#Memorizing all the lines of every character. One time I muted the move from start to end and recited every line

[ahundredtimesover]

Something About You (07) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: friends au, vacation au, slow burn, romcom-ish vibe; adulting; inspired by AYS; PE teacher!JK and researcher!OC; fluff, comfort, smut

Chapter Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; semi-explicit smut that's not too smutty (m&f oral, condom talk, unprotected sex) (18+)

Word count: 21.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends for a decade. And while he’s the charming and dependable, often reserved boy-next-door, he’s also just been a friend - a constant in your life, a part of a whole, and someone who’s seen all the flawed and probably unattractive sides of you.

A resumption of your friend group’s out-of-town trips has caused you to spend more time with him. And somewhere in between the morning coffee in the forest, running around in the snow, and watching the sunset on a boat, he’s become something more. And you’re not quite sure how to deal with it.

🎶: Beautiful Soul by Jesse McCartney || Yes or No by Jungkook

A/N: Wrapping up this feel-good series! I'd hoped to gush about these episodes with you guys weekly but it is what it is, and I'm just happy for the people who tuned in and have and will enjoy this. I hope this story and these characters gave you a bit of joy.

Your eyes dart to the time on your laptop screen.

2:52 PM.

Jungkook will be arriving at your apartment soon for your scheduled 3PM drive to Busan but your meeting with your manager doesn’t seem like it’ll end in the next eight minutes. 

It’s Friday, and though you’re glad that she allowed you to adjust your hours today, you also wish she’d stick to the agenda and not add items to it because now, she’s briefing you about a new research proposal when you should just be talking about the one you’re currently working on.

“Yes, I’ll read more about that. So the one that’s due next week…” you say, trying to bring the conversation back to its original purpose. “I worked on the budget with the procurement team with regards to the service provider fees. Do you have any comments about it?”

She asks if they’ve been vetted and you answer that you did your due diligence and that the quotes and sample works are in the attachment you sent her. You’re discussing the other line items when Jungkook opens the door - having already memorized your lock code - and you gesture to him that you’re still on a call. 

He gives a thumbs up to say it’s okay, and he gestures to the clothes he’s holding to say that he’ll just change while waiting for you to finish. You nod in response, expecting he’d head to your bathroom, only for him to strip in the middle of your living room, as you can see from your periphery. 

You hold in your surprised look and curse him internally for teasing you like this. 

But not wanting to miss out on the view, you move your laptop towards the right and adjust your seat so you can have a good look at him. You’re met with a muted incredulous laugh followed by a cheeky smile, as he now stands several feet from you in just his black Calvin Klein underwear. 

It’s a shame you’re not close enough to admire every detail of him looking like that, but you have the rest of the weekend to do so. The thought of what the next three days will bring sends chills down your spine.

Your eyes alternate from the screen to your boyfriend, who’s now replaced his running shorts and sports jacket with black trousers, a  loose-fit white tank top, and a blue cardigan. You bite your lip to hold in a smile and your manager fortunately doesn’t notice. 

She finally realizes that it’s past 3PM and apologizes for holding you up, especially since you started the day much earlier than usual just so you can accommodate the four-hour trip you’ll be making. 

“This is great work as always, ___,” she beams. “I’ll let you go now and I’ll see you on Tuesday. Enjoy your cousin’s wedding!”

“Thank you,” you say, bidding her goodbye.

You close your laptop, officially switching off for the weekend, then frown at Jungkook as he walks over to you. 

He chuckles as he bends down to kiss your lips while you remain seated. You give in as you always do, and the groan you’re about to let out is replaced with a moan when he swipes his tongue in your mouth and gently cups your cheek.

He pulls away and boops your nose before standing straight up.

“How rude of you to dress up in front of me like that,” you scowl at him.

“And how naughty of you to watch me while you’re on a call with your manager like that,” he bites back.

“You’re so annoying,” you huff, even as you hug him and immediately fall into his arms. 

“Sorry, just wanted to tease,” he admits. “I know my body drives you crazy.”

You pinch his stomach and pull away.

“Were you ever this cocky?” You chuckle. 

“Nah. It’s a trait I developed just in the last two months. It’s all your fault since you react the way you do,” he smirks. “But don’t worry, we’ve got this weekend.”

“We do,” you say, biting your lip at the anticipation of what’s in store.

Of course, there’s Seokjin and Hayoung’s wedding tomorrow afternoon in Busan and the intimate yacht party right after. There’s also seeing Taehyung who flew back for a few days for the celebration. There’s the luxury hotel with all its fancy amenities that you’ll definitely take advantage of. There’s seeing both your families and meeting them as a couple this time. And then there’s staying over at Jungkook’s house on Sunday. There’s lots to look forward to and you can’t wait to get started. 

“So… am I gonna see you dress up, too?” Jungkook smiles.

“Sucks for you, I’m already wearing this,” you shrug, saying you’d planned on leaving right as he arrived but your meeting extended you so now you really should get going.

He whines only a little then follows you as you walk towards your luggage.

“Do you have everything packed already? Dress, the right underwear, heels, makeup, evening bag?” He asks, making sure you didn’t forget anything or else it’ll ruin your weekend.

“Yup, I’ve got— oh shit, my bathing suits!”

You scurry to your closet and get a few pairs, knowing that Jungkook would want to swim as much as he can. And while you could watch him for hours, joining him wouldn’t be bad.

“Can’t forget those,” he hums. 

Once you’ve got everything packed, you turn towards him to signal that you’re ready, and he heads out your door with you right behind him.

Going on a long drive alone with Jungkook is not a rare thing; it’s something you’ve done a few times just this past year. And so there’s this familiarity you feel - there’s talking about your day, a lot of teasing, smacking his chest, video calling with your friends, and sipping iced coffee and feeding each other the cookies you bought at a drive-thru.  

But there are new things, too, like holding his hand and placing it on your thigh for him to caress. There’s shamelessly ogling him and telling him how handsome he looks in his outfit and him admitting that he wears the tank top because of how much you like it. There’s kissing him when you’re at the stoplight, and him suggesting driving to an emergency stop so he could kiss you back properly.

And then there’s talking about other couple things, like meeting your respective parents as each other’s partners this time. 

You’ve met each other’s families several times before so it’s nothing new. Your parents know him as the athlete and the teacher and the one you describe as everyone’s go-to person. You’re known to his parents by your profession, too, as well as being the clumsy girl who freaks out when holding a knife and often hurts herself.

“Kook, they probably think I’m useless,” you pout. 

“They also know you as the other smart friend,” he says. “They remember that you got an award during graduation. That’s not being useless, babe.”

“Yeah but I mean, you know, domestic stuff,” you say softly. “All I know to do is wash dishes. That’s the only thing I can do when I stay over on Sunday.”

Jungkook understands what you mean and immediately appeases you.

“They’re not of that traditional mindset so you don’t have to worry. My mom’s cooking isn’t the best, too,” he laughs. “My parents just taught me and my brother  how to be independent and then we could look out for those who—”

“Are helpless?”

“Who need a bit more help,” he corrects you. “You’re not even that bad. You know how to feed yourself.”

“Yeah, very basic food that only requires less than five steps to make. Or anything I can cook in the air fryer,” you laugh at yourself mockingly. “I don’t know how to make things fancy or delicious like you.”

“Well, basic things help you survive so that doesn’t make you helpless. Plus, you now have a boyfriend who makes the fancy and delicious food for you,” he winks. “Makes it difficult for you to let go of me, yeah?”

“Hey, I like you either way,” you pout at him. “Though I admit that the cooking skills definitely help.”

“Good. I’ll just keep making delicious things for you, then,” he smiles. 

“You are good at taking care of me,” you nod. “I don’t really know what I—”

“You listen to me,” he interjects before you say what he thinks you’re gonna say, which is that you don’t take care of him the way he does with you.

He could already sense your faraway eyes and knew that your mind would travel elsewhere again, and to places he doesn’t want it to go to. He hopes you never doubt yourself in your relationship because there’s really so much that you do for him, and he’s worried that he doesn’t tell you enough.

“You listen to my worries. You create a space for me to talk about them,” he continues. “And you give good advice. That’s taking care of someone, too, you know? Because if my mind’s a mess, how would I function?”

“That’s true,” you finally smile.

It takes you back to last Saturday and how you both spent the day at your apartment because he didn’t feel like doing much. He talked about an issue he had with a senior teacher and some other concerns about his students. You just listened to him and shared your thoughts while he laid on your lap, and he told you the next day that he felt better. 

Safety, friendship, and intimacy are needs after all, and you suppose they’re what you’re able to give him. 

“I told my parents that I’ve been confiding in you and that it’s been easier to do that since we got together,” he adds, wanting to make sure you don’t feel unworthy when meeting them again. “And they know you watch my students’ matches and they think that’s really sweet.”

“Well, I don’t feel that worried meeting them as your girlfriend anymore,” you giggle, appreciating what he’s doing. 

He’s just always known how you are and how to calm your mind. 

“You shouldn’t. They already like you,” he smiles.

“And my parents already like you, too,” you say. “I’ve told them how you give me massages and piggyback rides and how you cook for me. I mean, not like they have anyone to compare it to but… I guess that says a lot, too, doesn’t it?”

“So does that mean they’ve never met your exes?”

“Just over video call but that doesn’t really count,” you shrug. “There wasn’t really time to see them and I was a bit shy. I’m so babied in my family and they’re also a bit chaotic and I wasn’t ready for my exes to deal with all that.”

“Well, you kinda have no choice but to introduce me now because of the wedding.”

“True. I still would’ve though. But I’m also really excited,” you say as you caress his hand. “They’ll see that I got someone really good.”

“You think they’d expected Tae or Jimin as the friend you’d end up with and not me? They like the guys a lot,” he remarks, remembering your calls to your parents in the past and how they lovingly greeted your friends. 

“Not really. They’re just more familiar with those two,” you explain. “When they’d call me during college and I was crying out of stress, Tae or Jimin would be with me so they knew how much the guys took care of me then.”

“Yeah, and I wasn’t there,” Jungkook says regrettably.

“Because you were stressed, too! Just like Mo-eum because you both took difficult courses,” you reason. “You know I’ll always be thankful for how our relationship happened, right? And that includes our friendship. We were there for each other whenever we could.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I just… don’t want them to wish it was someone else with you since you’ve got other good guys around you.”

“Well, I’m with you. I don’t think I can have anyone better,” you smile.

You lean over for a kiss on his cheek and this appeases him. 

You’ve already been on a call with your family a few times since you started dating Jungkook, which is about two months ago. It may seem too soon but you don’t recall feeling this kind of joy and desire before. 

Maybe because you let yourself settle into it first for those first few weeks and when you found out he reciprocated your feelings, it was just that natural for the emotions to intensify again. 

Your parents already like him. They think that being a teacher requires a kind of dedication and patience that you need in your life, and you know they’re right. 

But that’s just one part of him. Outside of what he does, he’s kind and tender-hearted and enjoys what life has to offer. It hasn’t been long but you’re already experiencing more of those sides of him as well.

You’re looking forward to seeing them see you with him; you’re certain they’ll see how different it is this time, too.

You get through the four-hour ride with more laughter and stories. There’s silence in between those, too, and neither you nor Jungkook minds. Your voices are just replaced with soft touches and tender smiles and those are enough just the same. 

You finally arrive in the hotel in Busan and make your way to reception to check-in. You meet Jimin and Mo-eum there who have just arrived, and you all leave your things at the concierge so you can proceed to the restaurant for the pre-wedding dinner.

You head to the table where all your friends are and excitedly greet them, hugging Taehyung tightly as you miss him terribly already. 

It’s like you’ve all been spoiled this past year. Jeju wasn’t too long ago and now you're out of town again. It’s different this time because of the purpose of your trip and the fact that you’ll be experiencing luxury this weekend, a far cry from the outdoors and homey vibes of the previous months. 

You get to relax and feel regal, enjoy the amenities, eat fancy food, and savor the view of the ocean from your bedroom. You almost wish you could afford to stay an extra day or so but staying at Jungkook’s family home is definitely the better choice. 

While waiting for Seokjin and Hayoung, you take the time to greet the other guests who made it tonight. Your and Jungkook’s families will be arriving tomorrow before the ceremony so you take him with you when you greet your cousin’s parents. Having known your friend group for years, they tell you how happy they are that you ended up with one of them, too, just like their daughter. 

You return to your seats and enjoy dinner with your friends. The food boasts of familiar flavors presented in new and delicate ways. You have fun with how you eat them and join Jungkook in raving about how delicious it is. You drink champagne and inhale the dessert that when it’s all over, you feel full and satisfied.

“So, jacuzzi in half an hour?” Jimin pitches to the group. 

Taehyung had booked the hot tub for after hours, and the five of you got excited at having the space all to yourselves. The rest of your friends agree to join. Even if they won’t be dipping, they won’t pass up on drinks with a view tonight. It’s literally Seokjin’s and Hayoung’s last hurrah with all of you so they say they’ll follow later on. 

As is the tradition, you book a suite to house the five of you. This time, however, it’s pretty clear who’s sleeping with who. 

You and Jungkook enter the room with the queen-sized bed and you turn to him excitedly. He picks up the hint of desire in your eyes and he pulls you in, his hands on your waist now as he admires how you look in your floral dress.

“What are you thinking tonight, huh?” He smirks.

“Hmm, nothing… Just a big comfy bed, a nice shower, a stunning view… A few things we could enjoy,” you say, playing it coolly.

“Yes… if you’re awake,” he teases. 

“Hey,” you smack his chest. 

“I’m kidding,” he laughs, kissing your cheek. “I’m just saying that I know you’re tired from today. If you fall asleep early, that’s okay. You should get rest because we have a full day tomorrow.”

“I know. I’m actually already sleepy,” you laugh. “But I want to take advantage of this fancy room with you.”

“We will,” he smiles. “Come on, let’s get changed.”

You both put on your swimsuits and head out to the common room. It’s spacious and boasts of a floor-to-ceiling glass window that lets you see the still ocean and city lights from outside. The five of you take a shot of tequila that Jimin brought with him then bring that to the jacuzzi room several floors above.

It’s not the best weather for a hot tub. It’s warm as it normally is for the middle of summer. But there’s something about being in a private area on the 20th floor of a fancy hotel with bottles of champagne and whiskey and plates of food that makes it perfect for tonight. There’s soft music playing and given the size of the tub, everyone decides to join in. Even Yoongi.

From the hot water, to the jets on your legs and back, and to Jungkook massaging your neck and shoulders, you feel totally relaxed. There’s laughter all around, even more when you all rehash memories of Seokjin and Hayoung over the years. 

There’s commentary from all your ends, too, especially from the older ones who’d witnessed their relationship up close. The couple shares their favorite moments from the past six years, too, like when they first said I love you and how they made up after their first big fight.

It reminds you that there’s still a lot to learn even when you’re already in a relationship. It’s something Hayoung has talked to you about, as someone who understands what you’re experiencing. It may seem all good and easy because you think you know the other person so well already after being friends for many years but romantic relationships bring their own challenges; no couple is immune from those. 

But like she said, it’s the strong friendship she has with Seokjin that allowed them to get through them. It’s a good foundation, she told you. Being able to just talk about things openly, being comfortable and honest, and trusting that they want the best for each other have become natural, and those have been their keys to making it work.

They’re good advice, as you think that you and Jungkook are still in the honeymoon stage. One day, you know the hardships will come. Maybe you’ll have to readjust to each other all over again or witness the births of new versions of yourselves, just like he’d told you before. 

But deep inside, they’re challenges you welcome because you know they’ll make you better together and you truly want to make this work, a change that you took note of early on. Plus, you genuinely like Jungkook - not just as your boyfriend or your friend but as a person. You truly admire and think the world of him, so whatever you’ll face, you’d willingly go through them with him, as long as you get to keep him around.  

You don’t think you’d do that just with anybody. 

“You okay, babe?” He nudges your shoulder as he notices you gaze at him again. 

“Yes. Just thinking about how much I like you,” you smile at him.

Jungkook smiles back, as he’s already used to you being like this just two months in. He’s usually a lot more reserved and moderated when it comes to expressing his feelings, as he tends to just feel them, whereas you’re more vocal about yours. 

There have been days when he’d see you stressed or frustrated at work but you’d sit on his lap, hug him, and tell him that having him next to you already makes you feel better. There’s this vulnerability in your honesty, and it’s something he’s witnessing up close. 

While you’ve told him you admire him for just doing whatever he wants, he thinks you’re just as admirable for feeling whatever you want and there’s so much strength in that. He realizes he might not tell you this enough.

“She’s so cheesy, isn’t she?” Jimin’s voice cuts through his thoughts, as the man - who’d heard your little exchange - approaches both of you. 

“She is,” Jungkook hums as he pulls you between his legs and wraps his arms around you. “It’s pretty cute. Was she always like this?”

“Nah. Not in front of us, at least,” Jimin shakes his head. “I guess it makes sense because we weren’t the biggest fans of her exes.”

You laugh at the dig, which you don’t mind; Taehyung and Jimin have valid reasons. 

“Hmm, I don’t think I was this cheesy,” you confirm. “I think I’m like this because Jungkook and I have had conversations before, hoping that the other person would find someone good for them to be with and look, it’s us!”

It’s quite serendipitous in its own way, you think.

The three of you giggle and Jungkook tightens his hold around you.

“I’m glad it was you,” he whispers in your ear,  prompting you to lean against his chest at the feeling of floating because of his words.

“He’s so affectionate, too, huh?” Jimin smirks now. 

“Oh, he is,” you giggle again, as you think back to how tightly he hugs you when you sleep and how he likes to pull you back to him when you wake up. “Has he always been like this?” 

You’ve obviously seen Jungkook with his girlfriends and you don’t recall him being this touchy. You wonder if he’s like that even if he’s just with the guys.

“Not at all, not even with his girlfriend in high school or the one during the summer before college started,” Jimin laughs. “I know he’s clingy behind closed doors though. At least that’s what he says.”

“Oh, he is,” you exclaim, earning you a cheeky laugh from the man in front of you.

The man behind you groans though, but now he wraps his legs around you, too. You feel the giddiness at knowing he doesn’t want to hold back when it comes to his affection towards you. 

Jimin watches his two best friends with such tenderness. He has a different relationship with both of you - he’s gentle with Jungkook whereas he gives you tough love. 

But he knows sincerity when he sees it, and after seeing both of you go through your respective relationships, Jimin can tell that it’s very different this time. You’re both more in control over your feelings even if you don’t hold them back. Perhaps it’s the maturity at this stage in your lives or maybe, it’s really just about finding and choosing to be the right person for each other. 

Your best friend’s eyes glimmer and you see the smile behind them. And cheeky as he may be sometimes, you’re glad he made that comment to you months ago that got you paying attention to your feelings and that ultimately got you Jungkook.

The night goes on with a few more drinks and laughter with your friends. Whenever you and Jungkook separate, there’s always a moment where your eyes meet and you share a smile. There’s that assurance even until now, reminding you of this past year and how you’d be apart and somehow you’d find him looking out for you.

You end before midnight and head to your respective rooms. You and Jungkook take turns washing up in the bathroom and staying in the common area with your friends. With a bit to drink and a long day tomorrow, you all decide to head to bed.

“Goodnight!” Jimin calls out to you. “Don’t break the lamp or something.”

You stick your tongue at him before entering your room. Jungkook pulls you by the waist. He flushes you against his chest and tucks his head in your neck.

“It’s a fair comment, though,” he hums, referring to what Jimin had said. “I mean, you did break my humidifier.”

“Yah!” You smack his arm that’s wrapped around you. “I didn’t break it. It fell.”

“Sure, babe,” he giggles. “It totally fell out of nowhere when it was sitting right in the middle of my bedside table.”

You groan in agreement, conceding now because that may have been what actually happened. It was two weeks ago and Jungkook was yapping about it the next morning while you were on a call with your friends and they pieced things together. They’ve been teasing you ever since. 

“Uh, you were the one shoving your frikkin dick inside me!” You defend, turning around now to face him. 

“Uh, you were the one telling me not to stop,” he counters. 

“You’re annoying when you’re cocky,” you frown at him. “No kisses for you.”

“Hey! I’m just stating facts,” he laughs. 

But you pull away from his hold to tease and lay on your side of the bed. The soft sheets and thick covers instantly make you feel like you’re being swallowed by clouds; you could fall asleep any minute. 

“K,” you hum under your breath, your eyes fluttering close.

“Are you sleeping on me?” He gasps. 

“The bed feels so good, Kook,” you moan as you stretch your limbs. “I’m gonna fall asleep soon so get your ass in bed now.”

“So impatient,” he bites back with a smile. 

He removes his shirt then switches off the lamp. Your eyes follow him when he does, and you’re thankful for the sliver of light from outside that allows you to appreciate his body. You’d done that during your time at the hot tub earlier and you think you’ll keep doing that; your reaction will probably be the same every time, too.

He finally lies in bed but you’re the one who sits up now. You take your shirt off, something he’s used to you doing by now, and he returns the fond way you’re looking at him. 

Even when he’s annoyingly cheeky, his body pretty much shuts you up, and he knows this. Your body does the same to him. You laugh in unison because both of you have come to know each other like that.

You bend down to kiss him, not at all able to resist. It’s soft and gentle, as the exhaustion from today continues to weigh you down. But even then, his tongue explores deeper, and you’re hypnotized by the way it does that your body moves on its own. 

You’re on top of him before you know it - your legs on his sides, your one hand softly pulling his hair and the other, grazing his bare chest. And your clothed cunt, rhythmically grinding against his slowly hardening member. His fingers trace patterns on your back, leaving you moaning in his ear. 

And also yawning. You think it’s out of pleasure though.

Jungkook chuckles as you pull away, hovering over him with your dazed eyes. You yawn another time, and your face tenses as you try to hold it in. He can tell there’s more you want to do but he also knows you’re very, very sleepy. 

