#(like there IS exercise i enjoy it's just never historically been running)

[aeide-thea]

have vaguely been thinking it might be good for me to try running again ever (my deeply beloathed) but since whenever the fuck the last time was that i engaged in it at all i seem to have misplaced basically all my winter running gear and also acquired Convictions abt polyester &c, which is making it difficult to figure out how to outfit myself :/

[vickyvicarious]

I love how Mina wants to learn about whaling from decades ago from a local expert. She'd have loved listening to Ishmael and writing down all the infodumping, like now. I know she often says her diary is an exercise on shorthand and journalism with the purpose to be useful partner to Jonathan's work but she's clearly full of energy (running up the 199 steps instead of resting from her trip) and hungry for learning new things unrelated to Jonathan's job. (and tbf Jonathan wrote down Transylvanian historical and ethnographic facts specifically so he can discuss everything with Mina later, so she's not the only one focusing on the other)

Mina loves learning things!!!! In some ways it doesn't even seem to matter what sort of things. Like, she's obviously got preferences, but she also just clearly really enjoys learning in and of itself. She is constantly expressing interest in different topics, or revealing that she previously looked into that one, or admiring the knowledge and expertise people have to offer.

Especially when something is new to her! She skipped out of the Westenras' mandatory social upkeep (duty calls) because the choice was that or getting to look around a place she's never been, to explore, to see the sights she's only read about, to talk to locals. And when he doesn't want to indulge her in her initial chosen topic (spooky stuff!) she doesn't mind, just thinks, "he looks like I could learn interesting things from" and tries to ask more about his stories. I doubt she ever had an interest in whaling before this, but now she does! Local experts are absolutely her jam.

And yeah, she tries to dress everything up as necessary for A Task because she has hangups about her actions having to be purposeful likely due in part to her background, but it's so obvious that even when that is a factor, it's far from the only reason why. She would definitely love listening to Ishmael infodump (though then she'd read up further herself and maybe come back with some questions about some of his more creative classifications, etc.) or Arronax or Nemo ( I hope @lxgentlefolkcomic will include a scene of one of these or hint to her doing so offscreen at some point).

Both the Harkers are thinking of one another often. But it's definitely an added bonus rather than the only reason for stuff like this. Jonathan also seems to enjoy learning new things, if maybe less intensely than Mina, but he enjoys watching her learn and enjoy herself. And he has plenty of energy too. Whenever they go on vacation somewhere, they're gonna be out and about exploring and meeting people and seeing all the sights all day long to an extent that would be grueling to most people.

[forever-fixating]

Some Sentences Monday?

Tagged by the ever-awesome @priincebutt

Okay, so I know this is meant for Sundays, but ya boi was destroyed from work and completely overstimulated so I had nothing in the tank. But after hibernating most of today, I am emerging ready to share a new project I have in the works. Getting such amazing response for Love on the Menu has really invigorated my desire to work, and now my mind is running with ideas. I've been toying with the idea of writing a historical AU for a while now, so allow me to introduce:

I don't have an official summary for it yet, but to overhype myself, this story has everything: childhood sweethearts separated by tragedy, rivaling nations full of political intrigue, magick because I've been dying to write a fantasy AU as well so por que no los dos, a tournament where the grand prize of the joust is the hand in marriage of our sweet Henry, a cliffhanger that I am so excited to write but that I know will enrage everyone that reads it...get ready, yall!

Below the cut is a massively long teaser. Forgive the roughness of it. I am just so geeked to share it, but just know I'll be working on it until it's ready. Enjoy! (If you'd like a soundtrack for this, might I suggest Surrender by Natalie Taylor?)

The air was perfumed with the scent of springtime blossoms. Beneath the shade of a great willow tree were two young lovers. One was flaxen-haired, his ivory skin rosy from the sun and littered with constellations of freckles. His body and limbs were slender and knobbly, still in that awkward phase between boy and man. His light blue eyes studied his companion with unguarded adoration. The other young man was shorter in stature, but rigorous exercise had already defined his physique. Atop his head was an untamed mass of sable curls, still wet from swimming. His unblemished skin gleamed a rich russet shade that his fairer companion couldn't stop touching. The pair had completed their lessons for the day and decided to take a refreshing dip in the lake near their school. They were naked, hidden among the willow branches, like two woodland nymphs from a fable and not two princes from separate nations. The dark-haired boy Alex lifted his lover Henry's hand and kissed the signet ring on his pinkie finger. The ring's face held not a family crest but their initials. A promise.

"When we are married-"

"You mustn't say such things!" Henry laughed even as his stomach fluttered at the very prospect. "It isn't proper."

Alex leaned down to press a kiss against rose-petal lips. "A man must state his intentions plainly, and mine are to marry you, cariño."

"You are not yet seventeen, cariad," Henry said as Alex trailed kisses along his jaw and neck. In this sacred space, it was easy to get lost in the rose-tinted fantasy of their future together. He tangled his fingers in Alex's curls, tugging at the roots. "Our parents would say it is unwise to speak of such things at our age."

"Why," Alex hissed as he climbed over Henry's body, "are you mentioning our parents when I am trying to ravish you?"

Henry arched his body into that of his beloved, gasping, "You have ravished me twice already this afternoon. Is that not enough?"

"Never."

As the twin suns began their steady descents into the horizons, the young lovers got dressed and made their way back to the school. Fireflies glowed in hues of pink, orange, and yellow as the pair discussed their plans for the following day. Given their disheveled states of dress, they were wary of running into Headmistress Beaufort or one of their professors as they made their way back to their dormitory. Unfortunately, fate was not on their side, and they rounded a corner and nearly crashed into Professor Wagner. He was a squat toad of a man who taught history and hated Alex for his frequent interruptions during lessons. His face held a perpetual bitter expression, as though he had just sucked on an unripen lemon. He berated them for looking and acting beneath their station and gave them detention for the following fortnight working in the stables with Gerald the groundskeeper. (It wasn't the punishment the man thought it was. They enjoyed Gerald's company, especially when he was joined by Julian, the music professor. Henry was convinced they were in love, but Alex said he was delusional.)

They scrambled upstairs to their shared dorm room to change. Dinner was already in progress when they joined their social set in the dining hall. Alex's older sister June was discussing a novel with Henry's twin sister Beatrice while their best friends Percy and Nora played cards. As Henry took his spot between Bea and Pez, his sister poked at the poorly concealed love mark Alex had gifted him earlier and teased, "My dear brother, it would appear you have been mauled by pixies. Should we alert Gerald of a possible infestation?"

Alex, seated across from him between June and Nora, snorted into his goblet, and Henry kicked his skin beneath the table. Giving his sister a tight smile that told her he knew exactly at what she was playing, he said defensively, "It was only a single, annoying pixie. Hardly cause for alarm."

"Annoying?" Henry's stomach filled with regret the moment the words left his mouth at Alex's fallen expression. He looked away from Henry. "Perhaps the pixie will direct their attention elsewhere if they are such a nuisance."

Alex would not meet his eye for the remainder of the meal. Once Headmistress Beaufort dismissed the students for the evening, Alex was up like a shot. Henry felt the disapproval of their friends and loved ones as he stood and trailed after Alex like a lovesick puppy. When Henry reached the common room of their dormitory, he found Alex chatting with Liam, the son of a nobleman from his home country. While he knew there was no danger of them forming an attachment, jealousy sparked in his chest, hot and ugly. He strode over to them and said, "Alex, I wish to speak with you."

Alex's expression was that of cool indifference. "Yes?"

Ignoring Liam and tugging on Alex's arm, Henry insisted, "In private."

Alex rolled his eyes but stood, shoving past Henry to their dorm room. Henry didn't look at Liam but hurried after Alex. He passed some of their classmates roughhousing in the hallway. Alex's ire was quick to be provoked, but Henry hoped he could dampen it with gentle words of apology and a gift. Their dorm room was on the far end of the hallway to the right. When Henry entered, Alex was sitting on the window seal. Henry closed the door.

"Cariad-"

"You would be wise not to call me that right now," Alex snapped, not looking at him.

Henry bit his bottom lip. Pushing away from the door, he crossed the cross to retrieve a parcel he received earlier that day from his bedside table. Though he protested Alex's pure words down by the lake, Henry's heart ached at the very thought that Alex thought himself alone in this affection. Henry was naturally cautious when it came to matters of the heart. While his parents had a romance for the bards to write neverending songs about and supported his inclinations, his grandmother Queen Mary still held final sway over who her grandchildren would marry. While Alex's country was a rising power, full of untapped resources and potential, Mary looked down her nose at their progressive politics and rising status among the nations. But despite the perceived impossibility of their future together, Henry found himself desperately in love with Alex all the time.

Henry knelt in front of his wounded lover and placed the parcel in his lap. Alex finally looked at him before glancing down and asking, "What is this?"

"An apology and response."

Alex picked it up and tore away the plain brown paper. Revealed was a red velvet bag. Henry's heart raced as Alex opened the bag and pulled out a small golden key on a silver chain. The bow of the key, intertwined in delicate filigree, was their initials, much like the ring that rested on Henry's hand.

As Alex studied it, Henry said, "My words earlier were foolish and hurtful. The truth is that I am afraid of the end of term. Things as they are now seem too perfect and golden. I...I fear once we are parted, reality will make you realize I am not worthy, that you will find someone more suitable for-"

"You believe me to be easily swayed?" Alex snapped. Henry looked up to see frustration and sadness in his eyes. He reached down to yank Henry's hand that held the signet ring to eye level. "Is this not proof enough of my love for you? Is it not enough that I say I love you? If this is an apology, it is a very poor one, Henry."

Henry climbed on the window seal with Alex, desperate to be understood, tears in his eyes. "It is an explanation. I am scared, Alex. I know we are young, but I know in my heart I will never feel for another what I feel for you. But when my grandmother finds out about us, she will stop at nothing to keep us apart. Does that challenge not give you pause?"

"Cariño," Alex whispered, cupping Henry's face, the necklace dangling from his fingers, "I would slay a thousand dragons, cross the Great Salt Desert, and brave the bitterest frozen peaks if that's what it took to make you mine. You may fear your grandmother, but I do not. There is no one else for me but you."

Henry took the chain from Alex's hand and placed it around his neck. Pressing his hand over the key, Henry said, "As you are for me. I want to be brave like you. I want you to know you are not alone. This key is a symbolic gesture, the key to my heart. My promise to be true."

Two young lovers, bathed in moonlight and their love for one another, making a vow as true as the gods had ever heard. Perhaps it was their youth that gave them pause, or the sincerity in which the vows were given. Whatever it was, the gods took note and, in their mercurial way, decided to put that devotion to the test.

The skies were clear that night as Alex and Henry clung to each other, but they could not see the storm brewing on the distant horizon. A challenge.

Tagging @dragonflylady77 @onthewaytosomewhere @theplayfulfairy and anyone else who scribbles and is interested.

[jacob-in-taiwan]

July 19 - Gold Museum, Jiufen Mountain Village, and JingTong Old Street

Today was the first day it felt like we really got to explore outside Taipei. Even though yesterday we went rather far, today we went way out. The first stop was the gold museum in the historic mining town of Jinguashi. It was really cool to see all of the tools and equipment that were once used there. The star of the show was a massive 220 kilogram brick of gold. 

We didn’t end up spending too much time at the museum, because we wanted to be able to take our time and really enjoy the Jiufen mountain village. This was one of the coolest markets we’ve been to so far. As the name implies, the whole thing sits on the side of a mountain. Being from Florida where it's so flat I’m always so amazed when I see them. The market itself was really cool too. I really liked all the different kinds of shops and restaurants they had there. The Jiufen mountain village is particularly well known for its tea, so we made sure to stop by a tea house while we were there. The view from our table was absolutely incredible. It overlooked the coastline and had some amazingly blue water. 

After a good while at the village we met back up to go to our last location, the Jingtong mining industry museum. However, when we got there it had already closed. But Peter never panics, so he quickly switched plans and organized some sky lanterns that we got to design ourselves. It wasn’t what we were supposed to do, but everyone had so much fun and got to learn about Taiwan while we did it. 

One part of today's journey that really stuck with me was the Gold Museum, and specifically an informational piece titled “Life in Jinguashi POW Camp.” As I read about it one word came to mind, propaganda. A huge part of war, and especially during World War Two, was propaganda. At this POW camp, the Japanese sent photos of the prisoners exercising to the Red Cross, rather than letting them inspect the camp themselves. As we know today, Japan along with many other countries treated their prisoners horrible. Beatings, overworking, and death were all commonplace among many camps around the world, so of course the Japanese wouldn’t want the Red Cross anywhere near their camp. Even today propaganda still exists. In highly suppressive countries North Korea, Cuba, and Russia it's very profound and noticeable. However, even in countries like the United States it exists, just more subtle. The way we run our news can be a good example of this. Advertising can also be used as a way to push propaganda. A big part of studying history is using the past to inform the future, so learning about propaganda is always a good reminder to stay aware of the information you take in.

[magmacannon]

wake up ROMAN it's time for ROUND TWO 35, 40, 45, 54-57

HWUH GOOD MORNING - it's afternoon where I am rn pff

35. What is the smallest, morally questionable choice they’ve made?

To him it honestly might have been Thinking About kissing John before asking Vince if that was okay, but since that was just thoughts and wasn't an actual action he took I think it's the mild manipulation of casting sending to Blu to get him back in the adventuring group and saying that Baster needed him.

Potentially trying to go adventuring while having a family for the sake of friends far moreso than money is also morally questionable but that feels bigger.

40. How do they respond to a loose handshake? What goes through their head?

<:/ as an emotion and the thought of "man that was disappointing. Hope they're feeling alright/not a hater"

45. What’s something unimportant / frivolous that they hate passionately?

Sports team drama and patriotism... it's loud and annoying and causes problems!!! Not to mention how many people he knew went to the ER because of after-game shenanigans.

54. What’s their instinct in a fight / flight / freeze / fawn situation?

Roman fluctuates between fight and fawn almost exclusively, with more fawn probability the more he likes you and/or is trying to make a good impression.

55. What’s something they’re expected to enjoy based on their hobbies / profession that they actually dislike / hate?

😔😔😔😔war..................... He really isn't a fan of it despite the degree in War Magic and his propensity for exploding things and fighting with Deadly Spells. Hobby-wise, Roman also hasn't historically been a fan of accessorizing his wizard robes (mainly bc he grew up shy of his appearance and didn't feel the need to be too flashy given where he lives! This was probably already in the process of changing before he decided to go adventuring bc his husband started to jazz him up.)

56. If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

In most cases he wants comfort from Vince bc Vince is the person who makes him feel the most safe 99% of the time. There's once and a while where he wishes he lived closer to his parents because that's a different sort of comfort (less effective usually, though), and when he's not got Vince around he'll want to talk to a friend about it, but if he feels like he'll be ridiculed then he'll keep it to himself and Stew in it.

57. What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

Running and writing neatly... he has poor running technique (and doesn't!!! want to learn a better one), and unless he's really focusing in his handwriting's pretty messy. Roman might be a bit clumsy as well, all things considered (he likely needs glasses)

58. How many hobbies have they attempted to have over their lifetime? Is there a common theme?

He's approaching 40 years old so he's tried quite a few things, though I don't know if Roman would count most of them as 'hobbies' just because they've been so sparing - mainly things like foraging, boating, a few strength-type exercises while in Tzeraz, and other outdoorsy stuff that he's enjoyed but not really continued to do. Adventuring could also be considered a hobby of his since he's done that on and off throughout his life! A lot of them are more 'exciting' than what he views as his regular everyday life stuff (though within that there's baking/cooking, alchemy, and spell writing/editing as hobbies), and many of them have to do with a Tzeraz-style understanding of Survival Skills (which he never got good at).

[umichenginabroad]

Week 4: More Climbing, Classes, Castles, and Craic

Oh hi, I didn't see you there. You want to hear about my week? I'm happy to hear that because like it or not, you're about to.

To be honest, much of this week wasn't particularly eventful, primarily consisting of me going to classes, getting groceries, cooking meals, and going climbing.

In my classes, we're starting to get into more interesting (and complicated) topics. I'm not too crazy about my applied dynamics professor, as his teaching style centers around monotonously reading off of his slides and doing very little explaining. Fortunately the textbook is good though, so I've still been able to keep up with the content.

Outside of classes, I've been going climbing a fair bit, both at the campus climbing wall run by the mountaineering club, and at a bouldering gym ~20 mins from campus. My arms have never been so sore, but it's been a really fun way to pass the time and get exercise.

In addition to my three in person classes, I'm in a field trip based class called "Discovering Ireland." This weekend we had our first of two field trips, and we went to some archeological sites south of Dublin.

The sites we visited were Castledermot, Brownshill, and Ferns. Casteldermot is a town south of Dublin that was the site of an old monastery (not a castle). Although this monastery is now long gone, there's now a church in its place, as well as some very old Irish high crosses.

An Irish high cross at Castledermot.

Brownshill is the site of the remains of a Neolithic portal tomb.

The Brownshill portal tomb

Although it just looks like a pile of very large rocks, during the stone ages, this would have been a mass burial site. Additionally, people had to lift that massive rock (estimated to be 20 tons) with nothing but stone tools and wood. Pretty impressive if you ask me.

Our final stop, Ferns, was definitely the most impressive in my opinion. We visited the ruins of a very large 13th century castle.

Ferns castle

At all of these locations, our professor gave us a talk about the historical significance of these sites, which was very enlightening and really added to the experience.

Later that day, my friend Ethan and I went to a stand up show in the city center. Although not all of the comedians were super funny, it was a good time and a fun way to finish out the day.

On Sunday, I went on another hike with the Mountaineering Club. This time we hiked the Scarr Mountain. Like last week, this hike was in the Wicklow Mountains, about an hour and a half south of Dublin. Unlike last week though, the weather was gorgeous and we actually got to enjoy the views from the top and didn't have to fear getting blown away by the wind.

Some photos from our hike up Scarr

After the hike, the club went to a nearby pub where we all grabbed some pints and chips. A word you hear a lot in Ireland is "craic." Craic just means a good time or enjoyable social vibes. For example, the hike I took on Sunday was good craic.

I'm now incredibly exhausted, so I'm going to wrap this post up. Tomorrow we have a day off, so I think my plan is to explore some of the free museums in Dublin.

Talk to y'all next week!

Sam Adler

Materials Science and Engineering

[ibelongtowrath]

Amor Librorum - Obey Me! Satan x Reader

Satan's in heat, and you just had to wear that short little skirt, didn't you? A/N: This was a request for a Satan in heat story! My first work since my hiatus, and I hope I did it justice. I kinda went hard with Dom Satan, so please enjoy. Pairing: Satan x Fem!Reader Word Count: ~6.6k Tags/Warnings: 18+ NSFW, fisting, oral sex, degradation, breeding, rough sex, double penetration, tail sex, dirty talk, dominance, choking. NSFW under the cut!

The peaceful quiet of the library is disturbed by a loud groan of frustration, not at all surprised to find the sound originating from yourself. Your eyes open, unable to focus as you stare aimlessly at the pile of papers before you. Haphazardly-written notes cover the pages of your notebooks, some even squished into the margins, tiny doodles of demon horns and rainbows sprinkled throughout in an effort to satiate your never-ending boredom in class. God, Devildom classes are relentless, filled with endless information and not a lot of stimulation. A deep sigh falls from your lips. Rubbing your temples, you lean back in your chair, eyes closing once more.

“MC, is there anything I can help you with?”

The familiar voice startles you and you start, a small gasp escaping you as your eyes fly open. A few moments later, you finally notice Satan sitting close to the fireplace, book in hand as usual as your face heats up. 

Satan, so goddamn handsome; the one you’ve had your eye on for a while, but were always too intimidated to approach.

“Satan! I-I didn’t even hear you come in,” you stammer in embarrassment, finally beginning to collect yourself and steady your breathing.

Satan’s jade-green gaze studies yours momentarily, brows knit together before his face relaxes. A gentle smile paints his face, and he chuckles, shaking his head. His blond locks fall forward into his face, reaching a hand up to brush them back.

“I have been in here for nearly thirty minutes now,” he says. “You were so focused on your work, I didn’t have the heart to disturb you. Though now, you look a bit...frazzled, so to speak.”

“You can say that again,” you agree, making a face at your messy notes.

It wasn’t that the material exceeded your capabilities; in fact, quite the opposite. You pored endlessly over your work daily since you had arrived not too long ago, paying attention in class and asking questions, with the occasional doodle finding its way onto your notes just to break up the monotony. Your dedication to success was something the brothers, and Diavolo, admired greatly about you. 

It of course caught the attention of the Avatar of Wrath himself, even more so than his brothers. He respected you greatly, your wit and intelligence closely rivaling even his own. He felt an affinity towards you, despite your newness to the Devildom.

Feeling the intensity of his gaze, you look awkwardly down at yourself as your hand reaches to tug at the hem of your skirt, a little too short for your taste. Asmo had insisted on it, claiming R.A.D. needed a bit more excitement. Yeah, excitement for him, maybe. 

Satan’s eyes quickly move to your thighs on the chair, eyeing the way you play with your skirt. A low sound rumbles in his chest at the sight, and he grits his teeth, willing himself under control. It was that time, the few days during each Devildom moon cycle where demons felt their desire to breed skyrocket, nearly going feral to satiate the hunger deep within. The heat period.

He had grown skilled in suppressing the urge, thousands upon thousands of cycles having passed in his lifetime. That isn’t to say he never gave in to it; even he had his moments where he couldn’t ignore the need to feel release, either relieving himself with his own doing, or with the occasional acquaintance made when Asmo had dragged him to one of his opulent parties. More often than not, Satan had simply resisted the pressing need, throwing himself deep into his studies instead. 

That is, until  you  came along. You had piqued his interest, and he fully intended on studying you in his own way, eager to learn. Now you were here, in the place he went to when he was trying to escape his natural urges, wearing that short skirt of yours. That fucking skirt, tempting him like no other, and you have no clue.

Oh, the places his mind went when thoughts of you intruded were certainly risqué as is, nearly every day. He wanted nothing more than to indulge in you, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss, exploring each other’s bodies as lovers do. But right now, in the midst of his heat? He’ll throw caution to the wind, risk it all to push you down onto the nearest surface, a hand slipping between your legs. To hear your needy cries for him to fill you with the seed of his sin, each wet thrust laced with lust and desire...

“Well, thank you,” you say after a few quiet moments, oblivious to the demon’s internal struggle across the room. “I don’t think I need anything, at least not yet.”

Your words break Satan’s trance slightly as he nods, eyes moving back up to meet yours.

“Do let me know, in any case.”

“Of course.”

Sighing once more, your gaze returns to the mass of papers and notebooks before you, reaching for your Devildom History binder. Flipping it open to the period right after the Celestial War, each time period labelled painstakingly carefully, you begin to read over highlights of important events.

“MC!”

Satan’s voice calls out to you again from across the room and your eyes flit up to look up at him.

“Yeah?” you ask, wondering what he wants to tell you.

“I am glad you’re in here, and not around my brothers,” Satan says slowly. “I would stay away from them as much as you can over the next several days. They…are not always capable of exercising as much control as I am.”

“Ah.” The heavy implication behind his words is not lost on you, and you nod in understanding. 

You had been in the Devildom for a few months now, and demon heat cycles had already passed. For a brief moment, you wonder why Satan is choosing to warn you now, but decide not to question it, instead choosing to be grateful for his looking out for you.

“Of course. Thank you, Satan.”

The demon watches as you return to your notes before turning to his book before him, settling back in his chair. The heat from the fireplace, coupled with the smell of wood burning, wafts towards him in gentle waves. He feels the tension melt away from his shoulders, relaxing into the comfort of his book; his serenity. Or so he thought.

Satan looks at the words inked onto the page before him, flipping to the next, then the next;  seeing  the words but not actually reading them. The carefully-typed words seem to bleed together as his vision blurs, surreptitiously lifting his head gaze once more at your bare thighs pressed together on the chair. He pictures standing before you, pressing his own knee between them, spreading your legs apart and-

No. Suppress the urge, he tells himself, just like he’s done for millennia. So why is it so fucking hard this time?  His attention turns back to his book, willing himself to exercise the great control over his instinctive urges he had just told you he possessed, only moments ago.

Blissfully unaware, you continue to pore over your notes. God, I don’t even remember writing this much. Several moments pass as you double-check what the exam is going to cover, scribbled into the customized R.A.D. planner Lucifer had so graciously gifted to you upon your arrival in the Devildom. Returning to your notes, you flip ahead several pages, running your finger down the margins as you go, making sure everything in your notes coincides with the necessary topics.

“Huh…”

Your finger stops at a section with uncompleted notes, brows furrowing together in worry. Fuck. You had skipped out on classes that day with bad cramps, telling yourself you’d get the notes from Satan at a later date before the exam, knowing he’d be the only one who would have notes as thorough as your own.

Well, I can’t exactly ask him now. Pride and slight embarrassment get in the way of need. Pursing your lips together and exhaling loudly through your nose, you scoot the chair back and stand slowly. The hem of your skirt flares as you rise and turn towards the seemingly infinite expanse of books behind you. Your hand reaches instinctively to tug it down, willing it to suddenly grow longer to at least mid-thigh. Maybe I should concoct a spell for that: clothes that get shorter or longer at will.

Satan looks up and studies you carefully as you walk over to the historical section of the library, noting the contemplative look on your face. He chuckles at the serious look on your face, wondering if he should call out to you and ask if you need any help picking out a book. Instead, deciding it would be more feasible to show you, he sets his book down onto the table by the fireplace. His mouth opens, about to guide you towards the more recently-published Devildom history books when the sight of you before him slams his jaw shut.

Just several feet away, your body is bent over as you attempt to read the spine of a book near the bottom shelf of the bookcase, another tome already in hand, panties completely exposed. Suddenly, the rush of cool air on your backside as your skirt rides up elicits a small yelp from your lips, dropping the book to the floor as you hurriedly reach back to pull the skirt down. The fabric won’t move any further down, clearly not meant for coverage when your body bends. You straighten quickly, feeling your face practically ignite in embarrassment.

I'm going to kill Asmo! you think to yourself, quickly and carefully squatting to pick up the book you had carelessly dropped in your haste. Thank God Satan has his nose buried in a book and didn’t see …

The low rumble from deep in Satan’s chest as he growls hungrily tells you otherwise. Restraint,  the sweet restraint  that he had been so carefully cultivating since you arrived in the Devildom disappears almost instantaneously.

“You little fucking tease,” he growls, teeth bared.

Satan smirks, a predatory look etched into his handsome features as he saunters toward you. His jewel-toned gaze rakes your body up and down, the image of you bent over, panties barely covering your backside burnt into his mind like a brand. You feel your body instinctively tense, watching the way he moves; a wolf that stalks agonizingly slow over to his next meal, knowing the animal doesn’t stand a chance. A slight shiver courses down what feels like each vertebra of your spine, goosebumps cascading across your arms and bare legs in anticipation. You don’t feel scared, no - you’re turned on by the way he’s looking at you, the most indulgent treat ready to be devoured, and he knows it .

Satan’s smirk grows wider, almost turning into a sadistic grin as he nears you at last. His fingers slide gently under your chin to lift your face towards his, his beautiful green eyes even more mesmerizing in the proximity. They look like shimmering pools of tropical water, enticing you to jump in, and you want nothing more than to drown in them; but the blazing, carnivorous look hardens them, their majestic beauty mismatched with the sentiments currently behind them.

“Such a tease you are, little pet,” the Avatar of Wrath murmurs, his gaze never faltering from yours. “I only just warned you that it is the demon heat cycle, yet here you are, bent over in that short fucking skirt like a slut begging to be bred like she deserves.”

Satan speaks so calmly, in complete contradiction with the wanton desires carved into every cell in his body. Oh, he wants nothing more than to rip each and every flimsy piece of fabric off your pliant little body, cock twitching beneath the constricting fabric of his pants, but that will have to wait. Yes, he will wait until your arousal drips onto your thighs in the anticipation, keening for him, your voice laced with desperation as you plead with him to fuck you. After all, he is nothing if not a patient demon, and what fun is it to pounce on your prey without playing with your food a bit first?

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, instinctively continuing to tug down your skirt.

“Sorry? My dear, I am an intelligent demon,” he retorts. “Do you really think of me so unwise, so blind to my instinctual desires that I wouldn’t doubt your sincerity?”

Satan shrugs the green jacket off his shoulders, placing it neatly onto the back of a nearby chair. He takes a few more steps in your direction and leans forward, his lips now mere inches from yours.

“I can practically smell the desire rolling off your tight little body in waves right now, darling. I can see it in your eyes just how badly you want me.”

Satan’s thumb caresses your lip as his mouth moves to your ear, warm breath caressing your skin and smirking once more, watching the way you shiver, the sensation trickling slowly down your spine, nearly shaking in anticipation. You breathe in deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of his skin pressed to yours: the slight musk of old books, and sweeter notes of vanilla and cinnamon lingering on top. Your tongue wets your lips, eager to taste him on yours. 

“Now, now, Kitten,” he purrs, amused by your evident arousal. “Are you so willing, so eager for me to wreck you that you’re turned on merely by a few small gestures? Naughty thing…”

A familiar need washes over you, very nearly as strong as his, despite your humanity. Without realizing, a whine spills from your lips in the wake of another shiver; every fiber of your being  ache s for him, calls out to him to satiate the hunger. The visceral urge to feel him between your legs, sighing in satisfaction in the deliciously slow stretch of your warmth as he eases into you… If you were capable, you’re sure you would be growling as well.

Satan nibbles lightly on the lobe of your ear before his lips find your neck, placing soft, slow, sensual kisses on the underside of your jaw as he makes his way towards your exposed clavicle underneath the unbuttoned shirt of your R.A.D. uniform. You mewl, squeezing your thighs together, the action eliciting the wetness between your legs. Electricity pulses through you in every rhythmic beat of your heart, dampening your panties with each thump, thump, thump in your chest.

The demon laughs softly against you, delighting in your body’s response to him. His mouth moves to the delicate skin above your collarbone, where he nips and sucks it into his mouth, intent on leaving his mark on you. Each press of his lips on your skin leaves a trail of fire burning across, blazing a path in the form of reddish-purple welts imprinted into your skin.  Fuck . You hadn’t anticipated it feeling this good, hands reaching to entangle your fingers in his thick blonde hair, pulling him closer to you. 

You are his.

“Oh, naughty, naughty thing. Here I am, having barely done a thing, and yet…”

His words taper off as he runs his free hand down the curves of your body until it rests just above mid-thigh. Inadvertently, you tighten. The spark of arousal quickly turns into a star shower between your hips, each and every sensitive nerve-ending on high alert, every cell desperate to be touched, to be  felt .

“...you’re practically begging for me. Just what exactly have you been picturing me doing to you in that pretty little mind of yours, hm? Perhaps…”

Satan’s hand trails to the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You shudder, a tiny moan escaping your lips as he continues to run his thumb across. Achingly slowly, his hand finally reaches between your legs, and he rubs the flimsy, now-soaked fabric of your panties against your heat, adding slight friction to your clit.

“... something like this?”

