absolute confirmable basics. Olm is the antagonist of Avid Adventures, the command block based adventure map that Avid makes. they are also the antagonist of Avid Adventures, the series about Avid making that map -- they're possessing Avid in that series, in fact, generally being quite ominous about it. i have an entire essay about that but we don't have time for it right now.

Fool, while playing on Avid Adventures, initially only did Dark Path. these VODs are well and truly lost to time, but initially he was doing the Shrouded Isles fully evil, committed to helping Olm largely for funsies. Avid even logged in as Olm to be ominous at him a couple times! in general it seemed like Olm and Fool were kind of wary of each other, but mostly chill -- Fool has a main god he swears allegiance to that isn't Olm, but he's still helping the guy, so there shouldn't really be much of a big issue?

anyway, turns out Olm is really petty. they left him a mean breakup note and everything! (sidenote: Atium's name is entirely my fault. as far as Fool is aware and as far as Fool's lore is concerned, they are a deity of luck, coffee, precious gems, and some other things all totally unrelated to any novels by a certain brando sando.)

anyway then Fool's base gets exploded to bedrock and he respawns in a white void room.

this actually coincided with Avid removing a lot of the shop builds at the original spawn, by the way! lore going forward implies that Olm, either using Avid as a conduit or just in general, straight up thanos style snapped everyone who used to be on Avid Adventures out of existence. one would assume this means this was also Olm trying to delete any trace of Fool.

you may notice that i said that purple Fool is Avid Adventures Fool, not was. this is because Fool does not stay dead -- he respawns! on his boat build next to his exploded base! with every single inventory of every single chest wiped! Olm really did not want him to survive. he and Atium, however, chose life. Atium leaves him a book as well:

Atium's typing style is kind of just straight up delightful, i'm not going to lie. their "blessing" took the form of a Fortune 6 pickaxe titled Atium's Prosperity in rainbow lettering with flavor text reading "A chance at a new life", by the way.

but yeah, uh, Fool and Atium (who is also Fool, it's complicated) just kind of looked Olm in the eye and went "nuh uh," which is insane because this is Olm we're talking about, the dark god most commonly known for destroying an entire civilization in a single night and also constantly telling lies to Nightmares/SBK Avid for funsies. Olm legitimately has straight up destroyed and killed and maybe even eaten other gods before. we have confirmation from Avid that they consumed an entire pocket dimension somehow and that's what led to the creation of Limbo.

and again, purple Fool just kind of said "nuh uh" to all that with the help of his deity, who is also him.

considering it's like 95% certain Olm is in charge of OSSHA at this point, and it's heavily implied that the clones are part of their orders for Avid, there's... a pretty good chance Olm knows Fool isn't exactly someone to take lightly, and that could explain why Tuby is so hostile towards him and Avid is so nervous around him.

then again, maybe it's just because Fool is fun to mess with and good at playing the prankster hitman. who knows?

Atium, probably.

[genderliquid-witch]

Do flowers bloom from walkers? (Radical optimism in The Walking Dead: The Final Season)

I remember playing The Final Season for the first time way back in October of 2022 and immediately being blown away by how polished the game was in comparison to its predecessor. I mean I had always loathed the visual style of A New Frontier, so this comic-book inspired look was a nice change of pace, especially once combined with the expert use of lighting that is present throughout the game. But what really took me off guard, more so than anything else, was the opening credits.

I mean, obviously; these games had never done anything like this before. And while I'm fond of the whole FADE IN TITLE ACCOMPANIED BY OMINOUS MUSICAL CUE, this was a welcome change. But there was one specific image that stuck with me throughout my playthrough: the decomposing walker (pictured above), painted in greyscale, with the only colour being the stark red background and the yellow flowers blooming from its corpse. I like to think that it was an intentional decision that ties into the game's themes and not just "Oh this looks cool, let's do it", but it weirdly never came up again. So I was kind of just left to play the game while it loomed in the back of my head, waiting for its moment to shine.

It wasn't until almost a year later where I'd figure out what the image represented, or at least my interpretation of it, and I settled on this conclusion: this decomposing walker is supposed to represent this apocalyptic world, and the flowers symbolise the people that attempt to build from it, in this case the Ericson's kids.