“Hey, go to sleep now,” he whispers.

“But—”

You’re interrupted by another yawn, causing him to giggle once more. 

“Babe, it’s okay. I want to keep going but I’m sleepy, too,” he assures you. “We’ve had a long day and I’d rather have you awake when we swim in the morning than do anything else tonight. Yeah?”

You pout at him before nodding. You did promise him you’d swim with him in the early hours tomorrow. 

He helps lay you back down and pulls the covers over you. He smiles while watching you slowly retreat into dreamland, soft hums and a small smile escaping you as his fingers continue to trace your body. He briefly cups your breast and he knows you like it. You’ve told him a few times that the drawn out pleasure helps you fall asleep and this is one way he does it without tiring you out further.

He presses soft kisses down your jaw then your neck and your body reacts again. You caress his head as he trails south, and you moan his name. He might’ve gone a bit too far so he goes back up and gives you a final kiss on the lips.

“We’ll sleep now,” he hums.

He lays on his side and pulls you close to him, your back flushed against his chest now and his leg wrapped around you. Your hand finds his and your fingers intertwine. 

It’s intimate, and even with your hair all over his face, he likes this because he gets to hold you tight. It also ensures that you don’t hit anything, including his face. 

He laughs at the thought. It’s something he’d gladly get used to though. And he finds that it’s easy - to adjust, to move around and alongside you, and to settle into you even more.

 You wake up to soft kisses on your cheek the next morning. You moan under your breath, wanting more of those but also wishing you have more time to sleep. You knocked out once you closed your eyes last night and you feel like you didn’t move at all.

Which, of course, isn't true. When you open your eyes, you find yourself sprawled in the middle of the bed and the giver of your kisses is standing next to it, chuckling at you. 

“Good morning, princess,” he greets. “Come on, let’s go swimming.”

You look at him with your sleepy eyes and hope for a bit of compassion. Perhaps five minutes more. Or 20. 

And he sees right through you.

“You can sleep longer, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I can go ahead before it gets crowded. Is that okay?”

“No, I told you I’d go with you,” you mumble.

You did say you’d do this with him, especially after he let you drag him to your Pilates session last week. He decided then that he’d definitely stick to the sports he knows and that won’t get his limbs all tangled while hanging in the air. You reason that his body is just a little too fit for the machine and you may be right.

“Okay then,” he says as he changes into his swim shorts. 

“Why do you have so much energy?” You ask, stretching your arms and legs around the bed now. “It’s barely 7:30.”

“I just came from a jog by the beach. The wind was really nice and cool.”

“Oh, good,” you nod, appeased that he gets to do the things he enjoys doing when he’s in his hometown. 

He returns to standing next to the bed and you lift your leg for him to massage. Your legs have been a bit sore after this week’s intense Pilates workout. He starts kneading your calf and it feels so good that you could fall asleep again. 

“Yah! We have to make it to breakfast at 9 before we prepare for the wedding,” he reminds you. “Come on. I’ll be wet and half naked. I know how much you like that.”

You frown at his teasing even if it’s pretty much a given at this point. But he’s started to enjoy it a little bit more after your friends exposed you to him. They shared more details of how you were during your Jeju trip, specifically about your ogling whenever he went swimming. 

It flusters you even if you’re actually able to just admire his body and touch and kiss it whenever you like. Perhaps there are still remnants of disbelief over how you never bothered about it before. Years of going on beach and lake trips, watching him flex his biceps, and commenting on his abs to tease him never made you look twice nor longer than a few seconds.

Now, you can’t get enough of it. 

You curl yourself in bed, urging him to convince you a bit more. 

Instead of kissing you, he starts tickling your foot, causing you to squeal. 

“Jeon Jungkook, you brat!” You groan as you try to kick his hand away and flail your arms while still lying in bed. “You’re gonna regret this.”

Your words don’t have bite in them, but still, he stops and pulls you towards the edge of the bed. He cups your cheeks and peppers your face with soft kisses until you’re finally smiling. 

“Happy?” He cocks an eyebrow.

You giggle and nod.

“So can we go now?”

“Yes,” you playfully roll your eyes then head for the bathroom. 

You change into your swimsuit then you both exit the room. Out in the common area, Jimin and Taehyung are waiting to leave, too. 

“So early and already getting freaky,” your best friend smirks. “Hope you didn’t break anything.”

“He was tickling my foot!” You explain; they definitely heard you squealing. 

“Ooh, he’s relentless with that,” Taehyung shakes his head as he understands your plight. 

He’s been on the receiving end of that, after all. 

You eye your friends who are in their active gear as well. Taehyung will do a morning workout while Jimin is dragging Mo-eum to go for a run.

“Are you sure about that?” You ask your best friend. “You know she’ll stop once she sees a plot of land to find four-leaf clovers.”

“I know, but she promised she'd match my pace,” Jimin shrugs. “She just didn’t wanna be the only one not doing anything physical today.”

“She technically won't be. I mean, I don’t think that watching your boyfriend swim counts as physical,” you hum.

“Are you sure about that?” Jimin cocks his eyebrow. “Your heart rate literally heightens just seeing him in swim shorts.”

Jungkook chuckles because he can attest to that. Sometimes you also just completely zone out. 

You groan because you also agree. You turn to the man next to you with a pout. 

“You’re not good for my health.”

Jungkook just laughs even harder and your friends join him. You do sound ridiculous.

But he thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the world. You already expressed concern about ogling him too much in front of his family, not wanting them to think you’re a little too much for their son, but he assured you that they’d feel proud you think so highly of their genes. 

With you being shameless in front of your friends, he sees even more just how unfiltered and honest you are about your feelings towards him, and it makes him feel really good. 

He pinches your cheeks, endeared by how you look at him, until Mo-eum finally exits the bedroom and you all head out then separate to do your own thing.

You and Jungkook find yourselves on the 7th floor this time to swim in the infinity pool. You stand in awe as you look at the scenery of stunning landscape against tall buildings that line the vast ocean. It’s definitely a lot more urban than Jeju but it offers a different kind of tranquility that you feel you can only get from here. 

You now understand why Jungkook was insistent on swimming despite your tight schedule. It’s truly breathtaking, especially with the clear skies and cool breeze embracing you. He even passed up on sexy time last night just so you wouldn’t be too tired for an early wake up call.

He sighs in relief as he stands next to you, no doubt admiring his surroundings just as you are. 

“Such perfect weather,” he hums as he removes his shirt. “I haven’t had a proper swim outdoors in so long.”

“Well, get going then,” you turn to him, eyeing him up and down while trying your best to keep your cool. “There are barely any people so you won’t be disturbed.”

“Hey, you said you’d join me,” he pouts. 

“And I will, after you do your laps,” you smile, knowing that he needs to do those before doing any leisure swimming. “I’ll have a good view from the lounge chairs here. And then a closer look later on when I’m in there with you. I’ll soak up the sun first before getting in the water. It’s more refreshing that way.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “Don’t bail on me, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” you smile. 

“And uh, try not to drool too much.”

He’s running to the one end of the pool before you could respond. But you watch him from a distance exchange words with the lifeguard on duty then turn to your direction to give you a cheeky wink before he dives in the pool. 

Your annoyance at how he’s been enjoying teasing you quickly dies down once you watch him glide in the water. He’s so graceful, as he does butterfly strokes so effortlessly, his broad shoulders and taut arms doing most of the work that you can see, but you know his thighs are working overtime, too. 

Your eyes follow his every move and he’s so captivating like this, especially with the sun glistening on his honeyed skin. You don’t doubt the kind of career he would’ve had if he pursued the sport. You’re sure he would’ve excelled and made it to the national team if he wanted to - he’s just that good, and it’s something that others have said about him, too. 

But then again, you wouldn’t have met him if he went to a different university, and that’s a thought that terrifies you. Maybe you’d still meet him at a chance encounter if the universe willed it, but you think the way you ended up together is exactly how things should’ve happened. 

He returns to where he started and half his body emerges in the water. He turns to you with a smile and a thumbs up. You return the gesture and make a show of cheering for him, earning you a chuckle. 

He does a few laps of freestyle while you settle in the lounge chair. You still have a good view of him but you’re able to do so comfortably now with a little less lust and a lot more admiration. 

By the time he’s doing backstrokes, you’ve moved to the stairs where you’re already in your bathing suit, ready to join him. He swims towards you and walks up the steps, your eyes now following the water that’s dripping down his torso. 

“I didn’t drool,” you tell him proudly. 

He playfully shakes his head and chuckles. 

“Cute,” he hums. 

He reaches out his hand and pulls you towards the water, and once you submerge yourself in it, you moan quietly at how refreshing it feels. You quickly swim towards the other side and lay your arms over the edge to get a better look at the view. 

You sigh in relief at how beautiful it is, even more with Jungkook beside you who has a bit of sparkle in his eyes. He grew up not far from here, and he shared during the drive how his family would often head to Haeundae beach on a weekend. He’d enjoy it despite how busy it could get. This is his childhood, and you’re glad that you get to share in this moment with him.

“You know Kook, I was just thinking earlier that if you chose to do this professionally, you would’ve been such a star, skills-wise and looks-wise,” you say as you turn towards him. 

“Yeah?” He cocks his eyebrow. 

“Totally. And then I imagined you being part of the swim or water polo olympic team and showing up on TV with your wild abs and sweet smile and social media would explode with edits and thirst tweets about you and then you’d be invited to variety shows and be on magazines and get endorsements,” you ramble. “Imagine if you decided to pursue that now? I’d be the kind of girlfriend who’d be cheering so loudly during your matches and maybe trash talking your opponents.”

He laughs at the last sentence but he thinks you’re not wrong. 

“I think you’ll be the type to have a burner account and reply to tweets criticizing me,” he hums.

“Oh, I’d do it on a burner and my personal account,” you state. “Imagine how much I could shut them up?”

“You could,” he laughs. “But they’re also either paid to do that, or are bots and aren’t real people.”

“And then I’d hire hackers to find those shits and message their parents and expose them online,” you continue, disregarding what he said. Your face distorts in anger at the thought that he’d get any hate if he really did pursue a different career path. “I mean, who in their right mind would criticize you?!”

“You’ll never know,” he shrugs. “People always find something to complain about other people they don’t know. But hey, it’s a good thing neither of us have to deal with that, right?”

“True. We live such humble and unproblematic lives away from prying eyes,” you nod. “But… have you ever thought about it? About the kind of life you would’ve lived if you decided to take swimming seriously?”

“Hmm, not really. It’s not like being part of the Olympic team was assured, anyway,” he reasons. “And it just… stopped being a dream. Once I started teaching, I was sure I wasn’t gonna regret doing it. Somehow I just knew that’s what I was meant to do, you know? Plus, it meant going to our university, meeting the friends I’d have for life, and getting together with you. I’d choose those in any lifetime.”

You smile at his words, knowing that it’s not just him being sweet or flattering you; they’re his most sincere thoughts. But you’re glad you made it to the top three things that make his current life worthwhile, knowing that he could be living a totally different one had he chosen to study somewhere else. 

You think it’d still be a good one though - he’d be doing something he loves and he’d be making amazing friends since you think he just naturally attracts good people. Maybe he’d be dating someone who deserves him, too. 

But this is the one he’s living now and considering how much you’re a part of it, you think it’s pretty good. It makes you think of the billion choices a person makes in their life. We never know if they’re right or wrong but we stand by them, and they make us who we are. 

You wonder if you chose to join your sister in her art classes after school instead of reading your textbooks while waiting for her to finish, would you have been less studious? And would that have made you less inclined to be a researcher? Then maybe you wouldn’t be living the life you have now, and there’s a chance you wouldn’t have Jungkook in it, and—

A kiss on your lips disturbs your thoughts, and Jungkook’s soft eyes look back at you when you look at him questioningly.

“Whatever it was you were thinking, just know I’m glad I’m with you the way I am right now,” he says.

He probably already sensed your mind going elsewhere as it always does and instead of asking you where it went, he chooses to assure you about what you mean to him. And it’s exactly what you need.

You hug him in response and ease your mind back into the present with pecks on his cheek. He’s who you should be focusing on right now, so you foolishly suggest a race between you two just for fun even if you know you’re no match for him. You secretly like it when he’s a bit cocky.

Jungkook laughs but agrees to your 20-second early start. He leans his back against the edge, endeared by your movements and the fact that you’re freestyling diagonally, before he starts swimming to eventually beat you. 

You feel like you’ve been at it for so long and you pause, thinking that you’re only a few meters away from the end, only to learn that you’re just past halfway, and Jungkook is already on the other side, laughing at you. 

But instead of teasing even more, he urges you to keep going, cheering you on as if you’re competing at a tournament. So you do. 

You keep swimming that you don’t realize you’re at the end, and you hit your head on the wall because you arrogantly chose not to wear the goggles that Jungkook advised you to use. 

“Oh babe,” he chuckles as he swims towards you, and it’s now you realize that you started swimming sideways somewhere along the way. 

He cradles your head in his arms before turning you to face him. 

“You’re always hitting your head when you’re around me.”

You know he’s alluding to that boat incident in Jeju, something that he occasionally teases you about, especially after you gave him a lowdown of the thoughts that plagued your mind during that afternoon. 

You pout at him in response to his smug face, and he scrunches his nose in endearment. Then he pulls you in a hug and kisses the top of your head that you just hit. He thinks you could’ve gone another few hundred meters, and you’re really not as out of shape the way you say you are. 

The fact that you’re able to swim the entire length of this massive pool already says a lot even if you’re a bit out of breath. He knows you’re neutral about swimming - it doesn’t excite you as much but you don’t mind it. 

Waking up early to join him already makes him feel good, even if he knows you prefer just watching him do his thing, but even that makes him feel hot all over. He’s not sure when he’ll get used to your reactions to him and he’s noticed you try to temper it. He hopes you never do, though, and it’s not for his ego or anything; he just likes being the cause of your intense emotions and desire. 

You and Jungkook spend the next 15 minutes leisurely swimming about before lounging on the chairs to dry up. But then he orders a burger then decides to go for one last lap, with you whining that he’s gonna drip all the way to your room and you don’t have time for him to dry up all over again.

He insists that it’ll be fine, and while he does leave some droplets in the elevators all the way to your bedroom, he manages to not make much of a mess. 

Your friends are back, too, and they’re all taking turns in their shared bathroom to wash up before heading for the breakfast buffet. Jungkook hints at joining you in your shower, but you put up a strong front and say no.

“Kook, the last time we took a bath together, we took up an hour,” you remind him. “It’ll take us longer together than if we did it separately.”

“Well…” he smirks at you, clearly reminiscing about that time and the different ways he took you in the shower.

You were in Gangwon for a field visit one weekend and decided to spend the night, and after telling him, Jungkook took the train to meet you so he could spend it with you. The bathrooms in your apartments aren’t spacious enough for you two, but the one in the hotel you stayed at was. You ended up requesting a late checkout the next day because you took a bath longer than you should have, just like the night before.

Much as the thought excites you - somehow he looks even hotter when he’s wet from a shower - you’ll be pressed for time. You don’t want to end up stressing the rest of the day just because you were horny.

“Tonight,” you promise him as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“And if you’re too tired and end up falling asleep again?” He cocks his eyebrow.

“I won’t!” You try to convince him. “I want to make the most out of our last night here because we are definitely not gonna be able to do as much once we’re at your parents’ house.”

“Well, we could always just book a room in a less fancy place for our last night,” he suggests.

“Kook, your parents invited us. They sounded really excited,” you remind him. 

“They are,” he smiles now. “They asked me for your favorite food yesterday because they were in the market. I said you’re easily satisfied like me. They also cleaned my room and dusted all my awards because they wanted to brag about me to you.”

“Ugh, they’re so cute,” you groan, your cuteness aggression now extending to Jungkook’s parents because they truly are adorable. 

He smiles and kisses your forehead. He knew that suggesting taking a bath together would push it but it was worth a try. He’s not upset one bit; just being with you in his hometown is enough to make him happy. And like you said, there’s always tonight. The last time you and your friends had a night out, you were unable to resist him and ended up confessing your feelings. 

“Go take a shower,” he says now. “I’ll just mentally prepare myself to meet your family again.”

“It’s my nieces and nephews you have to be worried about,” you warn him. “Once they find out what you do for a living, they’re not gonna leave your side.”

Jungkook laughs and says he’ll prepare for that, too. Seokjin had mentioned that not long ago. The kids have grown up and are never out of energy. They recently got into sports, too, and are in that phase where they wanna try and learn everything. It’s good for their development for sure, but that just means constantly asking your family and extended family members to play tag or whatever else their creative minds could think of. 

But he’s ready for that. He’s got your family to impress and an athletic image to uphold. He also just really wants to see you smile because that’s what you do when those kids are happy.

“I’ll make sure to stretch before meeting them, then.”

You giggle before entering the bathroom, knowing that Jungkook doing prep work before meeting your nieces and nephews might be a bit too much. 

You savor your bath time and run today’s schedule in your head for the nth time. It’s all straightforward but you want to make sure you get to properly celebrate with your family and friends. You wipe yourself dry and call out to Jungkook to let him know that he can start in the shower while you do your skincare but you’re left with no response.

You wonder if he’d left the bedroom so you open the door, only to find him doing pushups next to your bed.

“Oh. You were serious…” you say, as your eyes take their time in watching your boyfriend push himself off the floor, with his taut arms and broad back hypnotizing you. 

“It’s the last part of my workout,” he informs you, as he stands up and wiggles his eyebrows at your staring. “I do this all the time. But I did stretch earlier so I’m now physically ready.”

You burst into laughter. “Kook, they may have so much energy but they’re still just kids.”

“You forget that I work with kids. Half an hour with the year ones and I’m already spent,” he reminds you. “Plus, Seokjin told me about that one time he and Hayoung took them to a kid’s cafe and he gave up 15 minutes in. He said they kept going from one game to another and he got so tired that he fell asleep in the sandpit.”

“True. I mean, they’re gonna need a new victim since Seokjin will be busy tonight,” you hum. “You’re actually the one with the most patience.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then. Finish your stretching then take a shower.”

“Will do now,” he says. 

He hums under the gush of water while you fix up at the nearby vanity. He walks over to you soaking wet, and you groan at him for drenching the floor again.

“Just wanted to remind you what you missed out on,” he smirks, as he wipes himself dry beside you. 

“I pride myself in having self-control, excuse you,” you bite back. 

“Alright. Let’s see about that later,” he laughs mockingly before walking out, clearly still teasing you as he doesn’t even wrap himself with the towel. 

It’s just his toned ass and delicious thighs, slowly disappearing from view.

You pout at yourself in the mirror but then again, not like there’s anything to complain about.

He returns to your side in his boxers now and starts putting on moisturizer. Wanting to always hit him back, you remark that the bathrobe is too heavy so you remove it, leaving you the one completely naked this time. 

Jungkook doesn’t react for the first five seconds. But once he finishes putting lotion on his arms, he immediately stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. It’s kisses on your back and torso before you know it, and you squeal in an attempt to reprimand him, but even he knows you’re enjoying it. 

“What’s the point of not taking a shower together if you’re just gonna do this anyway?” You whine.

“The point is that we’re dry.”

“That does not make any sense,” you groan, as you watch him continue to kiss you while you remain unmoving.

You eventually concede though, because anytime Jungkook expresses his desire for you like this, you can’t help but feel warmth. Which is actually quite comforting.

“Okay now I’m starving. For actual food,” he says. “Let’s go!”

Both of you finally get dressed and walk with Jimin, Taehyung, and Mo-eum to the hotel restaurant. The rest of your friends have already taken their seats, so you join them and pick your spots. 

Namjoon and Hoseok apparently worked out this morning, too, and when you ask Yoongi if he’d just gotten out of bed, he nonchalantly says that he and Gyu-rim went for a coffee run earlier. He blinks rapidly right after then quickly looks away before saying that he’ll just get more of the noodle soup at the buffet table. Gyu-rim excuses herself to go to the comfort room and heads the opposite direction.

You and your friends look at them then at each other, curious as to what might’ve happened. 

“Okay, it’s either they confessed during their little coffee date or one of them almost did then chickened out so now it’s awkward,” Jimin suspects. 

“It’s highly likely that’s Yoongi because he only ever gets cold feet when it comes to Gyu-rim,” Hoseok fondly says. 

“What’s there to be nervous about?” You say. “It’s Gyu-rim, she–” 

You pause, as nine pairs of eyes look at you questioningly. You’re unsure if Gyu-rim told anyone else about her feelings for Yoongi and you don’t want to do it for her.

“She’s so chill, you know?” You say instead. “Nothing really fazes her.”

“You can say the same for Yoongi but not when it comes to Gyu-rim,” Seokjin hums. “I mean, I’d know.”

Seokjin would, and that’s either because Yoongi’s his best friend, or he knows exactly what Yoongi’s feeling because it’s probably the same as what he felt. But you don’t push and instead let Namjoon remind everyone to not meddle. It’s always more exciting that way, he reminds you all, even if it could also get frustrating.

You continue with your two plates of food as Yoongi returns followed by Gyu-rim. It’s not long after when Seokjin and Hayoung excuse themselves to start getting ready. Your older friends and Taehyung follow soon after to help them, so you’re left with Jimin, Jungkook, and Mo-eum who continue talking about the other potential relationship in your group.

You watch in entertainment as Jimin and Mo-eum bounce off their observations, and you remark that this is what they were probably doing behind your and Jungkook’s backs. 

“Oh, totally. We’d even do it while you’re in the bathroom or something and then change topics when you return,” Mo-eum hums as she chews on her rice cake. “Like, remember when you were whining the weekend after Jeju because Kook got tasked to chaperone for a school trip so he couldn’t go to your apartment?”

“Oh god,” you shake your head, and you all quickly get into narrating how your respective conversations went.

It’s funny in hindsight, knowing now that Jungkook was missing you the way you were missing him. You still felt upset that time, though, and you don’t want to feel that frustration ever again. 