Your head drops back slightly as you moan, and his cock twitches again; the demon is almost painfully hard beneath his pants, but he’s not done playing with you just yet. No, despite his strong urges, he will be patient. After all, he’s waited thousands of years for a moment just like this. It’s in his nature to toy with you, to elicit those sweet, sweet sounds of anticipation and pleasure from your lips, knowing you’re so far gone to his charms.

“My, my, kitten,” Satan murmurs. “For someone who wasn’t actively trying to get my attention like you say, you are quite wet for me. Are you, perhaps, enjoying yourself?”

Without giving time for a response, he slides a finger under your panties, teasing it against your swollen clit as his lips crash against yours. His tongue presses against your lips, begging entrance; you grant it to him, letting your tongues explore each other's mouths. Moaning into him, you lift a leg to hook around his waist, causing Satan to break off the kiss; a low-pitched growl rumbling loudly from deep within his chest.

“I want you, kitten, I cannot deny that,” he husks. “But when you do things like that, well-”

Satan whirls you around to the table behind you, pushing you down onto it. A knee moves to your thighs, pressing into them to spread you apart ever-so-slightly. His finger hooks under the waistband of your panties, and, with a single tug, rips them off with a loud tear echoing throughout the peaceful calm of the library. Discarding them onto the floor haphazardly, a feral grin twists his handsome face.

“-you make it awfully hard to be sweet with you. Then again, I’m sure you love it rough, don’t you, my dirty little kitten?”

“F-fuck… yes…,” you whimper.

“Well, we’ll have to put that to the test in just a bit. But for now… open yourself to me.”

The carnal desire twists darkly through Satan’s veins as he watches you spread your legs, your dripping pussy on full display. He growls again, louder, hungrier at the sight of you quivering before him, your body begging for his cock without having to say a single word from those pretty lips of yours. Kneeling before you, his green nails find purchase on the soft skin of your inner thighs, digging in slightly. His lips part as his tongue moves, licking a few stripes up your sex. Soft moans against your skin sound from within him as he laps at your essence, pulling away after a few moments.

Satan looks at you then, listens to your needy whimper, fingers curling into the carved wood of the table, an uncontrollable urge to lift you up, slam you against the bookcase and fuck you into it overwhelmingly strong. Eyes glazed over with lust, a blissful, almost  mindless  look on your face; need and arousal woven into every delicate feature. Blood surges deep through his vein, heart working double time in the visceral urge he feels to make you his - and he will.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, kitten,” the Avatar of Wrath purrs, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your thighs. “I’m going to make you feel so good with just my mouth and my fingers, and you’re going to ask for my permission before you cum all over this table. Then, I’m going to bend you over and make you beg for my cock to stretch your needy little pussy out like the desperate slut you are. Is that agreeable to you?”

“Yes, yes, please …” you whimper. “Please, Satan.”

"Already begging for me, hm? That’s a good girl. That’s a very good girl.”

Satan moves his face back to your core, resuming his ministrations, alternating between sucking on your clit and swirling his tongue around it. Your back arches against the table, reaching a hand forward to thread your fingers tightly into his soft, blonde locks. He slides two fingers into your quivering pussy, smirking against your skin as a lewd cry of pleasure escapes you, knowing he’s got you in the palm of his hand… exactly where he wants you.

“Oh, pet, you taste so sweet for me, like the most indulgent dessert in the entirety of the Realms. Tell me, how good does it feel?”

“S-Satan… it feels so fucking good, don’t stop…,” you whine in response.

“Oh, don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on stopping, my pretty little pet. Not until you’re properly prepared for my cock and I make you cum  all over  this table, your face twisting in pleasure, just for me.”

Satan pumps and curls his fingers inside you skillfully, pressing exactly right against your most sensitive spot. The pleasurable pressure floods your body, every nerve ending electrified. His tongue focuses its attention back to your clit, flicking and nibbling the swollen bud, working his fingers in tandem. Eyes roll into the back of your head in ecstasy and your mind is completely fogged over, able to focus only on the demon pleasurable movements. 

Hips roll towards his face, increasing the pressure of his tongue between your legs, and he moans against your pussy before sliding a third finger into you. The onslaught of sensations is nearly too much to bear, and you gasp as your pelvic muscles tighten around his fingers, signaling your oncoming release.  

“Ngh… Satan, I want to cum. Please, let me cum,” you beg, your voice laced in pleasure and desperation.

“Oh, so soon?” Satan laughs softly. “Well, you’ve been so good for me… so wet, and making those sweet sounds just for me. I suppose I can permit you…”

He places a kiss against your clit before moving his mouth to bite down hard into your thigh, leaving a bright red imprint behind. Smiling at the mark, he nods, eager to watch as you come undone before him. Fuck, does he want to see that beautiful face of yours as it twists in pleasure from his ministrations.

“Cum for me, my sweet kitten,” Satan commands.

Your head rocks back against the hard wooden table as your body writhes, feelings of pure ecstasy washing and shuddering through your body in waves. The grip of your fingers woven into his hair tightens as his name falls from your lips, each syllable pronounced with a moan between. Body jerking forward slightly, he delights in watching the slight gushing from between your legs runs down your thighs in deliciously tiny rivulets as your fluid excitement pools beneath your thighs and onto the table beneath you.

Satan pulls back slightly and smirks, lapping at your essence. Another moan sounds from his lips, tasting your sweet release, intent on not wasting a single precious drop before standing, removing his fingers from inside you. You hear yourself whine at the loss of him inside you, desperate to feel that stretch between your walls, the need for him almost physically painful. He grins at you again, a sadistic upturn or his lips as he moves his hands to his pants, making quick work of undoing his belt and zipper to free his cock. 

Watching closely, your eyes focus on him as you come back down from the high of pleasure, collecting your thoughts briefly before the sight of his hardened length before you clouds your mind over once more. You feel nearly light-headed, dizzy with arousal, solely able to think about pushing your hips in time with his as he takes you higher and higher.

Smug, Satan grabs your arm, turning you around. He pushes an arm into your back, effectively forcing you to bend you over the table. His hand reaches around your front to grope your breast through your shirt before taking a fistful of the fabric in his hand, ripping it clean off your body. A breathy gasp spills out of you, barely able to react before your bra suffers the same fate, torn into two on the floor.

“S-Satan! My uniform!” you gasp, studying the tattered garments littered onto the library floor.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” the demon coos, “I’m keeping your slutty little skirt fully intact. I want to watch my cock disappearing between your legs while you wear it.”

Using his free hand to hike the skirt up your thighs, he kicks your legs apart, letting out a loud, animalistic growl at the sight of you, before grabbing your ass cheeks in both hands, spreading you open completely. Fucking hell. How badly he wanted to slam his cock into either one of your needy set of holes, both quivering and clenching in anticipation. Sadistic grin returning, he relishes the power he holds over you at that moment.

“Look at you, spread before me like my favorite book, your needy little pussy just  aching to be stretched out and gaping from my cock,” Satan continues, his voice lowering several notes.

Unable to resist, his mouth moves between your legs, licking another stripe up your slit. Lifting an arm back, Satan brings his hand down to smack your ass, hard. A loud crack sounds across the room, and you hiss with the stinging pain. His eyes move to your ass cheek, delighting in the bright red mark left behind, deciding to give your ass a few more smacks. A groan sounds from behind you, demon form erupting, so thoroughly turned on by your breathy moans. 

“If only you could see yourself, pet, and see just what you’re doing to me. Your pussy is quivering for me, your body so desperate for me to use you and breed you like a dirty little cumslut. Isn’t that exactly what you are, you fucking tease?”

Satan’s hand moves to his cock, teasing his length up and down your dripping wet slit, the feeling of your abundant wetness coating him combined with your needy moans nearly too much for him to bear. Back arching, your hips push back against him instinctively, whining desperation growing louder, the need to feel him almost physically painful. He, too, feels the urge, painfully hard in his own hand. He needs to be inside you  now  , his own desperation beginning to cloud his thoughts… but before that, he needs to hear you beg.

“If you want it, beg me for it, kitten,” he commands.

Without hesitation, your lips part, ready to comply.

“Satan, fuck me, please!” you plead. “I need it. I need you. Please.”

His tail snakes forward and wraps tightly around your wrists, binding them together behind your back.

“Fuck, I love that sound,” he laughs, almost sadistically. “The sound of obedience without a second thought. You’re so fucking hungry for my cock and my cum, you’ll do just about anything, won’t you, you slut?”

Slowly, Satan slides his cock inside you, burying himself to the hilt. 

“I seem to have forgotten, my sweet kitten, exactly which one of us is the one in heat,” Satan laughs. “The way you begged for me to fuck you and to fill you, my pretty little kitten must be in a heat of her own. Spreading her legs and arching her back, moaning to draw in the nearest suitors, just to be fucked, to fulfill her aching needs.”

You moan, finally satisfied at having gained the delicious stretch of his generous cock between your legs. The sound quickly turns into a lewd cry of pleasure that tears from your throat, slicing cleanly through the otherwise pure quiet of the library.

“Your pussy is so hot, tight, and wet for me, kitten. Such a good little whore. I’m going to fuck you into this table until you cum. And when you do, I’m going to fill your needy hole with my cum. I’m going to breed you like the hungry little cockslut that you are.”

“Y-yes, please!” you hear yourself begging again.

Satan shudders, savoring the feeling of your constricting warmth as he begins to fuck you from behind, watching as his cock disappear between your legs. He groans at the sight, snapping his hips into you at an unrelenting pace. His chest presses flush against your back, lips finding purchase on your neck before biting hard into it, intent on leaving more marks. Each thrust elicits a gasping moan from your lips, and he growls once more, feeling the vibration of the sound against your skin.

"Oh, fuck, yes , kitten. Keep making those sounds for me,” Satan groans. “You look so good like this, so helpless for me. I love the noises you make, taking every last inch of my cock.”

Green nails rake across the delicate skin of your back, leaving angry red welts in their wake. His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more frenzied, savoring the way you moan as the pain mixes deliciously with the pleasure. The sinful melody of skin smacking against skin permeates the room, pushing your hips back against his to meet in a harmony only the two of you know. 

His head drops back in pleasure as your pussy squeezes his cock, reaching a hand between your legs to rub circles around your clit with fervor. Your pleasurable cries grow louder with each breath, until their pitch practically reaches a sweet scream. Growing, Satan weaves his free hand into your hair, yanking your head to the side roughly, forcing your eyes to meet his. 

“Such a noisy thing, aren’t you?” he growls. “Do you want my brothers to hear you, striding through those double doors? You probably do, don’t you? My pretty little slut, so uncaring for having an audience, or how many get to fuck her, as long as they can satiate the ache between her legs.”

Satan releases his grip on your hair, moving his hand to press two fingers against your mouth. You part your lips, taking them into your mouth and sucking on them. He continues his merciless thrusts, working in perfect unison with the stimulation on your wet, now-swollen clit. It doesn’t take long before the fire pools low in your belly once more, your release threatening to take over you before you can even ask for permission.

“I want to cum, Satan, please!” your breathy cry rings out against the sounds of your sins.

“Yes, you do, kitten, because I’m making you feel  so  good, aren’t I?” Satan grins smugly with the words. “Cum for me. I want to feel that tight little pussy milking my cock, my name falling helplessly from your lips as you scream in pleasure. I’m going to breed you like the whore you are, and you had better not waste a single. Fucking. Drop.”

Time feels like it slows for a blissful few moments, your release building, more intensely than the first time. 

“F-fuck, S-Satan!”

Your eyes practically roll back as your head drops forward, body shuddering. The wildfire of pleasure roils relentlessly, burning through your veins second by sweet second, every cell in your body filled with the delicious feeling. Satan groans, his own release rapidly approaching. He continues to fuck into you as you cum before giving in to it, moaning loudly as he empties himself inside you almost endlessly, filling you to the brim with ropes and ropes of cum.

“Fuck, Kitten,” Satan pants, his chest heaving as he pulls out of you. “But I’m not done with you quite yet.”

His tail releases its hold on your wrists. Grabbing your arm again before you can drop forward, he gently turns you to face him, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss briefly before he flips you over onto your back. Hands move to spread your legs, pushing your knees to your chest. Satan observes you closely, peering between your legs; admiring your pussy, his seed dripping a slow trail onto the tops of your thighs before sliding onto the table beneath you. 

“I did say you had better not waste a single drop,” he muses, “yet here you are, leaking onto the table.”

Satan shakes his head before rubbing a thumb over your swollen clit. Feeling smug, he rubs just a bit faster, knowing the bundle of nerves is extra sensitive after your release, basking in the lewd noises you make.

“You fucking slut, you’re practically gaping for me. No wonder you can’t even keep all my cum inside you,” he chides, kneeling between your legs. “Perhaps I should help to ensure it stays inside of you?”

Pressing his fingers together, he slides his hand into your pussy.

“That’s my good girl,” Satan praises you, grinning at the way you continue to writhe at his touch. 

The generous stretch of your pussy with his hand feels so good, nearly as good as his cock and you moan louder and bite your lip, head dropping back. A bulge appears between your hips as he begins to pump his fist slowly back and forth inside you, the movement causing a few more droplets of his cum to spill out onto your thighs, and can't help but laugh a little.

“Oh, I suppose this just means I need to fill you up again to ensure you’re bred properly, my beautiful little cumslut,” he resolves, voice laden with silk.

Pulling his fist from between your legs, he quickly replaces it with his tail, dipping it into your slick pussy and thrusting it in and out a few times.

"Wouldn't want you feeling empty for too long, pet," Satan purrs.

The ridges play beautifully over your g-spot, and you gasp at the feeling. God, how fucking delectable you look in that moment. Eyes glazed over and blown out with lust, so far gone to him. You are his, but he isn’t done with you just yet. 

Satan smirks in satisfaction before sliding his tail out of your wet heat, moving it down and pressing the tapered tip of his tail against your puckered hole. Your eyes widen, curiosity and surprise widening your pupils.

“This time, kitten, I’m going to fuck both of your holes until you ask me to let you cum all over my cock; until you cum so  hard , you’re seeing stars.”

Satan presses his tail, thoroughly coated in your arousal, harder against your ass, a smug look overtaking his handsome features as you whine. Your legs fold back, knees pressed into your chest as you open yourself completely to him.

“Do it, Satan, please ,” you beg him, eyes pleading with urgency. “I just want to be so full of you, full of your cock and your cum. Please.”

With your permission, he slides his tail into your ass, grinning sadistically as your head rocks back against the table, clenching slightly, the sinful melody of your sweet moans the most beautiful music he has  ever  heard. He pumps it back and forth a few times, slowly at first, tapered ridges massaging the tight muscles, working to open you to him just a bit further. Feeling yourself loosen, his tail begins to move just a bit faster.

“Such a desperate little slut, begging to let me wreck your holes. I hope you’re ready now to take all of me, pet,” Satan murmurs.

“I am, I am, just please fuck me!”

“Gladly, kitten.”

Placing both hands on your hips, Satan pushes his cock back inside your needy pussy, lifting your hips and groaning at the way your tight walls quiver around him. He slams into you mercilessly, propping up your legs to rest on his shoulders, allowing him to push deeply, until he can go no further. Eyes move down to your abdomen where he is greeted by the swell of his cock between your hips. Another feral growl sounds from his chest at the sight of it, moving even faster, mesmerized by the way your body bends to his  every  move. 

“Look, pet,” he growls. “That’s right. That’s my cock swelling in your belly, stretching your tight little body out.”

Snapping his hips into you at an animalistic pace, his growls grow louder, demonic instinct taking over; the careful restraint he tried so hard to maintain completely gone at the sight of your belly distending with his cock inside it. He sees red, sees nothing but fulfilling his natural desires in the form of fucking your holes without mercy.

“Harder, Satan, harder! It feels so good, don’t hold back,” your voice rings out, words stunted by small gasps and moans. 

The demon growls in slight annoyance, reaching a hand up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing lightly. His cock and his tail move in perfect sync, sliding in and out of your tight holes, increasing their pace as he fucks harder into you, caring little for your comfort as you bite back a scream.

“Is this what you want, kitten?” Satan’s words escape him in a feral snarl. “You like pushing boundaries, don't you, seeing exactly how much you can take or how much you can get away with? I think you may have forgotten, my sweet pet, of exactly who is in charge of your pleasure here. Perhaps you need a reminder.”

Snaking a hand between your legs, he rubs your clit feverishly. The Avatar of Wrath relishes your cries of pleasure, increasing in volume with each thrust until they near the high pitch of a scream.

“That’s right,” Satan growls. “Keep making those sounds for me, my sweet pet. Now…  cum for me for a third time tonight like a good girl.”

The sweet, sweet pressure in your ass and your pussy is too much to bear, and your release slams into you with no warning. Body writhing beneath him, your back arches, electrified ecstasy coursing through your veins as your heart pumps into every part of your body. A high-pitched scream of pleasure cuts through the air, surely loud enough to wake his brothers, but he doesn’t care.

“That’s my good girl, kitten,” he rasps, words stunted in his efforts. “I’m right behind you…”

Moving at a brutally fast pace, Satan chases his own release. It grips him shortly after you cum, and he spills into you endlessly once more, groaning and filling your pussy with his bitter seed. He pulls out of you, slowly removing his tail from your ass and keeping your legs spread, kneeling before you once more. Noting the way his cum continually leaks from your gaping pussy onto the library table, he shakes his head, chuckling again as he zips his pants back up.

“Well, I suppose that just gives me another excuse to have to keep filling you up, hm, kitten?” Satan laughs, reaching a hand out to you.

“S-Satan… thank you…,” you whimper, gazing into the mesmerizing pools of jade sea you have come to know well over the course of the night before grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“Oh? Thanking me?” he says in surprise, a genuine grin on his face. “I suppose I have to thank you as well, my sweet kitten. Thank you for taking all of me, and for giving me all of yourself.”

Satan steps back to pull you up to sitting as you pant and try to collect yourself. He wraps an arm around your waist, bearing your weight, your eyes closing in sudden exhaustion. He lifts you up off the table, pressing soft kisses against your forehead. You protest, starting to say something about leaving your notes behind and needing to study when Satan silences you with a deep kiss, pulling away after a few moments with a wink.

“Come, pet. Spend the night with me, and we will come to collect your things tomorrow. I believe a few healing spells and a bath are in order. And then, perhaps, see if we can’t get you those missing notes you’ve been searching for.”

[jingabitch]

To Love an Empress

SUMMARY: Despite the acrimonious beginning to your relationship, Yoongi is drawn to you.

PAIRING: emperor!yoongi x empress!reader

RATING: E

WARNINGS: smut | unprotected sex (they’re husband and wife and also this is a historical au so there are no condoms but be safe okay) | references to war | yoongi’s scar is discussed | yoongi kills a man (mentioned but not explicit) | secret admirer stuff

WORD COUNT: 9.8k

A/N: My final submission for the BTS Ghostie bingo, yay! This one fills the secret admirer tile. This fic is kind of based on Henry VII and Elizabeth of York’s early relationship, and inspired by The White Princess, so if some of the dialogue and scenes are similar, that’s why. 

Shoutout to my lovely betas @knjkitten and @yoongs-jeontae for helping me beta this! Banner by @jkeuphoriadreamland​ 💕 i’ve never had a banner on a fic before this is fun hehe

Min Yoongi was a hard man, and he knew it. He’d won his throne on the battlefield, running his sword through the old king and crowning himself right there on the blood-stained grass.

You knew it too, could never forget it when you looked at your husband. The scar on his face from an injury he’d sustained during the decisive battle for his crown; the memory of how coldly he’d treated you at the beginning; the baby growing inside you as a result of Yoongi’s insistence that you demonstrate your ability to provide him with heirs before he would marry you. As if he’d had a choice, when your bloodline was the cornerstone of his legitimacy.

After all the angry words and hostility between the two of you, he knew there was no chance you would forgive him. And yet, a part of him craved it. He saw the kindness you lavished on your ladies-in-waiting, the servants, and all the children running around the palace who were sons and daughters of the nobles and the army of servants working here. Was it so wrong of him to want just a little of that for himself? You were his wife, after all.

Yoongi was a warrior. He’d trained all his life to take control of the kingdom. War was all he knew.

Which made him, unfortunately, woefully inept when it came to wooing a lady, especially one so resistant to him. He’d relied on his looks before, but now that he had the scar on his face, it seemed that even that tool was no longer at his disposal. God knows you hated it.

With no one else to turn to, he asked his eunuch what he should do. At first, the portly man just blinked at him, confused. “She’s your wife, you don’t have to persuade her to warm your bed,” he pointed out.

Yoongi grimaced. “I know that,” he grumbled. “I want her to like me.”

Sambo snorted. “Should have thought about that before you made her ‘prove her fertility’ to you.”

Sulking, Yoongi got up and stormed away from his eunuch. Obviously, he knew that, and he wished that no one else did. It wasn’t like him to force a lady like that, but tensions had been running high at the time and he hadn’t trusted a woman from the house of L/n. You must have run to your lady-in-waiting and cried to her when it was over, because Sambo had gotten quite the shelling from her the next day.

Sambo, who’d quickly grown used to the antics of his master, just hurried along beside Yoongi. “Just give her something pretty,” he advised. “Women like that.”

Yoongi stopped short. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “That’s a great idea,” he enthused. “You’re useful for once, Sambo,” he praised his eunuch.

Sambo rolled his eyes to hide his pleased smile. “You’d think a grown man would know something like that,” he jibed. “Taking love advice from someone who can’t even perform must be a new low for you.”

“Whatever.” Yoongi waved off the insult. “I’ll get her a nice hairpin,” he decided. “But don’t tell her it’s from me.” He didn’t want you throwing it out in disgust.

“She’s obviously going to know,” Sambo pointed out. “There is no man in Joseon suicidal enough to woo the empress. That’s treason.”

Frowning, Yoongi snapped, “Just do it,” before stalking back into his room with a huff and shutting the door in Sambo’s face. The eunuch really didn’t need to rain on his parade like that, even if he was probably right. Hopefully you wouldn’t immediately come to the conclusion that it was him. It wasn’t just that he was afraid you’d throw out a gift from him—he wanted to make you smile. Not because you were bound to him and might as well exhibit some fondness towards your husband, but because he was really, truly capable of making you happy.

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

Pregnancy had been difficult for you so far. Without your mother around, you were left to go through it by yourself. At least Ling, your personal servant-turned-lady-in-waiting, was here with you. You’d been together since you were a child and she was a young teen, and she was like a sister to you.

The morning sickness was starting to fade, thankfully, but you still got nauseous sometimes, so Ling suggested that you have your breakfast in the courtyard to enjoy some fresh air and sunshine while the cleaners dusted and polished your quarters.

When you finally got back to your room after being bullied by Ling into taking a little walk – exercise was good for the baby, she insisted – there was a hairpin lying on your table, next to the novel you’d been reading. Curiously, you knelt down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” you asked Ling, who was trailing a few steps behind you.

“It’s a hairpin, milady,” she responded somewhat cluelessly.

“Yes,” you said patiently, “but why is it here? I’ve never seen this before.” Looking more closely at it, you turned it over a few times in your hand. It truly was pretty, a delicate gold phoenix carved into the end of the pin, decorated with pink flowers and milky jade balls around the base of the phoenix.

Sitting down on the other side of the table, Ling pulled your hand holding the pin closer to her so she could examine it too. “I don’t know, but it’s so pretty,” she sighed. “Maybe you have a secret admirer,” she giggled.

“Yes, the pregnant empress has a secret admirer,” you said drolly. Everything about your existence, from the gilded cage you were trapped in, to your marriage to the most powerful man in Joseon, to the heir you were carrying in you, screamed that you were taken, owned by a man. And not just any man, of course, but the one whose wife was strictly, on pain of death, off-limits.

“Well, you never know,” Ling said lightly. “Just take it for what it is,” she advised. “Someone wants to make you happy!”

“All right,” you accepted skeptically, but you couldn’t quite stop the smile from stealing across your face. After living as a political pawn for so many years because of your family and giving up everything for the man who’d killed your uncle, it did feel nice to think that there was someone out there who liked you for you.

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

You weren’t stupid, of course. You had considered that it was your husband who’d had the pin sent to you. It made sense, after all – he was the only man in the whole of Joseon who could do something like that. It didn’t take long for you to disabuse yourself of that notion, however. Yoongi hated you, considered you the snake in his midst. Taking a L/n bride after defeating the House of L/n was the last thing he’d wanted to do, and he’d made that abundantly clear when you met. Hell, even before that, when he’d sent a platoon to your residence in the countryside to retrieve you.

Your first interaction with the new emperor had gone woefully poorly, with cruel words said on both sides.

As angry and resentful as you were about being claimed as his wife, you weren’t in any mood to be supplicant to the new emperor. When they brought you to meet him, in an admittedly charming gazebo, you knelt without bowing or greeting him, refusing to even look straight at him.

“Are you just going to sulk, then?” he drawled, and you barely resisted the urge to strangle him with your bare hands.

“We’ve done nothing right; surely you aren’t insisting that we follow tradition now?” you replied, your light tone doing little to hide your displeasure. This was all wrong, you knew. Despite Ling hovering just out of earshot keeping a watchful eye on things, you knew that your reputation was at stake simply from meeting the emperor alone before you were married.

It was unusual for you to enter the palace knowing that you were to be the empress, too. Usually the empress dowager chose her son’s bride, based on a series of tests that demonstrated her suitability for the throne. But, you knew, you were already the best candidate, purely based on your bloodlines.

Yoongi leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him. “Of course not,” he said, and his low, dangerous voice caused your breath to catch as you jerked your head forward to look at him properly for the first time. You couldn’t help but gasp at the long scab slicing through his eye. Catching you staring at it, he smiled bitterly.

“Are you afraid of your fiancé?” he asked.

“Of course not,” you hissed. “Just horrified that I have to lie with a disfigured monster.”

You remembered the way he’d jerked back, as if scalded. Okay, so you weren’t blameless in the current state of affairs you found yourself in, this hateful sham of a marriage that neither of you enjoyed. Still, given the acrimonious relationship you had with your husband, it seemed less than likely that he was your secret admirer.

“Poor, pitiful L/n Y/n,” he responded coldly. “Why don’t we get it over with, then?”

“What?!” you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth.

He smiled at you coldly. “I will not repeat the mistakes of previous emperors,” he informed you, and your lips pursed in displeasure, recognizing his comment for the jibe that it was – most of the previous emperors in the history of the kingdom had been your ancestors. “Having no legitimate heir is a recipe for disaster.”

Despite your best attempts to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your reaction, you couldn’t hold back the blanch. Smirking in satisfaction at having gotten back at you for the cruel insult, he continued, “We will be wed only when you are pregnant.”

Really, after all was said and done, it was no wonder that you and your husband despised each other.

Still, maybe there was a part of you that wished the pin had come from him. It wasn’t that you were in love with Yoongi or something insipid like that, it was just… you were kind of lonely here in the palace, with hardly anyone you knew around. The only person you’d been allowed to bring with you was Ling, because she’d been your servant for so long.

It would be nice to feel, just once more in your life, like you had a friend around you.

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

As your pregnancy progressed, you grew increasingly miserable and annoyed, and your secret admirer stepped up his efforts to cheer you up. From pretty flowers on your pillow to new books when you finished your existing ones, even pretty ribbons and once, a bag of a rare tea that was supposed to alleviate morning sickness, this mysterious individual was showing you more care than your own husband.

You rarely saw Yoongi these days, since he was usually busy in the throne hall, setting the country back to rights. Being a woman, you never got to attend the morning meetings and reading of the petitions, but from what you heard, Yoongi wasn’t the most competent politician. It frustrated you to no end – you were the daughter and niece of the past two emperors, had grown up learning about politics, history and economics, and yet your role was basically being a baby incubator while your inexperienced husband was led down all sorts of rabbit holes as the ministers tried to take advantage of the situation to fatten their own coffers.

The last straw came when you heard of a proposed tax increase for the peasants, purportedly to shore up the kingdom’s defenses. You knew Minister Su, who was in charge of defense, was greedy and corrupt, but very eloquent and had many supporters among the cabinet. Overcoming your own reluctance to speak to your husband directly, you stormed into his private quarters one evening, while he was relaxing with a drink.

“Get out,” you ordered his eunuch, who was kneeling by his side.

Sambo looked over at Yoongi, who nodded at him. Once the doors slid shut behind the eunuch, you knelt in front of your husband. Since you were about six months pregnant now, it was difficult for you to maneuver, but you managed. “I need to talk to you,” you told him.

“I gathered that,” he said dryly. “Could this not wait for a more appropriate audience?”

“No,” you rejected him flatly. “I heard that you’re considering a new tax on the peasants.”

“That’s none of your business.” He leaned back slightly and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You should reject the tax proposal, Your Grace,” you said quietly.

“I said, that’s none of your business,” he thundered, slamming his fist down on the table.

You winced, but continued, undeterred. “Minister Su does not have the best interests of the kingdom in mind, Your Grace. There was a bad harvest this year, and the people will not stand for a tax now, especially when they are already so tired of conflict.”

It seemed that bringing up the civil war that had just been fought between Yoongi and your uncle was a bad idea, as he looked even more furious. He sucked in a deep breath to yell at you, but you quickly continued, cutting him off before he could start.

“Your reign is still new, Your Grace, and the people are still unsure about you. Now is the time for generosity, so that they learn to love you.”

“Why does a L/n empress care about whether the people love me? You and your family hate me; you fought a war against me,” he scoffed, leaning back on his hands in a casual pose to show just how little he cared.

Bristling indignantly, you bit back, “You raised an army against my family! You are the usurper! Make no mistake of it, sir, I advise you not because of any attachment to you, but because I care about this kingdom.”

At that, some of the fire left him. “Everyone claims to care about the kingdom, but all they really care about is themselves. Do you think I don’t know that my ministers are watching me, waiting to take advantage? That people are plotting against me as we speak?”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s what it means to be the emperor. My father had the same thing, as did my uncle – from you.” Maybe goading him wasn’t the best thing to do right now, but you were pregnant, uncomfortable and irritated.

“Then how do I know that I can trust you?” he retorted, his frustration with the current situation bleeding through his voice.

You were going to murder this man, you swore. He wouldn’t need to wait for any plot coming from outside the palace walls. How could someone be capable enough to enact a coup against the emperor, and yet so frustratingly dim when it came to politics?

“Because my wagon is tied to yours, you idiot. I am your empress now before I am a L/n woman, and this child I carry inside me is a Min child. Do you think that if your rule fails, I can just go home, and all will be well for me? I will be executed together with you, and so will our child.”

That seemed to shut him up. “I’ll think about it,” he finally allowed grudgingly.

“Thank you,” you said, bowing with your forehead pressed to the back of your palms over the floor.

After you’d left, Yoongi thought about how that was the first time you’d bowed to him. It seemed there was much he didn’t know about his wife.

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

The next afternoon, you heard from Ling that the tax on the peasants had been rejected, and a jeweled comb was delivered to your room. This particular gift came directly from Sambo, so you knew that it was from Yoongi, and you accepted it for the apology that it was.

Two weeks later, proof of Minister Su’s corruption and embezzlement came to light, and he was sent into exile. You might have felt slightly smug about it, since you’d hated Minister Su ever since your own father was the emperor, but mostly you felt a little bad for Yoongi, having to deal with something like that so soon after coming to power.

That same night, Yoongi invited you to have dinner with him. Well, it was more like an order, because you weren’t in any position to turn down the emperor, but Ling was excited nonetheless as she got you ready, helping you into your pretty jeogori and braiding your hair into an elaborate bun.