I've had this opinion for a while that if the first three games show the attempts and failures to re-establish the old world ideals of order and civil society, then The Final Season serves as a rejection of that idea. From the walker-ridden fortress of Crawford in Season One to the bureaucratic nightmare that was the New Frontier, it's an accepted fact that these attempts at returning to the methods of days gone is ultimately futile and will result in total collapse, largely due to the decisions of its rulers. While we could argue about which of these groups is truly the worst, they all originate from the same basic principle: a desire to return to normality. Crawford, Howe's, the New Frontier; these groups were formed by people who, while cruel and monstrous in their own ways, all had the admittedly noble goal of attempting to return order to this ravaged world, but failed due to their leaders' cruel and selfish actions.

Or did they? (Vsauce sfx)

There's this interaction Lee has with Katjaa in the very first episode of Season One that has stuck with me for a while. It's an optional dialogue so it's very easy to miss (I did on my first playthrough), but when Katjaa hopes that things can go "back to normal", Lee has the option of expressing resentment for this old world:

"But they weren't before? The banks, the politics, the--the crap--those things are gone. Hell comes in a lot of different colors."

Usually this "fuck the old world" sentiment is expressed by sociopaths who are excited to enact their sadistic desires onto other survivors, but Lee's resentment for society feels a lot more justified. The fact that Lee is a black man who's specialty is American history makes his criticism of wanting to go back to how things were feel more warranted; he's someone who understands how corrupt and unjust the societal structure of the past was, so of course he'd feel conflicted about longing for its return.

And while this is just a small interaction, I feel it plays into what I've been talking about. Crawford, Howe's, the New Frontier; did these factions collapse because of their evil leaders, or because they were emulating an inherently unjust and corrupt power structure? Their desire for order and stability allows them to see past the cruelties that came with building these hierarchical societies, to the point where they begin to mimic governments of the old world (Crawford, discrimination and the outlining of "undesirables"; Howe's, prison labour and terror; the New Frontier, imperialism and state corruption). So these failed factions force us to ask the question: is a return to order possible in this world?

It isn't until the The Final Season that the games give us an answer to that question: no, it isn't, but that doesn't mean you can't start something new.

When introduced to Ericson's it's made immediately apparent how different they are to any other group we've met before. While there's the obvious homage to Lord of the Flies with a group being made up of entirely children, I think this is more than just a "well it's the final game, best do something interesting". Children are a symbol of hope and optimism, but also of potential and, in a more abstract sense, the future. They are clay that has yet to be moulded, with infinite potential, a luxury most adults don't have. So I don't think it's a coincidence that the main group in this game, and the one that Clementine eventually settles with, is comprised entirely of children: it feels like an intentional choice to highlight how this group will be the one to survive on account of how they have the potential to create something new.

And it's not just their age demographic that makes Ericson's so distinct from the other groups in the series, but also their power structure. Following Marlon's death, their is no one person in control of the group. Sure, there are leaders (Violet takes the chair once Marlon's out of the picture, and upon her return Clementine becomes the one who's advising the group), but they feel like role models and advisors more than anything. When Violet takes the reigns it doesn't seem like anyone truly acknowledges her authority, and she doesn't even seem to enforce it either. Same goes for Clem; she doesn't really express any desire to control the rest of the group, instead preferring to make decisions in a more democratic manner as to include everyone's individual skills and expertise.

Ericson's vision of society more closely resembles that of an anarchist commune than any government that previously existed, and it manages to be the only group left standing by the end. It's through cooperation and an altruistic attitude that keeps them alive in the end; their concerns for the survival of the group far outweigh any desire to create "order". And I don't think it's a coincidence that a majority of the game's antagonists (Lilly, Minerva, and even James) are people who represent the past. Lilly is obsessed with the cruel lessons her father taught her and prides herself in her attachment to the militaristic level of discipline that she inflicts upon her subordinates. Minerva is essentially a ghost of the past, with her whole arc with Violet and Tenn serving as a lesson on the dangers of holding onto the past. James, while good natured and mostly kind, can't bring himself to accept the fact that the world has changed, and its these beliefs that either kill him or sever the only connection he had made in years.

To conclude, while Telltale's The Walking Dead is a series that is rife with conflict and tragedy, I also find it to be a story that is ultimately about hope. I always considered that Lee's greatest lesson to Clementine wasn't how to shoot a gun or to cut her hair, but instilling within her a radical sense of hope, the idea that things can be better, and you should always try your damnedest to make it happen. That even in the most desolate of circumstances, something profoundly beautiful can bloom.

Or maybe I've been wrong this whole time and flowers growing out of a walker just looks really cool.