You finally finish your meal and head to the lobby to meet your family who just arrived from your town in Gwangju. They’ll be checking in early, and you wanted to make sure they were settled first before you started preparing yourself. 

It’s warm greetings when you see your parents and they excitedly hug Jimin and Mo-eum. When it’s Jungkook’s turn, your mother beams even more, and she engulfs him in her arms and sighs, as if in relief.

“Oh, Jungkook. What a lucky woman our daughter is,” she smiles. “We won’t ever have to worry about her starving or not eating delicious food.”

“Ah, well, she’s not hard to please,” Jungkook chuckles, earning him a pout from you. “But I’m… I’m just glad I get to take care of her.”

“What a sweet man,” your mother gushes, and you nudge her and warn not to scare him away. “She needs that. She’s too busy saving the world and has to be reminded to look after herself, too.”

“She does,” Jungkook smiles. “But she’s been doing well in that regard. It helps when you’ve got good people around you.”

“Of course,” your father says now. “You’re all so lucky you have each other. And that both of you ended up together. Seriously, it’s such a relief. You’ll understand it if you become a father - you’re constantly praying that your children find good and responsible partners that they’ll spend their lives with and so there’s this nervousness every time they introduce someone. We’re lucky that her siblings found them and well, you’re the first one that ___ has properly introduced as her boyfriend and we’re just relieved that it’s someone like you. We adore your parents, too, so whew, no in-law drama and–”

“As you can tell, I got the rambling genes from him,” you interject, earning you laughter from your friends, especially Jungkook who scrunches his nose in entertainment. 

“Not obvious at all,” Jungkook chuckles. 

But your father’s smile softens and this means a lot to you, too. Your parents were never the type to pressure you into getting married right away, only because you established early on that your career is very, very important to you. Finding a partner is something that could be delayed, or even given up if it was your choice. 

But it doesn’t mean that they don’t hope that you find someone who would accept you for all that you are, including your dreams for yourself, because they do. It’s something they tell your siblings, which they tell you, so you’re glad you can appease your parents this time.

Jungkook is the type you’d proudly introduce to your family. Even if he can get a bit shy sometimes, like now, as his hand searches yours once they ask him about work and other things. You adore your parents; they could just get a little overwhelming sometimes. You suppose it runs in the blood.

You thumb his hand in assurance, and he seems to calm down a bit once he talks about his students and what he teaches them based on the year level. He also talks about the extra-curricular activities he organizes for the school. It’s something he’s proud about but he doesn’t get to always talk about it this way, so you’re glad he’s able to share this with your parents. You suppose they have more reason to want to get to know him like this and you don’t mind, not when they seem really impressed, too. 

Your chat is interrupted with the front desk staff saying that their rooms are ready and your nieces and nephews entering the lobby after playing in the playground right outside. Your brothers already look tired and it’s not even lunch time. 

You say your goodbyes for now as they head to their rooms and you return to yours. You and Mo-eum hog your bathroom so you both could do your makeup while Jimin and Jungkook play video games outside, even with your constant reminder for them to get ready soon.

You get dressed with Mo-eum in your bedroom then let Jungkook in so he could dress up, too. His breath visibly hitches at the sight of you, and you shyly smile in response. 

But there’s nothing to be nervous about, not when you look the way you do in your sweetheart gown. He’s seen you in formal looks many times before but not like this, and not since he started liking you, which he reminds himself was barely a year ago. There are still so many things that will feel new or different this time around despite having known each other for so long. 

And that includes seeing you look so stunning that he can’t help but sigh in amazement. 

“How do I look?” you ask, turning around to show him the entirety of the dress, which also happens to be low-back.

He doesn’t really have the right words for it, but he takes your hand and kisses it. 

“You look really good,” he says under his breath. 

You settle with a nod, unable to control your smile with how visibly affected he is, especially as he pulls you closer and softly kisses your bare shoulder. That itself leaves goosebumps on your skin; you can’t wait to know how it’ll feel later on.

You turn towards the closet to hand him his clothes this time. You help him when you can, and you learn that Jungkook, too, looks breathtaking in formal wear, especially with his thin necktie and the white dress shirt that beautifully hugs his toned upper body. 

He heads to the bathroom to style his hair while you attempt to put on your heels, and not only are you unsuccessful, you’re also left speechless once Jungkook appears before you. It’s the slightly parted hair, you think. You decide that this slick, confident style is the mature look; you’d take this over his leather jacket any day. 

“How do I look?” He dares ask, as if your ogling doesn’t say enough. 

“Do you want the G-rated answer or the X-rated one?”  

He laughs in response, truly never ready for what you have to say. 

“Hmm, what about you tell me the G-rated version now,” he hums as he bends down to help you buckle your heels, “and then you can show me the X-rated answer tonight?”

“I can do that,” you smirk, slightly lifting your dress to show a bit of leg as he finishes with your shoes. 

He helps you stand up and you fix his necktie before smiling at him.

“You look so handsome, Kook. Seriously. I might have to pull you away from the kids if they hog you later.”

“Hey, I’m gonna need to be in their good graces, too,” he chuckles. “But I’ll just be near you, okay?”

“I was just teasing. I think,” you say. “But hey, it’s Seokjin and Hayoung’s wedding. We have to enjoy it. Don’t worry too much about my family because they already like you.”

“As if you’re not wanting to impress my parents, too,” he teases.

“Oh god yeah. Please make sure I don’t do anything stupid in front of them,” you start to panic. “I might ramble about your amazing genes and how they conceived you so perfectly.”

He laughs again.

“Well, they won’t be at the yacht party so you can let loose then. Just don’t… hit your head or anything again, yeah?”

You playfully roll your eyes before opening the door and he follows behind. You smile at Jimin in his adorable bowtie and Mo-eum in her classy strapless dress and ask for their help to make sure that you don’t embarrass yourself in front of Jungkook’s parents.

“Hmm, I don’t think they’d mind if you do,” Jimin hums as you all walk down the hallway. “I think it’ll assure them that you’re not presenting yourself to be someone perfect for their son, only to end up betraying him.”

You sigh at the thought.

“And hey. Kook really, really and I mean, really likes you. That’s the only thing that matters to them.”

The four of you separate once you arrive at the 15th floor. Jungkook and the guys head to Seokjin’s room while you and Mo-eum squeal once you enter Hayoung’s suite. She’s already made up and there are several more photos taken before she gets into her dress, which Gyu-rim and Suhyeon help her wear. 

It’s not long before you go to another room on a different floor where Seokjin and Hayoung finally see each other. It’s also where their families will greet them before the ceremony starts.  

There are lots of tears and so much squealing throughout the whole hour that it happens. Seokjin’s rich family members are mostly humble and have a good sense of humor whereas your entire clan is a little too energetic. It’s definitely not balanced out but you end up laughing for most of it because there’s always a joke or remark that makes it through the crowd. 

But you see Seokjin always turns to Hayoung, his eyes softening as he watches his bride enjoy the moment just like he is, just like how he always tells her to. There’s so much trust and promise in the way he looks at her, and it’s the kind that’s built over time. It may seem a bit too early but you hope you and Jungkook get to that point one day.

“They’re so cute,” Jungkook whispers in your ear amidst all the chatter. “Who would have thought that the corniest guy in the world could have the softest smile?”

“Well, he’s looking at the love of his life,” you say. “That’s reserved for only her.”

Jungkook nods in agreement and looks at his friends. Behind all the jokes and the contagious laughter is a man who’s truly so in love, and Jungkook is happy he gets to witness it. 

Your time eventually comes to an end and you’re all escorted to the large balcony where cocktails are being served while the bride and groom remain for more photos. You take one sip of champagne before handing it over to Mo-eum once you see Jungkook’s parents, who happen to be talking to your parents, too.

They greet you with the warmest hugs and gush at how you look. You’re left feeling a bit flustered at the compliments and respond with the G-rated version of what you think of their son’s outfit. 

Both your parents have met each other many times and they talk just as any couple friends do. There’s a lot of praising each other’s kids and you thank the heavens that they get along early on. Jungkook’s parents even talk about your stay at their house tomorrow and your parents take this opportunity to invite the Jeons to your grandparents’ farm. You come up with possible dates and agree to firm up the plans in the coming weeks. 

Not long after, all the guests are asked to head inside the hall for the mid-afternoon ceremony, and you separate from your parents to sit at the round table with your friends at the front. 

As expected, the guests erupt in cheers and applause once the bride and groom are revealed behind the large doors. They look so perfect together, and you at least get to gush with your other cousins about how Hayoung copped herself a truly handsome guy when she proclaimed she was going to be a nun when she was a teenager. 

The vows end in tears, as Seokjin surprisingly goes into serious mode and expresses his most sincere emotions that surprises even his best friends. 

“This could've been left in a letter that I’d be reading to you tonight but I want everyone to know that I will love you in words, I will love you in action, and I will love you with every breath,” he says, as he wipes the corner of his eyes. “I’ll always be thankful to the chickens that chased you and had you yelling and laughing like crazy because that’s when I knew that I liked you. Your laughter changed my life, Hayoung. And I hope to never live a day without it.”

It’s a special moment you all share. It’s the first wedding in your friend group; they also happen to be the couple that you all look up to and seek comfort from. The emotions spill over to the speeches that Namjoon, Taehyung, Suhyeon, and Hayoung’s sister make. 

Before you know it, the newlyweds are walking out the hall for a change and you’re all buzzing from what just happened. The reception commences soon after, and it’s delicious food after delicious food that’s served that gets you and Jungkook jumping in your seats and moaning to yourselves. 

The socializing bit begins and you take the time to catch up with your other cousins. It’s midway through one conversation when you realize you haven’t seen Jungkook in a while. You look around the hall but eventually find him out the balcony, racing with your nieces and nephews. They squeal in disappointment when they lose and in excitement when they almost win, and while they take turns to go ahead, Jungkook’s the one who runs solo. 

“Five-minute break,” he yells, as he heaves while walking towards you.

You hand him a glass of water and chuckle at how he obviously is quite tired but is still willing to go a few rounds with the kids. 

“What have they asked you to do?” 

“Well, other than running, we’ve raced by hopping and jumping on one leg,” Jungkook answers. “They wanted to crawl, too, but I used the adult card for that one and said no.”

“They spend a lot of time outdoors so they come up with a bunch of different things,” you laugh, already used to them and their different games. 

“As they should,” Jungkook hums. “Which is why I’m going along with it. I mean, they’re at a wedding. It’s an event for adults. What else are they supposed to do?”

“Hmm, that’s true. But thanks for keeping them company,” you smile. “You deal with kids enough at work and now you’re doing that here, too.”

“Because it’s fun!” He beams. “Plus, So-you asked me if I’m your boyfriend because I keep kissing your cheek and she’s never seen anyone do that with you so she’s a little protective. I need her on my side.”

“She’s a little too smart for her own good. I told her once that I don’t really wanna have a boyfriend so she’s quite sus with me,” you laugh. “But she’ll come around. She loves the water so if you teach her how to swim, she’ll be impressed.”

“That’s already on tomorrow’s agenda,” Jungkook says. “One of your uncles told them I’m a swimmer and they got excited. They already told me to meet them at 9 sharp and that they’ll tell your parents if I don’t show up.”

“Bunch of brats. I love them so much,” you chuckle. “Well, there goes our Sunday morning.”

“At least it’s not too early. We can stay up tonight,” he smirks. 

“Well, we won’t if you’re the one who uses all his energy and falls asleep right away,” you point out.

“Oh, you know better than challenging me like that.”

You actually do, which is why you did. He’s gonna want to prove a point and he’s sexy when he does. You’re unsure if he’s caught on that you like challenging him so he’d do what you actually want him to, but he does it anyway. 

Before you could answer, Haneul is yelling that five minutes is up and that the jumping jacks race is about to start. Jungkook, truly wanting to prove himself to them, removes his suit and hands it over to you. 

You watch in amusement as he makes his way across the covered path, jumping up and down with his arms swinging over his head. The kids are shrieking while he heaves, but they cheer him on. At this point, some of them, tired from all the running and screaming, are already seated on the bench next to you, giggling.

“I don’t even know why Jungkook is doing this,” you chuckle as you watch him win the race. 

He’s not even letting them win as a courtesy.

“He’s in a competition with So-you,” Ha-yul says of her cousin.

“What competition?” You ask. 

Your 8-year old niece merely shrugs and wraps her arms around your waist and continues to watch on. Knowing her, she probably knows what they’re competing for but you don’t prod. Jungkook will probably tell you later.

You instead ask her about her family’s recent trip to Jeju and she beams with joy once she talks about the dolphins she saw swimming in the ocean.

“They look so magical, auntie. Even from afar,” she smiles. “Did you see them when you were there?”

The question sparks a memory. A very special one. 

“Yes, I did,” you gush, recalling how you wanted to hold Jungkook’s hand then because of the overwhelming beauty of nature and the exhilaration of accepting your feelings for him. “It was so pretty.”

“Did you see them with anyone?” She asks, looking up at you now.

“Yeah. I was with him,” you reply, gesturing towards the man who’s somehow ended up teaching the kids how to do a high kick.   

“Are you sure you were even looking at the dolphins?” 

You turn to Ha-yul with her doubtful eyes and crossed arms. 

“Yes, I was, you smarty-pants,” you chuckle, pinching her adorable cheeks. “Jungkook was the one who told me about them so we went to this spot to watch the sunrise and then the dolphins showed up right after.”

“Hmm. That’s very sweet,” she replies, slowly smiling. “I like him for you, auntie. He makes you smile a lot.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” You giggle, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks at the thought that even your niece can see it. “I like him for me, too.”

You eventually go back inside after feeling a bit hungry despite all the food you ate earlier. You yell for Jungkook to follow you, knowing he’d want to munch on something  after the series of physical activities he just did. Your nieces and nephews fortunately drain their energy and run towards the hall, too, and you overhear them tell their parents that “uncle Jungkook is so cool!”

You gush at him, knowing that he achieved his goal of impressing them, though you don’t think it would’ve been difficult. He’s natural with kids and you got to see that today. It’s even more special to you because they’re your family - people you love and adore, and it means so much that they accept him. 

Even your cousins seem to like him, too. One of them talks to Jungkook about teaching, another about swimming, and another about taekwondo. The conversations move to sports in general, and then video games, and then music and their favorite beer and whiskey brands. You leave them alone, not wanting to cling to Jungkook’s side the entire time. 

So you hang out with your siblings while your other friends stay nearby. By this time, the number of guests has started to dwindle. The ceremony and reception are long over but there’s still lots of food and drinks being served. The sunset yacht party for close friends and family will start soon, and you’re all just waiting for the go-signal to start heading to the port. 

You walk towards the bar for a glass of soda when you stop in your tracks at a sight that you didn’t think you’d see. There by the counter is Gyu-rim, giggling shyly and Yoongi, chuckling, too, while he pulls her close to him and whispers something in her ear. She laughs once more then their hands slowly move down, their fingers grazing before he places her hand firmly in his.

Your jaw drops and you blink multiple times to make sure it’s real. 

It is. And you seriously want to scream in excitement.

But you scurry back to your friends instead.

“Oh my, oh my, oh my,” you catch your breath. “It’s happening!”

“What’s happening!” Mo-eum rushes to you with a slice of cake in her hand. 

The rest of your friends slowly gather around you and you direct their sights to the bar where Yoongi and Gyu-rim are still definitely being all shy and affectionate.

“Who is it?” Jimin asks, squinting his eyes to try to see what has all of you gasping and freaking out.

“Gyu and Uncle!” You squeal at him. 

“What! Wait, I’m blind!” He groans.

And just as you’re about to tell your best friend to be subtle, he’s already off near the bar to get a closer look, and his own gasps alert the pair that you’re all onto them. 

But Yoongi just turns to your table and raises his glass in both confirmation and celebration.

And Gyu-rim just smiles. She’s no longer just doing it internally, that’s for sure.

They eventually walk towards your table and you can sense the restraint your friends have in bombarding them with questions. Except for Jimin.

“How! When!” He goes on. “I manifested this. I envisioned this. I prayed for this! When did you–”

“Coffee. This morning,” Yoongi answers. 

“So did you two just look at each other and then have a silent understanding of your feelings?” Taehyung wonders.

“Sorta,” Gyu-rim hums. “The distance between us just kept getting shorter and then he… uh, he just held my hand and I held it tighter and then we just… I guess, kinda knew.”

“How on brand,” you remark.

“Yeah, just like your confession,” Jungkook, who suddenly appears next to you, whispers in your ear.

“At least I confessed first,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Then why were you awkward during breakfast?” Mo-eum asks the pair.

“It was fresh,” Yoongi shrugs. “And we weren’t sure how to act without you guys freaking out.”

“We were still talking about you though,” Jimin informs him.

“I’m sure you started it,” Yoongi deadpans.

“Of course I did,” Jimin winks.

“So why now?” Taehyung asks. “What pushed you to finally confess?”

“I didn’t wanna waste any more time,” Yoongi sighs.

“And I couldn’t deny it any longer,” Gyu-rim pipes in.

“And well, I was thinking about those two,” Yoongi adds, his gaze turning to you and Jungkook now. “There are lots of things going on in our lives. I could be one serendipitous encounter away from letting her get away. I don’t really think I could live with that.”

“Gosh, our impact,” you whisper to Jungkook after softly smiling at the new couple. 

He just wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He’ll always be glad that things happened the way they did with both of you, and he’d go through a decade of friendship and periods of distance and confusion if it means having you like this.

You all continue to gush and talk about all that happened today until you’re told that you can now head to the port. You’re transported in coaches then you make your way to the large yacht where there’s more food and drinks, hanging lights, and a saxophonist serenading the minimal guests. 

There’s less squealing this time with the kids left behind in the hotel. It’s more relaxed now, as the many lounges offer so much space to enjoy the scenery, the almost cool air, and each other’s company. 

You and Jungkook constantly get separated, with your relatives pulling you over to them every five minutes. You can’t complain though, as you really don’t see them as much, but you also wish you could have more time to be with your boyfriend, perhaps hold his hand as you socialize, or gush at how he looks because he truly is so beautiful tonight. 

But somehow, you find your way to each other once the sun starts to set. Between the purple and orange sky, the calm waves, and the jazz music, it’s a moment that you’ll truly treasure, especially with Jungkook’s arms around you, his chin tucked in that space by your shoulder, humming in amazement.

You don’t really need words for this moment. You just pull him closer to you and kiss the side of his face when you can, an act of extreme fondness and desire that you could offer him right now.

The dancefloor opens up and Seokjin and Hayoung are the first to slow dance. People soon follow, including you and Jungkook, whose hands just don’t want to separate from you. You feel quite overwhelmed and opt to gently lay your head on his chest, wanting to feel his heartbeat and the full warmth of his arms around you. You know it’s where you’ll always want to be.

His soft kisses on your head give you a kind of assurance that’s quite emotional. It’s as if he knows how much you feel and how deep you’re thinking and he’s there, not quieting your mind but encouraging it. It’s acceptance and respect that you don’t think you’ve ever felt with anyone before.

The music turns lively not long after. The drinking continues, too, leaving some guests in a rather unfiltered and perhaps wild state, including your friends. 

There’s Jimin, Mo-eum, and Taehyung dancing around like always. There’s Hoseok with his now half unbuttoned dress shirt, not too subtly grinding with his girlfriend in the corner. 

Then there’s Namjoon, yelling “fuck the government” towards the ocean, and Yoongi has to remind him to tone it down because he’s part of the government, and well, he’s a future public figure so this behavior might not be a good look.

“I’m thinking of quitting my job, actually,” Namjoon admits. “I’ll just have my own podcast and name it ‘the professional yapper’ and talk about all the things that fuck us over. And crabs. I’d like to talk about crabs.”

“Who hurt you?” Gyu-rim asks.

“I… I’m drunk,” Namjoon heaves.

“We know,” several of you say in unison.

But this is when his body starts to shut down. After releasing all his pent up anger, his energy drains and he gets sleepy. He doesn’t want to sit down, knowing he’d fall asleep and it’ll be difficult for anyone to carry him off the boat, so Jungkook stays by Namjoon’s side to make sure he doesn’t fall on the floor or into the water. 

It keeps your boyfriend away from you again though, as he follows the older man everywhere, even outside the bathroom. But you don’t mind. Jungkook’s taken care of your friends during times like this and you know he won’t stop just because of you. 

It’s already dark once the yacht returns to the port. It’s barely 10 PM but you’re full and exhausted. You’ve had a long day and you just want to have a nice bath like you promised Jungkook and well, do a lot more. 

Jimin, Mo-eum, and Taehyung don’t want their night to be over yet so they head to the hotel bar to eat and drink some more. They don’t miss the chance to tease you and Jungkook about having the suite all to yourselves though but you run with it. It’s not like your desire for each other is a secret or something you suppress when you’re with your friends.

So you and Jungkook head back to your floor and once he enters your bedroom, he immediately climbs on the foot of the bed and lies down. With his loosened tie, he undoes another button of his dress shirt and releases a deep exhale. 

Even you feel his tiredness from that one breath. 

You stand by the window and just watch him, his arms and legs straightened out and his eyes closed. You take the time to admire him like this. His body’s breathtaking even with clothes on, and you let the X-rated thoughts fill your mind.

He mistakes your hardened gaze for annoyance, as he apologizes for lying on the bed with his day clothes. It’s one of your biggest pet peeves, and you once had an argument because he was tired from work and wanted to cuddle but you wouldn’t let him stay next to you on your bed until he showered. It was more of a banter, really, but you did sense his frustration when he dragged himself to your bathroom then slept right after lying on your side. 

He sits up now and scoots to the edge of the bed.

“It’s okay, Kook. Rest there if you want to,” you assure him. “I don’t blame you, considering you were the cool uncle and the great friend tonight.”