“I’m so happy for you,” she gushed as she stood in front of you, tying the jeogori. “This could be the start of a new relationship between the two of you!”

“You know I can’t get more pregnant, right?” you asked drolly, raising a brow. In fact, you’d pretty much expected him to leave you alone for the rest of the pregnancy and only call on you once you were recovered enough to perform your conjugal duties once more.

“Oh, hush,” she giggled. “I’m sure he wants to see how you’re doing. You are carrying his heir, after all.”

“Sure, that’s me,” you muttered. “The incubator.”

“Be nice,” she admonished. “You want him to like you, so that he’ll give you more privileges. When your son becomes emperor, then you can swan around all day like the crone.” Suffice it to say, neither of you liked your mother-in-law that much.

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m just uncomfortable all the time.” Entering your third trimester of pregnancy, you were having trouble standing around and kneeling on the ground? Impossible. You’d had a table and chair moved into your room so that you could sit comfortably, but as far as you knew, Yoongi still sat on the ground for most of the day.

Ling didn’t know about your late-night meeting with the emperor a few weeks prior, but you wondered if this dinner had something to do with that.

In Yoongi’s room, something similar was happening, as Sambo fussed over his master’s robes.

“Sambo, enough,” Yoongi sighed. “I don’t have to look nice; she’s already my wife.”

Sambo scoffed. “I said the same thing to you about sending her those gifts, but you insisted then too.”

Yoongi glared at his eunuch without saying anything, mostly because he had no argument against that. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted the man; he’d done nothing but tease him about his crush since he found out.

Thankfully, your arrival cut Sambo’s fussing short – yet another thing he had to be grateful to you for, he supposed. It stung a little that his wife apparently knew more about politics than he did, but you seemed to want to help him, so there was that.

“Your Grace,” you greeted, bowing slightly.

“Good evening,” he responded. “Please, sit,” he invited, gesturing towards the table he had brought into his room just for this. He remembered how much you’d struggled with kneeling on the ground, and then getting up, the last time you’d come to visit him, and thought that this would make it easier for you.

You’d seen the table as soon as you entered the room, of course – it was kind of hard to miss, since the room was mostly empty. Accepting his offer with a gracious smile, you sat yourself down and clasped your hands together demurely in your lap. Yoongi sat across from you and nodded at the servant standing in the corner, and that was the signal for the food to start coming in.

To be honest, you’d expected to see Yoongi’s favourite dishes being served tonight, since everything at your wedding banquet had been his favourite foods, so you were pleasantly surprised to note that it was the food you’d been repeatedly requesting due to your cravings instead.

When the servants left, closing the doors after them, Yoongi spoke. “Please eat.” He gestured at the spread, and you acquiesced, picking up your chopsticks.

“Thank you for the advice,” he started.

The food you were holding with your chopsticks fell back onto your bowl of rice as your hand went limp in shock. “Wh-what?” Of all the things he could have said, that was the one you’d been expecting the least. In all honesty, you’d expected something more like admonishment for interfering – and a lack of other punishment that would serve as tacit acknowledgement that you’d been right. It was how your father had been with your mother.

To be fair, it looked like it was costing him dearly to thank you. “You were right about the tax,” he ground out.

“Oh…” You recovered quickly and nodded, graciously accepting his thanks.

“But don’t make a habit of interfering,” he continued. Right… so there was a catch, after all.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not,” you said sarcastically. “I’m just the brainless baby incubator, after all. It’s not like I grew up here, or have any knowledge and experience of palace politics, or anything of the sort.”

“You’re a woman—” he thundered, slamming his chopsticks down on the table.

“I am your empress,” you cut him off. “You insisted on marrying me precisely because of my bloodline, so I will not be sidelined, especially when we both know you could use all the help you can get!”

“Help that I can get from my advisors,” he huffed.

“One of your ministers was literally just exiled for corruption, so I don’t know why you want to throw in your lot with them, but sure.” You rolled your eyes. “Now, if that was all, I think I can take my meal in my own quarters tonight.”

Unfortunately, your dramatic exit was foiled by how much you struggled to get out of your seat. Biting back his smile at how cute you looked with your belly, Yoongi leapt to your aid – you were, after all, still his wife and carrying his child, so it was the least he could do.

You pinned him with a glare as he got up to assist you, but were left with no choice but to accept, holding on to his proffered arm and letting him basically hoist you up. “If you need anything…” he started, looking slightly contrite.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace,” you said. “I might be ‘just a woman’ –” your tone made it clear that you were mocking him, and he had the grace to look slightly chagrined – “but I am the empress, and I am carrying the heir to Joseon, so I get everything I ask for.”

“Good, that’s good…” he looked slightly shifty now, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him. He’d been acting like a bit of a dick, but to be fair, you supposed, it wasn’t like his attitude was uncommon. With Ling’s reminder ringing in your ears, you took his hand and brought it to the swell of your belly. Your child was strong and healthy, and even through the layers of your clothes Yoongi could feel the flutter of kicks.

“Wow…” he looked entranced, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. Your child had been conceived in hatred and anger, but you were determined that you would not raise him in that environment. No, he would know only love. You were sure of it.

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

Even though the dinner hadn’t gone according to plan, it was still somewhat of a shift in your relationship with your husband. Now when your paths crossed, he smiled at you instead of just walking by stonily.

The gifts from your secret admirer continued too, which made things kind of confusing for you. On the one hand, you were trying to make this thing with your husband work, if only so that your child could grow up in a positive environment. It was difficult enough growing up in the palace, something you were keenly aware of.

And yet, the continued attention from this unknown person was starting to tug at your heartstrings. You hardly knew who it was but being shown kindness without any ulterior motive was certainly enough for you to think fondly of your secret admirer. He didn’t send gifts that often, usually once every other week or so, but each one brought a smile to your face. Sometimes it was your favourite flower, or a snack from another part of the world, or a cute trinket from the market, but all of them were equally dear to you.

The fluttering feeling that you got in your chest when you saw that he’d left you another gift was somewhat tempered by the guilt over the whole situation. Were you allowed to enjoy this attention? You looked furtively around, slightly worried that someone was going to knock the Japanese cakes out of your hand.

“You know,” Sambo said, standing next to Yoongi, who was peering at you from his hidden position behind a wall, “Some of your subjects might find it unseemly for their emperor to spend his days spying on his wife.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi grumbled, although the words had no heat to them, given how distracted he currently was. He hoped you liked the cakes.

“If you want to spend time with her, you can just ask, you know,” Sambo pointed out. “Haven’t you two been getting along better lately?”

“She still gets annoyed at me every time,” he sighed. “I don’t want to upset her, she looks miserable enough as is.”

Sambo, watching you rub the small of your back as Ling fussed over you, had to agree. At eight months pregnant, you looked fit to pop. “Well, she’ll give birth soon, and then things will be better,” he said, patting the emperor on the back. “You really need to be more discreet, though. She can tell it’s you from a mile away.”

Yoongi looked over at Sambo and scowled. “No way,” he denied.

“Really? So there are lots of men walking around decked out in the emperor’s robes, and have blonde hair, then?”

“Fine.” Yoongi sulked. “Let’s go, then.”

“You know you have a bunch of petitions to review, right?”

“I get it.”

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

To put it mildly, labour sucked. But at the end of it, you had a beautiful little boy, handed to you wrapped in a blanket. “Wow,” you marveled at your son, stroking his cheek with your thumb as you cuddled him close. Your own dear boy. Cradling him in your arms, it hardly mattered that he was a Min, that he represented the end of your house on the throne. Your son was all that mattered now.

Looking up, you saw Yoongi hovering by the entrance to the room, looking on hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure if he would be welcome. The idea was laughable to you – he was the emperor, there was nowhere he couldn’t go. You remembered your own father striding around as if he owned the place, because he did. No matter how fond he’d been of your mother, it had always been clear in the way he acted that he knew he was the boss. At best, she was a favoured subordinate.

You could see some of that attitude in Yoongi, and you accepted it – that was how men were, after all. But sometimes, peeking through the haughty exterior, you caught glimpses of someone kind and considerate. Someone you could grow fond of.

“Come in and meet him,” you invited.

As he came closer, he breathed, “It’s a boy?” His voice was slightly choked.

Smiling, you nodded. He knelt next to you and peered into the blanket, staring down at his son for the first time. Then he turned his head slightly to regard you. “You look beautiful,” he complimented, and you looked up, surprised. You didn’t know exactly what you looked like, but you were sure you were a mess after labour and childbirth. Your hair was a matted, sweaty mess, and you were dressed simply, in a cotton underdress.

Still, from the way he watched you holding the baby, you could have been dressed in the most beautiful of clothes and jewels.

“Do you want to hold him?” you asked, and his eyes lit up.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded, passing the little bundle over to him.

“My son,” he said softly, leaning his head down to get closer to the baby. “Min Man-bok.” The name had been chosen by the astrologers, who said it would bring him great fortune throughout his life. You hoped it was true. This boy would grow up to be the emperor that united the warring houses of Min and L/n, and finally put an end to all the senseless violence that had stolen the lives of your brothers, and later, your uncle.

As you watched them – your husband and your son – you felt a sense of contentment like you’d never known before. In that moment, it hardly mattered that they were the emperor and the crown prince, that the weight of the kingdom rested upon your baby’s tiny shoulders. For that brief window, they could just be… yours.

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

The birth of your son changed everything. The gifts that had once been so dear to you because they meant that someone was out there thinking of you now seemed almost uncomfortable, like unwanted attention that threatened the security of your family. You knew it was ridiculous – after all, the giver of said gifts had been quietly doing so for months, never trying to push his luck or making his identity known to you.

Still, though, as you became closer to your husband, that nagging feeling that you were doing something wrong wouldn’t leave you. Thankfully, the gifts seemed to dry up, and you wondered if your anonymous admirer was really that astute. Whoever he was, you owed him your gratitude. He’d known when to start, and, it seemed, just when to stop.

In actuality, Yoongi had just been too busy to think about sending the gifts. Having a son took up much of the time that he wasn’t already spending governing, which had also increased in the past month or so. There was so much entertaining to do, as the lords and ladies of the land came to express their fealty to the crown prince, and as Yoongi made ever more ambitious diplomatic alliances with other kingdoms now that his reign was secured with the birth of his son.

In whatever spare time he had, he was constantly hanging around you and Man-bok, fawning over his son and enjoying your company. Despite your confinement, you thwarted the rules by sitting right outside your door to get a little sun and fresh air, often holding your son while you did so. It was a beautiful sight, one he wanted to continue to drink in for the rest of his days.

It was no surprise, therefore, that his priority wasn’t sending cute gifts to you anonymously, since he was always around you. When your confinement finally ended, he threw a little two-person party, ordering the kitchen to make all of the food you’d been craving since you were pregnant that had been off-limits for you, including your old favourites. He even managed to get the cook from your country estate into the palace, to make your childhood favourite.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said at the end of it, resisting the urge to lean back on your hands to give your stomach more space.

“Thank you,” he countered. “I am forever in your debt.”

“It was my duty,” you demurred. It was the truth – you’d always known that it would be your job to bring heirs to your husband.

“Still.” There was a beat of silence as a servant rushed to fill your cups with rice wine. He lifted his cup to toast you. “You have brought new hope to this kingdom. An emperor who will unite the houses of Min and L/n.”

“I thought our marriage accomplished that,” you giggled. You might have had too much alcohol tonight, after almost a year of not having any.

“You really think so?” he breathed, looking at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and told him they were for him.

“Yoongi…” It was the first time you’d called him by name. In your defense, the open, vulnerable way he was looking at you made it difficult to remember that he was a warrior king, despite the scar on his face that attested to his experience fighting a war. “Of course, Your Grace.” You recovered from your slip quickly, and you flushed slightly, hoping he wouldn’t remember it.

Of course, that was a doomed wish. He’d committed it to memory, the sound of your precious voice speaking his name, and in that almost fond and tender tone, too. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest, and knew he was done for.

When he left your quarters that night after dinner, he barely waited till he’d descended the steps to pump his fist in the air. That was the most successful interaction you’d had with him to date, not counting when Man-bok was born, of course, since he was pretty sure you were so exhausted you couldn’t snipe at him if you tried then.

“Your Grace!” Sambo, walking a step behind him, sounded scandalized.

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

“So, tonight went well,” Ling prompted as she helped you get ready for bed. You sat in front of her, letting her take the pins out of your hair and sighing in relief. Your updo was often twisted so tightly it pulled on your scalp, and the giant metal pins hurt, to say the least.

“How would you know that?” you murmured, trying to keep a straight face. Ling would never let you live this down if you confessed to her just how much you enjoyed the company of your husband these days. Not after you’d screamed so loudly and for so long about how you hated him and didn’t ever want him to touch you.

In your defense, he’d really been a nightmare to live with at the beginning, cold and angry, mistrustful of your intentions. Not that he’d had any reason to trust you based on the way you’d treated him. You still cringed to think of the angry, cruel words that had been exchanged between you. You’d mocked the scar on his face from your uncle, the previous emperor, and he’d taken pleasure in describing the way he ran his sword through him in exchange. You’d laughed at his tenuous grip on the throne, and he’d—

Well. Suffice it to say, both of you had moved past that.

Ling reached over you to shift the mirror so that you could see your own face in it. “You’ve always had a shitty poker face, milady,” she explained. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

You sighed. “I knew I should have gotten different servants when I came,” you responded without any heat.

“Please, as if you have the patience to teach someone else just how you like your morning routine,” Ling scoffed, recognizing your teasing for what it was. Finally removing the last pin from your hair, she smoothed her hands over it as it tumbled down your back, then picked up the brush to comb through it.

“You’re right. I guess I’m stuck with you,” you responded, tilting the mirror slightly so you could look at Ling in it.

“Whatever. Stop trying to change the subject,” Ling ordered. “What happened tonight? You looked so happy when he left, and he could barely hold back his grin.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that,” you said defensively. “I’m barely even recovered from giving birth; I’m hardly ready for more.”

“All right,” Ling conceded, though you could tell from her tone that she was still amused. Belatedly, you realised that your defense hadn’t been about how you felt about your husband at all. “Have a good night, milady.”

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

Having a son changed everything. You knew, perhaps better than anyone else, save your brothers, the dangers that came with being an heir to the throne, and it worried you to pieces that his life would never be safe.

You’d told your husband before, completely unsympathetically, that this was what being the king would entail. Having people after you, coveting what was yours, always lurking in the shadows and waiting for a time to strike… the idea that your own son would be subject to the travails of being the emperor made you want to clutch him to your breast and never let him go.

Yoongi caught you in one of your moods one afternoon, sitting in the gazebo in your private gardens, leaning against a pillar as you rested your son against your thighs. You cooed at him as you played with his hands and feet, smiling as he laughed back at you, but the furrow of your brow gave you away.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting down next to you. It was rare for you two to be alone – Ling and Sambo were usually hanging around, and Man-bok’s nanny and wet nurse weren’t too far from the baby either. But you’d wanted a little time to bond with your son alone, so they were hanging out by the pond a small distance away. Ling had become friends with the nanny and nurse, and they were more than happy to have a little free time to gossip.

You picked up your infant son’s hand and used it to wave at him. “Hello, daddy,” you said in a high-pitched baby voice, and Yoongi smiled tenderly at the both of you, although you were still looking down at Man-bok and didn’t see it.

“Hello, my son,” he replied, leaning in to pick Man-bok up. You straightened his clothes a little as Yoongi stood the baby up on his lap, bouncing him a little. Yoongi was truly a remarkably involved father, especially for being the emperor.

“Yoongi, I’m worried about Man-bok,” you confessed in a small voice, looking up at your husband for the first time. Even the scar on his face now was a reminder of how difficult it was to be the emperor – Yoongi had been lucky to escape with just a disfigured face. He hadn’t even lost his vision.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yoongi asked with a frown, turning the boy slightly in his grasp to inspect him. He looked healthy enough, but you never knew with babies, really.

“Nothing,” you rushed to reassure him. “It’s just that being the crown prince is dangerous, and being the emperor is even worse.” Your voice choked up as you explained. Saying the words out loud made them more real somehow, and you almost wished you hadn’t.

“Y/n…” Yoongi looked over at you, shifting Man-bok so that he was being held more securely against him. “Is this about your uncle?” At the beginning, he’d never thought much about the fact that you were related to the previous emperors, but now the fact that he’d basically murdered your uncle in cold blood hung over his head like the sword of Damocles.

“Y/n… I’m sorry.” The words stuck in his craw, but he forced himself to say them anyway. It was a lie, but if it was what you needed to feel better…

Instead of accepting his apology, you made a rude noise. “For what?” you asked.

“For your uncle…?” Confused now, Yoongi cocked his head at you and furrowed his brow.

“Why would you need to apologize? Of course you raised an army to take the throne. It was his fault for leaving potential heirs alive.” The nonchalant way you expressed that sentiment gave him pause. He’d never taken you for someone so cavalier about violence and death. “He did the same thing to my brothers.”

The way your lips tightened as you said it clued him in to the fact that that was what was really bothering you. Of course, your brothers. The two princes that your uncle had had imprisoned and then murdered to secure his rule. When your father had died, your uncle had been declared regent since the crown prince wasn’t old enough to rule, and he’d wasted no time cementing his own authority instead.

“Y/n…” You avoided his gaze, instead reaching for Man-bok. He relinquished the boy to you and you hugged him close, needing to feel your son’s warm, healthy body pressed against you. “I promise you,” he continued, his voice full of conviction. “Nothing will ever happen to our son. Not so long as I live and breathe.” Ducking in, he pressed a tender kiss to the top of Man-bok’s head.

“Really?” The faint hope in your voice made his heart clench. In all the time he’d spent alternately admiring your kindness and cursing your stubborn, know-it-all streak, he’d never seen the vulnerability that you were showing him now. In hindsight, it was silly that he hadn’t realized this earlier, but of course you were scarred from the civil conflict that had been raging. Your family was in the thick of it all, and as much as the men and women involved were royalty, they were also your blood relatives. Really, it was a wonder you’d turned out as normal as you had.

“I swear on my life.” He’d never meant anything as much as he did now.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” Holding Man-bok with one hand, you reached for him with the other, sliding your arm along his shoulder to pull him close for a kiss. It was sweet and tender, a wonderful, perfectly fitting first kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as you drew close, wanting to savour the moment for as long as he could. Your lips were soft and you smelled like roses, just like the perfume he’d given you in secret.

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

It was highly unusual for the emperor to share a bed with his empress. Intimacy was carefully planned based on auspicious dates, and after the deed was done, you both got dressed and went your separate ways. You knew that, and yet you slipped into his room that night, after Man-bok’s 100-day celebration.

You’d gotten mostly undressed after the banquet ended, grateful to be out of your restrictive clothing. Man-bok was sleeping, of course, with his nanny, and you’d dismissed Ling too after she helped you out of the empress robes. Dressed in just your pajamas, you pulled a warm shawl over your shoulders and left your quarters. You just had so much pent-up energy from earlier, and you needed to talk to someone about it.

“Hey,” you said softly, slipping in through the doors just as Sambo was leaving. He gave you a sideways glance, but you ignored it.

“Hey,” Yoongi greeted, smiling at you. He too was in his pajamas, already in bed, the covers pooling around his waist as he sat up. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…” You swallowed, feeling a little silly now. This could have waited till tomorrow. “I guess I didn’t want the night to be over,” you confessed. It had been so much fun tonight, getting to meet and talk to everyone. Your sisters and old friends had come to the palace, and Man-bok had been so cute in his little ceremonial robes.

“I get it,” he said. “Come sit.”

You came closer, sliding the shawl off your shoulders, and knelt next to his futon. Illuminated in the soft light of the lamp nearby, the long blonde hair he’d left to tumble over his shoulders seemed to glow softly. Your own hair had been hastily put back in a bun – a lady never left her rooms with her hair down, after all. It was nowhere near as intricate as anything Ling could do for you, but it sufficed.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked with a soft smile.

“You know I did,” you giggled, leaning closer.

“Yes, I saw you having a grand old time with your sisters,” he teased, fondness evident in his voice. Ever since the kiss you’d shared, your relationship had been evolving. Yoongi didn’t know if you would ever forgive him for what he’d done to your family – despite your dismissive attitude towards your uncle – but he was content with this. You letting your guard down around him, seeking him out and enjoying his company… it was more than he’d allowed himself to hope for.

“Oh, I haven’t seen them in over a year,” you enthused. “It was so nice to see them all again! Thank you for inviting them,” you said, more quietly now. “I know it wasn’t an easy decision, inviting the L/n clan tonight.” Despite everything, you knew he was still insecure about his rule.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at you, then noticed for the first time the soft light glinting off the hairpin you were wearing, the one he’d bought for you. “Oh, you’re wearing the pin! I was right, it does look good on you,” he complimented.

“You— what?” Your voice was shaky, your eyes wide as you reached up to wrap your fingers around the pin, and Yoongi realized that he’d fucked up.

Just to be sure that it was the right one, you pulled it from your hair, causing the long locks to tumble over your shoulders. Brushing it aside impatiently, you inspected the pin. Sure enough, it was the same one that you’d received almost a year ago, and you’d never found out who sent it to you.

“It was you?” The words trembled, fragile in the darkness of the room, barely there, like a wisp of smoke.

“I… yes.” Yoongi was watching you carefully, his hands held out placatingly in front of him.

“But why?” It felt like your mind was shutting down, unable to reconcile this new information. Back when you’d gotten this pin, you could barely stand to be in the same room as your husband. You hadn’t even started being friendly until after Man-bok was born. To know that he hadn’t felt the same way, that he’d been quietly watching you, thinking of you…

“I just wanted to make you smile,” he said honestly with a half shrug.

“Yoongi…” Your voice was choked up, and he was starting to panic now, not quite sure what he’d done wrong. Even if you hadn’t welcomed his advances, he hadn’t overstepped, right? All he’d wanted to do was make you less miserable, and now he was thinking that he would have been better off leaving you alone altogether.

“Is… is that okay?” The words were hesitant, Yoongi ducking slightly to look at your face.

Sniffling, you nodded, swiping at your tears impatiently so you could look at him clearly. In the dim, flickering light, Yoongi’s face was the most beautiful, dear thing you’d ever laid eyes on. Your eyes roamed his face, seeing him as if for the first time. He was so handsome, your husband, your emperor.

“Are you disappointed? Is that why you’re crying?” Worry crinkled Yoongi’s brow. He knew he wasn’t the greatest catch. Throne aside, his hair was a strange colour and the scar running dramatically across his face marred him permanently. He was short and quiet, awkward, caustic… The insecurities came roaring to the forefront.

“No,” you denied, grabbing his hands and bringing them to your chest. You shuffled closer yet, so that your forehead rested against his. “I’m not disappointed at all. Yoongi…” you breathed, your eyes fluttering shut as you brushed your lips across his softly. “Thank you.” For caring about you even when you’d cursed him. For being by your side, even when you hadn’t known it. Just for being him.

Yoongi’s hand slipped from your grasp before reaching up to cup your face, his thumb running across your cheekbone tenderly. “You’re welcome.” He understood what you meant and responded in kind. “You give me more than you know, Y/n.”

The urge to give him more was rising within you. Holding onto his shoulders for balance, you swung one leg over his lap, so that you were straddling him. His hands went to your waist, supporting you and tugging you closer. “Y/n,” he groaned. “What do you want from me?”

Your response was unequivocal. “Everything.”

That was all the permission he needed. Yoongi’s hand travelled up from your waist to the back of your head, bringing you in for a fiery kiss. He poured all of the longing of the past months into it, his lips moving over yours with urgency. Try as you might to keep up, you couldn’t. You’d only had sex with him to conceive before, and it had always been a hasty, dispassionate affair. You didn’t know what to do with your hands or your mouth, your palms resting lightly on his shoulders. You liked this, enjoyed the way his tongue slid against yours, but your body was rigid with uncertainty.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Yoongi broke away from the torrid kiss to ask. His hand on your waist rubbed you soothingly as he leaned back to take a good look at you.

“Uh, yeah, I…” You stammered. “This isn’t like before,” you finally said. All you knew of sex was what he’d shown you before, quick thrusts with his hands holding onto your thighs while you clutched the bedsheets and tried not to let your pain and discomfort show.

It was vague, but Yoongi knew what you meant, and he flushed with shame. “I’m going to make it up to you, okay?” he said, wrapping his arms around you and turning so that you were lowered onto the futon. His forearms bracketed your body, holding his weight up as he lowered his head for another kiss. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he slurred against your lips, one hand reaching for the tie of your shirt.

“Yoongi,” you breathed, your hands sliding around his waist as you held on to his clothes, tugging him closer to you. You felt the hard press of his erection against your belly, and were filled with curiosity. Before, you’d never really wanted to get close to it, and he’d basically just shoved it into you with little fanfare. You’d never even gotten a good look before.

Undoing the ties to his trousers, you slid your hand in, running your fingers hesitantly along his cock.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and you jerked your hand back as if scalded.

“I’m sorry,” you started to apologize, and he backtracked immediately.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured you, nosing at your chin before he trailed kisses down your neck. You sighed and tilted your head, giving him more room.

“Really?” you asked.

“Yes, really,” he said, sucking a little mark right over your collarbone. Emboldened now, you tried again, this time wrapping your hand softly around the shaft. His skin was soft here, and so smooth, but you could feel the steely hardness underneath.

“Ah, you’re so good,” he praised, and you started stroking him lightly, carefully.

“Allow me,” he breathed as he slid his hand down your body, groaning as he found the wetness between your legs. “So perfect for me,” he sighed as he started stroking your clit softly, watching you for your reaction.

You moaned luxuriantly, throwing your head back as your hips rocked. You’d never felt anything like this before, and if this was what sex could be, it was no wonder everyone seemed to like it so much. As you grew distracted with the pleasure suffusing your being, your hand slowed down and then stopped on his erection, but he didn’t mind. Coaxing the sighs and moans from you was more than enough for him.

“I’m going to put my finger in now,” he warned you, and your eyes opened in confusion.

“Why?” you wondered.

“I have to stretch you out, love, so you can take me easily,” he answered, leaning down to kiss you.

“You didn’t before,” you pointed out, and he grimaced.

“Please forget everything I did before,” he groaned, sounding very much like he was in pain. “None of it was right, and I want to show you how much I love you.”

“You—what?” That was new. You hadn’t expected it so soon, if ever.

“Oh, fuck.” He reared back at that and clapped his hands over his mouth in horror. “I didn’t mean to say that! Please ignore it,” he pleaded. Honestly, he wouldn’t blame you if you put your clothes back on and ran out of there right now. What an embarrassing lapse of decorum.

To his surprise, you did none of that, instead wrapping your hands around his wrists and tugging them away from his face. “Did you mean it?”

“Y/n—” he whined, his face hot.

“Yoongi, please,” you said, and the tenderness in your voice gave him courage.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I don’t expect you to say it back! I know it’s too soon, and you might never feel that way about me, and that’s okay, really, I—”

You cut him off by tugging him close to you and kissing him. “I love you too,” you murmured softly when you separated.

“Really?” His voice was small, and you smiled as you nodded.

“Fuck, I’m going to make it all better,” he swore, his voice deepening into a growl towards the end. With a renewed sense of purpose, he pushed you back into the futon. His hands were everywhere as they stripped you of your clothing, and you felt a little exposed lying there bare for him to see. You were more than aware that your body hadn’t quite bounced back from pregnancy, and he’d never seen you completely nude anyway.

The sheer reverence reflected in his gaze did much to boost your confidence, though. “You’re so gorgeous,” he rasped, bending to tug a nipple into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching as he laved at it, his hand returning to its previous mission of getting you ready to take him. His thumb rolled over your clit gently as he slid his fingers into you, first one, then two, pumping slowly to loosen you up. The wet, lewd sound soon echoed through the room.

“Yoongi,” you breathed to get his attention, pushing his shirt over his shoulders. The tie had already come undone and the front was hanging rather uselessly by his sides, and it wasn’t difficult to remove it. Yoongi got the message, though, stripping himself off with far less fanfare than he’d done for you before coming back with a vengeance, as if the seconds he’d spent away from your body were too much to bear.

“Yoongi, c’mon,” you begged inarticulately, pulling his body down to yours by wrapping your arms and legs around him.

“Stop it,” he admonished. “I’m going to get you nice and ready for me. You have to be patient.” But you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“Yoongi, I want you to fuck me,” you whined, writhing on the mattress.

That certainly got his attention, and he looked back up at your face, seeing the expression of wild abandon painted across your features. Your eyes were shut and your mouth open as you lost yourself to the pleasure he was giving you, long hair spread across his pillow.

“You ruin me,” he accused as he withdrew his hand, using the slick coating his fingers to lube up his cock before he positioned it at your entrance. You moaned and arched, tightening your legs around him to draw him in deeper.

Before, when he’d done this, it had hurt. You’d been dry and he hadn’t put any effort into preparing you or making it a pleasurable experience for you, and you tensed up, remembering how unpleasant the experience had been before. You wanted to make him feel good, though, because he’d done the same for you, and it was that which motivated you to urge him into your body.

When he slid in, inch by glorious inch, contrary to your expectations you didn’t feel pain. No, there was a stretch, but it was intensely pleasurable, and you writhed against him. “Ah, Yoongi, it feels so good,” you gasped.

“Yeah?” he said, sucking marks into your neck. “You like that?” When he finally bottomed out, he rested his forehead against yours, panting as he tried to retain some control.

“Yes, Yoongi,” you moaned, wriggling and clenching down on him, desperate for more.

“Fuck, don’t move,” he gasped, his eyes wide as he clutched your hip. “I want to make this good for you.”

“It is good,” you insisted, ignoring his instructions.

“Y/n, you don’t even know,” he groaned, bracing himself as he started to move his hips. He was gentle at first, making sure that it didn’t hurt, but you were impatient, whining that you wanted more, and before he knew it, he was really going at it, one arm hooked around your leg to hold you open for him.

“Yoongi, yes, yes,” you exulted, thrilled. The expression on his face, his brow furrowed tightly, was endlessly exciting for you, and you loved the motion of his jaw as he clenched hard, focusing on pleasing you.

Adjusting his position, he started thrusting again, this time skidding against your g-spot with every thrust. To really seal the deal, he reached down to rub at your clit with his fingers, drinking your every sound and movement up eagerly. You raked your nails down his back as your legs tightened around him, clenching down on him hard as you came.

Faced with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him rhythmically, he couldn’t hold it together much longer, pressing his forehead into your neck as he reached his own orgasm, groaning as his hips stuttered sporadically.

When it was over, he slumped down over you, barely remembering to tilt his body at the last second so that he slid off you and onto the futon. “I love you,” he gasped, throwing one sweaty arm over your chest to drag you closer to him so he could press kisses over your face. “I love you so much.”

Smiling, you turned your head, rubbing your nose against his affectionately. “I love you too, Your Grace.” The teasing lilt in your voice as you called him that warmed his heart. Before he could say much more, however, you yawned and turned, slinging your arm around his waist. “Good night,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest.

“Good night.” He rested his hand on the back of your head. His empress, his wife. His love.

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

If you liked it, please leave a comment and/or reblog. It goes a lot further than a like. Thank you!

[dwellordream]

“I can’t believe I have to write this down right now, but my dear friends, medieval people bathed regularly. Yes. I assure you. I am very serious. It is true. In fact, medieval people loved a bath and can in many ways be considered a bathing culture, much in the way that say, Japan is now. Medieval people also very much valued being clean generally in an almost religious way. This is not to say that getting clean was as easy for medieval people as it is for us now.

But medieval people were very clever and had ways of getting around that. So, say you are an average-ass medieval person. That means you are a peasant, because 85% of the population or so were peasants. This meant that you were working very hard doing manual labour in a field. How would you stay clean? Well you would probably wash daily at home. This usually involved filling an ewer with water, heating it and then poring it into a larger basin which allowed for ease of scrubbing….

Say that you couldn’t or didn’t have time to heat up water though, what then? Well people would just bathe in a local water source… So, fine, regular people figured out how to get wet, right? Well, the other thing that is important to note here (and I can’t believe I am saying this), when washing at home medieval people used soap. Yes. I am serious. They did. In fact soap is a motherfucking medieval invention. Yes. It is. The Romans – whomst I don’t see a bunch of basics going around accusing of being filthy – did not, in fact have soap, in contrast. They usually washed using oil. Medieval people? Oh you better believe that they had soap.

It was first introduced from the East, like most good stuff was at the time, but it took off rather quickly. Your peasant ass would likely have been making soap at home, and books of secrets often included various recipes for soap, all of which can still be made today. The general ingredients were usually tallow, mutton or beef fat, some type of wood ash or another, potash, and soda.

However, soap could also be purchased. As early as the seventh century soap makers guilds began to spring up , trading it as a high value commodity. If you were fancy enough to be buying soap you could also get the good imported stuff initially from Aleppo, which was traded heavily and involved laurel oil rather than animal fat. After importing rather a lot of this to Castille, in the twelfth century the denizens there got to thinking that they could probably create a similar product using the local olive oil. Voila! Castille soap was born and also became a popular trade good.

Even if you couldn’t get the good fancy soap, many people would scent the water that they bathed in, often with thyme or sage. People often used herbs not just for washing, but in deodorant as well. Yes. They had deodorant. It was often made of bay leaves, hyssop or sage. In fact, one of the more popular medieval deodorant recipes came from Dioscorides, a Greek physician active in the first century AD. His De Materia Medica was super popular throughout the medieval period and advised readers on how to make a deodorant using salvia and sage.

Medieval people also regularly washed both their hands and faces both before and after meals when in between baths because – stay with me here – they knew that dirt and grime could be hazardous to their health if ingested. Yes. They did. They really really did. In fact, the whole washing after eating thing was an explicit health concern, because as medieval medical writers such as Magninius Mediolanesis noted, If any of the waste products of third digestion are left under the skin that were not resolved by exercise and massage, these will be resolved by the bath.

Our girl Hildegard of Bingen even had a recipe for face cleanser because apparently she was a skin-care bitch. She advises that, one whose face has hard and rough skin, made harsh from the wind, should cook barley in water and, having strained that water through a cloth, should bathe his face gently with the moderately warm water. The skin will become soft and smooth, and will have a beautiful color.

So yes, medieval people, even regular old peasants were pretty clean types of people. In fact, they were so clean that for them bathing constituted a leisure activity. So the average person would likely wash daily at home, but once a week or so they would treat themselves to a bath at the communal bath house. That is where the party was at.

…You, my gentle readers may have picked up on something here, and that is that our girls the sex workers be showing right TF up in the public baths. This meant that whether or not you admitted them made the difference between whether you were keeping a bathhouse or a brothel. Here in London, of course the Stews in Southwark were essentially brothels where you could also have a bath (and were largely owned by the Bishop of Winchester (as you do).

Having said that, there were plenty of people who went to bathhouses just to go to bathhouses and by 1292 in Paris, there were at least 26 running that could give you just a bath. Medieval people related to this very much as we do having a spa day, and medieval bathhouses often included steam baths along with big wooden tubs where you could sit down and enjoy a meal. In order to stand out from the crowd, the Parisian bathhouses would even employ criers to advertise themselves.

And, I cannot stress this enough, this was just for regular ass people. Rich people? Oh, you better believe they were bathing, and often had dedicated rooms for washing unlike the poors. They also might go places simply to bathe, like Bath in England, or the thermal baths in Pozzuli in Campania, which was so famous it had a whole ass poem, De balneis Puteolanis written about it. They could also afford that nice soap and perfume and all that good stuff. In fact they were so into poncey baths that most medieval knighthood ceremonies involved having a scented bath.

So OK, clearly, fucking clearly medieval people bathed and were clean and into it. So why am I telling you all of this? Well the idea that medieval people didn’t bathe is a persistent myth that some basics on twitter will come at me with at least once a week. Why is that? Well part of it is a modern misunderstanding of the idea of bathing. It’s true that we have medieval sources which warn against “excessive” bathing. But here’s the thing, that wasn’t really about being clean, it was about hanging out naked in bathhouses with the opposite sex. They didn’t want you to not be clean, they wanted you to not be going down the bath house and getting your fuck on.

And yeah, some holy people didn’t bathe, notably saints who would forego bathing themselves but bathe sick or poor people. But if you bring that up you are missing the point. Medieval people thought that bathing and being clean was really nice, so giving it up and living with your stank was a sign that you had given up on the corporeal world and only thought of heaven. It was holy because it was uncomfortable, like wearing a hair shirt, or eating vegan, and hitting your chest with rocks and sitting in the desert trying not to wank. You know, standard saint stuff. It is mentioned because it is uncommon and uncomfortable.

These things, while they make sense in context are often taken by people who have never learned a damn thing about the middle ages and read in the worst possible light. If you intrinsically believe (and it is a belief) that the medieval period is the Dark Ages, and very bad, then you read stuff like this and just assume people are gross and dirty, even if there’s no real evidence of that.

You know what else helps? Well, in the modern period sometimes people were gross. In both the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries, there were times when some doctors claimed that bathing was harmful. This was often linked to the idea that bathing with warm water would open the pores and allow contagion in. And here’s the thing about that – a lot of people just don’t know what the medieval period is, but they are pretty sure it is when stuff was gross. So if they hear about doctors telling you not to bathe they are like, “LOL medieval people were gross”, even if that is going down smack bang in the modern period.

Now on the one hand we can see this as a historical quibble. After all it’s not like I don’t have a history of getting big mad about someone incorrectly relating to the medieval period. But here’s the thing, allowing myths like this to perpetuate allows us to keep upholding harmful ideas about the medieval period that furthers our colonialist ideas about history, and simultaneously allows us to gloss over all the harmful and gross stuff that we as modern people do. If we always blame medieval people for everything difficult it allows us to deny their humanity and write off a thousand years of thinking and culture that still influences us now. So, like, could you not?

- Eleanor Janega, “I assure you, medieval people bathed.”

[bbugyu]

if you wanted to go to the moon, he would take you there.

plot twist | crash zoom | happy ending

16.1k (lol) | joshua x afab enby!reader, fluff, humor, suggestive, reader is ace lol, youtuber au, chef au, swearing, drinking, detailed descriptions of meals, mentions of past trauma including sexual assault, i swear it's not that deep, lots of implied sex but none on screen (yet), watching movies and playing video games, yes i am trying to set up all my friends, would anyone get it if i said r&r

welcome to part two of classic!! please enjoy this tooth rotting relationship garbo in which i basically announce to the world that i have a disgusting crush on joshua. posting this later than intended but i started working five tens so i'm 😅 a little tired lol. but joshua makes it ok <3

when you mentioned offhandedly that you had never had bibimbap in jeonju, joshua practically dropped the groceries he was helping you bring up the elevator.

"how long have you been in korea?" he asked.

you looked at him, wide eyed. "four years?"

he squinted at you, jutting his jaw out. "and you've never gone to jeonju? it's, like, the food hub of korea. how the hell?"

"i…" you laughed, exiting the elevator when the doors opened. "i don't know? it's never been top priority, i guess?"

"okay, well it is now," he stated plainly, following you to your door while you adjusted your bags in your hands to punch in the code. as soon as the groceries were safely on your counter, he pulled out his phone. "friday to sunday?"

you looked up from the vegetables in your hands. "what?"

he looked at you. "we're going. this weekend? i need to reserve the ktx tickets."

you laughed. "this weekend? joshua, it's wednesday."

"okay, next weekend?"

you stared at him a second, purely because you were in disbelief. "no, i have a demonstration next saturday."

he exhaled, looking at the calendar on his phone. "okay, and jamie's birthday party is the weekend after, so," he paused, looking at you through his lashes. "this weekend?"

you pushed your hands onto the counter and sighed heavily. "when would we leave?"

he grinned, knowing that meant he had won you over. "after i get off work? i can be here by 3:30."

"how long is the train?"

"uhh," he quickly searched for the tickets. "two hours. less than. we can buy snacks for the ride and have dinner when we get there."

you chewed your lip. "i have to edit on sunday, so we can't stay all day."

he nodded, inspecting the time table for tickets. "stay two nights, leave after breakfast?"

you considered that for a second. "i could bring my laptop and export footage on the train."

a smile crept across his face when you puffed out your cheeks in thought. "is that a yes?"

your cheeks deflated as you exhaled. "fine."

"yeah?" joshua grinned at you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and tugging you into his chest. "jeonju this weekend?"

you exhaled again, your arms reluctantly winding around his torso. "yeah. jeonju this weekend."

"you're gonna love it," he said, pressing his lips against your temple. "i helped on an article about hole in the wall finds there years ago, so i know all the good spots."

you giggled, pulling away to look at him with a quirked eyebrow. "you used to write for the magazine?"

he shook his head at you. "when i was interning."

"aw," you poked at his cheek. "intern joshie?"

he rolled his eyes, separating himself from you as you giggled, and he looked at you slyly from the corner of his eye. "joshie?"

you grinned, reaching out to pinch his cheeks. "joshie!"

he laughed and batted away your hands. "joshie?"

you: i think i'm finally packed

joshie: i don't understand why it was so difficult when we're going for Two Days.

you: 😡

joshie: 😘

as promised, he arrived at your apartment in a cab and stubbornly took your roller suitcase despite your insistence that you could handle it. joshua was always doing things like this - for you, you imagined, he would probably even lay down his jacket in a puddle so you wouldn't have to walk through it. but at the same time, he wouldn't fault you for kicking his jacket aside and purposefully jumping in it instead. he would probably join you, even.

he had joked with you that this would be like a work trip for you, but only because he was the one that suggested you film - plus, he reminded you, filming a full video this weekend meant that you didn't have to film next week. and to be perfectly frank, you wanted the break. if you could have a weekend getaway with joshua and then a week long break to have a normal routine without a camera, it was a win-win.

equipped with coffee and cafe sandwiches, you casually kicked your feet and happily sipped at your americano as you edited a picture of it for your instagram story. joshua sat beside you, also doing something on his phone, and you watched him with no intention as he pulled his airpods out of his coat jacket and offered one to you. you looked at him, smiling when he gestured with the open case again.

"i made a playlist," he said quietly as you put the airpod into your ear. he took the one you left and did the same, tapping on his phone.

the thought of joshua hearing a song and thinking of you making your chest flutter to life, the heat rising through you until you were left in a comfortable glow, smiling softly at him as a melody started in your ear. he looked back at you, double taking slightly when he realized you were looking at him.

"what's that look for?" he asked, a sideways grin breaking his face in half.

you shook your head, unable to change your face. "that's, just... really nice."

"making a playlist?" he hummed, settling back in his seat as you stuck your straw between your lips. "i didn't consciously do it. i just started a list of songs to show you because i thought you would like them, and this ended up being a good time to share it."

you sighed dramatically, falling back against the window of the train. "that's even nicer, you dickhead!" he laughed, shushing you and looking around, worried someone might have understood your slightly-above-inside-voice exclamation. "i know for a fact i didn't do anything to deserve the sweetest, handsomest, loveliest boyfriend on the planet, so what's the catch, mr. hong?"

his eyes went to the ceiling as he thought, kneading his lips once before saying, "i think you forgot funniest, too."

"ah," you said, a dry chuckle following the realization. "that's the catch."

"hey!" he laughed, eyes big as he pretended to be offended. "i know i'm funny!"

you giggled with him, mentally noting that you liked the song that he was playing. that he must have somehow picked up on why you liked the music you did. you thought about how you had the same thought, sometimes, when you were listening to music alone in your room and a song popped up on your discovery that sounded like something he would listen to. how you would immediately text them to him, knowing you would forget if you didn't send it right away, and he would react with some assortment of positive emojis. how he must have been doing the same thing, but wanted to be there when you heard them, and didn't have the same flighty memory as you. you brought your straw to your lips again, staring after him as he adjusted something in his bag, taking too long to refocus your attention to story you had been trying to post.

he later nudged you, getting your attention as you responded to an email on your phone, gesturing his finger with the melody, and you gave him a childlike look of awe, as if to tell him that yes, you agreed, this was exactly the kind of run you really enjoyed. he pounded a fist against his knee at the beats, pointing up at the key change, and you exploded into a stifled laugh, your palm covering your mouth. he laughed with you before he showed you the now playing page on his phone, holding it open dutifully as you quickly searched for it to add to your own library.

as promised, joshua provided great insight for the food tour the two of you set out on. travel day, he had told you, meant that you would have something easy - bibimbap and makgeolli at two of the best places he knew, apparently. by the time you made it back to the hotel room you had checked into before headed to the bar, you just about collapsed onto the queen bed.

"i'm so full," you exhaled, eyes dancing across the ceiling. "i'm never gonna move again."

joshua just laughed at you, toeing both of your shoes aside at the door before shuffling into slippers. "we have a full day of eating tomorrow, so you better move."

you let our a breathy laugh, rolling your head to watch as he flopped onto the bed beside you. "i'm glad you also plan trips around the meals."

he gave you a puzzled look. "is there another way to plan a trip?"

you rolled onto your side, tucking your arm under your head to look at him. "some people like sightseeing. or activities."

his brows were still ruffled in confusion as he looked away from you. "i like looking at food. and the activity of eating food."

you giggled, and his face finally broke to reveal the bewilderment had been a bit all along, his smiling laugh meeting yours.

you walked a lot the next day, and you were grateful for the light exercise to help your digestion a bit between meals. the local famous kalguksu for breakfast, a visit to a cafe for coffee before walking down a historical street together. you filmed with a smile on your face, shaking your americano for camera with a colorful background, just for you to pull down the drink and let the beautiful buildings and trees take the focus.

joshua could watch you forever, he was pretty sure. watching you conceptualise what you wanted this out of the ordinary video to look like, seeing the way you managed to be present with him, joking and giggling on your scenic walk, but squeezed his hand in warning before letting go, telling him quietly you wanted to get a shot. he had seen the way you filmed food, and how you filmed your kitchen, which was incredible in its own right, but this was the first time he got to see your process on the fly. when you went to work, as it were, taking in your scenery and deciding the way you wanted to portray it - more thought went into this than filming at the same barbeque restaurant for the fifth time, but joshua saw the similarities in the way your eyes twinkled when you saw something through your camera lens for the first time, even if only the first time that day. the way you would review the footage quickly, smiling at the way it turned out, but announcing that you were taking a second shot for safety.

then, he took you to another restaurant.

you barely noticed the passage of time, but when he conveniently "happened" upon the next stop on your food tour, you were pretty sure your stomach growled at the thought of eating an insane amount of dumplings, and you smiled at him in a way that made him want to cause it constantly.

if having your pick at dumplings was enough to make you giddy like a child, the night market was life altering. the food stalls were set up like they always were friday and saturday nights, joshua told you, and that meant you got to experience korean street food in a way you hadn't yet. you found the best pad thai you had ever eaten, succumbed to the tempting smell of grilled squid when passing a busy stall, and you even got served alcohol practically in passing, the specialty liquor being offered in a way that was hard for either of you to say no to. after a few too many, you had to stop joshua before he dragged you to a choco pie stall.

"we should eat more first," you said, gesturing to a woman making hashbrowns on a griddle. "while we have free hands. loop back around for dessert and buy some for the road."

joshua tapped his nose, then wagged his finger at you. "smart and hot."

you laughed, pulling him towards the hashbrown stall.

that night, you laid in bed beside each other, talking like you hadn't just spent literally the entire day together. recalling highlights of the day, sharing related anecdotes with assorted friends and family. you didn't even want to sleep - your body did, sure, clearly, by the way it kept interrupting your conversation with yawns. joshua would laugh, then yawn in response, and tell you that you should sleep. you would shake your head, a pout on your lips, and he would just smile and keep talking about whatever the yawn had interrupted.

being in bed with joshua wasn't demanding, nor was it uncomfortable, and you were pretty sure that meant something good.

you were making curry. he had mentioned that it looked good while you were watching some show the week prior and you couldn't get it out of your head. so, even though it was midsummer and far too warm for something as hearty as japanese curry, you decided you needed to make it anyway, if only for your own peace of mind. you invited joshua over to cook dinner for him, and he asked where your camera was when he arrived with your requested potatoes (you had some, except they were older than you thought and started sprouting), but you told him you weren't filming tonight.

"this ones for us," you said matter of factly, giggling when he looked shocked. "i don't film every meal, y'know. sometimes i cook things just for me."

he watched you dump the potatoes into the sink to wash. "what if it ends up being really pretty?"

"josh," you said, looking at him. "i don't make things that aren't pretty."

he asked if you needed help with anything, but you just shook your head and told him to relax. that you had made this a million times, and that you could do it with your eyes closed. he asked again if you were sure, and you laughed, scrubbing potatoes and using your shoulder to get your hair out of your face.

"actually," you said, raising the wrist on which you kept a hair tie. "do you know how? my hands are wet."

joshua smiled and nodded, coming over and pulling the tie off your wrist, careful to not get it too wet on your hand. "how high?"

"ariana," you said, making him laugh as you giggled. "as high as you can manage, but i don't really care."

he just smiled, taking your hair in his hands as you washed the potatoes one by one, and you tried to ignore the way you heart skipped a beat when you felt his touch drift across the back of your neck. he gently gathered it all in one palm at the crown of your skull, brushing through it with his fingers. "here?"

"perfect," you said, chewing your cheek and smiling. he pulled the band over your hair, tying it off tightly and pulled at the hair gently to keep it in place.

his hands glided over your waist, leading his arms to wrap around you as his chin landed on your shoulder. "not too tight?"

you shook your head, smiling. "you're multi talented."

"i have a sister," he reminded you, then put a kiss on your cheek.

you managed to convince him to sit at the counter, and he smiled and laughed with you as you conversed about anything that came to mind. he talked about his latest work antics, and you told him about a café you found the day before that you really enjoyed. he watched you skillfully chop vegetables and prepare chicken, flitting around your kitchen with a familiarity that could only be fostered by time. he glanced at the time on his phone, then looked at the door behind him that led to a bedroom.

"is karol here?" he asked. she normally would have emerged to say hi by now.

you looked at him before going back to pan frying the chicken. "no, she's in busan this weekend with some friends. she'll be back sunday night."

an alarm went off in joshua's head, and he tried not to think too deeply about the fact that you had invited him over while your roommate was away. sex hadn't even been a discussion on the table yet, but not because joshua didn't want it - because, frankly, he wanted it - he was just more concerned about you and your wants. for most things, he felt as though he had learned your thoughts and opinions naturally over the last few months, but outside of a few passing jokes, you hadn't ever mentioned how you felt about sex in general, much less sex with him.

so he stared at you, suddenly unable to ignore the fact that you were wearing shorts because of the weather, but they were hidden under the hem of the neutral toned apron he saw in your videos every week. or the way you smiled at him as you talked, your eyes glinting with mischief when you made a joke at his expense, but only made him laugh and want you more. he stood and came around the island, standing with his hip against the counter as the two of you continued conversing and you added the roux cubes to the pot.

his eyes never left you or your actions, and you noticed the way he inched towards you as your cooking became less involved and began to wrap up. you didn't argue when he put his arms around you again, watching you stir the curry with his cheek against your ear. he wasn't in your way, not even when you reached over to pull a spoon out of a drawer to give it a taste and make sure the seasonings were right, so you instead just enjoyed his presence.

you hummed, licking your lips briefly as you appraised the flavor. "not bad," you said, using the ladle you had been cooking with to pour more into the spoon you had just used to taste. you blew on it, then displayed it for joshua, who looked at you in his peripherals before accepting the bite.

"oh, wow," he said, making you giggle as you put the spoon aside. "that's better than a restaurant."

"thanks," you said, tapping the ladle on the side of pot to get the excess back in the pot, a spot of sauce landing on the back of your hand. you put it on the spoon rest next to your stovetop and replaced the lid on the pot of curry, quickly turning the burner to low. "now we just wait for the rice to pop," you said, spinning in his grip and licking the spot off the back of your hand.

joshua stared at you, desperately wishing in that moment that he wasn't such a damn man, because it was clear in your eyes that it was a completely innocent action. you got some of the delicious sauce on your hand, so why would you wipe it off when a towel wouldn't appreciate it like your tongue would? you wouldn't, obviously. he wouldn't have, either, if it had been his hand. but here he was, gaze fixed on your mouth as you pulled your hand away from it, and one of your eyebrows raised when you noticed.

"can i help you?" you asked, glancing down at his lips when he involuntarily leaned into you.

"i-" he swallowed. "sorry, i'm just-"

in that moment, you registered what his gaze meant. and while you were fairly oblivious to most things, you were far from innocent, so you put your arms over his shoulders and knit your fingers in his hair. "you're just?" you prompted.

there was a chuckle on his lips as he backed you against the counter, and he shook his head lightly. "i just think it's insane how into you i am."

joshua had this way of kissing you that made you think his life depended on it. he kissed you like you were in the final scene of an apocalyptic movie and he had come to terms with the fact that this was the end. like he knew that if your lips left his, he would magically disappear before he could tell you how much you meant to him. like he could stop time as long as he had you pressed against him with his hand on your jaw, but the sun was setting and he wasn’t ready to say good night.

when he finally pulled away from you, you were trying to catch your breath as his hands ran down your waist, and you stared into his eyes. his lips were parted, and his fingers gripped at your hips in a way that you knew meant he wished there were less layers between your skin.

your mind raced, thinking quickly back to how long the two of you had been seeing each other. how long you had known that you were interested in keeping joshua around for the long term. you wracked your brain, thinking about when people normally took the next step at your age, finding a discrepancy in the timing. you had made him wait for so long, but this was the first time you had noticed him trying to bed you - though, this was hardly subtle, so perhaps you had missed signs earlier? hell, the two of you had even shared a bed at this point, but you were pretty sure he hadn't tried anything then, either. you considered the fact that this relationship had gone for over two months without so much as a hint to take the next logical step, and you decided that joshua was definitely the only guy you had met in years that you would be willing to allow under your covers.

"the curry can sit for," you started, blinking rapidly as your mouth caught up to your mind. you swallowed once. "well, until tomorrow, technically, but-"

joshua's lip quirked upward. "did you invite me over to have me stay the night?"

"not-" you exhaled. his tone was slightly accusatory, but only playfully, and you found yourself more flustered by the question than you would have liked. "not consciously, but…" your eyes studied his face. "do you want to?"

"are you kidding?" he asked, making you breathe out a laugh, his forehead landing on yours. "did you not hear me when i said i was insanely into you?"

the rice cooker beeped, drawing both of your attention as it sang out a small tune to alert you it was finished. you looked at joshua. "are you hungry?"

he looked back at you, a smile sneaking on his lips. "i mean, working up an appetite wouldn't hurt, right?"

he let you lead him to your bedroom, which he had only been in once, briefly, when he had helped you put some lights away. the two of you admittedly spent most of your time in kitchens or restaurants, the remainder of your alone time being split between joshua's car and a couch to watch a movie, but joshua thought your taste suited his as he glanced around again, and that he would happily lose time in bedrooms with you. you kissed him again, and he was quick to pull you against his body, leaning into you, making you giggle as you bent backwards at the hips. "josh."

"what?" he asked, giving you a half lidded smile as his hand found your jaw, pulling you back into him. "stop leaning back and i'll stop chasing you."

"i'm-" you giggled into the kiss he interrupted you with. "i'm not leaning back, you're pushing me."

joshua made you feel like you were out of your depth, but in a way that was more exciting than scary. it had been ages since someone had been able to surprise you, or had helped you surprise yourself, but today he was doing both. the last time you had let a man into your heart, it had been less than perfect, especially towards the end, but joshua felt like home. cozy. he made you feel safe. like he wouldn't let you fall backwards unless your mattress was waiting for you.

and when you fell, he crawled over you, connecting your lips again with a hand against your jaw, the other holding himself above you, and you tried to restrain a whine.

"josh," you said suddenly, pushing on his chest lightly, processing fully what was about to happen and a shot of anxiety running through your chest. "c-can i tell you something first?"

joshua paused his motions, studying your eyes, his expression skewing scared. "oh, shit, are you a virgin?"

"what?" your eyebrows creased, a laugh on your lips. "no, what the fuck, josh? i'm in my mid-twenties."

he blinked at you. "there would be nothing wrong with you if you were a virgin in your mid-twenties."

"i'm not a virgin, joshua."

"right," he shook his head slightly. "sorry, i don't know. what were you saying?"

you chewed at your cheek nervously. "i just. i haven't… been with a guy in a really long time."

his eyes examined your face, looking for a hint at what you meant, because if it was only what you were saying, he didn't understand why you were so worried. "okay?"

"like, really long," you reiterated.

"baby, i promise," he said, forehead against yours. "i promise you, i don't care."

you exhaled sharply, wishing you could just enjoy things normal people did. that you knew what people wanted out of these encounters innately, instead of having to overthink them. "like, i don't want to… i don't know. disappoint you."

"disappoint me?" his head bobbed backwards in shock. "how the hell could i ever be disappointed when you're you?"

your eyes shut, grateful that he could still make you smile when you felt so out of your league. "i just mean that i-" you paused, trying to figure out how much you were willing to say, and how much you could without ruining whatever mood had been fostered here. "i just don't really do this. like, i feel like i don't know how."

"baby," he said, pressing his lips to yours briefly. "honey, sweetie, darling," he continued, punctuating each name with quick pecks. "you could starfish and i would have the time of my life."

you laughed, a hand landing on his shoulder sharply as he smiled at you. "okay, i'm not that bad, jesus."

"i'm telling you," he assured. "i don't care. i don't care if it's been months or years or forever, i don't care." he paused, appraising your expression. "we don't have to do anything. i'd be happy to just kiss you for an hour and a half if you're not ready."

"no," you whined, crinkling your nose. "it's not that, i just…" you took a breath. "i might just need you to take it a little slow."

"well, baby, you're in luck," he said, giving you a teasing smirk as his lips closed in on yours again. "slow and steady is exactly how i want you."

karol had said you hated men. she hadn't been wrong. you hated a lot of men, and how they made you feel like a prisoner in your own body. you hated the men you had encountered in your past, who made you feel small and weak. ugly and only wanted for one purpose, disrespecting your boundaries, your presentation, and your being. you hated those men, and nothing would ever redeem them for you.

joshua was different, though. he wasn't like them, because even though you didn't say explicitly why you needed a little extra care, he was more than prepared to give it to you. without even needing specific direction, he paid special attention to your reactions. to your body. he waited until you were ready, and asking him for more. and even when he sheepishly admitted that he'd started carrying a condom in his wallet the month prior, you could only giggle and silently be overwhelmingly thankful that he was truly nothing like any man you had ever been with before.

you swore you had made the same recipe you always did, but your curry tasted sweeter than you remembered. maybe it was just that you were eating it in your underwear with a man that made you feel comfortable in your skin for the first time in forever, a home improvement show remaining unwatched on your tv as the two of you joked together.

joshua woke the next morning in your empty bed, and was only confused for a second as he looked around your white walls. he stretched once, then sat up, eyes meandering over your orange patterned rug (one he remembered describing as "groovy" when he had first seen it, which had made you laugh in that way he adored), then noticed your laptop had been turned on. it was saturday, he realized, and you were likely going to edit today so you wouldn't have to tomorrow. he decidedly did not peek, though he wanted to, and peeked out your bedroom door instead.

you were easy to find, standing in your kitchen with an oversized shirt on and your hair pulled out of your face as you formed rice balls. you looked up from your work, smiling when you saw him, placing the triangle of rice you had just made on the cutting board. "good morning!"

it was, he thought. it was a really good morning.

you teased him for hugging you in your kitchen while he was only wearing underwear, saying that he seemed to have made himself comfortable quickly. he just playfully ran his hands under your shirt, saying, well, what about you, then? making breakfast with no pants on?

"i live here," you said, giggling and using your hip to bump him away. "i pay rent. what do you do?"

his eyes darted away from yours as he thought. "sit still, look pretty?"

that made you laugh. "you are very pretty."

he grinned, taking the opportunity to pull you into his chest again. "you, too."

he looked at what you had made, noticing the pot on the stove for the first time.

"soybean paste soup," you said, reacting to his gaze, then pointed at the neat triangles of brown tinted rice in front of you. "mushroom riceballs, and i'm making tamagoyaki next."

joshua blinked at you after processing everything. "do you do this every morning?"

"not every morning," you giggled. "but i wanted to today."

weeks later, you were biting your pinky nail to oblivion as you scrolled through comments on the video you had posted earlier that morning. you were sitting on the couch in joshua's living room, your laptop perched on the arm and your boyfriend fixing something to eat before the two of you sat to watch a movie. you had made a risky move in your video - one you thought would have been fine, but clearly people read more into it than you expected. joshua came over for dinner earlier in the week, when you had made pasta with all the delicious fresh seafood the two of you had found at a market the day before, accompanied by a simple salad and white wine. karol was working late, so you had set some aside for her, but that meant it was just you and joshua in frame when you filmed your usual table setting shot.

people were speculating.

you knew it was inevitable, and a few comments had pointed out the man that had eaten sushi with you in the vlog that included your first date, but at this point, the comments were flooded with questions and hypotheses on who the mystery man could be. most assumed boyfriend - which, while true, made you feel slightly annoyed - and a few wondered if he was your brother, or close friend, but they all noticed that his hands and voice had become regular guest stars on your channel. that, while you still got meals with krys and karol, this nameless, faceless man sat opposite you more often than anyone else.

the jeonju vlog is what sparked the most comments. people suspected some amount of intimacy when they realized this guy was travelling with you, too, and you probably would have thought the same if it had been someone you watched regularly. you had been careful with the editing, only including clips with food and the scenery shots that didn't star him (while you had filmed a lot that did, those were just for your own personal record), but you supposed it was in peoples' nature to try and find a romantic plotline in your slice of life.

"josh?" you said suddenly, pulling your pinky from between your teeth. you heard his vague noise of acknowledgment and spun around on the couch to watch as he cocked his head at you from the kitchen. "should we go public?"

"uh," he paused, looking at the scallion pancake he was cooking, quickly grabbing the panhandle to flip it. "give me, like, two minutes and we can discuss? i'm almost done in here."

you puffed your cheeks out and nodded, turning back towards your computer. "okay, baby."

when joshua came into the living room, the spread he had quickly put together across a tray you had bought for him (because you wanted it, mostly, but karol would kill you if you brought more home), he put it on the coffee table and sat next to you, quickly addressing the subject again.