“Those kids are relentless,” he chuckles. “And Joon is so heavy; it was a struggle getting him off the boat.”  

“Well, he has a lot of angst to release but I’m sure he’s glad you helped him.”

“Yeah, but that meant I didn’t get to be with you much today,” he pouts now. 

You smile at his sullen expression, as the realization that you spent much of the wedding being with other people hits him. Sure, you had dinner and the sunset viewing and that slow dance but with everything that happened today, it still doesn’t seem enough. 

So you walk towards him and slightly lift your dress so you could sit on his lap. He shifts you around so you’re snug against him and he smirks.

“So you’re not mad that I lied on the bed in day clothes?” 

“You were at the foot of it so it’s fine,” you wave him off. “That could be our compromise.”

“Okay then. So… will you show me the X-rated version of your thoughts now?”

You gaze at him - at his sparkling eyes and soft lips and chiseled jaw and think this view of him will always leave you breathless. The fact that you have this beautiful man wanting your attention blows your mind and you truly wish he’ll never get sick of you. 

You bite your lip and nod before kissing him deeply, not holding yourself back now since you’ve been wanting to do this all afternoon. He returns your eagerness and moans against your mouth. He grips your waist and pulls you closer to him in an effort to eliminate whatever distance is left, which is none. You’re chest to chest now but that still doesn’t feel close enough.

Soft moans fill the room and your pleasure continues to build, especially with Jungkook grazing his fingers down your semi-bare back before slowly pulling off the straps of your dress. It triggers something inside you, as you now fiddle with his necktie, desperate to get it off. 

You manage to untangle it and quickly undo the buttons of his shirt. He lets you do it on your own while his hands travel to the edge of the bed, and you feel him smile in the kiss that hasn’t stopped.

You finally remove his top then move to unbuckle his belt. Briefly pulling yourself from him, you eagerly undo his trousers and start pulling it off. He watches you from his seat on the bed while you bend down, and you cock your brow at his smug face. He looks like he’s really enjoying this.

“You letting me do all the work?” You tease. 

“For now.”

You know what that means. And that just gets you more worked up. So you immediately undress and watch him watch your every move until you’re back on his lap, both of you now completely naked.

Your kisses turn even more heated. His grip on your waist tightens, and your nails on his shoulders dig a little deeper. You catch your breath and let him kiss down your neck, his teeth merely grazing your flesh, leaving goosebumps on your skin.

Your hand travels south, too, until they reach his hardened dick and you’re overwhelmed with an even more intense desire for him and everything he is. 

You want him so bad, you think you’ll explode. 

Jungkook feels you grip his length and grunt as your tongue flicks his lips. This is usually your tell.

“Let me just get the co—”

“No,” you interject, pulling away as you look at him with now wondering eyes.

“I… uh—”

“Well, do you want it inside you, at least?” He asks, gesturing towards his member that you haven’t let go of.

“Yes, I just… I just want it naked. Is that okay?”

It takes a few seconds for it to fully register to him what exactly you mean.

“You’re asking me if I want to be inside you without a condom?” He asks incredulously. 

“Well, yeah. You said you’ve always used one,” you say. 

“It was a precaution for a bunch of things,” he reasons. “And well, given what happened with the last girl I dated, I’m glad I did. But you said you’ve always used one, too.”

“Same reason,” you shrug. “But I really, really like you, Kook. And you’re so hot. And I hate the taste of latex when I suck you after.”

“Those seem like valid reasons,” he chuckles. “You feel really good even when I wear one so it doesn’t matter as much.”

“Yeah but, I don’t wanna do this with doubts or hesitation,” you sigh. “And I don’t wanna gatekeep.”

“You don’t wanna gatekeep… your vagina?”

“Yes. You say it’s really good down there. You can have all of it.”

Jungkook laughs out of amusement. You truly are unfiltered and bizarre sometimes but still very endearing.

“That’s your vagina though,” he reminds you. “I’m just a visitor.”

“And you can visit my coochie without clothes on! Like you’re free. Plus, you’re the only one who’s going in there so why not?”

He laughs again at your allusions and pulls you in for a hug. 

“You drive me crazy, you know? And in the best way,” he says softly. 

“Thank you for that clarification,” you pull away and giggle. 

“So uh, shall I visit now?”

“Gotta prep you again first,” you gesture towards his flaccid dick.

“Oh. That won’t be hard,” he smirks.

You both burst into laughter but he does clarify that he’ll indeed get hard again; he just couldn’t pass up on the pun.

Jungkook softens at the look you give him. There’s this gentleness in it like always but it’s a little different this time. It's filled with even more trust. Perhaps appreciation and gratefulness, too? You often thank him for listening to all your thoughts and he gladly would. Everyday. 

He loves that this is something both of you can easily talk about, which isn’t even the first time. And that just like him, you don’t want any reservations or doubts in your relationship. There’s so much clarity that he feels for you in such a short amount of time that he’s been with you and he doesn’t even question it. 

Just this intimacy with you is everything he wants - there’s pleasure and intense desire but there’s playfulness, too. There’s warmth and comfort and that’s what being with you is like. 

You gaze at each other with such yearning that it immediately turns into a heated kiss. You catch your breath and his mouth travels to your nipples, expertly lapping them up, causing you to tilt your head and moan. He takes the chance to kiss down your torso, leaving you panting once he makes it to the side of your waist, an erogenous part he recently discovered that he takes advantage of. 

You return to kisses and your hands explore his chest before they grip his now hardened length. You moan at the feel of it, then thumb his tip before you lift yourself up and slowly slide down.

The sensation is different and you know he feels it, too. He hums and curses under his breath, pulling you close to nibble your neck while you grind against each other. 

It really does feel liberating in an odd way, Jungkook thinks, just because he feels everything. You clench around him and it has him moaning. 

This is the time when he does all the work, as he shifts you around to lie on the bed and you know it, too, biting your lip in anticipation for how hard he’s gonna go.

But he wants to focus on your pleasure first, so he dives down your cunt and kisses you in all the places he knows you like. He meets your eyes and hums to himself in satisfaction, knowing how much you’re enjoying this.

Once he feels your slick on his mouth, he gets on his knees and aligns himself with you, spreading your legs so he can get a good look of that naked entrance you were talking about.

You both moan once more, and Jungkook pushes in and out, familiarizing himself with the feeling that he knows he’ll keep having. You feel even more amazing like this; he just hopes he can keep it together and make this last longer.

“You okay, babe?” He pants.

“Yeah. It’s just like Pilates.”

He laughs again, having accepted that you’ll always have something fascinating to say even when he’s balls deep inside of you. 

But he quickly gets back to that hypnotic feel, especially once he flushes your legs against your chest, allowing him to thrust into you intensely at a different angle. 

You’re definitely not yet flexible enough so you’re a bit overwhelmed, but you let him chase his high just as he let you do so earlier with his skillful mouth and focus on the way he feels bare inside you. He knows how to use his beautiful dick and not to be cheesy, but it feels pretty special that no one else has ever felt him like this. 

His thrusts start to get erratic and you know he’s close. He pulls away, pulls out, then pumps himself repeatedly until he’s spilling his seed on your torso. The pure look of pleasure and exhaustion on his face is so sexy, you feel like coming again.

He finishes and hovers over you, supported by his propped up arms with his damp hair and sweat dangling from his forehead. He’s panting and cursing under his breath as he pecks your lips, and you just watch him, enthralled by these little actions, knowing that your body made him feel that way. 

“Let me just—”

He cuts himself off and walks to the bathroom then returns with a pile of tissues that he wipes you with. He apologizes as he does and you look at him softly, appreciating the gentleness and warmth on his face. He discards the soaked tissues and plops down next to you.

For a brief moment, you just look at each other, as if words aren’t enough to express what you want to say. It’s not just about the sex or the pleasure you both get from it. It’s not just the lust that courses through your veins and the desire for more. 

It’s that feeling of security, you think to yourself. It’s falling quickly from cloud 9 but knowing you’re not gonna crash because not only is he there next to you, holding your hand while you fall, he’s assuring you that it’s not gonna hurt. The fall isn’t the kind where that happens. 

Not like it’s some fairytale you’re in - although it might very well be - but there’s this trust that you both know what you’re getting into, that you know what you’re doing, that you just want to do what makes the other person happy. 

Because that’s what you want. With Jungkook, you’re not chasing the high or some elusive happiness because you’re living it already. It’s in your grasp and you’re filled with it. 

He smiles and you smile back. You snuggle close to him and softly kiss his lips. You want to repeat over and over again how much you like and adore and want him but it doesn’t feel enough so you settle for a hug and a bite of his cheek just because.

Jungkook chuckles and settles in this position next to you with caresses on your bare shoulder. He’s thinking of all that he feels for you until he hears your soft snores and he laughs again. 

You catch yourself and ask him if you fell asleep.

“Wow, you’re tired?” He teases.

“Shut up. Pilates makes me tired. What more this?”

“Fair enough,” he hums. “Let’s have a bath then. It could help you relax.”

You immediately agree and get off the bed. You clean your face then prepare the tub, splashing in some bath salts and lavender oil. He stands next to you naked, looking every bit handsome that you can’t help but kiss him again.

He still shivers at your touch and that urges you, as your hand once more wraps around his length and desire overtakes you once more. You start bending down and Jungkook knows what you want. He stops you for a bit and grabs one of the small towels from the sink and places it on the floor, right where your knees are supposed to be.

You get back to it immediately and the absence of the taste and smell of latex is so satisfying. It urges you to do more. It’s perhaps the best suck you’ve given him and the sounds he makes spurs you on. You didn’t think it would ever feel this good for you.

You let him come in your mouth this time and the long exhale he makes lets you know that you did well. It’s the same time when the tub gets filled, and you both go inside, moaning at the feel of the warm water all over your tired bodies.

It’s quiet for a while. You suppose you’re both just soaking in everything, familiarizing yourselves with the silence and the fact that you get to enjoy this fancy bathroom where you can do whatever you want. 

But Jungkook is the one who cuts through the sound of the bubbling water.

“You were so pretty tonight,” he says with his deep voice. 

You scrunch your nose and smile, giddy at his compliment and the sincerity in which he gives it. Even after all you’ve done in just the past hour, this is what gets you all shy and giggly. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You, well… I’ve told you both versions. But it was nice to see you being with my family, Kook. I know you’re usually shy around new people but you looked so natural with them. I really appreciate you trying.”

“I’ll admit, I was a bit nervous,” he chuckles. “You talk about your family a lot and you’re their baby. I wanted them to see that I’m good for you, you know? That I can take care of you because I’m sure that’s what they want for you.”

“That’s actually what one of my cousins said as they were leaving,” you smile. “And that my grandparents would’ve loved you.”

“Yeah?”

“She said you would’ve been a big help at the farm,” you chuckle.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jungkook smiles. “I know that they put Seokjin to work that one time. He said he’s glad he was prepared because his uncle has a farm, too, but that was tough work. And it was worth it. They were charmed by him at the end.”

“It would’ve been the same with you,” you say, reminiscing about that trip from long ago.

Seokjin and Hayoung were dating for just three months when they visited your grandparents. He’s lucky he got their approval then. Two years later, your grandfather passed; your grandmother followed a year later. 

But Jungkook got to meet them years before that as your friend and that still means something. Regardless, you think they’d adore him, too, if they were still around.

He smiles and kisses you. It's an affirmation he welcomes, and it’s one he got today from your entire family, especially from his biggest critics - your nieces and nephews. 

You return Jungkook’s kiss and moan once his one hand travels to your clit and the other fondles your breast. It’s the perfect place for this, and you sigh in his hold with your back flushed against his chest as you anticipate reaching your peak.

And you do, with his expert fingers fiddling away while his tongue swirls in your mouth with such intensity. You crash from your high engulfed in his arms, and you really can’t ask for anything more.

You stay like that for a while longer before heading to the shower. You fool around again that by the time you finish, you’re worn out and eager to sleep. 

“You’re waking up to go swimming with me and your family, right?” Jungkook asks you after you’ve turned the lamp off.

“Uh-huh,” you yawn, turning to hug him now.

His chest is taut and smooth and he smells like baby powder that you push your face against it out of sexiness aggression.

He laughs at you and accepts the new quirks you develop when it comes to him. 

“Good. Let’s slee—”

You’re snoring before he could finish his sentence as he expected. 

The perfect weekend may be halfway over but he’s loved every single moment with you. Including all the times you’d fallen asleep before he could even properly wish you goodnight. 

You ask for a five-minute extension when your alarm rings the next morning but Jungkook isn’t having it.

“I might lose points from your nieces and nephews if I’m not down at the pool by 9,” he groans. “They made me promise. You can’t sabotage me like this.”

He pulls the cover off of you and you groan in response. You slightly open your eyes and find him standing beside your bed already in his swim shorts, arms crossed and looking impatient.

“They won’t do anything. You’re being dramatic,” you say.

“I’m being cautious,” he argues. “Come on, babe.”

“Fine,” you frown, getting off the bed and walking to the bathroom. 

He follows you there and kisses your neck to get in your good graces and it works. You’re that weak for him and he knows this so he takes advantage. Sometimes you pretend to be angry or uncaring just so he’d butter up to you but his eye rolling and smirk tell you he knows exactly what you’re doing. 

You finally get in your bathing suit and head to the indoor pool where the kids cheer when they see you and Jungkook. You think they’re excited because he promised to teach them how to swim this morning. 

“You weren’t that excited when I taught you,” your cousin, Hae-dal, whines.

She was a competitive swimmer once upon a time, too.

“But you’re not a teacher, Ma,” Ha-yul says. “I couldn’t understand what you were saying.”

“She’s got a point,” you tell your cousin. 

Once Jungkook starts teaching them how to do the basics and guiding them with their strokes, she concedes.

You didn’t really plan on swimming today but the kids dragged Jungkook and he couldn’t bail on them. He still would’ve come though; he really wanted to try the hotel’s indoor pool and you don’t blame him. It’s huge and fancy-looking. There’s an area for kids, too, so teaching them is easy. You watch him manage six excited children who all want his attention and like you expected, he’s able to give it to each one.

“He’s such a natural,” Hoseok’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 

You turn and see that your friends and their partners are here, too, and are heading to the adult pool. You wave your greetings and signal that you’ll go to them later.

“He is,” you respond to your friend. “I never noticed it before.”

“Would you have liked him then if you did?”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing,” you hum. “I wasn’t in a good headspace for years and I probably would’ve screwed us up.”

“And he probably would’ve fought to keep you.”

“You think so?” You wonder. “If I hurt him, then I don’t deserve him.”

“Only if you intended to, but we all know you wouldn’t. Not to him. And that’s because you’re a good person, ___. I hope you’ll never forget that.”

You look at Hoseok, a man you’ve known for years and someone you’d seek advice from every once in a while when things are tough because of how wise he is, so he knows your fears and your worries well. 

He knows you’re afraid to disappoint people, that you don’t want to hurt the people you care about. And even as you’d told Jungkook last night that you want to continue with your relationship without doubts and fears, somehow this affirmation from Hoseok is something you also needed. And you wonder if it stems from a conversation he might’ve had.

He reads your mind, as he says that he, Jungkook, and Yoongi were chatting last night while making sure Namjoon didn’t fall over the yacht’s railing. 

“Kook was just talking about not wanting to fail you. As a partner and as a friend.”

“Did you assure him that he wouldn’t?” You ask.

“I did. And I reminded him that he’s a good person, too, and hurting you isn’t something he’d just do.”

“Seems easy to say, huh?” You laugh dryly.

“People can fight and have misunderstandings and not hurt each other. That’s… kind of what a mature relationship is,” Hoseok advises. “I know you’re on the cusp of something really great - if you’re not there yet - and I thought that reminding you that you’re capable of having genuine, long-lasting and gentle and intense feelings for someone would help. Because you are, okay? Kook’s really happy that he gets to be with you.”

You smile and think that it’s indeed a good reminder. You and Jungkook have been on this honeymoon ride of laughter and playful bickering the past two months and this weekend has turned out to be a beautiful dream, too. 

You feel so much for him and you don’t want to one day be overwhelmed by it that you start to doubt if you’re built for something enduring, like you want your feelings for him to be. 

You told him months ago that you’re both good people who’ll find other good people meant for you and that you deserve. And both of you have. It’s quite serendipitous - all the times you comforted yourself at the thought that the person meant for you is just somewhere around, he’d been next to you all along. 

“Thanks, Hoseok,” you turn to the man next to you. “I’m not surprised if Yoongi and Gyu-rim turn to you, too.”

“Oh, they already have. And it’s barely been a day,” he laughs. “And I say the same thing - they’re good people who deserve good things, too. And they’ve experienced so much that they know enough not to let go of the amazing things that come their way. But you and Kook - you’re like my babies. It makes me happy seeing both of you happy.”

“Well, I am. Very much.”

“And he is, too. But know that I’m just here, okay? We all are.”

You nod and hug him, assured even more that when things get tough, it’s your friends who'll help you and Jungkook find the way.

You finally head to the adult pool and greet your friends. By that time, Jungkook’s swimming lessons have ended, and he’s left the kids on their own to play around. 

You dip in the water and stay close to Taehyung and Mo-eum while Jungkook does his laps. It turns out to be a spectacle, as your friends and family stop to watch him. He’s surprised when everyone erupts in cheers and he just laughs it off, content that he still has the skills to entertain, even if he’s certain that he’ll continue doing this for fun.

Swim time ends and you head to your rooms to wash up and prepare for an early lunch before you checkout. Your friends and family occupy several tables of the hotel restaurant and manage to not be too disruptive with how large your group is. 

You fix your things and head to the reception then say goodbye to your relatives as they go back home. Your parents remind you and Jungkook about scheduling your visit to Gwangju and you promise that you will. Your nieces and nephews all take their time to hug your friends goodbye, especially Jungkook who they now say is their favorite uncle, a badge he says he’ll proudly wear. 

It’s a short drive to Jimin’s father’s cafe where you and your friends go to for dessert, and he welcomes you all with your favorite cakes and pastries that have you jumping in your seat. 

That’s where you separate. Seokjin and Hayoung go back to the hotel for another night before they fly to their honeymoon, Taehyung heads for the airport to return to New York, you and Jungkook drive to his parents’ house, and the rest of your friends journey back to Seoul. It’s goodbyes for now but the next lunch gathering is scheduled for when the newlyweds return and you can’t wait for that day to come.  

“So, are you excited to go to my childhood home?” Jungkook asks as he turns the corner to his street.

“I’ve been to your house a few times before, Kook,” you remind him. “It’s nothing new.”

“Well, you’re going as my girlfriend this time. That’s a new experience.”

“What new experiences am I gonna have, huh?” You teasingly ask.

“Hand-holding under the table, hugs on my couch… make out session on my childhood bed,” he shrugs.

“Very tempting,” you say.

“And very doable. My parents might even gush and tell us that it’s okay to be affectionate because, uh, they’re not really used to that.”

“Hmm. Sounds good then,” you smile. “Can’t wait.”

The new experience turns out to include Jungkook’s parents telling their neighbors that their son has a girlfriend and that she’s very smart and beautiful.

Jungkook shakes his head in embarrassment, as the elderly couple were merely passing on their street and greeting them but his parents went ahead and bragged about you, which you actually think is quite cute. And a relief, because you were worried about what they thought of you. They’ve always been nice, but you want them to truly like you, and with the way they’re welcoming you into their home, you think they already do.

The new experience also includes being shown old home videos of Jungkook growing up, like his taekwondo competitions and trips to the beach. You’d seen some of his baby photo albums the few times you all went here as friends but there’s more this time, and you’re reminded of baby Jungkook’s chunky cheeks and perfectly round doe eyes. 

There are photos of him being cradled by his mom and riding his dad’s shoulders and wearing costumes with his older brother. There are those from family trips and his kindergarten days. There are more of the embarrassingly adorable bowl cut hairstyle from middle school and the side bangs from high school. 

That’s how you spend the afternoon - his parents and brother telling you all these stories, Jungkook covering his eyes in embarrassment and defending himself, and you, heaving from laughter. 

They don’t even mind when you snort or say unfiltered things and that’s a comforting feeling. They look at you endearingly when you tell stories of Jungkook over the years and even recently, and you don’t miss the way his mom would sometimes touch your hand out of reflex and let it stay there. 

She’s such a warm individual, and you feel that aura of comfort she exudes that Jungkook definitely took from her. She’s so bright and positive and you understand why she’s beloved by her students. 

His father is very laid-back and slightly cheeky. He likes reminding you that it was Jungkook’s mom who confessed her feelings first because she found him very handsome, just like you did, and you see how Jungkook takes from his old man in that regard, too.

His older brother is quite introverted but has a good sense of humor, and you see why they get along so well, even if they insist it wasn’t always like that. But he seems very caring and attentive, and you’re reminded that Jungkook was raised by such good people. 

You’re lucky you get to be part of this family, as what they say you are, with his mom insisting that you always were because of your decade-long friendship with her son but now, you hold a special place in it.

You continue talking with Mrs. Jeon and let her show you Jungkook’s awards cabinet while the men start preparing dinner, as it is in this household. Jungkook did tell you that this mom’s cooking isn’t the best so it was something they always did. 

She asks you more about your work and takes interest in the research projects you did for child development. She asks about your college days, too, and how you and Jungkook were like back then.

You enjoy sharing about your life and your friendship with her son. You don’t know how much she knows but you talk about the past year and the trips you took and all the moments you had with him that turned out to be the serendipitous moments that brought you here. 

“He really likes you, ___. Like, really, really likes you. I don’t know how else to put it,” she takes your hand and smiles. “He’s a lot more open about himself and he talks to us with this joy and calmness and we’re really happy about that. So thank you. If he does anything silly, let me know, okay?”

“I doubt he will but yes, Auntie,” you smile back. “I think this is the kind of thing that my parents will tell him, too.”