"people keep," you paused. his eyebrows raised, prompting you, but he only chewed on his bottom lip to let you take your time as you hugged your knees to your chest. "people keep assuming you're my boyfriend anyways, so i'm just thinking-" you exhaled sharply. "should we just say fuck it? just confirm that we're a couple?"

joshua studied you. "you've always been pretty private."

you chewed your cheek, putting your lips against your knees. "that's on purpose."

"you don't have to say anything you don't want to," he reminded you, rubbing a hand against your back. you put your chin on your knees and gave him your biggest doe eyes, making him smile. "they can speculate all they want, but you don't owe them an explanation."

you nodded lightly as you hugged your legs and looked around, briefly studying the tray joshua had brought over. he had quickly stirfried some vegetables, grilled the frozen pork belly slices he always kept on hand, and even cooked your favorite premade scallion pancakes, the spread complete with several side dishes you had made together earlier in the week and two bowls of rice. your brows knit together, fingers itching to film how neatly he had put together a light meal for the two of you because you had said you wanted to show him your favorite movie without interruption, and he knew you would be hungry soon.

"would you-" you cleared your throat, looking up from the food and finding his eyes. "what do you think i should do?"

he let out a breathy laugh. "does it matter? you'll do what you want anyways."

you whined, pushing his shoulder as your feet dropped from the couch. "i'm serious, your opinion matters here. would you be okay with being public?"

"you're joking, right?" he laughed, adjusting his posture, and grabbing your hand to folding it between his. "baby, you know i care about you, right?"

your lips pursed as you nodded, looking between his eyes shyly.

"and you know i would never try to say that i, like, own you, right? like, i don't claim ownership over you as a person."

you let out a short laugh. "right."

he held your hand tighter. "i want to tell every viewer of every single one of your videos that you are mine."

your cheek puffed out as you smiled. "really?"

"especially the reply guys, oh my gosh," he rolled his eyes, making you laugh. "there's a place i think you'd like! i could take you, smiley face. yeah, get lost, creep. move along."

your palm landed on your cheek as you laughed. "shut up, are you serious?"

"you don't see those?" his eyes wide when you shook your head. "baby, there's so many people trying to take you out in the comments. so many."

you giggled, pressing your lips together. "well, there's only one guy that gets to."

"that's right," joshua said, a proud look on his face. "the ultimate reply guy fanboy."

you pushed his chest, laughing again. "shut up."

you decided an faq would do, but in the style of your regular videos. you definitely didn't want to just sit down in front of your camera and talk through questions and answers - that wasn't your style, and would feel wrong uploading. so instead, you spent a few hours compiling questions you had been asked often and organized them in a way that made sense, planning on showing your daily life. questions like what camera you used, what your go-to quick breakfast is, where you bought the clothes you liked - it was easy to plan them out to create a vague storyline of your standard day. you woke up on a wednesday (a day you went to the studio, because many of your questions were about what goes on there), excited to film but slightly nervous. as you set up your camera for breakfast, your phone buzzed on the counter.

joshie: good morning, baby! you got this! can't wait to see you tonight 🥰

you: 🥺🥺🥺 thank you!

the day went well, filming your planned clips on the subway and at the studio, and when your coworker asked what all the questions you were filming for were, you sighed.

"normal stuff," you said quickly, taking off your apron after several hours of cooking and shooting. "favorite recipes, what equipment i use… y'know."

yunhyeong nodded at you, his eyes squinting slightly. "is that all?"

he knew you. he knew how you reacted when you were nervous. how you could practically hide it from anyone, but that certain subjects would always make your eyes look slightly panicked and your speech speed up. the worst part is that you knew he knew, and your facade was almost immediately broken.

"and if i have a boyfriend."

he stared at you for a second before he laughed in disbelief. it took him over a week of bugging you about the guy in your videos before you admitted you were seeing someone, and even then, you only did because joshua had started picking you up from the studio and - against your wishes - introduced himself to your coworkers. yunhyeong thought about how protective you were of your privacy, and how you had never revealed something as personal as a relationship online before - partly because none of the people you had gone on two or three dates with had been serious enough to reveal, but he mostly thought about how you barely even showed your own face. that you stayed mostly silent when you filmed, and if you had to speak, it was a voice that was only adjacent to your usual cadence, as if you were trying to create another barrier between you and your online persona. how you had mourned your grandfather's passing and uploaded your vlog like normal two days later, but called out of work for the week following.

"and you're telling the truth?"

you exhaled, wiping down the stove top now that it had cooled. "yeah, shua and i discussed it. people are speculating, anyways, and it's not like he's going anywhere any time soon."

yunhyeong nodded again, organizing the spices as he put them away. "i'm happy for you."

you looked at him. "what do you mean?"

"it's a big step," he said, purposefully keeping his eyes from you so you didn't get self conscious. "you haven't been this serious about someone the entire time i've known you. i think it's really great that you found someone you care about."

you watched him spin bottles to be label out as you considered his words. "thanks."

he peeked at you, smiling. "of course."

yunhyeong's words rattled in your mind as you walked to the restaurant joshua had agreed to meet you at, filming your feet as you went with the intention of answering a few random questions with on-screen text in the edit. someone you care about.

you thought about how joshua had said the same thing about you when you had asked if going public was something he would be comfortable with. the way it has made your heart flutter. you wondered, briefly, if perhaps this was something more than just caring.

when you were editing the video that saturday, you procrastinated on the last question as long as you could, and when it was the only thing left to do, you escaped to the kitchen to make lunch in favor of finishing the part that was haunting you. your bagel sandwich was delicious, but you could barely enjoy it, mind clouded by the task that made your anxiety peak for seemingly no good reason.

it took you too long to finish it.

when you showed it to joshua, wanting his blessing before you uploaded, he couldn't hide his giddy reaction.

"it's okay?" you confirmed, studying his face.

he nodded at you, lips pushed together into a lopsided smile. "it's really cute."

"cute?" you asked, clicking through the video. "that's good, right?"

"yes," he laughed, squeezing your shoulder to put a kiss on your head. "it's great. post it."

so you did. and while you had gotten a tiny bump when krys excitedly dragged the two of you onto her stream that afternoon, you had no way of predicting the way the rest of the internet picked it up a few weeks later.

"r/relationshipgoals," jeonghan read off his phone, leaning against your kitchen island along with several of your friends that had come over when they saw the two of you on their newsfeeds unprompted. "'cross post from r/cutecouples, the most heartwarming boyfriend reveal you'll see this year.'"

"twitter, too," karol announced looking up from her own phone, seated in a barstool beside him. "you're a twitter moment. people found the clip from krys' stream, even."

you were on the counter opposite them, kicking your feet nervously to the beat in your head as you chewed your lip. you sighed and covered your face. "how long is this gonna last?"

"a while, hopefully," krys said, turning your laptop screen towards you. "your subcounts are insane right now."

you whined into your hands, making joshua appear at your side to put a hand on your spine. you took a breath at the touch, relaxing your tensed thighs on the counter. "it's okay to be nervous," he muttered at you. "but it's also kinda exciting, right?"

you exhaled deeply, letting your hands fall and your eyes trail to his before a smile broke on your face. "kinda."

so after you calmed yourself down, you managed to go through some of the posts about you, and you surprised yourself by letting them put a smile on your face. even the idea of having a public relationship had scared you shitless less than a month prior, but this… this wasn't so bad. seeing twitter repost the same video of you filming your feet as you walked into a restaurant, panning the camera up to reveal joshua sitting at a table and waving excitedly at you. the cuts you made to show clips that had landed on the cutting room floor of past videos - the footage you had taken of him pointing out the new wok you had started using a few weeks prior in a kitchen specialty store, and the goofy face he revealed after holding it in front of himself as he brought it back to you. the video of joshua grasping your hand, panning up to his playfully serious face as he dragged you down a boardwalk in jeonju, gesturing to the sunset. the unedited audio from your first date, when you had said something about it looking really good, and he had said something along the lines of how it would have been a waste if you hadn't recorded, and the two of you giggled together in a way that nervous new couples did. short bits of you swinging your camera around to reveal a laughing joshua as you tried to film quiet shots. a clip of him wearing a triangular menu on his head like a hat, acting as though it was completely normal.

you had a hard time believing anything you ever did would be viral-worthy, but even you had to admit, this was a pretty understandable thing for you to go viral for.

besides, it felt like it made sense for this to be the one thing about your personal life that ended up getting attention. it felt like he was an innate part of you at this point, and that you wouldn't be honest if you hid him.

it was august when he broke your heart.

"how could you?" you asked him, staring in disbelief. "you haven't seen lord of the rings?"

"okay, i lied," joshua said, still washing the dishes. "i saw them when i was a kid, but i don't remember them really."

"well, we're fixing that."

he looked at where you were sitting on his kitchen island - a well known habit of yours at this point. "today?"

"not today," you said, poking your toe at his hip. "this weekend, maybe? if we start now, we'll be watching til you go to work tomorrow morning."

he shut off the faucet and gingerly placed the pan he had just washed on the drying rack. "how many movies is it? i thought it was just three."

"it is," you said, laughing at his shocked look. "the extended editions are around four hours each."

joshua exhaled, leaning against the counter as he used a cloth to dry his hands. "you're lucky i like wasting hours with you."

you grinned, hopping down from your seat. "you're lucky i let you."

and that weekend, the two of you did just that - waste time, ordering delivery food for two meals as you camped out on the couch in various positions as the two of you got comfortable repeatedly. you couldn't help but recite specific lines, mouthing along with every word gandalf said like you had thought of the words yourself. you pointed out behind the scenes facts along the way, even, excitedly saying viggo broke two toes when he kicked that helmet, or how faramir's flames were a mirror trick. joshua watched you, because while he knew it was your favorite movie and he really should pay attention, he couldn't help but get distracted by his own favorite movie, and it starred you getting excited about something you loved.

you slept later than joshua that sunday, and when you emerged from the bedroom, you spotted krys sitting at the island with a plate of waffles in front of her, then found joshua leaned against the counter with a cup of coffee. he smiled when he saw you.

"i made breakfast," he said, gesturing to the counter.

you looked around at the spread as you walked over to him. waffles, fruit, bacon, and the promise of a fried egg upon request - a spread worthy of your own brunching standards. "what about second breakfast?" you asked quietly, in accented english.

joshua laughed, his arm wrapping around your midsection as you came over to kiss him good morning. "elevensies?" he shot back, in the same vague accent.

you broke your serious face to giggle. "luncheon?"

"alright," krys said, voice raised in annoyance when the two of you looked over at her. "i get it, y'all are in love or whatever, but can you have some respect for those of us who are lonely?"

you rolled your eyes, laughing at the fact that she had absolutely brought this upon herself by forcing the two of you together every chance she got, but joshua went cold when he heard her say the thing he had been thinking for a while, but was too scared to say out loud. the thing he felt when you grabbed his arm and told him that if he wouldn't let you carry the ring, then you could at least carry him with all the same dramatics as one samwise gamgee did. when you cried as frodo and bilbo sailed into the sunset for good, even though you had seen it a million times over. the sneaking thought that he was in love with you, but didn't know how to say so. he swallowed down the thought, shaking his head when you raised a questioning brow at him as you dished up a plate of waffles and fruit.

it didn't take you long to trust joshua enough to give him your door code so he could let himself in, but it took him a while to actually use it. he said something about not wanting to intrude, but you told him it was more intrusive to make you come to the door when you could possibly be doing important things and he was completely capable of getting in on his own.

"babe?"

you hissed. you had the thought right before you started this boss battle, that he would arrive before you finished and you would be trapped at your computer. you were right. "in here! gimme like two minutes!"

you heard him enter your room, and his bubbly laugh when he spotted your back at your desk desperately clicking your mouse and striking your keyboard. "wow, is this what you meant by important things?"

"please, please, please," you whined, intermittently squealing as you reacted to the enemy attacks. "i'll get off in a second i just need one more cleansing heart to ascend xin- fuck! not the stupid birds!"

he laughed again, his hand finding the back of your shoulder, thumbs pressing into the constantly sore flesh. you winced as he kneaded his fingers into your shoulder but exhaled, making him laugh lightly when you got knocked over by a boar. "hey, there's a boar there."

"yes, thank you, joshua." you quickly cracked a knuckle as soon as you had down time, sticking your neck out as he continued to massage your shoulders. "i think i have two more waves."

"waves? because it's a water level?"

you groaned into a reluctant laugh. "no shitty jokes right now, i'm trying to focus. normally krys and i co-op this one but she was busy."

he hummed, moving to stand next to you with his hand resting at the base of your neck. "wonder what she was doing."

"don't you live with her?" you teasingly asked, glancing up at him for the first time while sprinting across the platform, your game camera spinning uncontrollably when you suddenly pulled both hands to your mouth and gasped. "what the fuck, joshua?"

he stifled a grin, but it was completely obvious in his eyes as you stared up at him, blonde hair curled lightly to stay out of his face. "what's up?"

you stood from your chair, inspecting his head. "what the fuck?"

he laughed, wrapping his arms around you when you ran your fingers through his bleached locks hesitantly. "do you hate it?"

"i-" you blinked at him repeatedly. "what? no, i don't hate- what the fuck, joshua?"

"what?" he whined, eyebrows tenting at you even though his lips were still smiling. "does it not suit me?"

you held his head and squinted at him. "josh, you're hot. you look hot. but what the fuck?"

he laughed, finally planting his hello kiss on your lips. he watched the gears turn behind your eyes, puckered lips becoming a pout.

"did you go to a salon?"

he grinned. "krys did it."

you made a fist at him, scrunching your face for a second as you exhaled, looking down at the screen right as your last team member died, respawning at a statue. "that's why she used so many smiley faces when she said she was busy."

he put his lips to your cheek, smiling into your skin. "not bad though, right? you got a pretty handsome boyfriend."

and while you would have loved to roll your eyes and tease him, you were overtaken by a giggle as you turned your head towards him again, the tip of his nose gliding across your cheek. "yeah, i do."

his eyebrows went up. "wow, wasn't expecting you to admit it so readily."

you laughed, a light, carefree laugh, your palms on his jaw as you kissed him. "i have eyes, joshua." he just smiled against your lips, lacing his fingers together behind your tailbone, and you pulled away slightly to look up at his hair again. your hands went to his nape, fingertips against his scalp. "how long did it take? you have thick hair."

"we did three sessions," he said. "enjoy it while you can, it might fall out."

you laughed with him, brushing your fingers gently in his bangs again. "it feels fine, though?"

"yeah, i made this incredible discovery that i'm almost positive i'm the first to hear about it. it's called a hair treatment."

you batted at his chest, giggling. "shut up."

"make me," he said, the sweet smile on his lips making the phrase more playful than suggestive.

"i can't believe you surprised me with bleached hair," you said, plopping into your seat and exiting the game. "you know i hate surprises, right?"

"that's too bad," he said, his hand returning to rub against your neck. "i like surprises a lot. get used to them."

you puffed out your cheeks, sighing slowly. "usually people compromise."

"not on this," he stated. "i'm a gift giver."

"yeah, i figured that out when you got flowers sent to the studio on our one month anniversary, then again on our second, then here on our third…"

he was just smiling smugly at you when you stood again, maneuvering around him. "and you love getting them?"

you rolled your eyes, not even commenting when he playfully patted your butt as you went by. "they're always tasteful and it's nice to have some seasonal flowers for the counter."

"so you love them," he repeated. "because it sounds to me like you love them."

you laughed, reaching out to catch his hand in yours and pull him along with you as you exited to the main living area. "and what if i do? so what, joshua hong, if it makes my heart beat a little fast when we suddenly get flowers delivered and i realize it's the fourteenth? are you gonna call me a hypocrite because i vocally advocate that traditional chivalry is bullshit?"

he just listened to your playful accusation, more proving that you were self aware rather than egging him on. "no way," he said plainly. "you can still think traditional chivalry is bullshit, it won't stop me from trying to make you smile."

you felt your face heating up, your jaw dropping slightly to let out an annoyed huff. "cheesy, joshua. i'm offended."

"want me to make it worse?" he asked, wrapping his arms around your waist.

your hands landed on his chest as you squinted at his grin. "i'm scared."

he gave you a crooked grin. "happy one hundred days. i brought sushi."

your head whipped over to the counter, spotting the paper bag with a familiar logo. "from nori table?"

"of course, from nori table."

joshua had promised jeonghan that you would make an appearance as a couple at a party he was throwing the next day, and you found yourself almost nervous. you got on with jeonghan famously - almost enough to drive joshua insane - and you even warmed up to seokmin pretty quickly, but from what you had been told, jeonghan enjoyed partying, and you didn't really like getting drunk.

"you made it!" seokmin grinned big, spreading his arms to signal for you to let him wrap you in a hug. you laughed and greeted him, enjoying the friendly comfort, then watching him hug joshua after he let you go. "and you're blonde! life's good?"

"yeah," joshua said, making eye contact with you briefly as his fingers tangled with yours. "life's good. you?"

seokmin blinked before he said "yeah, good!" and your brow knit slightly before you consciously adjusted your face to hide the analysis of his hesitation happening behind your eyes. "this is your first time here, right?"

you nodded, smiling and following him as he led you into the crowded apartment. "yeah, it's been busy lately. but i finally made it to one!"

"well, you need to meet my friends," he said, continuously looking back at you even as he walked ahead, towards a corner of the living room. "you're gonna love them."

"aye, josh!"

you looked to the source of the call, spotting the guy pulling himself to his feet from his seat on the couch, arms wide in greeting to your boyfriend.

"hey, hosh," joshua said, a sideways grin on and his brows tented as he gave him a quick handshake into a hug. quickly, he put a hand on your opposite shoulder, pulling you towards him and quickly introducing you.

soonyoung initially went in for a hug after your introduction, but immediately noticed the way your eyes widened slightly and instantly pulled his arms down, leaving a hand extended for you to shake. you laughed, taking it, and apologized for not being a hugger.

"no worries," soonyoung laughed, and you wondered if he was always this pink in the face or if he had already started drinking. "seokmin will hug me, right?"

"everyone!" seokmin ignored him, pulling you towards the people gathered on and around the couch. he announced you to his friends then quickly went down the line - soonyoung, seungkwan, jihoon, dongmin, yugyeom - you repeated the names back to him like you would remember all of them, even though you knew you wouldn't unless they became regulars in your life, too.

jeonghan flitted by and expressed his greetings to you both some time later, intending to abscond with joshua for drinks and conversation elsewhere, but he stopped jeonghan from pulling him away before he put a hand on your elbow, looking at you meaningfully.

"i'll be okay," you told him, smiling. "go ahead."

he squinted at you. "you sure?"

"seokmin's here," you reminded him, nodding your head at the boy you had practically adopted as your own brother. "real quick, about soonyoung-"

he quirked an eyebrow at you. "what about him?"

you chewed your lip, smiling. "karol's been a little too focused on work lately, right?"

his eyes widened, thinking about your roommate. his eyes went to the man you had referenced, who was currently chanting something into seungkwan's face as he rolled his eyes. "karol?"

"what do you think?" you asked, looking back at soonyoung.

he blinked. "i think he'll drive her insane."

your eyes shone at him. "i think she'll love it."

he laughed incredulously, registering that you had asked his opinion instead of just doing whatever pleased you, and he wondered if that meant you trusted him. "you're right," he said finally. "try it."

"of course i'm right," you said, giggling against the quick peck he put on your lips. "remove him, jeonghan."

"finally," an impatient host shot back, rolling his eyes in a way that landed in a sly smile at you. "for what it's worth, i think your plan will work."

"didn't need your approval, but i'll take it," you said, smiling smugly at him. "i'll update you later."

the update you gave the next time you saw him, weeks later, was that karol had left the apartment every week since to go be with soonyoung somewhere fun and exciting, and you waved her off with a shiteating grin every week, culminating in the two of them arriving to krys' birthday party hand in hand.

jeonghan laughed, stealing a carrot stick from your cutting board as you arranged them into a rainbow themed charcuterie platter. "knew it. soonyoung loves women stronger than him."

you looked at him as he took a bite. "and karol loves someone she can take care of."

"look at us," he said, waving the half eaten carrot between the two of you with a lopsided grin on his face. "what a duo. we should hang out more. fuck joshua."

you laughed at him, then at the offended look on your boyfriend's face as he walked past. "now?" you asked eyebrows raised as you looked at him expectantly, and he laughed when he realized what the last words out of jeonghan's mouth were seconds before.

"please, this is a child's birthday party," he reminded you, and you laughed at the overexaggerated look he gave you to sell the joke.

you looked over to where krys was laughing with seokmin, soonyoung, and karol, then back down to your work as you nudged around quartered figs with a vague smile on. "seems like the kids are having a nice time."

jeonghan sighed, falling dramatically against the counter. "oh, to be young and in love."

joshua laughed. "karol's our age."

his cheek was planted in his palm, elbow on the counter as he gazed after the group. "i'm talking about seokmin and krys."

"what?" joshua asked, voice nearly cracking, and you let out an explosive laugh. "seokmin and who?"

"stop acting stupid," jeonghan waved ahand at him, then popping his eyes up to catch your look of solidarity. he pointed at you. "see? we're on the same page, which means we're right."

joshua looked at you and you raised your hands in surrender. "are you serious?" he asked. "my sister and-"

you landed a hand on his face, effectively shutting him up as you giggled. "shush, josh. just leave it, okay?"

"good idea," jeonghan sighed, straightening and picking up the platter you had finished. "dining table?"

"please," you responded, looking back and giggling when joshua looked just as dumbfounded as he had before you looked away. "she's an adult. seokmin's a good guy. let it happen."

he closed his mouth, stealing a glance at his sister. "he is a kindergarten teacher."

"and both your best friend and your partner love him," you reminded him. "she could do worse."

he gave you a look. "she has done worse."

"shut up," you said, pushing his shoulder in your friend's defense. "you've done pretty bad, too."

his eyes went to the ceiling, remembering the accidental altercation you had been forced to have with one of his more regrettable exes. "how many times do i have to apologize-"

"you don't," you laughed, putting your hands on his cheeks and focusing his eyes on yours. "but krys is an adult. she's allowed to judge her own partners, and even if she ends up being wrong, she's old enough to make her own mistakes."

joshua huffed, knowing you were right but not wanting to admit it. "sorry i'm trying to protect my one and only baby sister."

"yes, and you're adorable," you assured him. "best big brother ever. but it's her birthday, and if you don't start getting drunk soon, she'll be very upset."

drinking with joshua was fun. because he wasn't much different than yourself - he didn't get crazy, he didn't get loud. he just got loose. he let stupider jokes out, and he was more willing to join in on krys' performative comedy bits throughout the night. you found yourself falling onto a couch with him, giggling as he caught his breath after a particularly involved musical number.

the most fun you had drinking with joshua was in itaewon, long past midnight but still what you considered halloween. you had been dragging karol with you for years, but now you had a boyfriend, and she had a boyfriend, and you both had a new joint best friend, so it only made sense for you to get them all take the train ride out to your favorite part of seoul.

ratatouille. that was the only way you could get joshua to go with you. he wanted a couples costume and he wanted you to be the rat.

"this feels backhanded," you told him.

"do you want to be linguine?" he asked. "i can be sexy remy. i can find grey hot pants, but you have to be the one to attach the the tail because i have no idea what my butt looks like."

you laughed, resigning to your fate and buying the outfit online, then looked at him suddenly. "liar. i know you check yourself out at the gym."

"okay," he said, eyes on the ceiling as he herded a giggling you into his arms. "then… i want it to be accurate, so you need to attach it directly at my tailbone." he cocked his head at you after you settled into the hug. "i have to be wearing them, obviously."

"obviously," you said. "but unfortunately, i already ordered the body suit."

josh pressed his lips together and made a quick fist in victory. "awesome. i-i mean! aww, well, that's fine, i suppose." he sighed dramatically, convincing absolutely no one that he hadn't wanted this outcome all along. "i'll be linguine."

"i don't feel like fighting a bunch of gays in itaewon for your affection anyways," you said, making him laugh and kiss your cheek quickly before pulling away.

"grilled cheese?"

"is that even a question?"

it wasn't a question when you were weaving through throngs of bunnies and angels, either, holding hands with both him and his sister to not lose them in the crowd, karol and soonyoung trailing behind krys, all five of you on a mission to get carbs in you after starting the night off nearly too strong.

halloween in itaewon was different. it was special, you thought. you usually didn't like crowds, but this one felt good. halloween wasn't a celebrated holiday in korea, but with internet, influencers, and immigrants, the culture found its way into the new age scene. you loved an excuse to celebrate your favorite characters by paying them homage, and joshua had thought that was a noble enough reason for him to justify staying up too late and drinking too much.

you had just left the diner themed bar that you devoured griddle top sandwiches from, as well as another drink, and you spotted a familiar angel making a beeline for you.

well, not you.

"how many times have i tried to get you to come to itaewon with me?" jeonghan asked, pushing joshua's shoulder as soon as he could reach it.

joshua laughed, looking shocked by the sudden appearance of his friend. "you never agreed to be remy!"

jeonghan looked at you, and burst into laughter, making your jaw drop in indignance and whacking your fist against both their arms. "at least we're original. way to put in the effort, han."

he shrugged bringing a straw to his mouth, and you eyed the pink liquid that had clearly been funnelled into a water bottle. "i look better than all these clowns and you know it."

"there you are!"

jeonghan spun, the straw still in his mouth. "shit, i haven't lost you?"

seokmin gave him a sarcastic laugh, adjusting the shoulder of his soccer jersey as he walked up behind him, quickly adding to your small circle as he greeted you and joshua. you stepped aside suddenly, revealing the members of your party that had been lagging behind. "o-oh! it's all of you!"

you made brief eye contact with joshua, who was trying to not laugh at your less than subtle attempt. "you match!" you said quickly, pointing out that krys was dressed as a baseball player. "baseball, soccer," you trailed off, looking around for help.

"sports couple," jeonghan said loudly, slipping you a quick look. "cute."

soonyoung had to put his entire palm over his mouth to stop himself from exploding into giggles when seokmin went red in the ears and krys tried to change the subject as kindly as she could manage.

when you finally made it back into joshua's room, it was far too late (early? you could think about it more, but you preferred resigning to the fact that the passage of time was beyond you and moving on), the sun already starting to light the sky as it prepared to break the horizon. when you stole his toque of his head, he put his hand on your waist, backing you up against the closet door and gently working his lips onto yours.

you giggled, your arms landing on his shoulders. "aren't you tired?

"yeah, but," his eyes fluttering over your face. "i just really like you."

you were smiling when he pressed his lips to yours again. "i really like you, too, but we've been at a sweaty block party all night and we need to shower."

"together?" he asked, a spot of childish hope in his voice. "singular shower?"

you sighed on his lips, playfully threading your fingers against his nape. "if you want?"

the hot water felt especially good after trekking home in the cold without a jacket. and even though it was just meant to be a shower, he kept kissing you like it was something more, pressing you against the tiled wall and running his hands all over your shape. you couldn't stop giggling. pushing his hands away, saying you need to wash up, but giving him looks like you wanted him to keep going. you were running your hands over his chest, rinsing away suds, when joshua couldn't help but put a hand at the base of your neck, tipping your head slightly to deepen an already heated kiss.

"cut it out," you muttered against his lips, feeling them curve despite your eyes staying shut.

"cut what out?"

you looked at him, barely processing anything other than how incredibly handsome he was, even with his lashes stuck together with moisture and his hair slicked back against his head. "trying to fuck me in a shower stall."

he laughed teasingly, leaning into you again. "then why'd you agree to come in here with me?"

your back hit the tile again, and you giggled. "to save water."

and then he's kissing you again, a hand steady on your nape as he worked you open, tongue lapping against yours with a desperation that could only mean one thing. you whimpered dumbly, the squeaky whine escaping you with no difficulty as your hands ran up his chest, your grip longing for any amount of him you could get.

his lips leave you abruptly, asking if this was too much. if you wanted to stop. but you shook your head at him, hands eager to feel more of his shoulders, his neck, his scalp, despite your legs starting to give out. steam drifted between you when you told him your legs felt like jello from your full shift of partying, and if he didn't want to hold you up, you should probably take this to bed.

you were giggling as you frantically dried each other off, stealing kisses that were far too deep to be so short and longing touches that could have been interpreted as purposeful drying if you squinted hard enough, but felt much more like careful teasing. his hands felt right running up your body, and your hair was still damp, but that didn't bother either of you when you fell into bed together.

"i cant believe you want to fuck me when i was dressed like a literal rat," you teased.

he laughed, tugging your thigh up on his hip as his nose nuzzled against yours. "a sexy rat."

you giggled, lips parting when he kissed you. "a rat from a pixar movie."

he didn't miss a beat. "a sexy rat from a pixar movie."

you roll your damn eyes at him, and he just laughs, knowing that it mattered very little what you were wearing before, because now you were bare, clean, and safe in his bed, which was exactly where he wanted you for the rest of forever.

the sun was past its peak when you woke, stretching your sore spine and legs with joshua's arm draped over you. his hand seemed to wake before he did, finding your hip and squeezing gently as he took in his signature first breath of the day.

"g'morning." you smiled at his soft voice as he squinted at you, and you rolled into him to plant a kiss on his lips.

"it's almost two," you said finally.

he groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "too early." his grip around you tightened, making you giggle. "nap time."

you whined. "i wanna make coffee before it gets too late."

"i said nap time," he muttered, face still against the pillow.

"baby, i have a headache."

his head popped up, squinting at the bedside. "there's water."

you laughed incredulously. "i need caffeine."

he just pulled you tighter. "i need you here."

"wow," you said, wrapping your arms around him as he snuggled into your chest. "would rather i suffer from a caffeine headache for your own selfish need to cuddle than let me escape for two minutes to make a coffee and come back?"

he smiled, rubbing his cheek against your sternum. "mhmm."

you giggled, carding your fingers through his hair and resigning to a few more precious moments of uninterrupted snuggling before you could relieve the vague aching in your temples.

he did eventually let you slip out of his grasp, and you asked if he wanted a coffee, too, to which he just blearily blinked at you and nodded once. you laughed, finding a shirt in a drawer and pulling it over your head before exiting to the kitchen.

you hit the kettle first, having a craving for a hot cup of coffee rather than the usual iced, grabbing a mug and glass from a cabinet. the espresso machine sat on the long counter against the windowed outer wall, and your eyes danced across the outside world as you made the two coffees. when you returned to the bedroom, joshua was on his phone, and when you cleared your throat, he dropped his phone on the pillow and pretended to be asleep, complete with a loud snore.

you giggled, sitting on the edge of the bed and nudging him carefully. "get up or i'll put the glass on your neck."

he winced at the idea. "evil," he stated plainly, flopping around to comfortably sit up and taking the iced coffee from you.

you sipped your coffee and put it on the bedside table to swing your feet back under the covers. you shoved at the pillows to support your back as you sat, grabbing your coffee and phone to begin your weekend morning routine of checking the news as you sipped at an americano. "i brought you coffee in bed at two pm. i think i'm pretty saintly."

he gave you a fake laugh, making you giggle and push your foot against his leg under the covers in a half hearted kick. "is that why you said 'oh, god' so much last night?"

you groaned. "gross, joshua. and for the record," you said, eyeing him slyly as a smile broke out on your lips. "that was this morning."

"time is an illusion," he declared, taking a gulp from his coffee and setting it down to get more comfortable beside you as you began to read an article. "are we doing anything today?"

you shook your head, eyes still focused on your screen. "nada."

"nothin'?" joshua fished.

"zilch," you concluded.

"rad," he decided, a light tone in his voice as he grabbed his phone to resume whatever he had been doing before you returned. "do you wanna order breakfast?"

you let out a breath, your head falling back as you looked at him. "yes, oh my god."

he laughed, and his eyes ran over your face in a way you recognized well at this point. to you, it was him just smiling back at you, and you liked that it reached his eyes. but to him, it was the way he looked at you when he was memorizing all the little reasons he adored you, and it was getting harder for him to pretend it wasn't more than just simple adoration.

"question," he started, eyes darting away from yours as he licked his suddenly dry lips and swallowed quickly.

"pasta," you said immediately, pulling your phone to your chest as you gave him your biggest, most convincing eyes before a finger came up to demonstrate a point. "and before you say that's not a breakfast food, i would like to remind you that it is 2pm and i had to sit through a hundred of your italian food puns yesterday despite ratatouille being set in france."

he laughed, and you gave him a confused look. "we can get pasta, but that wasn't the question."

your eyebrow quirked. "what other question could you possibly ask me right now?"

unknowingly, joshua let his face settle into the same look he was giving you less than a minute earlier. "would you want to move in?"

your eyes ran over his face repeatedly, trying to register how serious he was as you considered the idea of staying in this comforting bed and presence for the indefinite future, and even you couldn't hide how nice that sounded. the only thing stopping you was that you couldn't bear to leave karol alone. you had been living together for over four years now, she had been your first roommate in korea, your best friend for years, and an inexplicable source of quiet but understanding comfort for you.

"i understand," joshua assured you, placing his hand over yours after you expressed your hesitation. "i don't know what i'll do with myself when krys decides to move out."

you nodded, studying his face but mind wandering to other things. "krys," you hummed, and he eyed you.

"what genius plan is that brain brewing?"

you shook your head, brushing the thought out of your mind - the thought that krys had said something about needing to find a new place soon. the thought that she had said she was never gonna properly grow up when josh was taking care of her, whether she wanted him to or not. "nothing."

but it wasn't nothing. it was a compromise - you and krys would swap leases.

"are you sure?" you asked her, elbows on the island as krys ate the donuts you had anxiously made that morning. you had brought up the idea to her days before, and she excitedly agreed, but something about it felt too easy to you.

"yes," she assured you, wiping her bottom lip clear of powdered sugar. "i swear, i'm sure. how many times do i have to say it?"

you chewed your cheek. "i don't want you to feel like i'm kicking you out."

"you're not kicking me out," she said matter of factly. "i'm moving out. it just happens to be the same day as you're moving in."

you pouted. "and you're moving into my apartment."

"yeah," she said, nodding. "i get to pay lower rent and have south facing windows in my room. i should feel bad about kicking you out."

it took almost a month to organize everything, but by early december you were just waiting for the date. you purposefully scheduled for a weekend, in order to not disrupt krys' streaming schedule and your video uploads, since you had planned to do a separate moving vlog about safely packing tableware. the weekend before, krys came over to her soon-to-be home for your usual monthly brunch.

flipping pancakes that day felt a little somber, knowing it was the last time you'd be cooking brunch while living with karol. you had been with her for four years, and it felt surreal that you were finally parting ways like this. not only that, but you were moving in with a guy. the idea itself scared the shit out of you - cohabitating with someone other than karol. you'd be sharing a room. sharing a kitchen. sharing all of your space - normally, that would scare you away from agreeing, but something about joshua made you feel safe. he made you feel like you would never try to get back the distance you generally held so dear.

months ago, the idea of sharing space like that while trying to decompress would be unimaginable, but recently, you found alone time with joshua just as healing as alone time with yourself, so the idea of being able to snuggle into his side every night actually put a warm feeling in your stomach. you looked at your friends, who were laughing and drinking bloody marys as you tried to keep up with their conversation. your brain swirled, and you looked back down at the strawberries you were cutting, suddenly realizing you had never felt that way about a boy before.

"woah, you okay, babe?" krys bobbed her head downwards to check your face. "are you crying? i thought only onions did that to you."

you threw your head back, sniffling noisily trying to force the tears back under your ducts. karol stood. "oh, my god, what's wrong?" she frantically put down her drink and rushed around the counter to your side.

"wait, yeah-" krys shook her head rapidly, then reached over to take the knife out of your hand, her face creasing into a worried pout. "what's going on?"

you gathered yourself, embarrassed at how quickly you had cried so hard over such a stupid realization. you almost laughed, realizing what a scene you were making. you never cried. you weren't even sure either of them had seen it before now, yet you were ugly sobbing over something that they all probably already knew.

you swallowed harshly, clearing your throat. "i think i'm in love with josh."

krys and karol always knew you didn't truly care about the gender of your hypothetical partner, but that you had avoided men for a reason other than your attraction to them. they knew you gravitated towards women for practically your entire friendships with either of them, they knew that you never liked to get genuinely drunk and instead took care of the rest of them, and they knew you had never been very interested in sex. these were all known facts about you, and your friends understood that you kept the reasons for these facts close to your chest. they respected that.

but you finally wanted to share why. and the why was your ex.

when you had imagined telling your closest friends about your trauma, this certainly wasn't the situation you expected - crowded around the kitchen counter as your pancakes went cold, and only because you had burst into tears. it wasn't the right place, you thought, for you to talk about how he got you drunk. how you were practically asleep. how you tried to push him away but your body was weak with intoxication and you were powerless against him. someone you trusted. someone you loved.

you had always been the type to fight your own battles. you could stand up for yourself without difficulty, yet he made you scared of men. of what they could do to you. he reminded you that despite your effort to air on the androgynous, you had a body that some people might enjoy against your will. he made you want to hide everything about you and your body, wearing baggy shirts and oversized hoodies every chance you got, avoiding the unwanted gaze of men.

but recently, you've been wearing shorts more. you cropped some old shirts you never got use out of anymore to wear to your weekly yoga class. you had even bought a schoolgirl outfit for exactly one purpose, which had been entirely out of your comfort zone until roughly two months prior, but you had happily worn to please a man.

but in your defense, joshua hong was not like most men.

his appreciation of your body never felt predatory, and it always felt like it was bested by his appreciation of your mind. he didn't treat you like a prize, or like you were his for the taking. he appreciated your body as yours. while you may have found yourself the subject of his desire, you were never an object, and it had been a long time since you had felt comfortable wearing the clothes you liked in favor of opting for whatever would hide the most skin.

krys was crying. karol was too, but she was more focused on hugging you tight as you wiped off the tears that had trailed down your face. krys rounded the counter, loudly vocalising how much she loved you and everything about you, and you laughed out loud as she let out an exaggerated wail.

"actually, though," she said, pulling away slightly and sniffling. "drop the address. we're rolling up on this guy tomorrow."

you laughed again, wiping at your face when your arms were free. "wouldn't even know where to find him now."

"good!" karol declared. "fuck that guy! cut him out! you're a bad bitch!"

krys pouted. "i'm really happy josh helped you heal."

you stared at her for a second, registering that she must have been right. you eyes swam over the counter, thinking about all the times he had helped you feel more comfortable with yourself. with everything. enough to let someone in. enough to love. "i guess that's what this is, huh?"

karol cleared her throat. "so, you love him."

a grin broke out on krys' face, and your eyes immediately rolled. "you love him."

"you love him so bad."

"you wanna marry him and make adorable little hong babies."

"oh my god," you said, pressing the backs of your hands into your eye sockets, annoyed laughter on your lips as they bounced off each other. "you guys suck."

joshua started acting… odd. that was the only way you could describe it. there was nothing specific you could name - maybe the way his eyes were moving slightly too quickly from side to side? or maybe it was the way he inhaled a little extra when you asked him what was up, only for him to push his lips into an exaggerated pout and insist that nothing was. whatever it was, it made you watch him a little bit longer, your eyes squinting slightly more than usual.

you called him the day before, asking if you could bring some stuff over in hopes of making the next day as easy as possible, but his response was quick and surprising.

"what do you mean, no?" you laughed, putting down the wooden tray you were deciding the fate of. "do you have a girl over?"

you could hear him faltering on the other end. "and what if i did?"

"good luck getting her to make you breakfast."

he laughed. "i'm kidding. i have a guy over."

"oh?" you asked. "jeonghan?"

"shut up," he chuckled out. "i'm having something installed, but it was supposed to be a surprise."

"joshua," you reminded him, thinking of what the hell he could have meant by something. "i don't do surprises."

"you do now."

you groaned, a palm landing on your counter. "what is it?"

"a sex swing," he said plainly, as though that were the most obvious fact that you could have questioned, and you practically choked on your laughter, not even letting him confirm that he was joking before you were folded over your counter. and quite frankly, you could not wait another day to let him make you laugh like that as a routine.

you finally seceded, but you were glad when joshua arrived - the suv he rented loaded with krys' things - because it was a signifier that the distance between you and said surprise was shrinking quickly. soonyoung had become a surprisingly helpful voice of reason as you went through your piles of tablewares, telling you which ones to leave behind and which ones to take with you. seokmin had even arrived not long after the suv in his own car, a few brightly colored belongings in his backseat. you and karol exchanged a look when you realized he had volunteered to help krys move, but said nothing out loud, knowing she would do nothing but deny the obvious.

after yours and krys' affects were swapped in the car, you looked around one last time before telling josh you thought that was it.

"wait!" krys faltered, realizing she didn't have a good reason to stop you. "i- uh,"

"they know there's a surprise waiting for them," he said, digging the rental keys out of his jacket pocket.

karol looked to you. "do you know what it is?"

"of course not," joshua stated proudly before you could respond. "i'm like a steel trap."

you laughed. "that's definitely not how that phrase is meant to be used."

he raised a brow at you. "that doesn't change the fact that you could never get that info out of me."

"they absolutely could," karol said.

"for sure," krys agreed.

"i just wanted to let you have this," you admitted.

joshua looked between the three of you with his jaw slightly dropped, and seokmin put a hand over his mouth while crossing his arms to disguise the almost laugh on his lips.

"well, i want to see your reaction," krys decided. "so i'm coming."

"wait," soonyoung asked, putting down the retro boombox he had been investigating, among the other things that had been brought from the loft. "like, the surprise?"

"does everyone know about this but me?" you asked, hands hitting your sides in exasperation.

seokmin looked at you with wide, confused eyes. "i don't."

you lifted your hands in a vague prayer towards him. "thank you for your solidarity."

"i wanna see your face, too!" soonyoung said, ignoring you both. "you're gonna freak."

"joshua," you started, turning to him with a look of dread on your face. "what the fuck did you get?"

"i told you!" he exclaimed. "a sex swing!"

there was an excruciatingly long second of silence, making your palm land directly on your face - just above your eye - before seokmin let out a surprised, "a what?"

"he's kidding," you announced, much to the teacher's relief. "and if he's not we're breaking up."

it was decided that the entire party would move to the loft for the surprise reveal, and you watched your friends pile into seokmin's car with your palms sweating slightly and your molars gently gnawing at the fleshy party of your cheek. because, truly, you didn't handle receiving gifts well when you knew what they were, but you didn't have a single clue as to what could be waiting for you in your new home, and that made you a little nervous to have an audience for your possibly piss poor reaction.

joshua's hand found yours on the drive to the apartment. "you okay?"

you blinked and looked over at him, his eyes catching yours between glances at the road. "i don't do surprises."

"so you've said," he nodded. his fingers squeezed at yours lightly and you exhaled. "do you want to know before we go in? you can just act surprised."

your felt your face soften, registering what he was offering you. "joshua, you don't have to do that-"

"i know," he said. "but if it makes you more comfortable, then…"

"no way," you said. "i'll just stop being a baby. you set up a surprise, the least i can do is participate the way you want me to."

he eyed you, then the way you laced your fingers with his. "but you are a baby."

you rolled your eyes. "shut up, no i'm not."

"my baby," he clarified, and you let out an involuntary giggle.

he was guiding you into the kitchen, his large hands placed over your eyes and covering most of your face by proxy, and you didn't quit your playful complaints for the crowd of your closest friends that had gathered around, their presence obvious despite your vision being impaired.

"ready?" joshua asked.

"josh, i literally hate surprises, do we have to do all this?"

"yes," he said frankly. "because i'm doing something nice for us and you're going to love it so can you shut up and let me do this the way i want to like you told me you wanted me to?"

you paused, hearing the way your friends stifled their laughter as you took in a deep breath.

"ready?" he repeated.

"yeah, i guess," you sighed.

the light was harsh when his hands left your face, and you blinked repeatedly at the kitchen that you spent countless hours in, registering what was different. then, it suddenly clicked, the stovetop joshua had always had was replaced by the blue vintage styled range of your dreams.

"joshua!" you gasped, hands going to your face as you spun to look at him, then back at the range. "you bought me a lacanche?!"

he grinned, hands snaking around your waist from behind as you stood frozen in place. "i bought us a lacanche."

seokmin leaned over to krys. "what's a le conch?"

she reached up and put a finger over his mouth, eyes fixed on you. "shh, they're communicating."

you rushed over to the range, joshua following behind you as you ran your hands over the polished chrome handles that you had stared at on the website for years. "and it's all hooked up?"

he nodded, eyes on you with a smile on his face. "tested it last night."

"without me?" you asked, incredulous.

he laughed. "i didn't want to ruin the surprise by burning the loft down directly after."

your finger fidgeted on the handle, looking over to joshua. he gestured for you to go ahead, and you pushed and spun the knob, lighting a burner and squealing. you shut it off again before launching yourself into a hug.

"joshua!" you wailed, arms wrapped around his neck as he laughed, putting his around your waist. "i love it so much ican'tbelieveyouboughtusafucking lacanche range in portuguese blue for no goddamn reason!"

"there was a reason!" he laughed, letting you pull away slightly to study his face. "it's a housewarming gift. i want you to know this place is yours, too, now."

you did your best to suck the tears back into the ducts they belonged in, trying to not show just how much the gesture meant to you in that way, but you were sure one escaped down your cheek when your hands went to the base of his skull, pulling him into a kiss. you forgot the context of the move. you forgot about your friends that had been excitedly crowded in your new kitchen, anticipating your over the top reaction to what they saw as just a new stove. you, however, were overwhelmed by the specifics - the fact that he had picked the color you chose most often when building your hypothetical dream stove on the website you frequented more often than you would ever admit. the fact that it matched the details on the tile of his kitchen backsplash, a detail you hadn't even noticed when you were looking at them online. the chrome vintage knobs, the layout of the burners - everything was exact to what he had seen you dream about, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the love and care that expressed, hoping you could tell him just how much it meant by working your lips against his.

"ok, gross," krys announced, looking away when the two of you didn't pull apart. "i'm saying goodbye to my wallpaper and we're leaving. would anyone else like to pay their respects?"

seokmin raised his hand, his eyes on the ceiling, and krys grabbed his arm and retreated towards the hall, karol telling them to hurry as soonyoung put up a hand to obstruct his view of you and joshua. when you finally pulled away, it wasn't for their reprieve, though they reacted as though it was. it was so you could look into joshua's eyes, creased with the grin on his face as you gave him a similar one, and you couldn't wait to cook with him, on your, plural, portuguese blue lacanche range, with chrome classique handles, four gas burners, a griddle, and a warming drawer. and it would be your best brunch yet.

[natromanxoff]

Queen live at The Forum in Inglewood, CA, USA - September 15, 1982

Photos supplied by: Bill Cordero

(x)

This is the final concert Queen would ever play in North America. The tour was ultimately not nearly as successful as previous outings. Four nights at the LA Forum had become two. In a 1999 interview with Mojo magazine Roger Taylor recalled, "I remember suddenly realising that we weren't packing them in quite as much as we used to."

According to this review, Staying Power was played on the last night.

Billy Squier, who has opened for Queen at every show on this tour, joins them in the encore during a one-off version of Jailhouse Rock, adding vocals. Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting is also played before Bohemian Rhapsody for the last night's sake.

A bit of video from this show exists. The band are seen going through the corridor to the stage to begin the concert, and Michael Jackson is with them (thanks to Julien Cohen for the link).

Currently, recordings commonly labelled as being from one or both of these Los Angeles dates are from one of the umpteen bootlegs of the Fukuoka '82 shows. Genuine audience tapes and even an 8mm film are rumoured to exist (most likely due to the historic nature of this show), but have never been confirmed.

The concert pictures, snapped by Robert Matheu, are from Phil Sutcliffe's excellent book, The Ultimate Illustrated History of the Crown Kings of Rock.

Here are a few more pro pics: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Reflecting on this tour, Squier had some kind things to say about Freddie Mercury. "He loved to perform. I think all the words about how great a performer he was have been used up. I just used to stand and watch him every night thinking, 'How do you do that? Just how do you get away with it?' It was the onstage Freddie that was most fearless. He believed in what he and the band were doing so much. He never projected the slightest fear or self-doubt and that just swept the audience along with him. He just knew that the show was going to work. He was made for the stage. His sense of theatricality was the key, and it was a key which so very few other rock performers have at their disposal."

About a week after this show, Brian May was interviewed for the January 1983 issue of Guitar Player magazine. Here are some excerpts:

"We used to do the song 'Son and Daughter' on stage, and the solo section in the middle of that became what was in 'Brighton Rock'. After 'Brighton Rock' was recorded, that solo evolved a lot more. One facet of it was the way it is on the live album, but it's changed a lot since then. Sometimes we've dropped it because I felt I got stale. I don't like to do exactly the same thing two nights running. That should be a time when you can do something different. Now we don't do "Brighton Rock" anymore, so it's gone full circle. In the beginning, the solo was there and the song was around it. And now the song's gone and the solo's there.

"It's just a delay machine set on one delay rather than a multiple, so it's not a sort of echo effect. It's one line coming back at you. I have two delay machines, so I can do three-part harmonies with that: I can play alone - maybe two or three notes - and then it comes back and I can play along with it. And then it comes back again and there are three parts. The delays are mostly about one and a half seconds. A lot of things can happen: You can play in synch with what comes back and make the harmonies, or you can play chords and then single notes on top to get a playing-in-rhythm effect. You can also do various kind of counterpoints. Sometimes they work. It all depends on whether I can hear myself well. If it's a good night and I can really hear well, I can do things that demand very close timing. On this tour I've been experimenting with steps which are not exactly on the beat: so when it comes back at you, they are in a different place each time. I found I could do all sorts of strange things with that, just making them mesh in a different way.

"I've thought it was obsolete many times. We've thrown it out. We haven't done it every night on this tour. But somehow it seems to creep back in there. It's weird. I did it for years, and nobody would talk about it. And then when I threw it out, people said, "Hey! How could you do that?" On this tour we did some special things with the lights. We had t hose pods which can fly about, and I used to do a little battle with those. That gave it a new lease on life. People would tend to notice that. As opposed to not saying anything, they would say, "I like the lights in the solo [laughs]." I've found that people seem to appreciate long solos more on this tour than they did before. I think a lot of people thought our material was veering too far away from the heavy side, and they thought the solo stuff redressed the balance to a certain extent.

"I didn't feel that this tour was making me very happy. I've often felt that in the studio, but that's the first time I felt it on tour. I didn't feel happy until the last concert. The last night in L.A. I felt quite cheered up. I was prepared to think, "Well, I don't really want to do this anymore." Somehow when it got to the last one, Freddie was really on form and giving a million precent, and I felt that it was going well. So the end of the tour finished on a good note for me. I felt like I did want to be out there doing it again sometime. But we are going to have a long rest." [Of course, after the six shows in Japan next month.]

Back in 1977 Brian was quoted saying, "We've always thought it was wrong to regard a tour purely as a promotional exercise, because some people have done that, and gone out and slogged away at the hits and the new album, and I don't think that makes for good touring." Maybe that's at least partly the reason why he didn't enjoy himself this time around.

(x)

[allsassnoclass]

okay so re: smutless long fics, I’ve tried to compile a list of fics as close to 50k words as possible since that’s the wordcount the anon cited and tbh my friends there really are not that many that I personally have read but I did my best.  All fics under the cut are over 30k and have either been verified good by me or my trusted friends

delete this transmission by @anxietycalling: 67k mashton sci-fi. I reread this one recently and it’s just as amazing the second time around I very highly recommend it

“Yeah,” he says, catching sight of his reflection in the dimly reflective surface and running fingers through his hair to fluff it up. And instead of getting on the mag-train home like he wants to, he catches the northbound train to the greenlawn with Calum. “You know, I think I might not go through with it,” he tells his best friend, meaning his activation. They sit together across from the back doors of the car and watch the adverts for an upcoming showing of ‘Titanic’ at the interactive theater. While Calum sits beside him silently he gnaws on a thumbnail and wonders whether it’s too late to get his money back.

“You can’t go back on it now,” Calum tells him.

And it’s true: His payment has already been processed, the credits removed from his profile. The invoice showed up in his e-net overnight and he’d added it to his encrypted folder. “It’s just - weird,” he says, weighing each of the words on his tongue before he speaks. “To be in charge of another person like that. I don’t want that responsibility.”

I’m a Falling Star by @pixiegrl: 55k lashton fantasy, very cute and sweet

A philosopher once asked, “Are we human because we gaze at the stars or do we gaze at them because we are human?” Pointless really. “Do the stars gaze back?” Now that’s a question.

Or: Ashton’s a shop boy setting out on a adventure to find a star to help grant a wish. Luke’s a star crashed to Earth looking for some help to get back home. They’re both in for more adventure than they bargained for.

I Wanna Sleep Next to You... by milecgv: 54k malum college au.  I read it over a year ago but I’m pretty sure I enjoyed it then

"Cuddle buddies, how can I help you?"

Pausing, Calum thought, he could just hang up. Get over the moment of weakness and face the rest of the night alone. He could do it. But the idea of spending one more second alone, brought a fresh pang of hurt to his heart and really, he couldn't bear it. Before his thought process could spiral out of control, the calm voice repeated itself.

"Um, yeah. I-, I need someone to-" He cut himself off because really, how was he going to phrase this?

Chuckling softly, the man on the other line interjected. "Sir, do you need someone to cuddle you?"