“Probably,” she chuckles. “But we’re parents, ___. At the end of the day, we just want our children to love and be loved. We want them to be happy. And that’s what he is when he’s with you.”

You bow in gratitude, as her words assure you. But love? It’s an exciting thought. You don’t know if it’s all too soon but you know where this whole thing with Jungkook is going, and it’s definitely heading there. 

And just as your mind’s about to go elsewhere again, Mr. Jeon calls out that dinner is ready. 

You excitedly walk to the dinner table and gasp at all they prepared. From the beef soup to the pajeon to the cold noodles and raw fish, your tummy rumbles in anticipation. And as you expected, everything is delicious. 

You and Jungkook take turns in moaning and making these weird sounds you make when the food is good, and your shyness in front of his family slowly melts away. You talk more over dinner and even while you wash the dishes with his mom and then right after.

But you don’t stay up late, as you still have a long drive back to Seoul tomorrow afternoon. So you bid his parents and brother good night and take turns with Jungkook in washing up.

You’re exhausted by the time you’re in bed, your leg over his and your arms wrapped around his waist. You’re softly kissing his face as you both take in the silence and he asks you if you want to ride his bike with him and go to this famous spot to watch the sunrise. 

“To relive that time,” he tells you. “I… I always find myself going back to that morning in Jeju.”

“Why?”

“It was so thrilling - riding with you for the first time, feeling what I was feeling but nervous to let you know… But it was also so grounding, I guess,” he explains. “I mean, sunrise, dolphins, scenery of a seaside town… It’s like all these pretty things, including you.”

You remember the feeling clearly. It’s not hard to forget since it felt the same to you. Perhaps that’s when you thought that you could really have the good things you dreamed for in the palm of your hands, and now you do. Seeing the sunrise again with Jungkook this time would definitely make that past sunrise and all the sunrises after that even more special.

“Okay,” you smile. “But you’re waking me up. Drag me out of bed if you need to.”

“I’ll carry you bridal style out this door if it comes to it.”

You giggle at his words but promise that you’ll wake up. You don’t want to miss it either.   

“Today was nice, Kook,” you say after a beat of silence. “I think your mom finds me funny.”

“She finds you endearing,” he corrects. “She likes you. She likes you for me. And she thinks you really like me, too.”

“Hmm. I wonder how she figured that out. Is it because of the hundred times I called you handsome or praised you for a gazillion reasons or held your hand every time I had the chance?” 

You playfully mock yourself even if you think you’re very transparent about how you feel. You truly think you can’t like Jungkook anymore than you already do.

“Possibly,” he laughs. “But also because your eyes sparkle when you look or talk about me. It’s kind of a big tell.”

“Imagine if you were half-naked and she caught me ogling at you.”

“Let’s be thankful then that the first time she saw us together, I was fully clothed,” he chuckles. 

You nod in agreement and think the same. 

It’s quiet again for a while and Jungkook meets your sleepy eyes. He kisses you and he feels your toes curl like they often do, and he smiles against your lips because like always, you’re not afraid to feel things for him, and you’re not afraid to show it. 

He promises himself he’ll take after you. And then he can tell you everything he really feels.

You keep your promise and wake up when Jungkook taps your arm. He’s already dressed, and you appreciate how he always gets up first so you have more time to sleep. 

You fix up and make your way out in the dark where his motorcycle is parked on the street since he’d really planned on riding around in the morning. 

He reminds you of safety guidelines and tells you you’re free to hold onto him anytime, not like you need a reason anyway. He puts on your helmet and helps you up, then starts the drive to a nearby town to head to a spot he’s passed by so many times. 

The ride is quiet, with only the soft breeze of the summer morning buzzing as you drive past houses and mountains. You see the coast and he tells you you’re near. 

It’s still dark when you arrive but you can get a sense of what’s around you. There’s a walkway that leads to a church and behind it are massive rocks that jut out the ocean. There are some street lights the further you walk and you see the view that he’s talking about. The water is so vast and the boulders are flat and safe enough for you to sit at so you find a spot and sit between his legs, basking in the calmness of your surroundings and the warmth of the man who’s holding you. 

“Do you come here often?” You ask, as light starts to dot the horizon. 

“Not really. I ride past here sometimes but there are always many people in the morning,” he says. “The sun rises over this side so I thought it would be a good place to go. And well, it’s beautiful and we’ve barely seen it.”

“I already like it. You can just hear the waves crash against the rocks and it’s so refreshing.”

He hums in agreement and asks you how you slept. You talk about the short dream you had and end up talking about the other ones you remember. Jungkook laughs at your stories again and tucks his head in your neck when he does. He holds you tight and shifts around when he senses your legs cramping up. 

The sky continues to lighten, as orange and red hues peek out of the ocean. 

And then the sun comes and you hold your breath like always. It’s so breathtaking and it feels even more surreal being where you are. It’s another sight that you’ll ingrain in your mind knowing that this time, there’s so much more meaning to it. It’s as if you’ve really come full circle - from that hike up in Chungbuk to Jeju a few months ago to right now. 

Jungkook went from someone who was just around you to someone next to you and with you, and you’re filled with so much emotion, just thinking of how you got here. 

The sun’s taken its place in the sky and you hum in satisfaction. It’s another one of those daily occurrences that you get to witness and be a part of, and you have the most amazing person you know holding you.

You turn to Jungkook and find that he’s already looking at you. His eyes soften and you smile and he smiles back.

You’re so beautiful this morning, just like you are everyday. But he finds that everyday is a new kind of beautiful, and he wants to keep finding new things about you to gush about. Whether it’s a new pitch of your voice when you’re whining about something, a different reaction when he teases you, another fascinating thought you have, or anything else, really. 

He wants to keep learning about and experiencing life with you. He wants to keep holding your hand and settling into this home that both of you keep discovering and enjoying. He wants to—

“Kook, are you okay?” You cut through his thoughts. 

“Yeah. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

Jungkook sees your face change into one of surprise. It doesn’t worry him though. Even if you don’t feel it yet, you might as well be close to it.

“Is it too soon? Too late?” He wonders.

He at least doesn’t want to put you off. 

You look at the man with the prettiest eyes and child-like smile and think that he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever met. To be loved by him is probably your greatest gift.

“Hmm, it’s actually perfect timing,” you say, gazing back to let him know just how much you feel, too.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I was just thinking that I can’t like you more than I do now but I could. I could love you and I do, Kook. I… I really do love you.”

You’ve always been one to give in to your feelings and you feel them intensely. At this moment, it’s love that you’re filled with, and you feel it so much for the person in front of you.

He giggles and kisses you softly on the lips. You kiss him back then give him pecks on his cheek until he’s lying on his back and hugging you tightly.

It’s so freeing, as you listen to the ocean waves and the seagulls flying by and Jungkook’s racing heartbeat. It’s as if you’re able to feel all the comfort and passion you could possibly feel for someone and you want it to always be like this. 

You settle back on your earlier spot and he wraps his arms around your waist again.

“So, uh. When you have the time, do you mind telling So-you that I won?” He says.

You look at him questioningly.

“I told you she cornered me after the ceremony and asked me if I was your boyfriend, right?” Jungkook starts. “So I explained we were friends and then we started dating and she asked if I plan on marrying you like her uncle Seokjin who was also just friends with her auntie Hayoung and well…”

“What!” You laugh, imagining your 10-year old niece interrogating Jungkook. 

“Yeah and well, I said that we haven’t talked about getting married because we just started dating but that I love you so that should be a start,” he continues. “And so I got into this ‘who loves you more competition’ because she insisted it was her and while I understood where she was coming from, I couldn’t accept defeat and I insisted it was me. So we played all these games and your other nephews and nieces started playing along. I won everything but So-you didn’t want to declare me as winner.”

“Why not?”

“She said it’ll only count if I tell you. Because why does it matter if I love you if you don’t know that I do?”

“What a smart girl,” you laugh, thinking of how silly and incredibly adorable that whole exchange might have been. 

“She is and she’s right. It matters that you know. And I wanted to tell you that night but I didn’t want you to think it was only because you let me enter coochie heaven naked.”

You laugh again.

“What about yesterday?” You wonder.

“I was going to, especially after seeing how good you were with my family but… I wanted to savor the feeling one last time,” he explains. “Just like when I liked you first and didn’t say anything, I just had these moments of feeling it all to myself and admiring you without expectations. And I get to release it all now and it feels really good.”

“You’re not too bad at expressing your feelings, you know that?” You smile at him, feeling overwhelmed and quite speechless at everything he’s saying. 

“I try,” he whispers.

“I love you for it. And for everything else,” you assure him. “So maybe this beats the Jeju sunrise?”

“That was still special on its own. That version of us was trying to figure out if we could be each other’s home. This version…” he says, taking your hand for him to kiss. “This version knows we want to stay in this home for a long time.”

You let his words settle and pull his arms to hug you tighter. It’s all you need because he’s right. 

You’ve settled into him, into this with him, and even into this version of yourself that embraces all types of emotions and basks herself in the love she receives and gives. 

And as you spend the rest of the morning walking around town with his parents, and as you hold his hand while he drives back to Seoul, you think that he’s who you’ve been wishing for this whole time.

He’s the good that you hoped for and truly deserve, and you don’t think you could ever ask for anything more. 

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[thebeatles]

Coraline (2009) came out when I was 11 and in the fifth grade... and it really made a huge impact on me. And it's one of, if not, top fondest memories where I can reflect on it now and realize, yes, childhood autism.

I would not stop thinking or talking about Coraline. every minute of every day, that movie was on my mind. I've been exposed to Tim Burton stop-motion films growing up and loved them all/ had fond memories with each, but nothing could compare to Coraline. It was unique and touched on horror more than Tim Burton's films, genuinely send shivers down my spine. I'd argue that its execution as a kids horror movie adapted from a book was excellent but that's for another time (hint: Wybie).

This movie indeed was the door to explore more horror films. It's actually the film that made me feel not-so afraid of horror films anymore (before I was deadly afraid of horror films and raced to my room to avoid anything remotely scary). It's also the first film where I "studied" a film.. AKA watching behind the scenes, read more about stop-motion and the processes, voice acting. etc. This just help further the appreciation of the film. To this day I still remember little facts. Like how they used real popcorn for the trees. Bobinsky's moustache is made out of piano wire. You get it.

It's funny to think back on how I'd mention every single time that I watched Coraline over the weekend in my journal entry for school (every single time). I got teased for my "obsession" by my peers and family of something no one could understand. It kind of breaks my heart to admit that I did have a moment of resentment for this hyperfixation then (on top of having a hard time getting any work done) but eventually I found myself back. To this day, it has a special place in my heart.

Happy 14th anniversary!

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 7

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot:  You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a   desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer:   Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

--

Chapter 7: Unmasked < | Previous Chapter

The next morning had rolled around far too quickly for your liking. Part of you ached to just stay curled up in your bed, where there wasn’t some wild unknown waiting for you. Where there was something familiar. All you would have beyond yourself that was familiar was Techno. Who wasn’t all that familiar, truth be told. Definitely not a complete stranger, but not much better.

You practically drug your feet as you got out of bed, staring longingly at your surroundings. Would you ever return to this room? Maybe if you were visiting, but this wasn’t your room anymore. It left you feeling almost hollow. Reluctancy plagued your every movement, even as you dressed. Your dagger fell comfortably against your hip once more as you tightened the belt around your waist. It was still unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. It was something safe. You needed that right now.

All too soon, your melancholic peace was interrupted by a few of the servants bustling in to collect your belongings. You softly told them to ensure that the blanket would be in the carriage with you during the ride, so it could be accessed. Another little comfort for you. Who knew how awkward the trip would be. You knew good and well you weren’t good at holding a conversation with Techno.

You had slipped out of the room, head swimming in various thoughts and scenarios. Despite Techno’s reassurances the other day that you would manage fine, and his kingdom wasn’t bad, you had your doubts. Your own fears. 

“Don’t look so down,” George’s voice called from beside you, making your head snap up. What was with people sneaking up on you first thing in the morning? You sighed, rolling your shoulders a little.

“It’s hard not to. It’s exciting, but at the same time it’s terrifying. I’m leaving everything and everyone that I know and love.” You gazed in front of you, as if trying to memorize every brick that lined the walls. How different would your new home be from your old one?

“I think you’ll be just fine. I’m sure there’s plenty of friends to make there.” George was trying his best to reassure you, and you could only offer a weak smile. You hoped he was right. Perhaps there were friends to be made in Techno’s brothers. You wouldn’t truly know until you met them, though.

“Hopefully,” You murmured. You took a deep breath as you walked into the dining hall with your brother, settling into your usual spot. For the last time. These thoughts were extremely frustrating, but there wasn’t more to be done about them. They wouldn’t be soothed. They were likely normal, but that made it hard to keep them tamped down.

Breakfast was simultaneously slow and far too fast. You were swamped with thoughts the whole time, hardly responding to anyone. It was a struggle on how to feel. You exchanged a couple greetings with Dream and Techno, but neither seemed to push you for more conversation. Which was greatly appreciated. Even as you slid out of your seat, you felt almost despondent. 

You stood on the steps of the castle, staring at the carriages that awaited you. The carriage that would take you away from home. Even though you were technically going to a new home, it hardly felt like that. Truthfully, nothing could have prepared you for the emotions that came with something like this.

“Are you ready?” Techno’s voice rang beside you, and you nodded numbly. He nodded slightly, moving towards one of the carriages to climb inside, the door propped open. You stepped down the stairs, glancing over your shoulder. Dream and George were just behind you, with the latter offering a soft and encouraging smile.

“You’ll be fine, just don’t forget to write to me,” George said. Always reminding you to not forget. You nodded, letting him hug you just as he did last night.

“Make sure you take good care of our kingdom, okay?” You murmured. You knew this wasn’t a goodbye forever, but it felt like it would be a long while before you saw him again. You weren’t even sure when the wedding would be, but you knew he would be there.

“Always. They’ll be calmer without you causing problems all the time.” He gave your hair an affectionate ruffle as he stepped away. Dream didn’t waste his time in stepping in next. He wrapped you up in a bone-crushingly tight hug, chin resting atop your head.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He murmured quietly, voice low. You sighed, clinging onto him just a little.

“I have to, Dream. You know that,” You whispered, eyes closed. When would the next time be that you got to hug him like this? 

“I know, but I can still hope. I really don’t want you to leave. I’d do anything if it would change your mind and get you to stay.” You breathed a soft laugh, head shaking.

“If only it were that easy. You’ll see me again. It just won’t be daily.” You began to peel yourself away from him, glancing up at his face. He seemed so conflicted and upset, brow furrowed. One hand cradled your cheek for a few moments, thumb brushing your cheekbone.

“Just take care of yourself. This isn’t the end of all of this,” he reassured. You nodded and smiled, leaning briefly into his hand before it fell to his side. With that out of the way, you finally stepped back, taking a few moments to watch the two of them before turning to retreat to your carriage. 

Techno stood from where he had been sitting inside of it, holding out a hand to help hoist you up. You took it, grasping the frame of the door as you stepped up into the carriage. As you did, he looked behind you with narrowed eyes. You followed the gaze as you moved to settle into your seat. Dream was at the other end of it, returning the stare with an almost venomous glare. What was their problem? They’d been this way the entire time.

Techno closed the door to the carriage and sat down across from you, leaving you to sigh. You could still peer out of the window, though you didn’t particularly care to right now. It’d only worsen your mood, probably.

“I was beginning to wonder if you only wore dresses,” Techno finally broke the silence, causing your focus to shift from your thoughts to him instead. You glanced towards your attire, completely forgetting you had forgone a dress for today. You didn’t like traveling in them, and there was no telling how long the trip would take. It had been in your best interest to wear the pants.

“Of course. I just don’t often do things that warrant me needing to wear pants.” You shrugged a little bit. You settled back against the cushions, making a face as the carriage lurched. You rarely did travel like this, so it would definitely be interesting. Or potentially very boring.

“You were really restricted here, weren’t you? You’ll have more opportunity to wear them here. Far more convenient and useful than a dress.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Was he really criticizing you on how convenient your fashion was?

“Are you really one to criticize fashion? You walk around wearing a boar skull that you can hardly see out of.” You fired back. A huff of laughter escaped him at that, hand lifting to close the curtains to the windows.

“I don’t normally wear it. Only in foreign lands or for extremely ceremonial proceedings,” He began nonchalantly. He reached up behind his head, fiddling for a few moments with something.

“You really don’t have to-” You had begun to object, though he only laughed.

“You’re gonna be seeing me without it sooner or later. Might as well start now. Besides, it isn’t exactly comfortable.” Carefully, he pulled the skull away from his face and you couldn’t help the interest coursing through you as his face was finally revealed. There was a lot to take in, and you weren’t exactly sure where to focus first. The three jagged scars on the right side of his jaw were much easier to see now, stopping at about the middle of his cheek. The bridge of his nose had a second scar across it, heading towards his eyebrow. This one looked much cleaner. Like it was done by a sword, whereas the others appeared to be done by an animal. Those were the most distinguishing things you could see, though there were hints of bags under his eyes. Beyond that, he was normal. Attractive, but normal.

“What happened?” You murmured curiously, unable to stop yourself. It was a touch easier to read his expressions now, and you were honestly glad for that. He seemed to contemplate the question for a few moments, settling the skull beside him.

“These were from a hunting accident as a child. They’re from the same boar whose skull I wear,” he explained, fingers tapping at the jagged lines along his jaw. You couldn't help but grimace a little.

"Have you been wearing it since then?" You nodded towards the skull, and he laughed again. An actual laugh- not the muted huff that was barely audible.

"No, I didn't start wearing it until a couple years ago. For a while it was just a… revenge trophy, of sorts. This one here," he motioned towards his nose, "Is from a duel with Wilbur." You could only blink. That one looked newer, so you can only imagine it had taken place in perhaps the last 5 years. Wilbur was that brother of his, wasn't he?

"You fight your brothers?" You were full of so many different questions. There was a lot to be answered, though. With every little detail he revealed, it brought about a new perplexity to him.

"Not on a normal basis, and not usually aggressive. We'll spar every now and then, but this was a one time thing." He didn't elaborate further for several moments, as if trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. What had called for an actual duel between them? "Tradition has it that if two princes have strife between them on who should be next in line for the throne, they duel. The duel runs until either one dies or concedes."

You stared at him, struggling to wrap your head around the concept. "Would you… would you have killed him?" You managed out. The question made him sigh, brows furrowing as he looked to the side.

"I don't know. I didn't want to kill him, no. He conceded before we could figure out the answer, though. I'm thankful he did, though." His voice was soft, but tinged with the faintest traces of affection. Okay, he wasn't as terrifying as he had briefly seemed. He at least cared for his family. You could deal with that.

"Being king one day was important to you, then?" You arched an eyebrow. The idea of being Queen had never crossed your mind. It had never been a plan, or a possibility. Not until recently, at least. Before that you had been just content to live your life, however it was thrown at you. Life had some strange workings, though. You were quickly discovering that.

"Yes. It felt like the natural path for me." He shrugged as he spoke and you simply nodded. Silence stretched in the carriage for an amount of time, though it was hardly uncomfortable. Every now and then you glanced towards Techno’s face, still trying to adjust to the lack of skull. Without it there, it was much easier to peer at the various gold studs and chains adorning his ears. He really didn't hold back on how ostentatious he was.

"I thought you weren't allowed to have weapons? At least not where Dream was concerned." You slid your gaze to his, where he nodded towards the dagger on your hip. You had nearly forgotten it was there.

"He doesn't want me to have any. It was a gift from the smith, he couldn't deny me it." You ran your fingers over the designs on the grip, carefully tracing one of the flowers.

"Can I see it?" He leaned forwards, elbows propping onto his knees. You pulled it from its sheath, carefully giving it to him. He held it in his hands, staring at it for a few moments. He shifted it closer and further from his face a few time until a huff escaped him. He sat it beside him, reaching for a pouch against his belt. You blinked a little as he pulled out a rather delicate pair of golden glasses.

He… had to wear glasses? Yet he still wore a stupid skull that prevented him from wearing them? Sacrificing his sight for looks. How ridiculous. You watched him settle them onto his nose, picking up the dagger once more.

"It's well made," he started and flipped it over. He pressed a finger to the tip to test the sharpness, though pulled it back before you could protest to the action. "Sharp, well balanced. Very ornamental but functional. I think its a fitting first weapon for you." He praised the knife, moving the pricked finger to his mouth. The other hand held it out towards you to take back and sheath. Which you did rather carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt either of you.

"You'll teach me to use it?" You questioned, trying to squash the excitement in your voice.

"They're pretty straightforward, but yes." A smile curved his lips, finger leaving his mouth. Excitement sparkled in your eyes, and it took a lot to not give a victorious little squeal. You had at least won some small battle.

---

George focal point

George stood beside Dream for several moments, watching the carriages holding his sister pull off. It was a bittersweet moment, truthfully, but he was happy for her. He had full reason to believe she would be happy there. She would flourish like she was meant to, in ways she had never truly been allowed to here. Not when she was in the presence of Dream, who was ever protective of her.

Speaking of the blonde, he turned to look at him, curiosity in his gaze. "Did you ever tell her?" He questioned, making the younger turn his attention to him instead of where his sister had disappeared.

He was silent for several heartbeats, lips pursed. "No." The words were plain, and flat. It caused George to sigh, rubbing his cheek in frustration.

"Are you okay with that? Her not knowing?"

"I have to be, don't I? Next time I see her she'll be getting married." He was bitter. So bitter, yet he had done it to himself. He had no one to blame, except for himself. Not that George dared to tell him this.

"You can always tell her, if it makes you feel better. It won't change anything, but it might save you. She doesn't catch onto hints, Dream." He turned, walking back towards the castle. He didn't need to look back to know Dream was following. He always did when he was the only option he had.

"How would it make me feel better? How would anything make me feel better?" 