Shit, it was now or never. "Yeah. I-uh, I do." His voice came out so small, and he really hoped the man on the other side wouldn't pick up on how desperate he was.

~~~

Calum gets the opportunity to live out his dreams in New York City but it proves too much for him, and on a lonely night he ends up calling the professional cuddle service he swore he'd never call.

those are the only three completed fics over 50k that I personally can vouch for, but here are a few more longer ones I’ve read and I’ll link some over 50k that have gotten good reviews from my friends after those.

Destination: Perth by onlythevoid: 34k lashton 

The stranger swung into the seat next to him and sighed contentedly. Luke stole a glance from under his hat. It was a boy with light-brown messy hair, reminiscent of surfers Luke saw on the beach in Brisbane - he had a t-shirt on and black jeans, and fade-tint round-frame sunglasses propped on his straight nose.

The stranger caught Luke’s eyes.

“Hey?” The stranger asked. Shouldn’t have looked at him, Luke thought. Too late.

The stranger had set his sunglasses on his head and was peering below Luke’s cap. “Dude. You look terrible. Are you okay?”

Oh, so the stranger was one of those guys. Too friendly and ever-inquisitive. Yes, Luke looked like shit; he’d been crying for an hour at a time, every few hours, and all he’d had to eat in the past two days was some wet broccoli at the hospital and a bag of chips he’d bought that morning in Brisbane, and there were bruises all up and down his right arm from a car crash he wished he’d died in.

Luke didn’t say any of that. He prayed his voice would be steady and said, “Yes. Thanks.”

The messy-haired boy did not seem convinced. After a pause, he offered, “My name’s Ashton, by the way.”

hello, hello by @clumsyclifford: 30k lashton

For one long, blinking minute, Luke stares at Ashton and wonders if he’s hallucinating. Because that’s definitely Ashton. That’s Ashton Irwin, his former best friend from Sunny Days, the show they co-starred on as children.

But it’s also definitely Ashton Fletcher, professional film actor worth many millions, possibly hundreds of millions, of dollars, standing on his doorstep, wind ruffling his hair.

Now for the fics that I haven’t read but can confidently say are good through a rigorous peer review system (aka I have friends who read them/I have read and enjoyed other works by these people)

home is wherever you are tonight by @lifewasradical: 72k lashton. this one is on my tbr, I have only heard good things, and I’ve read other things by Amanda and trust her as a writer

Life has become so mundane in the past few years that there’s very little that sends a thrill up Luke’s spine anymore. It’s that idea that had him saying yes to the idea of moving out here for a few weeks anyways: the knowledge that this was a completely new place where no one knew his name. He could be anyone he wanted to be here, within reason. He wouldn’t be seeing any of these people again after May, so what’s the harm in becoming a new person for a bit? Someone not so bogged down by the shit in their head that they can’t get out of bed some mornings. Maybe this is a step in the direction of the person Luke wants to be in the future anyways.

Or, Luke inherits a beach house on a tiny costal island that needs some work. He didn't plan on falling in love with the guy at the hardware store.

world war series by prettyluke: 58k lashton historical au. Megs really likes this one and I trust her judgement

Even after months of seeing bodies ripped apart by bullets and bombs, Ashton still isn't prepared to be ripped apart by the fragile German soldier who has seen far more than any child should.

and

Luke shows up in Britain after 25 years right in time for World War Two to start, and Ashton has been waiting for someone to yank him from his melancholy since Christmas of 1914.

i’ll keep on fighting (just to make you believe) by @squishmichael: 33k muke I have heard good things about this one, have read other works by Taylor and trust them as a writer, and also I did skim this one when it first came out and it’s good I just need to sit down and fully read while paying attention

“Hi, Mike,” Luke says softly.

Michael might have cried from hearing his voice so clearly, not through a phone line, but instead his smile just gets bigger and bigger until his cheeks hurt.

“Hey, Luke,” he replies before throwing himself at Luke, arms looping around his neck and holding tight.

“Easy there, tiger,” Luke says with a chuckle, but he hugs Michael back.

It feels so different, all the shapes and sizes wrong, yet Michael has never felt so at home, melting right into the hug. Luke still fits so perfectly against him despite everything. Because it’s them, and they’re meant to be, and Michael never wants to let go.

*

In which Luke is finally coming home to Australia for the summer after two years, and everything should be perfect. Michael quickly realizes nothing is.

Under the High Low Lights I See You There by @pixiegrl: 33k lashton 90s bar au. I have heard a lot of good things and I have read and enjoyed Emily’s writing

Luke moves onto cleaning the glasses, sneaking glances over at him, admiring the open blue flannel he’s wearing with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his chest in the white tank top he’s wearing and the pull of it over his muscles, the acid wash denim pants straining over his thighs. He’s attractive and Luke knows he shouldn’t be looking, shouldn’t be so obvious in his stares, but he can’t help it. The man was made to be admired.

Or: It’s the summer of 1996 in New York City when Luke meets Ashton at his bar. Things aren’t always as they seem.

He Did Ballet by @kaleidoscopeminds: 34k cake. people love this one and meg is a great writer

Like the way he danced, everything in Luke's life was perfectly placed, an allegro exercise all on beat, an enchainment with no mistakes. The last thing he needed was a distraction, something to pull his attention away and make him stumble, like losing your spot during a series of fouettés. He glances back towards the bar and sees Calum still looking in his direction. Luke catches his eye again by mistake for just a second too long and Calum smiles slowly and winks at him. Luke shivers slightly and already feels slightly unbalanced. Calum is definitely not a good idea.

Luke's life is perfectly on track. He is about to get everything he's ever wanted, to become a Principal dancer for the Royal Ballet. He's focused, determined and nothing will get in his way. Then he meets Calum, a smooth-tongued barman with dangerous eyes, and suddenly not everything's so simple.

The Sun Is Burning Down Los Angeles by @burstingsunrise: 40k cake. have heard good things and Molly is a good writer

Calum probably signed a form saying he wouldn’t fall in love with the lead singer of the band. And he really doesn’t want to. What a cliché. It’s just…people get famous for a reason. This guy got famous for all the reasons.

***

Calum moves to LA to work for 5SOS.

[hrtiu]

@flybynite19 come get your man.

Brit’ni haunted the long aisles of the Coruscant Public Convention Halls, her eyes darting from stall to stall. This was the biggest Galaxy of Heroes miniature convention in the Republic, and if she didn’t find it here, she wouldn’t find it anywhere. Finally, in a sketchy-looking booth in one of the auxiliary wings, she saw it.

It was perfect. A mint-condition figure with articulated arms, first-edition armor, and no helmet. It was almost impossible to find a figure of Captain Tabbard without a helmet, and Brit’ni couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. 

She reached out. “How much for-?”

Another hand grabbed the package just before her, blocking her fingers from her prize.

“What’s the price?” the interloper asked.

Brit’ni turned on her rival, ready to throw hands if necessary. “Excuse me! I was here first!”

A Human man blinked back at her from behind huge, yellow-tinted goggles. “As you can see, my hand reached the package first. I believe that means I have dibs.”

“Look, buddy. Just because you have slightly faster twitch reflexes than me doesn’t mean you get this figure. I’ve been looking for it for forever and I saw it first. Run along.” She tightened her grip around his bony fingers and shot him a death glare, then flicked her gaze to the shopkeeper. 

The Ithorian man backed away slowly and raised his hands, his translator sputtering out his apologies. “The price is 70 credits. Whoever can pay gets it. Don’t drag me into this.”

“Please let go of my purchase,” the Human in the goggles said. “I don’t have time for this.”

“I’m not letting go until Captain Tabbard is in my bag. Got it, Goggles?”

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head disapprovingly. “This stalemate is productive to neither of us. I propose a compromise.”

“What, you get the head, I get the body? No way.”

“As humorous as that would be, I was thinking something more mutually beneficial. You seem to be an avid collector, and I have several pieces that might be of interest to you.”

Brit’ni leaned closer to him, but didn’t loosen her grip on the figure. “Something more interesting than a first-edition Captain Tabbard? I don’t think so.”

“If you’re a fan of Captain Tabbard, I’d imagine you also enjoy the Chandrilan Guard. But there aren’t any figures for the standard Chandrilan Guard armor. I happen to have a custom pattern made for their armor. I’d be willing to share as many molds as you’d like if you are interested in creating the whole set.”

Brit’ni salivated at the thought. A whole set of custom CG figures? She’d been doing her best to make her own over the years, but with new resources… She’d be unstoppable.

“You have my attention…”

“We split the cost, 50/50. We store the figure in a locker at Coruscant Central. Then we meet up next week. I show you the goods and we decide on the deal. If you don’t want my customs, you take the figure and we go our separate ways. If you do, we make the trade.”

Brit’ni narrowed her eyes at him. “It didn’t take you very long to come up with this plan.”

He shrugged. “I’m smart.”

Brit’ni leaned closer to him, staring him right in those yellow-tinted eyes. She wasn’t in the habit of trusting strangers on a planet like Coruscant—especially not lately. But she really wanted those customs. 

“Deal.”

---

“Your name is Tech?” Brit’ni asked doubtfully as they walked down to the magtrain platform together.

“That’s what I just said.”

“Ok, sure,” Brit’ni said. What was it to her if he gave her a fake name? They didn’t need to be best buddies or anything.

“We live in a galaxy of billions of planets, populated by thousands of unique species, each with their own distinctive regional subcultures. I don’t see why ‘Tech’ should be a particularly unusual name, considering.”

Brit’ni laughed and shook her head. “Ok, now I get where you got your name.”

They swiped their muni chits and stepped onto the waiting magtrain, finding a spot near the back where they could both comfortably hold to the hand rails. It was a weekend so the train wasn’t as crowded as it would be during rush hour, but Brit’ni still barely felt like she had room to breathe. Just a few inches from her, Tech’s eyes darted back and forth across the magtrain car and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“New to Coruscant?” she asked.

He looked up in surprise, like he’d forgotten she was there. “...Yes.” His expression was oddly guarded, and Brit’ni raised her hands reassuringly.

“You just look like I did when I was still new to the magtrains. Eventually you’ll get used to the close quarters.”

His shoulders relaxed and he nodded. “So many variables, with all these people around. Too many unknowns for my taste. And sentient life is so… unpredictable.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d put it quite like that but I think I get you. There’s a reason we collect little plastoid figures, right?”

A single eyebrow peaked out above Tech’s goggles and he tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought about it like that before, but perhaps you are right.”

The magtrain shuddered as it rounded a turn on the old track, and Brit’ni clutched her precious Captain Tabbard tighter to herself.

Why so much interest in Captain Tabbard?” Tech asked. “Some figures are rare because of their popularity, but he was simply rarely produced due to lack of interest.”

Brit’ni bristled like he was insulting her toddling infant. “He’s the best character!”

“I understood that most fans of the serials disliked him because of his treachery.”

“Treachery?” she scoffed. “That’s not treachery. He had good reason to be loyal to both the Old Republic and Tiberian Empire. It was his conflict that made him interesting. And in the end he chose what was right. That’s what makes a good character. Conflict. Struggle. Then overcoming in the end.”

“I suppose.”

“What about you, then? Who’s your favorite character?”

“In Galaxy of Heroes? I don’t know—never seen it.”

Brit’ni’s jaw dropped. “Then why were you ready to fight me over this figure?”

He shrugged. “I’m a completionist. This is the last one I need to complete the set. You know they’re more valuable together, right?”

She just stared at him. Her eyes trailed down to his booted feet, up his khaki slacks, past his drab, navy-colored tunic, and back to those big, yellow-tinted eyes. Who was this guy?

“Deal’s off,” she said.

“What?”

“I can’t give Captain Tabbard to… to someone who won’t appreciate him.”

“I appreciate him! He’s a first edition, mint-condition, ultra-rare piece that will complete my collection! How much more appreciation can you get than that?”

“No.” Brit’ni shook her head. “You’re not worthy.”

Tech pursed his lips and huffed through his nose.”Well I still paid for half of that figure, so what do you suggest we do? Cut it in half?”

She recoiled in horror. “No! I’ll pay you the 35 credits and I take the figure. It’s as simple as that.”

“That’s unacceptable. You have to at least give me a chance to meet your criteria.”

“How could you possibly do that?”

“By watching Galaxy of Heroes. I watch it, I tell you my favorite character, I show my appreciation for Captain Tabbard.”

“Or I could just take Captain Tabbard home now, and have a figure of my very favorite character to display proudly on my shelf.”

The magtrain slowed and a cheery voice emanated from the intercom. “Coruscant Central.”

“We’re at the station,” Tech said. “I suggest you get off, because I assure you my Chandrilan Guard figures are very good.”

He stepped off the train and Brit’ni bit her lip, her grip tightening on the handlebar as she watched. “Ah, sithspit,” she cursed under her breath, and hopped off the train just as the doors closed.

She hurried to catch up to him—he set a surprisingly quick pace considering how scrawny he looked under those pants—and he tilted his head in her direction in acknowledgment.

“Glad you decided to join me,” he said.

“I really want those CG customs. I’ve been saving up for materials for forever but they’re expensive and my job doesn’t believe in working hours that give me enough time to sleep and eat.”

Tech frowned. “What kind of job is that? It seems like a sub-optimal way to treat your employees.”

“I work at one of the Imperial training facilities. I get to clean up after all the sweaty recruits in the exercise halls. It smells and I hate my life.”

He tensed almost imperceptibly at her side and Brit’ni tried not to notice. Plenty of people on Coruscant didn’t like the Empire, but a job was a job. And Captain Tabbard wasn’t going to pay for himself.

“That sounds… unpleasant. I hope you are able to find alternate forms of employment sometime soon.”

“Yeah, me too. But there aren’t too many options these days,” she said with a sigh. “If I had my way I’d be working in the archives or curating the Imperial Historical Society. I have the training for it, too! But I guess they only need a handful of people to do that, and they need thousands to clean the stormtroopers’ locker rooms.”

He nodded sagely, and she wondered if she was saying too much. Scratch that—she was definitely saying too much. But any time her job came up she couldn’t help but try to distance herself from it. To distance herself from the Empire.

“I also wish I could spend my days doing research and furthering our understanding of the universe. But unfortunately I don’t have that luxury,” Tech said.

Brit’ni looked at him out of the corner of her eye, surprised at the wistfulness in his voice. Maybe she’d judged him too harshly. A completionist who’d never watched Galaxy of Heroes he might be, but they might have more in common than she’d thought. He gave the station map a quick once-over, pushing his goggles up his nose as he read the map, and she couldn’t help but notice how oddly endearing the action was. She cursed herself. She’d always had a weakness for hopeless nerds.

They wound their way through the labyrinthine corridors of Coruscant’s largest magtrain station, and Tech seemed to know every turn and forgotten corner. He took them down another flight of stairs to the lower levels, where the storage lockers were, and a squirmy feeling started to bubble up in Brit’ni’s stomach. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to follow a stranger down into the depths of Coruscant Central without telling anyone where she was. But something about Tech felt oddly comforting. Condescending and annoying, yes, but also kind of nice.

Brit’ni cleared her throat and tried to dispel her sudden nerves. “So… what do you do, then?”

“I’m a tech specialist,” he answered immediately.

Brit’ni furrowed her brows. “A tech specialist? Are you military?”

He looked at her like he’d forgotten she was there, then shook his head, oddly flustered. “No, I mean… I do holo repair, comm device repair, droid maintenance—that sort of thing.”

“Oh.” Sure he did.

“It’s, uh, not very glamorous, but it pays the bills,” he said, tacking on an awkward laugh like the world’s worst holo actor.

Brit’ni resisted the urge to roll her eyes. I promise you, dude. Whatever your secrets are, they aren’t nearly as interesting as you think. She found herself wishing he’d just be honest with her, then reminded herself that she didn’t care. She didn’t. He was just a means to the end of collecting Captain Tabbard, not an strangely cute guy she wanted to learn more about.

They approached a squat Rodian manning the checkout counter for locker rentals and paid up.

“And can we get two locks, please?” Brit’ni asked. She needed some assurance that Tech wasn’t just going to come back later, open their locker, and leave.

The Rodian shrugged and tossed them another lock. “Sure.”

They walked down the aisle of lockers and found theirs—locker number 9999. Tech gave a weird smile at the number, but Brit’ni ignored it and opened the locker, carefully placing Captain Tabbard inside and giving him one last look of longing before closing the locker on his beautiful, first-edition face.

They both stuck their locks on the door, and Brit’ni pulled out her portable comm device.

“What’s your comm signature?” she asked.

“I don’t see that that’s necessary.”

“Sure it is. What if I can’t make our meeting time? What if you decide to watch Galaxy of Heroes but its themes and storyline are too complex for you to follow? What if you decide to back out and just want to give me your lock key so I can pick the Captain up?”

He frowned. “Alright, then.”

They swapped comm signatures and Brit’ni stuck her hand out to shake. Tech hesitated a moment, like he wasn’t sure what to do with it, then took her hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Brit’ni said with a firm, professional shake.

“Likewise.”

---

A few days later Brit’ni staggered home from her shift at the training facility with a deep and abiding exhaustion in her bones. She swiped open the door to the small apartment she shared with her younger sister and stumbled through the dark room, determined not to turn on the lights. Her sister was already asleep and Brit’ni knew she had an early shift the next morning.

Brit’ni shed her uniform, took a quick shower, and fell into bed. She could easily have fallen asleep right then and there, but she hated going to sleep right after getting home from work. It felt like giving up—like acknowledging that all there was to her life right now was sleep and work. She rolled over onto her side and pulled out her comm device, checking for messages. There were a few from her mom, a couple of taunting inside jokes from her sister, and… one from a signature she didn’t immediately recognize. 

She opened the message, convinced it was some kind of advertisement but curious nonetheless.

I am happy to report that my viewing of Galaxy of Heroes has commenced. Will keep you updated on my progress. -T

A surprised smile rose to her lips. Maybe her evening would be a little more interesting than usual, after all.

She gave it some thought, then typed a response. The first episode is great, but the rest of the first season is a little slow. Make sure you keep watching to season 3.

She pulled out a datapad and scrolled mindlessly through several news updates. There was never anything interesting anymore—not since the Empire had taken over. All the updates felt like propaganda, but there was nothing else to read. Then her comm device pinged.

Then why don’t I just skip straight to season 3? I don’t understand how people can be such fans of a program while disliking a significant percentage of the content. -T

She snorted. Don’t skip to season 3! I thought you were a completionist.

He responded immediately. Fair point. -T

Deciding to let him focus on the show, Brit’ni rolled out of bed, determined to do something useful with the evening before calling it a night. She pulled a case of her in-progress figures out from under her bed and hauled them over to the small work desk she’d set up in the corner. She had some painting to do.

Commander Fes’s helmet was beautiful. The design etched across its surface was gorgeous, with intricately weaving strips of color and textures. That also made it an absolute beast to paint, and Brit’ni extricated her tiniest brushes from the bottom of her brush bag. 

Eyes straining with the microscopic details, she labored over the good commander’s helmet for a solid half hour before setting her tools down in frustration. She glowered at the thumb-sized helmet, as if her anger would force it to cooperate better, and reached for her comm device.

What paint do you use for your customs? she sent Tech. For the fine details? I feel like I’m going crazy with Commander Fes’s helmet.

I don’t hand-paint details that small. I have a three dimensional stamper, so I design the decals at full size then use the stamper to apply them. -T

Huh. Brit’ni had heard of tools like that, but most collectors had to make them themselves. It wasn’t a simple or easy thing to put together.

I’ve always wanted to use one of those! Did you follow the Talatar template or the Bikqwik one?

Neither. I made my own design, though to be fair the base design was inspired more by the Bikqwik one. -T

Maybe I should make one. I’d love to get those fine details right, but I don’t know if I have the time to figure it out or the money for all the pieces.

That’s understandable. I was able to use leftover pieces from my work, so it wasn’t so expensive for me. -T

Images of a perfectly-painted Commander Fes helmet floated through Brit’ni’s mind, and she had half a mind to ask him to lend her his printer. That would probably be too much, though. She was considering what she should say next when Tech sent her another message.

It’s nice to talk to another collector about customs and painting. My colleagues are not very interested. -T

Brit’ni laughed. Same! My sister and mom indulge me, but they definitely don’t care as much as I do.

She set her comm device down and refocused her attention on Commander Fes’s helmet. It might be nice to use a three dimensional stamper, but this was what she had to work with for now. And as she focused in on the tiny design, she had to admit that it was turning out pretty well.

She soon fell into a groove so deep she hardly noticed the next half hour fly by. Then her comm device pinged again, breaking her from her painting trance.

I’m going to sleep now, but I’m happy to report that I’ve finished season one. -T

Brit’ni’s brows rose. You finished a whole season in one night?

I’m watching it at double speed. -T

That’s cheating!

When you demanded I watch the show you did not specify a required playback speed. -T

Do I have to specify things that should be obvious??

Goodnight, Brit’ni. -T

No longer in the mood to paint, Brit’ni set Commander Fes’s tiny helmet on a stand to dry, then packed up her materials. She crawled into bed and set her alarm, her eyes already heavy with how tired she’d be in the morning. Still, it had been a pleasant night.

---

The week flew by, and Brit’ni was so busy with work she hardly had any time to work on her figures or chat with Tech. Every once in a while he messaged her with updates on his viewing progress, and he was burning through Galaxy of Heroes at an alarming rate. His last message he sent the morning of the day they’d agreed to meet back up at the station—a simple statement that he’d finished the series. 

Brit’ni wanted to ask him his thoughts, who his favorite character was, and what he thought of the infamous plot twist in season seven, but instead she’d had to run off to work. By the time her shift ended, she was excited to hop on the magtrain and head to Coruscant Central not only to finally see his promised customs, but also to talk to him. Funny, that.

She walked down into the lower levels of the station and quickly found locker 9999. Tech was already there, typing away on some kind of datapad built into his wristguard. Brit’ni didn’t think he’d worn that the last time they��d met, but she also couldn’t really depend on her memory.

“Hey!” she called out, and he looked up from his datapad.

“Excellent. Right on time.” 

He swung his backpack off his shoulders and rummaged through it, pulling out a carefully labelled black box as she approached.

“Are those the custom molds?” Brit’ni asked eagerly.

“Yes.” He opened the box and she could swear the box was glowing from the inside like some kind of mythic treasure.

“I have molds for the standard shock trooper, captain, commander, and the recon units. Four molds in all.”

With a reverent hand, Brit’ni lifted the silicoid molds from their case. The detail work was exquisite, the edges sharp and defined. “I just pour in molding plastoid and let it cool?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yes, that should work adequately.”

She stared for a minute longer, her fingers running over each groove and divet. They were perfect. “Alright, you have a deal.”

“No, but… I haven’t told you about Galaxy of Heroes yet…” Tech said, confused.

“That’s alright, the molds are enough-”

“I watched that entire series in a week. I’m going to tell you about it,” he snapped.

Brit’ni shut the case with the molds and stepped back from him a pace, her eyebrows raised. “Alright then, do you see now why Captain Tabbard is the best?”

“He’s such a minor character, it’s hard for me to understand why he is your favorite. But I do see the nuance and conflict that you mentioned earlier. I can see why you admire him.”

“Who’s your favorite, then?” It had better not be that awful Alduous Rux. Or even worse: Leve Bontera.

“K3WO was my favorite, I believe,” he said.

“The droid? Really?” she asked, though as soon as the words left her mouth she had to admit that it made a certain sort of sense.

“Yes. He always remained level-headed, he was intelligent, but he had his own personality. He was my favorite.”

“Ok, fine, I get it. But what about your favorite organic character?”

“Why does it have to be an organic character?”

“Do you have to argue everything I say?”

“It’s not arguing if-” 

Tech suddenly cut off, his eyes darting down the hall, and Brit’ni followed his gaze. Two stormtroopers had stepped off the landing and were making their way towards locker 9999. Tech glanced quickly away from them, but the tension in his shoulders was clear. 

Brit’ni saw the problem immediately. They looked like they were making some kind of illicit deal here, exchanging goods in the basement of Coruscant Station. The misunderstanding could be easily cleared up under normal circumstances, but Tech obviously didn’t want any attention from Imperials.

Thinking fast, Brit’ni clutched the black case of molds to her chest. “Oh, honey! You shouldn’t have!”

Tech stared doubtfully back at her through his goggles, his eyes growing wide enough to fill the lenses as she grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him to her.

“What are you-” he hissed.

She pressed her mouth to his before he could give them away, her hands snaking around his back to make sure he didn’t pull away while the stormtroopers were still watching. She worried that she might have to fight him the entire time, which would both make her feel like the worst kind of swamp scum and would also make this significantly less enjoyable. But then he relaxed into the kiss and set his hands at her waist, his long fingers careful and hot against her skin. He picked her up by the waist and spun them around, pressing her back into the lockers. Then he kissed up the side of her neck. Heated shivers ran up Brit’ni’s body, and she wondered if maybe she’d gotten in way over her head.

“Good thinking,” he whispered into her ear once he reached the top of her neck. “My apologies for not realizing sooner.”

“Th-that’s fine,” she stuttered, looking over his shoulder to check for the stormtroopers. They were still there. “Still got eyes.”

He nodded, then kissed her again, this time sliding a hand up her back to run his fingers through her hair. She pressed herself further into him, finding surprisingly firm, defined muscle under his plain clothing. Brit’ni doubted that there was an electronics repairman this athletic in the entire galaxy, and the mystery that was Tech just seemed to deepen with each passing moment. 

Then one of Tech’s hands slipped lower on her waist and all coherent thought fled from Brit’ni’s mind. Her teeth caught on his bottom lip and she tugged gently. He started against her, and she took that as encouragement. Then she slipped her tongue into his mouth, and he started again, this time jerking away from her in surprise. 

Brit’ni’s gaze darted to where she’d last seen the stormtroopers and, Force be damned, there they still were. Staring like a bunch of touch-starved morons.

“What are you looking at, you karking pervs!” she shouted at them.

The troopers flinched away like she’d hit them, then sputtered something about their patrol route and orders to “carry on.” They turned back the way they went and soon enough they were up the stairs and out of sight.

Brit’ni let out a heavy sigh of relief and let her weight lean back against the lockers behind her. “Well, that was a lot closer than it needed to be.”

“Yes,” Tech said, a healthy dusting of red high on his cheeks. “Thank you, by the way. I’d rather avoid Imperial entanglements.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” she said with a wry twist of the mouth.

“And, uh… My apologies, for losing my grip earlier. I… well I have never engaged in kissing before.”

Brit’ni sat up straight at that, her eyes going wide. “Really?” she asked, her skin still tingling from where he’d run his hands up her back. “You could have fooled me.”

“Well, I’ve seen plenty of holos,” he said, shrugging with one shoulder. “The mechanics of it seem simple enough. But, um. I didn’t really know what to expect in terms of sensation.”

“Ah,” Brit’ni said, feeling the heat rising in her own cheeks. “Well, it all worked out in the end.”

“That it did. Now if we could exchange goods?”

“Sure.”

They each unlocked their locks and there Captain Tabbard was, safe in his perfectly-preserved box. Tech handed her back her 35 credit share of the price, then lifted Captain Tabbard carefully from the locker. Brit’ni checked the CG molds Tech had given her one more time, then closed and locked the case.

“I guess we’re done, then,” she said, suddenly not sure where to put her hands.

“A pleasure,” Tech said, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there was some secret meaning hidden behind the quirk of his lips.

“A pleasure.”

---

A few days later, Brit’ni dragged herself to work feeling particularly haggard. She went through the service entrance and changed into her ugly uniform, then jogged to her supervisor’s office just in time to clock in.

She punched the buttons that would start recording her time, then started to walk away from the desk.

“Brit’ni? That you?” her supervisor asked, turning around in his swivel chair. He was a pale, sleight Human who’d barely spoken three words to Brit’ni before today.

She turned back to him slowly, her body already tensing to expect the worst. “Yes, sir?”

“You have a package.”

“A package?”

“Yeah.” He got up from his desk and pulled a drab grey box out from under the counter, sliding it towards Brit’ni with a look of perfect unconcern on his face. “Someone dropped it off early this morning for you.”

“Oh…” That was strange. In earlier years Brit’ni had liked surprises like this, but ever since the Empire… Well, let’s just say that most surprises were bad ones these days.

She took the package back to the locker room and set it down on one of the durasteel benches. Carefully, like she was defusing a bomb, she opened it up. Inside, the perfectly-painted face of Captain Tabbard stared up at her, a bright orange piece of flimsi stuck to his box just over his chest.

Dear Brit’ni,

Thank you for the other day. I should have just given this to you at the time, but I’m afraid I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I hope our paths cross again.

-T

A slow smile crept across Brit’ni’s face, and she picked up Captain Tabbard, holding his box to her chest. She knew she and Tech’s paths would cross again. She’d make sure of it.

[toweroftickles]

UNCATEGORIZED FILES: Completely Random Ticklish Character Examinations

Exploring the multiverse for ticklish test subjects is surprisingly tedious sometimes. There’s so much data to sift through, tons of organization, and you’re often stuck with the same popular victims.

It’s fun to go after underutilized, unknown, or obscure entities. As of yet these personality profiles cannot properly be sorted within existing folders.

Mary Smith (Mary & The Witch’s Flower)

Most Ticklish Spots: Arches, Belly, Knees

A kind but proud witch student…skillful, protective of own image. Can’t stand being tickled - considers it humiliating and frustrating. Post-release, will immediately curl up into a ball, or cover her stomach with her arms and pout.

Sad-sounding laughter that really lers you know that she hates it. Helplessly begs for it to stop.

Will react with fury, and fight back.

Tickle Talk: Playful teasing with plenty of giggles, if she’s the one who starts it. If enacting revenge, however, she taunts aggressively and angrily to embarrass her playmate as much as possible.

When allowed the use of magic, imaginatively utilizes tickling finger spells, as well as object manipulation and stasis.

Teased about how ticklish she is by her boyfriend Peter. Tickle fights common.

Add. Notes: Comparisons to (her contemporary) Kiki are all but inevitable - not quite as ticklish but much less open to enjoying it. Direct side-by-side comparison may be beneficial for studying the impact of magic on sensitivity.

Razor Lemay (Starlink: Battle for Atlas)

Most Ticklish Spots: Feet, Abs and Belly Button, Upper Ribcage

This no-nonsense metal band pilot is highly resistant - use stronger restraints in future. A violent thrasher. Headbanging skills came in handy when freeing herself.

Never ceased to let me know that I’m a “sick weirdo.” Consider this possibility.

Though toned and muscular, her skin is surprisingly soft. Weak to any kind of tickling.

Most effective tool: backscratchers

Has an airy laugh that is mostly gasps and wheezes; runs out of breath quickly.

Used the phrase “oh my god” more than any other subject studied so far. Offered up nonstop torrent of swearing, violent threats, and begging for mercy.

Jojo McDodd (Horton Hears A Who)

Most Ticklish Spots: Sides, Feet

Hates it. Becomes embarrassed and angry when tickled. Will frustratedly sulk rather than fight back or seek revenge.

Usually groans through teeth but can’t prevent the odd chuckle from slipping out. Skilled at holding his voice in. Press the matter further.

Involuntary reflex - noodly arm flailing if not restrained.

Very responsive to poking and light, fluttery touches.

Often depressed. His mother, Sally O’Malley (who, according to him, is also quite ticklish - investigate) used to tickle him in attempt to cheer him up, but abandoned this years ago upon realizing it bothered him.

When his younger sisters want to pester him, tickling is a go-to option.

Add. Notes: With their long, fuzzy, highly-animated fingers, natural mischievous mirth, and piano-playing aptitude, the Who species has evolved anatomy well-suited for tickling others.

Schell The Spacewitch (Yooka-Laylee)

Most Ticklish Spots: Belly, Armpits

Considers tickling to be her “one true weakness” - doesn’t hate it, but it renders her utterly incapacitated.

Has one of those hearty laughs that carries well over distances.

Feathers are very effective.

Will eagerly return the favor - once used feather tickling as an interrogation method on a fellow spacewitch.

Interplanetary adventures have put her in conflict with various alien plants and monsters, some of which accidentally tickled her with tongues or tentacles or the like - take samples for further lab testing.

Sphinx (Sphinx and the Cursed Mummy)

Most Ticklish Spots: Belly Button, Feet

The adventurous and heroic sort, he’s a little bit cocky….tickling is a good way to make him slightly less so.

A surprisingly effective technique is to tickle his stomach with his own tail. Good results.

He himself occasionally uses his tail this way to flirt with girls.

Not excessively ticklish, but ticklish enough. Will at least squirm and try to pull away.

Doesn’t show much strong emotion…more vaguely weirded out by this than anything else.

Pipirika (Magi: Adventure of Sinbad)

Most Ticklish Spots: Toes/Balls of Feet, Ribs, Inner Thighs

Unusual Ticklish Spots: Inner Elbow

Loud and rough, unrefined. But also very friendly, excitable, and loves to laugh.

Like all Imuchakk people, huge in stature and musculature. Between her large size and insistence on always going barefoot, she’s a tempting target.

If you ask if she’s ticklish, or for permission to tickle her, she’ll gladly say yes and volunteer with a big smile on her face.

That said, she frequently seems to find herself much more ticklish than she remembers.

She likes it but she’s a kicker. Hard to pin down and will not hold still. Tough restraints essential.

Will always seek playful vengeance or start a tickle brawl. Loves to tickle her brother and friends. Often giggles and laughs more than the people she tickles.

Hearty, rumbling belly laugh. Very cute.

Can’t keep a secret; will tell others if you like tickling. (Not out of malice - she thinks it’s hilarious.)

Fire (Adventurers: Masters of Time)

Most Ticklish Spots: Feet, Lower Tummy, Belly Button

Self-described as “a total tickler. You better watch out!”

Her default attack when trying to escape an enemy’s grip is to tickle them. Has done it more than once. It’s canon. So there.

Claims to have used her school’s time travel computer specifically to visit and “play tickle pranks” on famous historical figures. Seemed very excited by the multiversal capabilities of the Tower.

Spunky and playful. Very energetic. Tickle Talk: mean, merciless, and will make fun of her victims for being so ticklish and weak.

Apparently aware that her constantly-exposed belly invites tickling. Will dare others to start a tickle fight with her “because you’ll lose.”

Most vulnerable to rough tickles (especially brushes).

Always laughs wildly and tells her tickler to stop, but seems to enjoy it at less-intense levels.

Add. Notes: I like this girl. She could be very useful.

Saki Amamiya & Airan Jo (Sin & Punishment/Smash Bros.)

Most Ticklish Spots (Saki): Feet, Belly, Lower Ribcage

Most Ticklish Spots (Airan): Toes, Sides

Virtually inseparable couple. Could not tickle one without the other.

A highly skilled gymnast and gunner, Saki will jump out of his skin when tickled. Airan will lash out physically or curl up into a defensive ball.

Saki is the more ticklish of the two. He’s a live wire of sensitivity; a poke can cripple him. Has a high-pitched giggle.

Airan has a low, wailing laugh. Quickly tears up and complains about how much her tummy hurts when tickled.

Airan sometimes tickles Saki awake in the morning and teases him when he squirms.

Both hate being tickled: feel it’s a silly, embarrassing vulnerability.

Neither are particularly touchy/physical and never really tickle each other. Don’t think about it often.

Saki eventually develops Ruffian physiology after an experiment with his blood - effects of this on ticklishness unknown.

Tess Darrett (Pole Position)

Most Ticklish Spots: Arches, Armpits

Unusual Ticklish Spots: Upper Back, Under Chin

Rarely far separated from her stunt rally cars and spy technology. Exceptionally difficult to apprehend.

Resourceful and skilled in combat. Exercise caution.

Once captured by a criminal organization and interrogated with feathers to make her reveal the access codes to her stunt car computer AI, Wheels. Strong willpower - laughed and laughed but refused to talk.

Otherwise is only ever tickled by her younger sister Daisy (who reportedly is also very ticklish, and has also been interrogated to force her older siblings’ hands).

Not usually a tickler. Avoids going after her younger brother, because he’s not ticklish and would definitely get her back.

Typical sibling relationship: her brother used to pin her down and tickle her when they were kids. She hates it.

Add. Notes: If a woman who is deeply entrenched in the seedy underworld has big 70s/80s hair and often wears a jumpsuit, just assume that she’s tough but with a soft side and also very ticklish. (See also: Fujiko Mine, Carmen Boom, April O’Neil.)

Conclusions:

I might indeed be a sick weirdo. This merits further study.

Breaking character…yeah, IDK what the hell this is and I’m assuming none of you care. Just kinda wanted to blow off steam. I like weird characters that nobody else really cares about.

And why the hell do I even write some of my blog entries this way? Deliberately making things “less fun” seems kinda like a bad idea.

[diyeoracha]

IwaOi Fanfiction Masterlist with 90+ Works

Hello! In celebration accumulating over 290 bookmarks on my AO3 account featuring IwaOi, Haikyuu S4 part 2, and @haikyuuweek2020​ (Day 7 - Free Choice), I decided to create a masterlist of all of my favorite Iwaoi fics in order to keep myself organized as well as contributing to more traffic for those works! Works are split up into genres such as alternate universe (either not childhood friends or set on Earth), angst, canon compliant (post timeskip with spoilers), canon divergent (childhood friends but divergent timeline post timeskip), high school, and university au

Formatting update: Jan 13, 2021 (spacing is wonky on the mobile app!).

Fic update: Jan 7, 2021

This is incomplete as I got distracted while re-reading a lot of these and have only gone through half of my bookmarks, but feel free to check my own page here for the rest of them! I really do hope you guys enjoy reading these and leave comments and kudos! Please reblog and like so more people can enjoy

Titles marked with (♡) are my absolute favorites and there’s a chance I cried while reading them but otherwise they’re in alphabetical order

Alternate Universe

an allegory of all the things we could’ve been

Word count: 16k

Summary: “I don’t know anything about some red string,” Iwaizumi murmurs into the cracks of Oikawa’s skin, “or even about lifetimes or fate. But no matter where you are, I’ll find you. Gods or otherwise.” Reincarnation AU

And All the Prince’s Men

Word count: 65k

Summary: “Father only loves that which he owns, and I am the one thing that can never truly be his.” Royalty AU

Built a Temple in Me

Word count: 55k

Summary: Up the mossy mountain steps, past the komainu guardians and the faded red gate, and beyond the boundaries of the green shrine—that’s where the forest and the spirit world within it lies. That’s were Hajime met him, and where their story began.But intertwining of destinies can be ugly business, Hajime finds, when their first meeting begins with blood and the too-human eyes of a beast. God Oikawa AU

Quote: It fills his heart anyway, heals the hole in his chest that had been bleeding since he cut Tooru so forcibly from him.

Cotton Breathing

Word count: 13k

Summary: Long-distance and summer only but childhood friends AU

Conquering the Great King

Word count: 105k

Summary: Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

Quote: Oikawa's eyes twitched wide for less than a second, his knee pressed in hard against Iwaizumi's thigh, "I may be gorgeous, but I'm not a doll."

dear diary, i met a boy

Word count: 15k

Summary: Iwaizumi's first impression of his upstairs neighbor involves getting woken up at two in the morning to the sound of Oikawa singing along to trashy pop music. He'd thought it would get better, but it all just goes downhill from there. Modern AU

Desperado

Word count: 82k

Summary: Clearly Iwaizumi had a checkered past. Kyoutani has never asked about it, nor has Iwaizumi ever brought it up. He knows it’s a sore spot for his mentor, just like the gorgeous Monte Carlo he keeps hidden away is, so he leaves it alone. Out on the streets, you learn a little something about when to turn a blind eye in order to survive; Kyoutani knows better than most to leave the past of men like Iwaizumi well alone. Heist AU

Even Heroes (have the right to dream)

Word count: 20k

Summary: Oikawa Tooru, ace reporter of the superhero beat of Asahi Shimbun, hates superheroes. Or maybe he just hasn’t met the knight one yet. Superhero AU

♡Infinite Risks

Word count: 8k

Summary: “It’s my fate,” Oikawa responds slowly. He’s crying. “It’s too lonely,” Iwaizumi’s heart sounded broken. “And I’m not there with you. Not really.” Edge of Tomorrow AU

In Defense of Reptiles

Word count: 9k

Summary: In their seventh year, Oikawa is chosen to be the Hogwarts champion in the Triwizard Tournament, and Iwaizumi suffers. Harry Potter AU

Quote: “You are so spoiled,” Iwaizumi tells him, but lets him shuffle down until Iwaizumi’s hand is now running through Oikawa’s hair instead of rubbing his shoulder.

In the Telling

Word count: 6k

Summary: Muggleborn Iwaizumi could not be less impressed with pureblood Oikawa Tooru. Harry Potter AU

♡Lockdown

Word count: 72k

Summary: Within the first few months of his stay, Oikawa gets caught up in a war between cellblocks, becomes a prime target, and must decide just how far he's willing to go to protect Iwaizumi Hajime. Prison AU

♡long nights, no peace

Word count: 18k

Summary: It's the steady knowledge that Iwaizumi Hajime will always be someone that he can rely on, that no matter what the world throws at the two of them, they share in a piece of each other's soul. Pacific Rim AU

Quote: Quiet settles between them softly, like the warm pressure of the blanket, or Iwaizumi's fingers curling to lightly hold the fabric of Oikawa's shirt.

The Long Light

Word count: 36k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime's seventh year at Hogwarts begins, and begins, and begins, and begins. Somehow, Oikawa Tooru is always there. Harry Potter AU

Magic Man

Word count: 12k

Summary: Oikawa is named the most desirable wizard in France. Iwaizumi is not impressed. Harry Potter AU

Quote: You keep saying partner or them. Is it rude of me to ask you to clarify?

Meet me in the grey area

Word count: 24k

Summary: Set in a hero/villain AU with Iwa as our trusty hero and Oikawa as our charming villain

Saw You at the Fish Market

Word count: 14k

Summary: In other words, Oikawa befriends hot part-time worker Iwaizumi and tries to impress him both off and on the court, in hopes of more.

♡♡ (sing with me) A Song of Conquest and Fate

Word count: 26k

Summary: When Seijou receives a missive from Aobajousai to discuss a potential peace, its emperor Oikawa Tooru could not have foreseen the series of events that would follow. Historical fantasy AU

Similar Creatures

Word count: 53k

Summary: "What's your name?" "Whatever you want it to be."(Or, Oikawa gets directions from an attractive stranger on a street corner.). Escort AU

♡Something Like Us

Word count: 28k

Summary: Friends since childhood, Oikawa and Iwaizumi now live together, both playing for the National Team. It's no secret that athletes who are bonded perform better. So if the two of them happen to bond...It'd be for the good of the team, right? A/B/O AU

Space

Word count: 44k

Summary: Tries not to think of his rooftop garden, or the apartment he used to inhabit, or Hajime’s broken expression on the night they whispered their goodbyes before Tooru’s launch, attempting to push it all to the back of his mind behind visions of this alien world terraformed. Astronaut AU

Stop the Time

Word count: 10k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, E.R. nurse at University of Tokyo Hospital. Hospital AU

♡♡The Loyalty of A Traitor

Word count: 76k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime was an undercover officer with a single objective: Infiltrate the Seijoh Syndicate of the Yakuza and tear them down from the inside out. His primary target was the boss, Oikawa Tooru. The job itself was simple enough, until Iwaizumi got in too deep and absconded not only from the mission, but from the city itself. Yakuza AU

These Flowers I Stole For You

Word count: 3k

Summary: ANBU don't cry. They tear themselves apart, bit by bit, and then they stitch themselves whole again. Naruto AU

on shipwreck shore

Word count: 8k

Summary: “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and feed you to the basilisks,” Iwaizumi says conversationally. “You can’t do that, I’m your boss,” Oikawa sings, positively sparkling. “Also we’re partners, which means,” he points at Iwaizumi and leans in, “you’re stuck with me.” Detective AU

Page 305 of 304

Word count: 53k

Summary: “…she called you ‘papa’,” iwaizumi managed. oikawa just stared for a moment longer before relaxing in a smile. “yeah. cute, right? but you can call me ‘daddy’ if you want.”

Temporary fix

Word count: 12k

 Summary: “And you’ve shampooed his hair how many times now? Hmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.” A/B/O AU

Tokyo Boy

Word count: 16k

Summary: He has feelings for Iwaizumi Hajime, who probably has casual lovers just like him in every major city he visits on business. Oikawa is just his Tokyo Boy, just another pit-stop on Iwaizumi’s travels. Businessman AU

Trial by Fire

Word count: 78k

Summary: (lawyer!AU - in which Iwaizumi loves his objections, Oikawa is beautiful, and they have more chemistry than two opposing attorneys probably should.)

Watch Me

Word count: 32k

Summary: Oikawa's a cam model. It’s been a month since Iwaizumi first spoke in his chat. When they meet in person, things get complicated. Cam model AU

Angst

open when

Word count: 1k

Summary: Iwaizumi knew it was coming, but it still hurt. It still hurt when he opens one letter and drowns it in the tears he cannot keep at bay.

Chasing Paper Suns

Word count: 10k

Summary: Post-high school,     Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The     next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart

Quote: “ ‘it’s just—I’m     just trying so hard—’‘What, and I’m not?’

Timeless (We Have 30 Days)

Word count: 12k

Summary: Or AU where you're branded 50 days before you die. But Oikawa doesn't tell anyone so now there's only 30 days left.

the weight of water

Word count: 6k

Summary: “Again,” he says, the smallest tremor in his voice, and Oikawa blinks at him a moment before smiling, soft and sweet. “Iwa-chan,” he replies, and Iwaizumi closes his eyes. “Again.” “Iwa-chan.”

Canon Compliant

Are You Listening?

Word count: 4k

Summary: 30 times oikawa said i love you and 1 time he didn't have to

Quote: “Iwa-chan, watch out for the log—!” Oikawa looked on in horror as his best friend tripped and fell flat on his face.

Edge of the balcony

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwaizumi looks older, he realizes. Oikawa knew he had aged as well, and so did everyone around him, but the thing was when you see people often, you don't notice the subtle changes in appearance. And Oikawa hadn't seen Iwaizumi in four years.

How can this loser ever win

Word count: 2k

Summary: everyone is in stupid love with Iwaizumi Hajime and he has no idea

♡♡♡Lost in Translation

Word count: 9k

Summary: Because misfortune come in threes, Iwaizumi Hajime starts his Thursday having a screaming fight with Shittykawa, spends his lunch break listening to the UCI women's volleyball team gossiping about how Ushijima Wakatoshi had gone public about his longtime love affair with Oikawa Tooru, and closes out the day by drunkenly dropping his phone into a sewer grate.

maybe we could be enough

Word count: 9k

Summary: iwaizumi hums in reply as the car goes silent, frank ocean crooning from the speakers. they stop at a red light when iwaizumi feels eyes at the side of his face, and turns to look at oikawa.

Most people never even get a single high school rival

Word count: 5k

Summary: Team Argentina gets to know Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer.

Primavera

Word count: 8k

Summary: They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Quote: Did you know that distance is only me, growing towards you?

♡♡♡rest on your laurels

Word count: 4k

Summary: In Iwaizumi’s heart of hearts, untouched by time, they are young and alive, burning with the hearth of home and bright as winter light. Unbreakable. Invincible.

♡♡♡Something Borrowed

Word count: 16k

Summary: In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been a foregone conclusion to everyone else, but a massive, unanswered question to one another.

‘Til Infinity

Word count: 2k

Summary: “Hey,” he says, “that cloud looks kind of like a dick.”

Quote: “I got you ladybug”

♡♡♡ You Set Off a Dream In Me

Word count: 15k

Summary: In which Oikawa is 41 and ready to retire. He's at the top of his game and ready to find a new challenge. Turns out his new challenge is pretty familiar. It's high school, round 2.

Quote: A past with an Iwaizumi that wasn’t on the opposite side of the net, monsters on all sides, guiding a setter that had lived the dream left behind in the ruins of Tooru’s past self.

Canon Divergent

a world alone

Word count: 60k

Summary: Iwaizumi has his medical books on the musculoskeletal system. Oikawa has his research papers on parallel universes. It isn't until much, much later that they realize they have each other.

♡Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

Summary: Iwa-chan's leaving Kapan. Tooru's not sure he can forgive him, but he's not going to admit his long-held feelings, either. A trip to Miyajima complicates everything.

Quote: There are only two things that have ever broken Oikawa Tooru’s heart. Iwa-chan would say Tooru has no heart to break, but that’s simply untrue.

Count your blessings, it goes 1,2,3, me

Word count: 7k

Summary: He's unsettled by the undefined boundaries of their relationship so it's all his luck that he accidentally wins three wishes to be granted just for him, and all that comes to mind is Iwaizumi.

Quote: Now, as an adult, past convenience of circumstance and the haze of hormonal lust, exactly none of his feelings have worn off

♡♡♡the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

♡days fall away

Word count:17k

Summary: Except now he’s back home, so close to his old haunts and to Oikawa himself, and it's—weird.

Quote: “You and Tooru,” he begins, and then shrugs. “I was just thinking, you look at each other a lot.” And he walks away, leaving Hajime winded, and sort of aching, somewhere deep in his chest. Whatever that means.

♡here comes your man

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3 Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties. Doctor AU

♡♡In damp earth my body

Word count: 15k

Summary: Onscreen, the nation’s favorite setter has arranged himself so that he’s bowing, forehead pressed to the court, like he’s thanking everyone for their kindness thus far, like he’s asking for forgiveness. Hajime thinks: shit, it’s really happening

In the Business of Love

Word count: 22k

Summary: Meet Oikawa Tooru: He's a best-selling shoujo manga artist, a hardcore romantic and you won't believe where he's getting his lovey dovey fodder from...Enter Iwaizumi Hajime: He's Oikawa's best friend, a realist who also happens to be a wedding magazine writer despite not believing in romance...

Quote: A flare of pride lit in Oikawa as he watched Iwaizumi's eyes crinkle with mirth and in that yawning second, it bloomed into a warmth that bordered on a burn, forcing a bittersweet inhale.

it's been so long (nobody knows me the way you do)

Word count: 8k

Summary: Tooru hums, only half-listening. Somewhere along the way, Hajime’s palm has settled itself over the curve of Tooru’s cheek, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw.

Quote: Iwaizumi blushes even more. “That you’re here, I mean. I’m happy that you’re here. With me.”

♡♡♡Mint

Word count: 19k

Summary: It's the December after Iwaizumi’s last year in university when Tokyo welcomes him with a new ad campaign for Bright Days toothpaste, and Oikawa Tooru—fresh off a run at the 2016 Summer Olympics—has decided to grace the city with his signature grin, a flip of his wayfarer sunglasses, and the most irrepressible tag line for the signboard above.

Quote: "To be able to tell him, in the new year."  This comes under Oikawa's breath, so low that Matsukawa and Hanamaki can't hear, and the game continues.

Six-Month Lover

Word count: 89k

Summary: Iwaizumi barks out a laugh. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that you made a PowerPoint presentation about why we should date.” Oikawa doesn’t tell him the file has existed for the last twelve years, constantly receives updates, and that the original copy contained almost a hundred slides before he forced himself to get a grip.

Special Relativity

Word count: 22k

Summary: Time moves differently for people in different inertial reference frames. Oikawa goes on a two-year exploratory mission in space. Iwaizumi's been waiting for a lot longer than that.

♡♡sunset towns

Word count: 33k

Summary: In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

♡♡Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count:     19k

Summary: It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

Quote: Oikawa’s grin in  the last set of the morning’s game. Oikawa’s grin as they sat on their asses on a golf course. Oikawa’s grin when they were in college. When they were in high school. When they were twenty-two, seventeen, fifteen, twelve, six.

High School

Bet On It

Word count: 13k

Summary: Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

Quote: The whole instant-compliance thing was seriously creeping him out. Oikawa from a week ago would have made a crack about how if he'd wanted something cold, he could have just put his face on Hajime's shoulder.

Betweens

Word count: 2k

Summary: Iwaizumi is asleep in the club room. Oikawa is blindingly awake in the club room. The sun moves slowly across the sky, and Iwaizumi’s skin is gold underneath it. Oikawa watches the changing shadows on Iwaizumi’s face and thinks about nothing in particular.

Don’t think too much

Word count: 6k

Summary:  In which Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a confusing, drunken encounter and then deal with the (sticky) consequences.

Quote: As soon as that thought crossed his mind, though, Oikawa did what he always did:  exactly the opposite of what Hajime wanted

Gates

Word count: 12k

Summary: The day after their graduation ceremony, they drive to the beach at Shirahama. Iwaizumi drives, because it’s his car, and as he has told Oikawa on multiple occasions, he’d rather die than let him touch the wheel.

Quote: ‘Yeah,’ he says, because they’re on a beach, and they’re supposed to be on a metaphorical journey, and they’re supposed to be growing up, and completing rites of passage, so it’s honesty, today - just for today, at least.

♡♡i sing the body electric

Word count: 8k

Summary: It was never part of the plan, falling in love with his best friend, but then again, most things in Iwaizumi’s life that involve Oikawa rarely unfold the way he thinks they will.

Quote: But Iwaizumi thinks about Oikawa laughing with that girl in the low light of the gym, a particular kind of quiet intimacy that Iwaizumi’s only ever read about in books hovering in the air, and all it makes him feel is small and petty and spiteful.

it’s better than words

Word count: 3k

Summary: [ or : oikawa makes iwaizumi participate in three bonding activities for new friends, and iwaizumi just wants to know why oikawa's being so weird about this]

Make sure you cross the line

Word count: 4k

Summary: With graduation just around the corner, Iwaizumi knows he has to gather the courage to really ask Oikawa out.

Quote: He’s been asking Iwaizumi to go out with him every single day this past week, increasingly panicked about getting his time and attention now that they’re nearing the end of this season of their lives.

Only the jellyfish know

Word count: 6k

Summary: Their third and final year at Aoba Jousai has come to an end, and the guys decide to go to the beach the day after graduation. That day, the ocean water is salty, the watermelon is sweet, and the people are sweeter.

static

Word count: 6k

Summary: Being snowed in with all of Seijou volleyball in his childhood home brings back a lot of memories for Iwaizumi, because it's kinda Oikawa's childhood home too.

Quote: It's fate that brought them together and choice that keeps them that way. The closest description in Hajime’s vocabulary is partners, but only because Oikawa taught him what its true definition is.

Told before and told again

Word count: 3k

Summary: This is how Hajime and Tooru fall in love, through the accounts of those around them.

Quote: When Oikawa lets out a long, heavy breath, Iwaizumi looks up at him and frowns, and flings a towel over Oikawa’s head to cover his face. Then, he tugs, once, on Oikawa’s fingers, and leads him down the hallway, Oikawa walking quietly in tow.

♡we can do better than that

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

Quote: Because Iwaizumi’s known Oikawa nearly all his life and never felt anything more than vague affection usually followed by intense irritation for him. But then suddenly at eighteen years old and nearly two weeks into a very badly planned road trip, it’s like someone flipped a switch somewhere inside Iwaizumi

♡when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“ My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?” OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

reassemble it

Word count: 15k

Summary: When Tooru was six years old, he discovered—unbeknownst to him at the time—two of the most important things in his life: volleyball and Iwaizumi Hajime. It was ironic that he had stumbled upon them hand in hand—quite literally, too.

♡things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he's in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only a while.)

Quote: Iwaizumi’s expression right now is less terrified than it used to get back then, but he’s tight-lipped with concern, and his broad body blocks out other passengers as if their stares might be a danger to Tooru too.

University AU

An Archaeology of Affection

Word count: 23k

Summary: For Hajime, it is a riddle and simultaneously so evident. It fills his chest, surging like water, paints heat up his neck. In retrospect, it eats up his days, makes them its own until it feels like his heart has always been in his throat at the smile thrown over Oikawa’s shoulder, the stilling of his fingers on Hajime’s sleeve.

closure

Word count: 22k

Summary: In his first year of university, Oikawa builds a new friendship and upgrades an old one. Or: Ushijima is not a great wingman, but he tries his best.

Quote: “On the first day of his university career, Oikawa Tooru walks into his dorm, spots his assigned roommate, and turns one hundred and eighty degrees and walks right back out. He dials a familiar phone number - the first one he ever memorized - and starts complaining before Iwaizumi even gets the chance to say hello. “Iwa-chan,” he says, “tell me why Ushiwaka is in my dorm room.”

♡♡♡galaxies, within you

Word count: 21k

Summary: Hajime and Tooru move in together at the start of university. Too bad they’re stuck with the two gremlins that haunt their apartment.

Quote: I AM A HEADASS

Hands to yourself

Word count: 11k

Summary: He missed his parents, and he missed Takeru, and Takeru's badly behaved puppy. He missed Aoba Jousai, and he missed the volleyball team. He even missed Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, just a little.

Home, and how we made ours

Word count: 3k

Summary: “No, I like it here.” There’s a rustling as Iwaizumi shifts, inching closer. “I like it here, as in this crappy apartment—with you.”

Quote: “Do your fights end up being like—you know, about actual things and then extending into toddler days and suddenly you’re accusing Iwaizumi of kissing the girl you used to like in preschool?”

in progress to you

Word count: 6k

Summary: The eventuality of Oikawa and Iwaizumi falling toward each other is dramatically lackluster. Still, it's a process to go through.

Quote: “But what if you didn’t eat my pudding all the time?” Iwaizumi asks flatly, ignoring the way Oikawa is slapping his thigh to get out of his chokehold. “Do you think I buy them for you, huh? I buy them for me, you turd.”

Like we’re made of starlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: (a look into iwaizumi hajime’s journey of falling in love with oikawa tooru, from when they’re babies meeting for the first time to young adults moving in together.)

Ninety nine percent

Word count: 14k

Summary: more than anything, oikawa tooru wants to be with iwaizumi hajime, but he's only ninety nine percent of the way there.

Quote: Their ace was lining up for the ball, knees bent and arm pulled back, just as Tooru tosses the ball……to Hajime.

no sleep in the city

Word count: 7k

Summary: Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Quote: “I was only telling Hanamaki literally yesterday that your personality isn’t as vile as before,” Iwaizumi informs, slightly stiff from the way Oikawa’s got an arm looped through his own. “Why do you make me such a liar to people I care about?”

Out of nowhere

Word count: 8k

Summary: They move in together after graduation and it's doing weird things to Iwaizumi's heart. He's a little in denial about it.

Quote: Oikawa excitedly ran up to him when Iwaizumi came home with groceries the other day. Not about the food but just to say how boring everything is when Iwaizumi's not there, eyes shining, and he couldn't meet his gaze after from blushing down to his neck. He doesn't know how much more he can take.

♡♡shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

Quote: “I’m in love with you,” Oikawa tells him three days after they graduate junior high, head in his lap and hands gently folded over his chest and completely and totally unconcerned that he’d just shattered Hajime’s world.

Terpischore

Word count: 38k

Summary: They’d ended up going to different universities, Tooru and he. The distance was good for them. The confession Hajime dropped in both their laps wasn’t. That’s how it’d ended – a lifetime of friendship crumbled to dust in the space of five minutes. (Or, a lesson in learning to move on from things you can't have, in finding old loves in new ways and in understanding that life is never truly simple... till it is.)

terrarium

Word count: 11k

Summary: At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

these foolish things (remind me of you)

Word count: 3k

Summary: Oikawa helps Iwaizumi move into his new college dorm.

Quote: He’s desperate for something to happen. It must show on his face because Iwaizumi blushes and looks away. The thing is, Oikawa always looks at him like this when Iwaizumi isn’t paying attention.

They say it rains diamonds on Jupiter

Word count: 35k

Summary: "You're in love with him. "Hajime considers denying it. "Yeah," he says instead.

Quote: “Share the weight of your feelings with me, Hajime wants to beg when he hears Tooru's first hitched breath. Let me carry some of your burdens”

to be first, to be best

Word count: 26k

Summary: Hajime is apparently something of a masochist, and as he stares down at the tie-dyed AREA51 T-shirt in his hands, he thinks “I’m totally in love with this asshole, aren't I?”

Undecipherable

Word count: 4k

Summary: "Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

Quote: Because for all the bravado, for all the flaunting Oikawa does, he wants Hajime by his side, and no one else.

♡we shine like diamonds

Word count: 26k

Summary: "You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Where you are (I’ll be)

Word count: 6k

Summary: Theirs is a love that starts out like a seed and it takes two sets of hands tending it for a shoot to appear. There are no dramatic declarations of love, only a pair of hands that find each other again and again and again.

Quote: Oikawa broke off into giggles as Hajime slowed the descent of his hand from a slap to the back of Oikawa’s head to a gentle ruffle of the taller boy’s hair

♡♡with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Quote: He knows they’re too close. Iwaizumi knows it too, and they both decided to move in together anyway.

Your love is sunlight

Word count: 6k

Summary: It's Iwaizumi's birthday, and they have a talk about the future.

Quote: But Hajime doesn’t think any present could top this: them, kissing in a sun-dappled bathroom, Oikawa’s skin warm under his hands, and the promise of a life together stretched out before them.

[bulletballet-arch]

REALLY LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY. RULES. repost ,   don’t  reblog !    tag 10 ! good  luck ! TAGGED. I took this from Minnie’s archived Bioshock blog. I’ve been looking for this meme all this month. TAGGING. @hammurabicomplex. @bluuxriising. @ Me - for Sal on @bulletsoverbensonhurst​. @immaterialed (charlie) @soypeor (bella) @svmmercmance​. @mrflayed. and you!

BASICS. FULL  NAME :  Eve Delores Littlejohn NICKNAME : Evie, Little Evie (by her maternal side of the family), Delores, Didi NAME  MEANING / S  Eve is from the ancient Hebrew name  חַוָּה (Chawwah), which was derived from the Hebrew word חָוָה (chawah) meaning "to breathe" or the related word חָיָה (chayah) meaning "to live". Delores is a variant of Dolores, meaning "sorrows", taken from the Spanish title of the Virgin Mary María de los Dolores, meaning "Mary of Sorrows." Littlejohn is a surname that has historically been found in England and Scotland. With potential origins being either ‘to distinguish a beloved child that was not the eldest.’ Or, ‘a contradictory nickname for a large man.’ HISTORICAL  CONNECTION? : She’s named after her grandmother, Evelyn Hollins.

AGE : 42 BIRTHDAY :  June 2 ETHNIC  GROUP : Black-American. Meaning she’s mixed with a lot (Some of her relatives are respectively Creole and Italian) but uses Black as a catch-all term. NATIONALITY :  American LANGUAGE / S : English, Italian, Spanish, Latin, some French SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Bisexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Biromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Verse dependent, usually married -or connected- to Salvatore Scozzari in some way. CLASS : Upper-Class HOME  TOWN / AREA :   Brooklyn. Spent time between Bedford-Stuyvesant - with her paternal grandfather and Park Slope - with her maternal grandparents.  CURRENT  HOME : In her childhood home in Bedford-Stuyvesant. PROFESSION : Ballet Instructor. Former Professional Ballerina. ( Other verses see her as a professional thief. )

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Black. In terms of her natural hair, Eve has springy, 3C hair she seldom shows off because she was raised in a family where straightened hair was deemed presentable and professional.  EYES : Thin almond eyes. Dark brown. NOSE : Straight and small. FACE :  She has a prominent, high forehead, that’s accented with high cheekbones and a pointy chin. LIPS :  Full. COMPLEXION : She has a light brown (tawny) complexion.  SCARS : None major. TATTOOS : None. HEIGHT : 5′4″ BUILD : Eve has a slender build. One of those people who have been small and petite since childhood. Despite this, she also stays skinny because she is obsessively conscious of the food she consumes. The older she gets the more she weighs, however. USUAL HAIR STYLE :  Her hair is cut short. Reaching her shoulders in a neat, even bob. She either curls it in a retro fashion or curls the tips. For work she wears it in a traditional, pinned bun. USUAL FACE LOOK : In public, she appears stoic for the most part. Any emotion shown (such as the length of a smile) is carefully calculated. She has to seem perfect.  USUAL  CLOTHING : Form fitting dresses. Incredibly chic and fashionable for the time. Shoes include heels - never open-toed, unless she has on stockings. Extravagant earrings. Jewelry that can include either necklaces, crosses, pearls, or dainty rings. Prone to wearing black sunglasses in public.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Thunderstorms, airplanes, creatures like weasels, snakes and ferrets, break-ins, men she doesn’t know, harm coming to her children ASPIRATION / S :  Formerly wanted to become a major [black] ballerina in the elite world of ballet, now she just wants to expose more [inner city children] to dance through her job. Personally, she wants her children to change the world in some form or fashion, too. Eve also has good ideas on improving the community, but at the moment has no idea how to go about these ideas. POSITIVE  TRAITS :  Generous, compassionate, patient, protective NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Strict, sullen, hard to read, represses her emotions, secretive MBTI :  Advocate - INFJ-T ZODIAC :  Cancer TEMPERAMENT :  Melancholic ANIMALS :  Lioness VICE / S :  Pride & Lust FAITH : Christian. Grew up Baptist, but Catholic influences have been around her since childhood. Attended a Catholic High School in Park Slope, her grandmother Evelyn was also a practicing Catholic.  GHOSTS ? : Yes and no. She feels that objects formerly owned by the deceased posses the essence of their previous owners and that they essentially live on through these pieces of property. AFTERLIFE ? : Yes. REINCARNATION ? :  No, but it’s a romantic concept. ALIENS ? : No. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  Democratic ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :  She likes being where she’s at now. But honestly, being upper class is all she’s ever known. SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : Bourgeoisie, basically. The Littlejohn’s represent The Historical Black Elite.  EDUCATION  LEVEL : College level. FAMILY.

FATHER :  William ‘Bill’ Littlejohn MOTHER : Linda Littlejohn ( nee Hollins ) SIBLINGS : None EXTENDED  FAMILY : Amos Littlejohn (paternal grandfather) Liza Littlejohn (paternal grandmother) Evelyn Hollins (maternal grandmother) Giuseppe D’Aietti (maternal grandfather) and a wide host of cousins, aunts and uncles.

FAVOURITES. BOOK :  Night Song by Beverly Jenkins. The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Some sort of old, French erotic novel that was published before she was born. MOVIE : Eve watches films along the lines of...Waiting to Exhale, Beaches, The First Wives Club and Fatal Attraction. She loves Made-For-TV movies from the time period. In regards to plays, her favorite one is Sunday In The Park With George. 5  SONGS :  Meet Me On The Moon / Essence of Sapphire / No One In The World / People / The First Time I Saw Your Face  DEITY :  Persephone  HOLIDAY : New Years Eve, Christmas, Thanksgiving. Major holidays during the colder season. MONTH :  October SEASON :  Autumn PLACE :  The dance studio she works at. WEATHER : Sunny, but cool. SOUND : The voices of Anita Baker and Sarah Vaughn. A skilled hand running over piano keys. Soft trumpets. Running water. Cats making chipper little meows. SCENT / S :  Perfume, floral scented lotions, her partner’s cologne TASTE / S :  Caramel, the tang of dark chocolate, strawberries coated with either chocolate, or sprinkles of white sugar. Light Vinegar.  FEEL / S : Performing in front of an audience. Hot water engulfing your skin after a long day. Satin - whether it be the fabric of her clothes or sheets, your fingers tightly intertwined with another’s, feeling your significant other’s chest raise and lower against your skin with each breath they take. ANIMAL / S : Cocker Spaniels, Afghan Hounds, Cats, Birds - she loves all ( well, a majority ) of animals. NUMBER :  Doesn’t have one. COLOR :  White, Pink, Gold.

EXTRA. TALENTS :  Dance, Eve is trained in ballet when it comes to her main verse. She has attended ballet classes since the age of eight and ever since then she placed all of her focus into it. Similarly, Eve has always had the makings of a good artist - as a child she enjoyed drawing and had informal art lessons with a man who lived in the basement of her grandfather’s brownstone, but she never invested into that half of her. BAD AT : Singing, Being interviewed, Public Speaking (as in Speech Giving), Decision Making TURN  ONS :  Charisma, Leadership Skills, Temperature Play, Phone Sex, Heavy Kissing, Light Roleplay TURN  OFFS :  Public Sex, Tearing [ Her ] Clothes, Threesomes, Cruelty, Senseless Violence HOBBIES :  viewing plays & some musicals, reading romance novels, shopping, working out (she was into the whole celebrity VHS tape exercise trend), playing tennis, decorating AESTHETIC :  Vintage Black Glamour, Black Ballerinas, Champagne and Wine Glasses, Paintings by Melinda Byers and Edward 'Clay' Wright QUOTES :  "I'm bad with words, I hope you're good in reading eyes." / "There are truths I haven't even told God. And not even myself. I am a secret under the lock of seven keys."

FC INFO. MAIN  FC / S : Lynn Whitfield ( A Thin Line Between Love & Hate ) ALT  FC / S : Kylie Bunbury ( Twisted ) OLDER  FC / S :  Lynn Whitfield ( Greenleaf ) YOUNGER  FC / S : N/A VOICE  CLAIM / S : Lynn Whitfield

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?       A1 : Recently I decided that if/when I try to write anything serious about Eve again, it’ll center on her being a jewel thief because it presents me more fun, and emotionally diverse, opportunities. That and I have a very specific cover image in my mind. Ideally, her adventures would be a series of books. I have no title in mind, no idea about how ‘it would be filmed’ ( although a style replicating 90s films would be excellent, film grain and all. ) but, I do have a bunch of plots in mind that I really don’t feel like typing out here.  

Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?         A2 :  Her score would have a vintage sound (or a jazzy Spike Lee sound, if you will) with instrumentals by Dorothy Ashby (a Jazz Harpist) the Ahmad Jamal Trio, Pharaoh Sanders, Yusef Lateef and Tarika Blue. For music with lyrics, the soundtrack would include the likes of Julie London, Sarah Vaughn, Ella Fitzgerald, and Dionne Warwick.

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?   + Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ? A3 :  Whenever I make NPCs for my character’s lives I actually can’t just let them just be NPCs. I start thinking about them too much. Developing them too much. And then I’m like, ‘wow! I really like this character!’ Eve was a different character when I began writing her, and likely wouldn’t be considered the same character as she was previously, if I told someone in real life who knows about my writing (like my grandma) about all the changes she has undergone. Originally Delores was a university professor, because I thought it could lead to interesting interactions with college-age muses. And her previous history with the mafia was also something interesting to tap in. But then I started thinking about what was realistic, what wasn’t realistic, what did I feel comfortable/interested writing? What didn’t I feel comfortable/interested in writing?  So as time went on, things would alter about this character. And the new things I came up with attracted me more. 

Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.         A5 :  I have a love/hate relationship with Eve’s quiet demeanor. On one hand, I think quieter characters need love and the ability to be fully dimensional but on the other hand, writing louder characters has always been more fun for me. But really, Eve’s guarded behavior makes writing her stressful in some cases with others because sometimes...if I’m going to be honest...people don’t know how to carry a thread and interact with someone of her demeanor effectively. 

Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?       A6 : We’re both black, we’re both into art (although our exact interests and aesthetics with art differ)

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?         A7 : Realistically she would think I need to take better care of myself.

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions with ?   A8 :  We skippin’ this question.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?       A9 : Films such as, “Waiting to Exhale,” “The Kitchen” and “Widows.” Books by Alice Walker, like “The Third Life of Grange Copeland” as well as her short story, “Roselily.” The historical mob figure Stephanie St. Clair.

Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?       A10 : A few hours.