"Don't be so dramatic, Dream. You know getting it out in the open will help. You'll be able to move on." Even now, George couldn't help but find the irony of Dream’s reluctance to say anything flat out, even if the only company he had was him and he already knew.

"I don't need to move on. She might have to come back." Stubborn ass. George shook his head with a sigh.

"Suit yourself. I won't force your words out. I can only recommend it." Forcing Dream to admit what they had both known for years wouldn't accomplish anything. It would only upset him, and he was too volatile currently to upset.

Next Chapter | >

[b-movie-mondays]

B Movie Mondays

Mac and Me (PG, 1988) DVD - Tubi Run Time: 1h 39m Watches: 2 IMDb Rating: 3.3/10 My Rating: 🦈🦈🦈 Word Count: 745

I honestly like this movie. Is it so cheesy it’s bad? Yes. Is it a good family watch together? Also yes.

Mac and Me was a film produced by McDonald’s. Yes, that McDonald’s. That being said, this is a fairly solid 80’s family movie. As all do, this has its flaws. The characters are flat, the story line is a little boring, and the aliens are the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life…but all of these things make this movie so charming. You’d think this film would feel soulless and dull because it's more or less 99 minutes of product placement, but it doesn’t. There are moments, of course, where this is a ridiculous commercial rather than a movie, but overall I enjoyed watching this.

Now, I only gave it a 3 for a few main reasons. The characterizations, the plot, and the design choices. If that seems nitpicky it’s because it is. Starting with the characterizations, I didn’t really expect much. This is a failed Mickey D’s cash grab family film, so I didn’t think there was going to be any good or interesting character growth. That being said, the character development was so bland, and damn near non-existent, that it was hard to actually like anyone in this movie. 

Small side tangent, I do enjoy the way that they incorporated Eric’s wheelchair. As a disabled person myself, it means a lot to me that they were so casual about it. Of course this movie is from 1988, so the representation isn’t flawless, but it’s still pretty good for its time. Something that bothers me a lot about other reviews of this film is people making fun of the wheelchair for simply existing. Was the wheelchair needed for plot development? No, it wasn’t, and that’s what makes it good. Now bear in mind that I cringe every time I watch the wheelchair-falling-off-a-cliff scene, but seeing as that was the only major flaw, I don’t have much to say about it.

Moving on to the plot, it was just…boring. Nothing very notable was happening in the story that impressed me. I’m okay with this, and I wasn’t expecting a groundbreaking script and writing, but I wanted something a little more exciting. I found myself on my phone a lot while watching this movie. Long story short, this is an E.T. rip off; boy finds alien, boy befriends alien, boy goes on a wacky adventure to return alien to family, and boom, happy ending. But the difference between Mac and Me and E.T. is that E.T. was good. Don’t get me wrong, I like Mac and Me, but it’s not original. It doesn’t have anything special going for it. 

There are a few moments where I couldn’t help but laugh, whether that was because a joke they made actually landed or because a scene was so bad it was funny. More of the latter than the former, but there are a lot of good one-liners here and there. None of their visual gags were that funny, but the jokes were pretty good for a kid’s comedy. 

Last but not least, let's talk about the design choices, because oh boy, choices were made. These aliens, man. They are so goddamn ugly. E.T. was kind of ugly too, but in a cute way. The aliens in Mac and Me do not have that going for them. The baby aliens look better than the adults, but even they’re scary. I think if I were a small child watching this I might’ve cried. The way these things move is so surreal that it triggers my fight or flight, and the weird whistling they use is so grating that I had to mute it at times. They tried too hard to make a cute alien with big eyes that didn’t look like E.T. and they ended up re-inventing El Chupacabra instead. 

The sets were lack-luster and didn't feel memorable, but I thought the costuming was nice. The only time I really thought “Wait, what?” about a set was in the McDonald’s scene, where they are in some sort of Mega McDonnies with a massive dining room and full service waitstaff. Also people were singing and dancing. I thought I was having a fever dream. Do not watch this movie while high. Or do, whatever makes you happy.

All in all, this is a mediocre movie. It’s good for what it is, but it’s not particularly special in any way.

[heywoodvirgin]

Borró Cassette ( Chapter 2)

Guys, writing is really not my thing, but I love Jackie so much not to try to ^^ 

Chapter 1 here ^^ 

Modern!Jackie Welles / Original Female Character 

Rated : Teens and up 

angst and fluff ahead ! 

*** 

- Medium plier.

It was the first thing he said in ten minutes or so.

Jack was under his cruiser’s wheels, hands focused on oiling some pieces of his machine’s brakes when she stepped into the garage.

For the first two weeks following their… argument, Mey avoided taking that route, instead opting for a detour that made her waste a solid thirty minutes every morning and evening. She thought avoiding places they used to share was a temporary solution, she was wrong. Every step she took in the opposite direction made her think about him longer, recalling all the hours he so generously spent teaching a slow learner like her how to ride a moto, how he’d always secured her helmet himself every time he took her for a ride, and those were many times, so many she couldn’t count anymore.

So when Mey finally decided to stop whatever childish game she was playing -not replying to his texts and calls, among others- and test her luck, she found herself standing gracelessly in the middle of his garage, blocking the last rays of sun he was using to work.

For long minutes, she stayed planted there, like a stupid scarecrow, marinating her anxiety, unable to say the word that mattered most. He noticed her, of course he did, and said nothing, just a flash of surprise in his eyes, and he was under his moto gain. It wasn’t like Jackie to act cold like that. Resentful wasn’t in the list of words to describe Jackie Welles, not even in the bottom line. He never ignored her. It felt so wrong to be in the receiving end of his spite or whatever this was. She missed the warmth of her friend; it was almost shocking now, as she realized it.  It was just one small “sorry”, but she still didn’t feel it in her, she still didn’t feel like she was the one that should say sorry. He fucked up, he should know, by now. But also, she knew that his apologies should go to the person his wrongs were directed to, not to her, if she would take her time and think.  But now, all she wanted, was a heart-to-heart talk, something she played in her mind over and over, every day during two weeks and five days and twelve hours, and here she was standing, mind blank, not even capable of uttering a simple hello.

When she finally found the guts to move and sit carefully on the sofa, and when he still didn’t react, she felt the panic, acid prickling at her skin. The sun had completely set down, last rays licking the far away mega buildings of the city, the garage lights flickered on. It was a quiet summer evening, one of few they had in the crazy city, but her neighborhood was one of the quietest, she had to admit. She liked it most of the time, but today wasn’t one of those days, it felt like the entire world went silent on her. That till he spoke.

- Medium plier.

She blinked a few times before she registered his request, moving to fetch the tool from its box, still memorizing perfectly the space around.

- Screwdriver, 4.

And it went like that for an hour or so, them moving about and working together. She was glad he offered her that physical occupation, even if it was mainly her handing him his tools and watching him sweat under his machine.  For a minute, her mind was just on the craft and she was relieved he still sounded pretty himself as soon as he opened his mouth, even if them occupying their hands didn’t prevent her mind to go racing about everything, and his too, she could tell in the way they couldn’t look each other in the eye, yet.

It was until he threw at her a wet rag to wipe her hands and she creased her nose because of the reeking petrol smell that they exchanged an amused look.

- Hey, never get used to the smell huh?

She shrugged, briefly smiling.

- So how have you been? He looked at the floor, discarding the wet rag near an old stool.

- Fine, she nodded to the floor, fighting a sudden rush of tears, trying to contain them in, in vain.

- Ven aqui.

He didn’t need to say more and she was in his arms. She didn’t remember him giving her hugs like that before, she shut her eyes, crushed against him, fisting his shirt, and he seemed to reciprocate, folding his bulk around her. He smelled like gas and sweat, but she only buried her head further in his chest. After some time like that she could feel the breath knocked off her chest and she started laughing

- Eres un idiota, you know that, she mumbled in a huff, a big idiot.

- I really shouldn’t teach you this one, but I know right, sorry hermana, I really mean it.

- Well, sorry too, she shrugged, as they let go of each other's embrace.

- Hey, no more tears, ok? Drink with me tonight?

- Sure, but just a lil', ok? She sniffed.

- Pft, aguafiestas, he grumbled, picked up two bottles of tequila and passed her one.

- So to what are we drinking tonight?

-  A la reunión! Amiga!

- A la reunión, then!

- Opening one of your expensive ones, just for me? she winced after one little gulp.

- Solo pa’ti, hermana, even if I know you’d rather go for one of your exotic stuff, tomatoes juice or something like that…

- Shut up, since when is tomatoes juice exotic, she internally face palmed.

- It is if I say so. Come on now, let’s sit, I’m beat, and starvin’.

- When aren’t you. She teased as he put his arm around her shoulder, leading her to the couch.

They sat comfortably in silence for some time.  When she finished her bottle, he was already at his third or fourth.

-You, Mimi, you won’t close the door on me anymore, huh, any door…

She could tell the alcohol started to work its way to his head. He was starting to tell her things that she could misunderstand, like only him could…

- Hey, hey, no more tequila tonight, please? She gently took the bottle from his hands. His usually warm palms were clammy and cold, shaking slightly.

- It’s a bad day, not a bad year, and even if it is, it certainly won’t be a bad life, remember, these are your own words you used to tell me.

- Si, recuerdo. He chuckled sadly.

- How can we regret something we don’t want, Huh.

- Do you, Jack? Mey’s throat was oppressed; she kept her voice low, as if afraid to hear her friend’s answers. She felt powerless, the weight of his grief falling on her chest. She knew that whatever she would say now, it wouldn’t be enough.

- What if I do Mimi, it’s done you know… it’s gone… I killed it.

- Shut, shut no, Jackie, no. If it’s someone’s fault, it should be mine, too. She softly scratched his scalp, a failed attempt to soothe him. His body was stiff with unshed tears, tension threatening to break at any moment, and she wished he would at last, cry. Let it seep out of his system. She wished he could do it with her, as tears pickled at the corners of her eyes, stinging, fat drops of salty water, falling free.

- How’s that your fault too, Mey? He turned with questioning eyes, and she found her courage failing her, as his eyes searched her face and her hand fell on his forehead. It was still hard to look him in the eyes.

- I should’ve been there for you, I should’ve been there when you were alone facing this decision I-

- You being there wouldn’t change my decision, hermana. It was already settled, and for some time now. Me and Lin, wasn’t working anyway.  

- Because you didn’t want it to work. She didn’t want to accuse him in any way, it was a statement that she and he both knew was true.

- Because I didn’t want it to work.

- Why? she asked in a little voice.

- Eh, the boxer and the super model, you believed it too?

- I- thought it was perfect, Jack, I really did.

At least for some time.

- You’re a romantic.

- Look who’s talking, she let out a teary laugh.

- But that’s not what I was talking about… I meant…

- I know what you meant, and there too, it wouldn’t have changed a thing.

The silence that followed was the heaviest Mey had ever felt between them.

- How… How did she take it?

- Surprisingly well. She’s a smart girl, Mimi. Bet that’s why she wanted us to be engaged, can’t blame her for not trying.

- She is a good woman, Jack.

- Lo sé, lo sé. Jackie said quiet, tears wetting the fabric of her dress. It was good, she thought. He still trusted her enough, enough to let her see his most vulnerable side, even after almost a month of absence, of total silence.

It was such a relief, if she let herself be honest. To find him again, broken, but still her friend who would call her hermana, offer to make dinner and end up dozing off, head in her lap.

It felt good to touch him again, too. Now in the quiet hours of the night, she could hear the cold neon lights purring, electricity running through the garage’s old wires, the tunes of whatever music he left on, that was almost muted, reached her from the furthest corner of his hideout. It smelt like motor oil and alcohol and old leather, a bit of him too, and before the knots in her stomach started to twist again, she talked herself to go and let him rest.

-Don’t you think it’s time to go and get some sleep in that fancy bed of yours? She prompted, trying to sound as light as she intended.

-Nah. Like it here more, reminds me of where I came from. ‘sides, it’s comfortable.

-Might be comfy for you, big head, but my legs are starting to get numb, so… She tried to shake his head off her lap, playfully pushing at his shoulders.

- Don’t even try, weak ass.

- That’s abuse of power!

- La niña learned to talk, too. Not bad.

- Fuck off.

- What about you going home now, huh, I’m just gonna crash here tonight. Couch’s enough comfort for my ass, for now.  He straightened up, rubbed his eyes, dusted his jeans, offered a hand for her to take.

- Or you can crash on mine. She shrugged, taking his offered hand and fighting a blush. Or not- she started when the response took a bit long to come.

- Let’s get the fuck outta here, then. And he gave her a real smile, this time.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

The Guardian’s Oath, Part Sixteen

Here it is, my beautiful readers, the last part of this ongoing saga! This was something that I originally thought I’d complete around mid-October, so that I could continue with a couple of other Halloween-themed pieces I had in mind. Oh well... Christmas is traditionally a time for ghost stories, not that this is really a ghost story... anyway...

Thank you very much to those who have followed along with the story. If you’d like to get yourself caught up on what this is, you can find all the previous chapters linked in the Master List. But whenever you’re ready to find out how it ends, you can just click to “keep reading”.

(As always, what gets published here is first-draft, unedited, unchecked rawness. There are going to be spelling mistakes, grammatical mistakes, hell, you’re lucky if I don’t start calling characters by different names halfway through. I apologize for all that.)

Pairing: Feargal Devitt/ Finn Balor x OFC

Word count: 3,115

Content warning: Honestly, if you’ve made it through the rest of the story, there’s nothing here that’s going to bother you. And saying more than that would probably mean spoiling the story. 

“Imagine my surprise when we got home and found out you’d run off on some servant’s errand,” he whispered. “What on Earth would have possessed you to do that?”

“I just wanted to get outside and do something to feel useful.”

“And then when you finally get home, you’re in another man’s arms.”

“That’s not true. He was helping me up the walkway and-”

He held my face in his hands and kissed me, hard. 

“Tell me, where else did he have his hands today?”

“Feargal, you’re being ridiculous,” I chided, but then cried out a little as he trailed his hand down my body, finding my nipple through my clothes and pinching it hard. 

“What else did you let him do to you?” He gripped my face in his hand and pushed me down on the bed before climbing on top of me. “What was it that left you so sore and weak that you couldn’t walk without his help?”

“You know perfectly well that-”

He kissed me, roughly pulling my skirt up and running his hands over my legs. 

“I haven’t been allowed to touch you in so long.”

I was stunned as I realized what he wanted, as I felt him tearing away at my undergarments. 

“You can’t be serious. The door is open. Susan could walk in! The children could walk in!”

He merely grunted and loosened his own clothing enough to free his erect member, the weight of it even more impressive than I remembered against my thigh. He kissed and bit at my neck, snarling softly like a beast, like a beast I knew all too well. He thrust inside me hard and immediately I knew something was wrong. The pain was sharp and overwhelming, and I almost cried out loud but for the fact that he placed his hand over my mouth just in time. 

“Please,” I sobbed into his hand, shaking my head. “No.”

As suddenly as they had started, his movements stilled. He stared at me wide-eyed and in shock. 

“My love,” he gasped. “I forgot that… I am so sorry.”

He withdrew from me and tucked himself away, stroking my hair with one hand. He continued to apologize even as I assured him that everything was alright.  He straightened his clothing and rose unsteadily from the bed, carrying himself out of the room and downstairs with an almost drunken gait even though I called after him. 

It took me a few minutes to recover myself enough to sit up and smooth my clothing into a more presentable state. I looked into the crib next to the bed and saw my son lying quietly, his eyes blinking and staring off towards the window. I hesitated to touch him in case he started crying but I could not resist the urge to place my hand on the blanket next to him, so that I could feel the heat of his body against mine. 

I moved to leave, meaning to head downstairs when it caught my eye: three scratches on the wooden frame of the crib, three parallel lines the like of which I had seen before. 

*

Once I had seen the Demon’s calling card and after Feargal’s sudden outburst, I knew that I had to do something. I had looked in the eyes of both my husband and the demon and now I truly believed that they were one and the same. I knew that the scratches I had seen on the crib were fresh because I had kept my eyes peeled for any sign that Balor might come to carry out his threat to take Michael away. No one could have snuck into the house and up to our room in the light of day. It was Feargal I had seen holding him. And I had experienced his bizarre behavior immediately afterward. 

I knew I couldn’t say these things to anyone else. Even saying them in my own head, they seemed insane. But my baby’s life was at risk and, by extension, the lives of William and Sophia, who I had sworn to protect. Although I had no confirmation, my instinct remained that getting Michael baptized would put him out of the Demon’s reach. Whether or not that would solve our problems, I did not know. 

My plan was to wait until everyone was asleep and then to leave with Michael. In order to avoid involving anyone else in the town, I resolved to walk the distance to the next village and to present myself to a pastor there as a young mother afraid for her baby’s health and insistent that he be baptized. There was no chance I would make it back before everyone awoke the next day, which meant that I would need an excuse to tell my family, something I had not yet worked out. I told myself that something would come to me because it had to. 

Every day I stared at the scratches on the crib and worked out the path I would take, what I would wear to keep us both warm, all of the details that I needed to know to accomplish my goal. I had not chosen a specific date but one night I felt a chill over my skin as I watched Michael sleeping and I knew that the time was at hand. 

I had lain awake every night making sure I knew every angle, every board, every nuance of the room so that I could get up quickly and access the clothing I had stashed for easy access. Feargal slept peacefully next to me and as I looked at the soft curve of his lips, my resolve faltered. He was still so beautiful, so much more than I ever could have imagined I would have as a husband. Surely I was mad to even think he could be a monster? 

Then I closed my eyes and forced myself to think of the ferocious look in his eyes when he was jealous, so pale and cold, just like those of Finn Balor. I thought of his touch, and how his hands and arms felt exactly the same against my skin. And I reminded myself that, as impossible as it might seem, this might also explain what had happened to his first wife. It pained me but I had to move forward. 

I slipped from the bed an inch at a time, freezing in place any time I thought Feargal showed a sign of stirring, and dressed myself in the clothes I’d prepared for the journey. Then came the most difficult part. Michael was asleep in his crib and I knew that picking him up would wake him. Ever so gingerly, I held a scarf against his face, so that at least the sounds he made would be muted. 

When I lifted him, however, it was like he understood that he should remain quiet. His blue eyes opened and looked around but he immediately curled against my breast and settled as if he was about to fall asleep again. I wrapped a blanket and my cloak around us both so that he would be warm and made my way to the stairs, walking to the rhythm of my own heartbeat. 

I had spent weeks memorizing where to walk on each stair to avoid making the floorboards creak under my weight and when I reached the bottom, I congratulated myself, for I had executed the descent perfectly. I hurried to the street door, confident that the rug would disguise any sound, and slowly turned the key to unlock it. It hadn’t been easy, but I had practiced moving the key so that it made hardly any noise, even when the deadbolt slipped back. What is most important to understand is that my plan had unfolded flawlessly to that point and that I had made so little noise that even the infant in my arms remained at peace. 

“Where are you going?” came the sharp voice behind me. 

I spun, biting down on my tongue to avoid crying out, and found myself facing William and Sophia, both in their nightclothes but looking almost unnaturally alert. I closed my arms tight around Michael and struggled to think of an adequate answer. After all, I had assumed that I would have the time to think of some cover story while I walked. I had nothing prepared to explain myself, even to children. 

“Where are you going?” William repeated, his voice rising. 

I held my finger to my lips in the hopes that no one else would overhear us. 

“What are you doing up? Go back to bed!” I whispered. 

“We heard you moving around,” he answered. 

I knew that that was not true. I knew how deeply they slept and I had not heard a sound behind me until he spoke. It was impossible that they had heard me and I had not heard them. It was more like they had already been awake and downstairs, lying in wait for me. But I couldn’t say that to them, so I tried to make an excuse. 

“Your brother is sick. I’m taking him to see a doctor.”

Sophia arched her brow at me. “Why not just send for the doctor to come here?”

I swallowed and once again motioned for them to stay as quiet as possible. “I don’t care for the doctors here. I want him seen to by someone else.”

“But that’s silly,” she responded sharply, although at least quietly. “It’s dangerous taking him outside, especially if he’s already sick. You should tell Father and have him go.”

“I don’t have time to explain right now,” I insisted, “but please, just go back to bed. We’ll have lots of time to discuss this when I come back.”

“No,” William pouted, “she’s right. You need to leave him here. As long as he’s here, we’re all safe.”

Sophia pinched him hard on the arm and he cried out, fortunately not very loudly. 

I struggled to understand what he meant, why he thought that having a sick baby remain in the house somehow meant that we would be safe. It was possible, of course, that he simply didn’t understand how sickness worked, but then it would make no sense that his sister had upbraided him for saying it. Was she embarrassed that he might look foolish? No, I thought, it was something else. He’d said something that she specifically didn’t want him to say. 

“Why do you think you’d be safer with him here, William?” I asked, focusing my eyes solely on him. 

He looked at his sister, who shook her head quickly. He continued to stare at her for what seemed like a long time. Finally, it was she who responded. 

“You promised you’d protect us. You can’t protect us if you’re not around.”

“I’ll be gone less than a day. You aren’t in any danger.”

She shook her head again. “We’re not safe from him until he gets what he wants. Michael needs to stay here and so do you.”

I blinked, not quite believing what I’d heard. They weren’t safe until “he” gets what he wants? Who did she mean? Was it at all possible that she knew of the demon and his determination to take the baby? And would her words not indicate that she wanted to help him? 

I stared into her dark eyes and felt a shiver go from my skin down to my very core at how cold they looked in the low light. William’s expression was impetuous but hers was more frightening because of its utter lack of human emotion. There was no hint of anything childlike or innocent about her. 

Somehow, I could feel that she knew that the demon Finn Balor was lurking and that he was determined to take this child, my child, the third child of the house, away to be with him. And she believed that letting him do so would protect the family from him in the future. Did she know that he had also threatened to take me? Did she care? 

Unable to come up with another word to say, I grabbed the door handle and opened it, motioning to the children one last, desperate time, to keep silent. 

It was no use. 

“Papa, papa, come quick, please!” William cried at the top of his voice as I stepped through the threshold. 

I scurried down the path to the gate and was shocked that as I reached to lift the bolt that Feargal came storming out of the house. He was still in his pajamas, but had managed to pull on his great-coat and boots in the mere seconds that had elapsed. I was so struck by his sudden appearance that I stood frozen in place for a moment until I realized that he was nearly upon me. 

I darted onto the road and turned to head towards the town and the main road there, only to be blocked by him as he ran through the gate and stood in my path. 

“Helen, what are you doing? Get back in the house this instant!” he exclaimed. 

I shook my head and retreated, back down the street, although there was only the beach and the ocean in that direction. 

“What’s gotten into you?” he persisted, following my every step but allowing me to maintain a distance between us. 

“He needs to be baptized,” I stammered, clutching tightly at the bundle in my arms as he started to stir. 

“Of course he does. I told you, I’m arranging it with Reverend Devlin.”

“No,” I snarled, “he needs to be baptized tonight. He can’t wait any longer.”

“Ok, I haven’t spoken to the Reverend yet,” he admitted, moving towards me as I continued to back away. “I’m sorry that I haven’t kept my word. But I’ll speak to him first thing in the morning, I promise. Just come back inside and come to bed.”

He extended an arm to me and I felt my heart breaking. How could I have thought such horrible things of him? But just as I was about to take his hand, a cloud crossed the moon and as it did, I saw the face of the demon, the shadowy skin and white eyes, the voraciousness and danger and I could no longer convince myself that this man was merely the gentle country pastor I had believed him to be. 

“You cannot have him,” I spat. And I turned and ran as fast as I could- not terribly fast, I will admit- even though I knew I was running towards a dead end. 

The thudding of footsteps behind me was my greatest impetus to keep moving and so when I reached the rickety stairs that lead down to the beach, I did not hesitate. I nearly fell and crushed Michael against my chest to try to protect him from the roughness of the descent. Once on the sand, I continued to scramble along as best I could, until I felt my arm grabbed roughly from behind. I spun away, tightening my grip on the baby and screamed in anger and fear. 

“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” he shouted at me, struggling to be heard over the fierce wind off the sea. 

“I know you mean to take him, to harm him. I know what you are,” I cried triumphantly. “You think that I’ll let you steal him away and condemn him to hell with you?”

“For God’s sake, Helen, this is insanity! He’s my son!”

As he spoke, I once again saw the light of the moon obscured by a cloud and the hungry face of the Demon Balor was revealed to me. He reached forward repeating that Michael was his son and I started to run again, almost falling as I did.

“He’s my child and you will never take him,” I screamed, stumbling and barely regaining my footing. 

He advanced on me, and as he did his face shifted from the distraught, desperate Feargal Devitt to the hungry, demanding Finn Balor. I wanted to believe that only one of them was real. I wanted to believe that I could separate them. But why would God have favoured me with a perfect husband and happy life? Who was I to deserve to be Mrs. Devitt, wife of the country pastor? 

I backed away as fast as I could, careful to watch him for any sudden moves. 

“Is this what happened with Sarah?” I taunted. “It is, isn’t it? She knew what you’d do if she had a third child, knew that you’d claim it and take it away.”

“Helen, please…”

“But she tricked you, didn’t she?” I continued, trying to be mindful of the stones in my path. “When she found out she was going to have a third child, she went to see the woman in the village, Susan’s aunt. She wanted to get rid of it, didn’t she?”

“Stop it now, you need to come home.”

“And you must have been furious when you found out.” I found myself piecing the story together as I spoke, more upset with every syllable but unable to stop myself from continuing. “Did you attack her? Is that why she ran from your house in the middle of the night? Did she die trying to escape your wrath or did you smash her skull against the rocks of that cave?”

At that, he lunged at me, knocking me down as he tried to wrest the precious bundle from my arms. I landed hard but the sand was at least a little forgiving and despite being winded by the fall, I continued to struggle with him, to keep him from claiming my innocent child. 

I sat up, clawing at his face, which did force him back a little. I clutched my baby in one arm as I tried desperately to scratch and slap at Feargal, at Balor, at both of them together, until he fell back on his haunches, panting for breath. 

“He’s not moving, Helen,” he shouted at me. “Why isn’t he moving?”

I didn’t want to allow him to distract me, but I knew that the bundle in my arms had stayed unnaturally still. Looking down, I tapped at his face to revive him, my breath quickening when I could not get a response. A heavy hand landed painfully on my shoulder as I struggled to wake Michael from his slumber. 

“What’s wrong?” he shrieked. 

“I don’t know,” I sobbed, rubbing at his tiny chest with my hand. 

“What have you done, Helen?” he roared, shaking me by the shoulder. “What have you done?”

[ythmir-writes]

hellooo oneesama :> I'd like to request for Masanari + Luck hehe. Thank you for always gracing us with your amazing stories

(a/n: imouto~ ahhhh im sorry it took so long and i hope this can make you smile the way you always make me smile! |▽//)ゝthank you for reading them ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ) please have some Masanari goodness in thee dark times // i hope you and your family are safe!

fandom: SLBPcharacter: Masanarino warnings

Luck

I have known Master Masanari for two winters now, and I was certain it was not by chance that his footsteps were always so soft as to be imperceptible whenever he approached my chambers.

I know this, because he does not bother to hide himself when he approaches the other rooms. His footsteps sounded as close to a normal samurai’s footsteps as a ninja could replicate: heavy and steady with honorable purpose – and more importantly, loud.

At least, to my ears, they were very loud.

I had lost count of the times when I would hear Master Masanari approaching the infirmary, where I usually stayed when I was not in my chambers, administering medicines and salves to the wounded or sick retainers. I would hear him round off a corner, open the other rooms as if searching for something, stop and exit the hallway, before returning a few moments later and finally opening the door to the infirmary with a pleased smile on his face to meet my own scowl.

He was doing both on purpose: lumbering about, knowing too well that once I had heard him, all my senses become attuned to expect a surprise; and softening his presence to invisibility, knowing I could do nothing about it, before very casually rupturing any concentration I may have had.

To what end, I do not know. As it was often with that enigma of a man, he could be doing it out of the tragic ennui he always claimed to have. And if it were, it would not be the first time.

I have seen him do far worse to stave off boredom.

So it could be said then, that trying to send me into the afterlife with fright was his more menial hobbies.

One moment, I would be quietly mixing my potions – grinding, mashing, measuring, tasting, testing – and the next, I would sense a presence beside me too little too late, and I would jump from my skin, hissing; sometimes spilling my ingredients, sometimes spewing a few profanities even, one time nearly burning a very rare flower and an arm. But always rounding onto an amused and smiling Master Masanari, asking for forgiveness he knows I would not withhold.

But a line has to be drawn somewhere.

“Is my dying of fright your goal?” I finally hollered at him, standing up and glaring, and then having enough even of that because I know that any more staring at him could very well end with me blurting out that everything was okay without him asking for it.  

“Let us hope it would not end with that.” Masanari answered, settling down. “It would be every dull for me, truly, if you did.”

I scowled. I should not have expected a straight answer. “So it is your actual goal?”

“Hardly.” Masanari gave me another of his smiles. “A pity only one of us actually trusts your skills to hold a little scare, every now and then –”

“My what?”

“ – so I do not see how or why you think a little surprise is enough to end you, or that my goal is to scare you to death.” He shook his head. “That is not exactly my style, don’t you think?”

I stared at him through narrowed eyes. Was this for real? Was I truly under the tutelage of a man who not only considered my death dull, but answered in the same breath that his preferred method of killing would not be so simple?

“Unbelievable.” I managed to say. Master Masanari only angled his head.

I huffed in indignation, turning away from him and forcing my attention back to what I had been doing, kneeling down to clean up my scattered materials. The leaves I had been separating into five groups were now a mess and I had to start over.

A pain, to be honest. The fresh leaves could be clustered separately from the dried ones with my eyes closed but then the greens nearly all looked alike, and I would have to examine them again under sunlight to get it right. A task for tomorrow, as it was very nearly dusk. Perhaps this should be a lesson for me; that I must bundle a group together one a time, instead of separating them at the same time and risk wasting my efforts. Or, better yet, maybe I should go to the market tomorrow to buy those little boxes I have seen alchemists use. No chance of me spilling any ingredients then.

“Now this will simply not do.”

I turned my head back to look at Master Masanari. “What –?”

But I was too late. Again.

Master Masanari, the better ninja of the two of us even on his worst days, was suddenly very close, hands planted on either side of me, and despite me being nearly as tall as him, despite our knees touching the same spot, in that fraction of space he seemed to tower above me, take the space of the room.

I gasped, and Master Masanari took the opportunity to lean in even closer, and closer, and closer, until all I could see was him, his hair a curtain to shield my view from anything else. All I could see was every line on his face, the wavering of his lashes, the specks of black in the silver of his eyes, and the way I was reflected on them, staring at him in mute shock at our closeness, and a zing of something like fear at what he could possibly do next.

But was it truly fear?

It should be, shouldn’t it? With the way Master Masanari was examining me with nearly equal fevered interest, eyes moving from my brows to my nose to my mouth, and then staring back at me. With the way each part of me that was in contact with him was acutely aware of the fact.

“It will simply not do.” Masanari repeated, voice low.

I could not find it in myself to speak, not when he was so close, not when every breath I exhaled was his to take. Not when I knew the slightest movements could trigger a reaction I would not be able to anticipate and –

“You continue to deprive me of what I crave even when I go to great lengths to acquire it.”

“I don’t understand. I just – !” I stopped mid-protest, feeling my lips brush against his as I spoke. Or did it really happen? Was I imagining it? Master Masanari suddenly seemed too far away to kiss. Had he moved? Had I moved?

Then, Master Masanari seemed to lean in even closer again.

It was more reflex than anything else. I raised my hands to his chest in surprise. The rest of the movements followed, years of training speaking only for the strength in my grip and the way I pushed Master Masanari down.

No. Not pushed. I knew I was capable of such only because Master Masanari did not protest himself, did not offer even the slightest bit of resistance. He moved the way I (or he) wanted to move and before I could even begin to comprehend the situation, I (or it had always been him) had ended it.

And in a complete turnaround, I was looking down on him.

Was it his machinations or luck that allowed me to see him like this now? Beneath me, hair sprawled as if to frame him, my hands on his shoulders superficially holding him down.

I frowned at him, at his complacency, at the utterly baffling circumstances I have found ourselves in. “Am I truly capable of doing such, Master Masanari? Deprive you of something you want? You?”

“And yet my little mouse keeps running from me. At least, until now.” Masanari raised his hands, touched my cheeks, traced my jaws, my neck, settled themselves loosely on my arms. “Now, she has decided to draw the line.”

I stared at him. The pieces clicking into place.

Master Masanari must have been able to read what was going through my head. He chuckled, a sound that only made me even more keenly aware of how melodious his voice could be this close, and keenly aware of his body moving underneath me.

Maybe I should have moved, turned away from him when he lay beneath me. Teasing me like this, entering my personal space, as welcome as it was, was another frequent banter between us, and he had always stopped shy of anything intimate.

But neither of us were moving away.

Master Masanari slowly raised a brow, before giving me a look I had never before seen from him. A look I was unable to truly comprehend for it was something that did not seem to fit him – gentle, warm, maybe even affectionate. A look I wanted him to have when he looked at me, and only at me. A look I wanted to gaze upon for days. A look I wanted to memorize, but before I could even try, before I could even string all these thoughts together he was kissing me.

Or maybe, I had kissed him first.

 And there was no other thought to be had.

33/182

[cinemavariety]

The Director’s Series: Nicolas Winding Refn

The director series will consist of me concentrating on the filmography of all my favorite directors. I will rank each of their films according to my personal taste. I hope this project will provide everyone with quality recommendations and insight into films that they might not have known about. Today’s director in spotlight is Nicolas Winding Refn

#9 - Fear X (2003) Runtime: 1 hr 31 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1         Film Format: 35mm

When his wife is killed in a seemingly random incident Harry, prompted by mysterious visions, journeys to discover the true circumstances surrounding her murder.

Verdict: Refn’s most forgotten about film, even I have a hard time remembering that this film is part of his oeuvre. Nevertheless, Fear X is a quiet and lingering exercise in style. It’s a surrealist film noir with heavy influences from David Lynch. It’s also the first time where Refn began experimenting with color and started to move away from shaky cam.

#8 - The Pusher Trilogy (1996/2004/2005) Runtime: 1 hr 45 min / 1 hr 40 min / 1 hr 30 min Aspect Ratio: 1.66 : 1 / 1.85 : 1 /  1.85 : 1                 Film Format: 16mm / 35mm / 35mm

A drug pusher grows increasingly desperate after a botched deal leaves him with a large debt to a ruthless drug lord.

Verdict: I made the decision to categorize all three Pusher films as one entry for this post (otherwise it would just be too many). Nicolas Winding Refn started off his career with the strong crime tale of Pusher, and made the last two films to complete the trilogy after his English language debut Fear X ended up bombing. While I love the first and third entry more than I do the second, all three Pusher films are captivating and anxiety-ridden crime docudramas. It’s a great way to see how far Refn has evolved by starting with these films first.

#7 - Bleeder (1999) Runtime: 1 hr 38 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

Two stories for the price of one: Lenny works in a video shop and tries to get acquainted with the waitress Lea. Leo can't cope with the pressure of becoming a father, leading to trouble with his pregnant wife and especially her brother.

Verdict: While Bleeder might be Refn’s lowest budget film to date, and not all the violence comes off as extremely convincing, I enjoyed it more than all three Pusher films because of the emotional stakes within the story. Multiple characters lives intertwine and interconnect in oftentimes disastrous circumstances. I also loved how Mads Mikkelsen’s character is a huge film aficionado, all of the scenes he is featured in bring a much needed reprieve from the turmoil and abuse.

#6 - Too Old to Die Young (2019) Runtime: 15 hr Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1                     Film Format: Arri Alexa Digital

The numb existences of Martin Jones, a police officer with secrets to hide, and Jesus, a traumatized avenging son, collide in a ghostly Los Angeles where several ruthless criminal gangs fight for their turf and dictate who lives and who dies. Verdict: Too Old To Die Young finds the celebrated auteur, Nicolas Winding Refn, sharing his view of humanity and society at its most despicable. All of his usual motifs and creative decisions are employed in full force with Too Old To Die Young, sometimes to an almost unbearable degree unless you are a truth Refn aficionado. His long takes, infinitesimal silences between lines, neon lighting, synth score and characters belonging to a criminal underworld are all utilized to great affect within the series. And while I believe that Refn’s sensibilities are best conveyed through a film medium, the limited series allows Refn to explore what he wants to convey like an artist adding layer upon layer of colors onto a blank palette.

#5 - Bronson (2008) Runtime: 1 hr 32 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: 35mm

A young man who was sentenced to 7 years in prison for robbing a post office ends up spending 30 years in solitary confinement. During this time, his own personality is supplanted by his alter ego, Charles Bronson. Verdict: Bronson is quite possibly Tom Hardy’s most impressive performance, and that’s saying a lot. It exudes such a hypnotic quality that every time I watch it, it’s as if I am seeing the film for my very first time. It tells the true story of one of Britain’s most infamous criminals.Refn’s visual flair and unique filming style make it unlike any other prison film I’ve ever witnessed. This is the beginnings of Refn’s disinterest in traditional narrative structure.

#4 - Only God Forgives (2013) Runtime: 1 hr 30 min Aspect Ratio: 1.85 : 1 Film Format: Red Epic Digital

Julian, who runs a Thai boxing club as a front organization for his family’s drug smuggling operation, is forced by his mother Crystal to find and kill the individual responsible for his brother’s recent death. 

Verdict: This is easily Refn’s most frustrating film. Whenever I watch it, I’m unsure whether I adore it or dislike it. But the fact that it’s the Refn film I have probably revisited the most is extremely telling of the ambience that Refn creates. Only God Forgives is arguably the most beautifully shot film from Nicolas. The neon drenched streets of Bangkok are presented to look like a netherworld. It’s a revenge fantasy thriller mixed with Oedipal undertones. Also, Gosling looks like a treat in every frame.

#3 - Valhalla Rising (2009) Runtime: 1 hr 33 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: Red One Digital

1000 AD, for years, One Eye, a mute warrior of supernatural strength, has been held prisoner by the Norse chieftain Barde. Aided by Are, a boy slave, One Eye slays his captor and together he and Are escape, beginning a journey into the heart of darkness. On their flight, One Eye and Are board a Viking vessel, but the ship is soon engulfed by an endless fog that clears only as the crew sights an unknown land. As the new world reveals its secrets and the Vikings confront their terrible and bloody fate, One Eye discovers his true self. 

Verdict: Valhalla Rising is Refn’s dirtiest and bloodiest work, and it certainly finds the director at his most surreal and existential. If anyone wants to know a film that epitomized what it means to be considered art house - this is it. It’s a film about a slave finding emancipation from his tyrannous slave owners, and finds himself on a doomed voyage to the New World with a group of fanatical Christian vikings. The story is told in separate chapters, with each section the audience finds itself traveling down a rabbit hole that resembles something of an acid try gone awry.

#2 - The Neon Demon (2016) Runtime: 1 hr 57 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: Arri Alexa XT Plus Digital

When aspiring model Jesse moves to Los Angeles, her youth and vitality are devoured by a group of beauty-obsessed women who will take any means necessary to get what she has.

Verdict: The Neon Demon has grown to become my second favorite movie from Nicolas. The film succeeds in shedding light on the hedonistic lifestyle of deranged young women in a tongue-in-cheek, almost satirical fashion. It’s one of the best looking Refn films to date, with even banal or commonplace locations drenched in neon hues. Composer Cliff Martinez outdoes himself with the synth-heavy score which guides the audience along a fairytale of horrors. In Refn’s surreal vision of Los Angeles there is no such thing as going too far to reach fame, even if it means bloodshed. As one character says in the film: “Beauty isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” It would be nice to write off this statement as pure subjectivity, but what else has the media taught us but this ideal?

#1 - Drive (2011) Runtime: 1 hr 40 min Aspect Ratio: 2.35 : 1 Film Format: Arri Alexa & Cooke S4 Digital

A Hollywood stunt performer who moonlights as a wheelman for criminals discovers that a contract has been put on him after a heist gone wrong. 

Verdict: Seeing Drive in theatres back in 2011, without even having seen a film from Refn and not knowing much of the plot in general, is hands down one of the most memorable and inspiring theatrical experiences I ever had. Drive, among many other films that came out around that time, acted as a catalyst for me to branch out and discover more independent and arthouse filmmakers. I believe that it is undoubtedly Refn’s best film, and I might dare say that might be credited to the fact that is one of the only Refn films in which he didn’t write. These characters, while quiet and mysterious, have more depth to them than any of his others. The quiet romance between Drive and Irene provide more emotional stakes than any of his other works as well. All the elements of Drive complement each other and build off of each other. As cheesy as it may sound, if any film could be considered cool - it’s this. It’s already gained a cult status and it will most definitely go down in history as one of the most beautiful crime noirs ever made.

[stayin-dreams]

aesthetic tag

tagged by: @theleemark (sorry for taking so long btw)

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add 20 of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold :)

[soft] baby pink | iridescent | glitter is always a good option | no bra | minimalistic tattoos | cherry patterns | sweet scented perfumes | wearing generous amounts of blush | doodling hearts | getting excited to pet an animal | fun nails | rewatching old barbie movies | hair sticking to glossed lips | heart shaped sunglasses | taking pictures of the sunset or sunrise | stuffed animals | protecting nature | stickers everywhere | teen movies | the light rain that falls from a clear sky at the beginning of the night 

[dark academia] neutral tones | masculine outfits | studying languages | worn down copy of books | grey skies | turtleneck sweaters | loose fitting pants | hair tied with a silk ribbon | trying to remember a cool difficult word you read somewhere to use in a convo | thick belts | minimal makeup | windows fogged by rain | vintage jewelry | blouses with cuffed sleeves | reading a murder mystery and trying to solve it | oxford style shoes | sweater vests | subtitled old movies in a language you don’t speak | leaves crackling as you walk | annotating books to express your emotions about the story 

[edgy] closet full of dark clothes | fishnet tights | makeup sweating off | neon signs | searching for unknown songs | chokers | band tees | doodling on old converses | finding smoking aesthetically pleasing but not doing it | weird humor | accidentally very dramatic | dim lights | layered outfits | chain belts | chipped nail polish | messy hair | low quality pics | piercings | combat boots | scribbling on desks 

[seventies] colourful wardrobe | doodling flowers | wearing short shorts | using a bikini top or bra as a normal top | listening to ABBA | flowers in your hair | DIYing everything | jamming to songs alone in your room | drunkenly telling your friends you love them | patterned bandanas | mid heeled shoes | messy braids | flared sleeves | walking barefoot on grass or sand | bold sunglasses | the good kind of tired you get after doing something you enjoy for hours | feeding stray animals | fun patterned socks | room decorated with succulents and other plants | likes to go roller skating or skateboarding 

[preppy casual] collared clothes | drinking juice out of a champagne glass | getting excited to see the met gala looks | thick headbands | small pastel cardigans | making your friends take your ootd pics | plaid mini skirts | tweed two pieces | watching reality tv to pass time | frilly tops | watching old hollywood movies | academically driven | long manicured nails | new year’s eve fireworks | colorful tights | layered golden jewelry | yearns for luxury brand items | decorating your room with fairy-lights | cursive and neat handwriting | lace details

[parfaitjoon] old book smell | doodles of eyes | stained paint palettes | jewel tones | sleepy eyes and red noses | always blushed cheeks | plushies with sentimental value | keroppi | ever-switching aesthetics | chunky trainers | curvy bodies | blurry vision | analysing movies | shouting when excited | green eye shadow | cool fresh water | tiny frogs | thirst for knowledge | random facts

[dreamiehrs] playing Roblox for 3 hours straight | loud laugh that could probably make someone deaf | listening to music 24/7 | hot chocolate on a chilly day | skirts galore | cat lady | has 2 fans on at all times | hibernates during the summer (not literally) | binge watching tons of anime episodes in one day | dark circles underneath their eyes | is on Tumblr 24/7 | loves buying merch | does online shopping in the middle of class | cannot go 1 day without screaming about their faves | having a dance party in their bathroom while getting ready for the day | has an obsession with buying tiny plants | lowkey never goes outside | wanting to write the day away | has millions of lists for every little thing | cannot stop doing the Chika dance

[bumblebeenct] midnight milkshake runs | listening to 80s music in the car with friends | bees moving flower to flower | study posters | too much stationary | drinking games | sunsets on the beach | studio ghibli piano playlists | starting a tv show and forgetting to finish | long-distance skype calls | having a song for every occasion | flared jeans | vintage 50′s dresses | jumping to a rock song at a party | bathroom mirror selfies | doctor martens | lanyard with keychains | movie days with friends | late night horror movies | too many blankets

[theleemark] memorizing flowers & their meanings | falling in love with fictional characters | late night car rides | mom jeans | sunflowers & sunshine | poetry | drinking tea | purple photoshoot aesthetic | falling asleep with a stuffed animal | stress baking | being the mom friend | random pick up lines | crime podcasts | stargazing | always sending love (sometimes through wholesome memes) | ice cream dates | spontaneous adventures | falling in love with cities | loving chocolate | 2 am guitar jams | soft rain with lofi music

[staymoarmyzen] play odd and unpopular games | loving biology, math and psychology | know the scientific name of some flowers & animals for fun | bad photographer | memes and smash keyboard | would still believe in santa claus if no one had told the truth | jump when excited | dolphin scream | emoticons over emojis | can accidentally use two different languages while talking | dress either as colorful as a kid and as dark as a gothic | loud laughter and mute laughter | would most likely know the lyrics of a song but won’t know the name of the song | discussions about mythical creatures and aliens existence | can read upside down | animes over netflix series | do origamis during boring classes | extrovert | loving bowling & karaoke | nerdy

tagging: @mona-devilthatdraws @give-seconds @ovelha-colorida-v @hwanunjin (if you were already tagged I am sorry and if you don’t want to do this is ok)

[bubble-tea-bunny]

a painted lady 

[carol danvers x reader]

author’s note: i started watching iasip and it’s so funnyyy i love it so much. anyway, here’s something short and sweet for my girl carol. hope you enjoy  <3

word count: 2,737

Spring announces its arrival with the melting of the snow and the crisp mornings which give way to a sunny afternoon and a gentle breeze not nearly as harsh as the winter gusts that makes cheeks flush and stings the sensitive skin. Warmer weather begins popping up on the forecast. The days grow longer. The flowers bloom. There are many telltale signs to the changing of the season, but this year, they’re joined by a rare spectacle that has become the main topic for news stations and strangers making small talk in the coffee shops or at bus stops.

Channel 2 is on mute, but Carol hasn’t bothered un-muting it or even looking at the screen, since the view outside the bedroom window is exactly the same. Butterflies flutter past the glass in great numbers, taking their time with the plants on the front lawn. The neighbors’ houses aren’t bound to be any different, nor would anywhere else in town really. Seeing butterflies isn’t out of the ordinary when spring is approaching, but what is out of the ordinary is just how many there are. They’re everywhere.

Carol catches the sight of orange wings with black bands on them, and speculates aloud. “Monarchs?” To an outside observer, it might appear as though she’s asking this to thin air.

“No. Painted ladies,” you respond from the ensuite bathroom. After you’ve combed the tangles out of your hair, you set the brush down and walk back into the bedroom. “A little smaller than monarchs.”

Carol hums in acknowledgment, and takes a few more seconds to study the bright swarm before she lets her hand drop and the curtain shifts back into place. She turns around and grins when she sees you across the room putting on your watch. You’re wearing your usual lip color today: a bold red shade that brings out your eyes. “You’re a painted lady.”

That color hadn’t always been a staple in your makeup routine, and Carol has the sneaking suspicion it had found its way there after she had mentioned how much she liked it on you the first time she saw you in it. You’d been so unsure of it then, but she genuinely liked it. While she had told you as much, she’s sure you also could tell by the sincerity in her voice and the earnestness on her face. Not that it’d be difficult for you pick up on what she is thinking. You read people like books and she’s your favorite novel, one you know from front cover to back.

Even at this distance, you notice her gaze lowering to your lips and you roll your eyes but you’re smiling too. “I guess I am.”

Carol had closed the gap between you as you made your comment, and she leans in close. You’re about to take a step back and tell her At least give it a minute! but it’s too late. She steals a kiss and laughs at your expression of playful incredulity.

“It hasn’t even dried down!” You reach up to wipe the bit of lipstick that had transferred to her mouth, then grab the compact on the dresser to check if you would have to re-apply any on yourself.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”  

“That’s what you say every day.”

“Well, it’s true.” She shrugs matter-of-factly.

And you can never even fake being irritated for too long. Once you’ve confirmed that your lipstick is finally completely dry and transfer-proof, you kiss her. This one lasts a little longer, and she meets you with equal enthusiasm. She smells the lavender perfume you wear—every morning, two small spritz, in the soft spots behind your ears. By now, she has your routine memorized, but that’s no surprise because you’re her favorite book too.

The butterflies are immortalized in a small piece you create for your art class. You wave it off as nothing special, but just as with every other instance Carol has had the opportunity to see your finished art sitting on the easel, oils still setting and your familiar signature with its trademark loops and elaborate flourishes (“My signature is not that fancy!”) tucked away in a corner, she shakes her head and says, “It’s amazing.”

You stand side by side, surveying the canvas like you’re in a museum studying a painting on the wall. You’re mulling it over, considering her compliment and staring at the butterflies and she’s right, you think. It’s not so bad at all. You can’t help smiling because of how supportive she is, has been, and would continue to be, for it’s in her nature to pick you up when you’re down, and a warmth bubbles in your chest.

“Thanks.”

Carol’s watched your artistic endeavors from the sidelines, which she has been happy to do. She doesn’t have much to complain about when she has the front row. As such, when you come home one day and ask if she’d help you with your newest project, her brows raise at the unexpected request.

“I don’t know how much help I can be, but sure. What is it?”

“I need a model.”

Her eyes light up and her grin is big. “How should I pose? Maybe something dramatic?” She rests her wait on one foot and juts out her hip, setting her hand on it and angling her head slightly downward so as to look up at you in mock seduction. “Or maybe something fancier?” She stands back up straight and reaches over to grab an apple from the fruit bowl, then holds it up as if scrutinizing it closely, her other arm folded neatly behind her back.

You laugh at the various poses she strikes, and she breaks character quickly, laughing as well. “No, nothing like that, although that would be pretty fun.” You take a deep breath as you calm down. “I’ll have to get back to you on pose ideas. I’m not really sure what mood I’m trying to go for here. The prompt was really vague.”

“But that’s good right? More open avenues.” Carol sets the apple back down and leans back against the counter with crossed arms.

“It is, but it can be overwhelming too… The key is just to let the inspiration come to me. If I try too hard to come up with ideas, I might just get more frustrated than anything else…”

While waiting for this inspiration, you fill your time with sketches, thumbnail drawings of people in motion and positioned this way and that. You also draw Carol quite a bit. It’s your warmup for when you move onto the real piece, and if she hadn’t noticed whenever you stared before, she definitely does now, catching your eyes as you look up at her then back down at your sketchbook.

You draw her over and over again, pages of your sketchbook filled with her face at different angles and wearing various expressions. Even if the drawings are hasty, the care behind each is apparent. You ache to understand every detail, the natural sway of her hair as she turns her head whenever you call her name; the crinkle of the corners of her eyes when she flashes you a wide smile; the high points of her cheeks that catch the sunlight just right. And Carol peers over your shoulder at these pictures and she knows exactly what you are trying to do and she understands that you don’t just see with your eyes. You see with your hands.

One slow morning you’re doing it again, sketchbook in your lap and pencil in hand. Carol’s still laying down, drifting in and out, her body trying to cling to the last bits of sleep but she can’t tune out the scribbling and scrawling and the erasing. She’s not mad about it though; she probably shouldn’t be trying to sleep this late into the day anyway. So she rolls onto her side and props herself up on her elbow to look at you better—you’re sitting cross-legged facing her, which means she can’t see the page.

“How many times is this now?” she asks to break the silence.

You glance up at her but don’t answer immediately, your eyes tracing the line of her jaw, which you then replicate on the paper. “I dunno. Haven’t been keeping count. But I need to make sure I get everything… perfect…” You trail off, enamored with your task.

The fact is, you don’t draw many people. Portraits aren’t your forte, and that’s the main reason you’ve had to draw Carol as many times as you have before you take out your paints. Still, she can’t resist teasing. “You’ve never drawn me before this, have you?”

“No…” More scribbling.

“This isn’t quite playing out like those romance movies where the artist draws their partner all the time.” She tries to sound disappointed, but it falls apart the moment you look at her with a raised brow, and she cracks a grin.

“Since when have you wanted one of those storybook romances?” you shoot back, playing along.

“Hm…” She purses her lips pretends to be deep in thought. “Ever since you started drawing me I guess. I have to admit, it’s flattering, and you make me look good.”

You chuckle. “While by this point I’m confident I could draw you from memory, drawing from reference is always better.” You grow quiet again, presumably putting the finishing touches on your newest study, then set it off to the side as you turn your attention back to Carol. “And for the record, I only draw what I observe, so if anything, you make you look good, not me.”

Carol’s not one for bashfulness, but there’s something about your tone and how you look at her that prompts her to avert her gaze as she suddenly finds the white bedsheets very interesting. She only ever reacts like this to compliments when they come from you because you’re the artist and you can find the beauty in everything so when you say that you found it in her, well, that’s the highest honor, isn’t it?

Her eyes slide back up and you’re grinning because you know what your words can do to her. You want her to love herself like she loves you. Plus, you won’t lie: you like having this power. Shy Carol is a rare sight (and a sight, she would tell you, is reserved solely for you).

Deciding the space between you is too great, you crawl forward into Carol’s bubble to kiss her and she welcomes you because really, her bubble’s got enough space for two.

When you paint, you tie your hair into a bun and use paintbrushes to hold it in place. Carol won’t admit it but she really likes when you do that. You also change into clothes you don’t care about getting dirty, like a ragged and flimsy shirt with loose threads and a pair of sweatpants with holes. They’re well-used and paint-stained, much like the plastic storage cabinets in your art room.

The designated art room of the house is organized chaos, but there’s a certain charm to it. It’s the physical manifestation of all the ideas you have in your head, and Carol feels privileged that she’s able to take a peek into your mind via the drawings taped to the walls and the sketchbooks stacked on the desk. It’s the room with the largest windows and she’s not surprised you’d created more butterfly paintings since the first one; you can see them all the time.

She’s seeing them right now from the glass sliding door leading to the backyard. It’s dark out, but a few painted ladies remain exploring, not yet ready to turn in for the night. Her cup of coffee has been empty for a few minutes now, and her attention only shifts when she hears your footsteps padding through the hallway.

“You okay?”

It’s late and the darkness always seems to warrant lowered voices. Your enquiry is gentle and fatigued, and Carol turns to look at you rubbing your eyes, an attempt to fight off sleep but that’s a losing battle.

“Yeah,” she replies, speaking quietly in turn. You join her in staring outside. “There’s been so many of those butterflies.” While the painted ladies have been around for a few weeks now, she, as well as many others in town, still like to reiterate the peculiarity of the occasion. The subject hasn’t gotten old, and it might not anytime soon. It’s too special to gloss over that easily.

You hum and smile sightly, and Carol spots it in the reflection on the glass. Then you tell her you’re going to clean up and go to bed. You sound faraway, evidence of sleep finally taking over, and she grins as she nods okay. She kisses you quickly and says good night.

As for her, she lingers for a short while before following your lead, taking her time washing her mug and setting it on the drying rack where it would be ready for the next day. One of your sketchbooks is on the dining table, so she picks it up and walks to your art room to return it. The only light on in the house is that in the bedroom, visible through the crack at the bottom of the door, but she needs none to find her way to her destination.

The moonlight pouring in from the windows is enough to illuminate the canvas sitting on the easel. After Carol sets the sketchbook down with the others, she walks over to inspect your current work in progress. It’s not finished, but you’ve completed enough of it that she recognizes herself staring back, and she understands that you don’t make paintings; you make mirrors.

This is your final draft, she realizes. It’s the culmination of all your studies, in which you’ve enshrined the planes of her face on paper and on canvas and in your mind because your soul will live forever and you carry the thought of her like a rabbit’s foot tucked into your pocket.

One of your sketchbooks is open on the desk next to the easel, and she picks it up so she can see the page more clearly. It’s from the morning you’d drawn her while in bed, the picture she hadn’t seen at the time. This is the reference you’re using. She’d been wondering why you hadn’t yet gotten back to her about pose ideas, or announced that you’d be starting the final piece so she’d better clear her Saturday to be your model. She just assumed you wanted more time to practice and to settle upon the perfect pose for the mood you wanted.

And the perfect pose, it would seem, was no pose at all. Carol’s posture in the drawing and the painting is relaxed, half her body concealed by the bedsheets she’d struggled to untangle herself from that morning (they’d just been so comfortable). She’s propping herself up on her elbow and the hand of her other arm rests atop the blankets. Her eyes stare directly ahead, like she’s watching the viewer, and even she’s unable to deny the sense of intimacy this affords. It makes the viewer an active participant rather than a mere observer, which appears to be your goal—you want the viewer in your shoes. You want them to feel what you feel.

Carol’s eyes switch back and forth from the sketchbook to the canvas, comparing the details. The painting is still missing a date and signature, but they’re present in the drawing, at the bottom and off to the side so as to be non-invasive. There’s a title too, in quotation marks: My Favorite Place. Her chest blooms with warmth and her lips curve in a fond smile. You want the viewer to feel at home.

There’s a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach, an inexplicable mix of heaviness like there’s something there and an airiness like she’s about to sprout wings and lift off from the ground. Her heart wrenches hard enough she swears it might shatter—for you, always for you. She loves you with every bone in her body and perhaps the town’s influx of extraordinary visitors these last few weeks has been her doing because every time she thinks of you, she gets butterflies.

[neo-shitty]

toffee!

no dont apologise! i didnt check until just then so np :)

mmm yeah it is a bit trippy. hehe ITS TRUE THO. yeah sadly i think ur right, and tag blocking is probably a good idea. sometimes smut written well or not in excess is okay but goddamn when its abt 01 line and thats the whole fic... *silently blocks tags*

hehe i do that all the time lol this conversation is carrying on threads from a month ago :) mmm yeah ur probably right sadly, same. HA HE DIDNT HAVE A CHOICE and now i have someone to talk to abt them, so thats good! I KNOW felix was actually the one who got me into skz with his iconique gods menu line so i guess i have a soft spot for him. i always tell myself my bias is chan but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess im more whipped than id like to admit. mmm yeah that does make sense dw i hope they do that as well. YES king seungmin hIMSELF. GODDAMNIT DONT GET ME STARTED ON MINHO IN GODS MENU I DIDNT EVEN KNOW HE WAS PART OF THE GROUP UNTIL I STARTED GETTING MORE INTO THEM. BITCH (affectionate) THE LINE DISTRIBUTION HAS BEEN UTTER DOG SHIT but *deep breath* its better now so were moving on adn hoping it stays that way. sis same but i may or may not have gone thru a rlly depressed phase and actively sought out the elimination episodes so i could actually force some tears out of my emotionless shell of a heart but what cna you do? lmaoo i feel that irl, binnie deserves more vocal lines. yesss channies accent is rlly prominent then, i think also the way he structures his phrasing? is more english speaking than korean? but yeah i totally get what ur saying. AJKSAL lmao

okay then! im excited for whenever it gets done! (maybe tag me?) ahh the cold shrivelled heart of a dark au writer beats again at the thought of torturing another poor characters very soul (/j) :(( yeah that would suck not being able to see them. ohhh ur on the other hemisphere to me! were just going into spring rn. mmm smth to look forward to! YES you put it into words. they rlly are pretty independent from the company (remember how jyp rejected that other dudes songs after like 3 seconds and then how he was apparently nervous to show the song hed written to chan cos chan was so good at writing hits ahhh sweet revenge) mmmYES we rlly need a mute and remove notifications button for our brains dont we?

YES CORRECT i totally agree. some people jsut dont give it a try, adn assume its bad cos its korean smh racist assholes. yes! im coming up to my 6 month anniv actually! sis sAME, i feel like theyre being tugged into appealing to the western american market and theyre not staying as true to their artistic flair as a group, especially with only writing english songs atm. *sigh* ah well, at least theyre bringing recognition to the kpop world. AHUH dead on, theyre going to be discarded pretty soon and then where will bp be? theyll prob go solo paths which is rlly sad but what can you do when the company is run by a prideful asshole? yg is not going to last much longer in the big four if they keep this up.

hehe you get it. oooh very cool! whos ur ult? (sorry if youve said this before) mmmm yeah good decision, i feel liek thats probably a wise decision. this is my first album release as a kpop stan (not counting mixtape oh) so i think ill get it for sentiments sake. yeah! im excited for the new music! mingi was the one who got me into them, but atm my bias is seonghwa followed by san, wooyoung and ateez but jonghos high notes man *swoon* he, yeah atm ive got jake, jay, nikki, jungwon and sunoo down so just trying to get the rest :) heh, yeah kard i rlly only got into cos of bm, ive seen him like interacting with a lot of idols and he seemed nice so i decided to check out the group. ikr gunshot man *another swoon*

no noe! i didnt know what it was until i got it lol. thx toffee ill try and take that to mind :) yeah lol im on a waiting list thats not going to be free until late september so hopefully i can hold on until then. hope ur okay, that sounds like it sucks, hope you can find someone. maybe ill just take you along on my phone and the therapist can get a two for one patient deal lmaooo. mmm, sorry no i havent mentioned it before, i dont rlly talk abt it much. uhhh basically hypermobility? if you google it, it doesnt seem bad, jsut joint flexibility but ive got the severe end of the stick, leaning towards ehlers danlos syndrome so thats fun. basically it just makes it hard for me to exercise, run, jump, stand or just walk for long periods of time and gives me a lot of joint and muscle pain so... thats fun! but obviously so many other people have it worse than me, so i try not to complain. normally in young people it will improve as they get older, but my doctor said bc its severe in me, its unlikely to get much better. but again, i dont have the worst lot in the bunch, so its all g.

oh its good that its not the bad type of rain, a light sprinkling can be relaxing sometimes. aww thx darl, the concern is appreciated but it went pretty well and i managed not to cough too much on stage or kill myself trying to run around to the other side of the stage in the pouring rain so thats good! oooh tea buddies! my dogs a labradoodle, but shes a bit more of a feral poodle lol not much labrador in her at all, unless its her relentless urge to hunt down every bird that has ever walked this earth smh :((( hopefully they can come back on soon, does uni have dances?

ahhh a mood if i ever heard one. hopefully things will get better for you soon, ik anxiety sucks ass. ooh thats always good! when its sunny here, its always melt ur thongs to the pavement hot so the nicely cool sunny days are a lovely change. hehe impatience is not so good for you, but good for us that get to see ur beautiful theme early. ahh no worries, itll come eventually hopefully. and if not, then just things that make you not anxious are good. it doesnt have to be black or white, sometimes gray is good. mmmmm sames i have midterms this week to catch up on and then two weeks of end of terms so thats fun! i hope u can overcome that a little, heres some channie to be ur motivation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8LWyNjzOww. hah! i hear that all the time, he seems to be everywhere. did you see that tiktok of hans slowed back door rap, i stg it sounded EXACTLY like namjoon, it kinda scared me. also teh beginning of another day, sounds so much like joon i swear.

that reminds me! idk ur biases! i feel like this should be smth i should know so please! feel free to elaborate!

ahh im glad, i was worried it is. mmm same, so no hard feelings if either of us misses a day or smth. ill start worrying if weeks/months have gone by, but if its just a little while thats more than fine. ill just picture you studiously completing notes and i wont worry lol

<3 w.a. 🐺

at some point i really think i'm going to start blocking accounts because blocking tags won't be enough. i saw ask tags the other day and it just made me want to bleach my eyeballs.

i could talk about god's menu felix for hours man. the teaser for god's menu that featured his part on the bridge made me look forward to the mv release. you: biases chan, also you: lixiesbabyhands. yes you are more whipped than you think. i can't believe orange haired minho was given NOTHING during that era but they kind of made up for it in the b-sides. i also hope it stays that way. the distribution for this era was pretty fair.

"torturing another poor character's soul" in all honesty, i used to live for this. 2017 me leading up to early 2020 wrote nothing but angst. i have another aussie friend on twt and tbh i'm still really (O.o) about the seasons! jyp should be terrified skz could easily take over that company. heck if skz grow old and start their own company, they'd probably do a great job at running it. PLEASE. i have issues on muting/notifications both mentally and in real life. sometimes, i just wish to disappear.

some people in my country are just disgusting tbh. not only racist but homophobic too. they label kpop as 'gay' and it DISGUSTS me. it's a problematic behavior/mindset people in my country need to fucking get rid of. anyway, HELP ME 6 MONTHS??? and i've been in this shit for like a decade eye. tbh, i’m not fond of kpop groups trying to appeal to the western audience :// it feels like they’re losing their identity in a way. yes recognition but at what cost? yg has my favorite groups but that’s one shitty company when it comes to promoting.

okay my ult! it’s haechan from nct but i consider chan an ult too. like a close second above my whopping list of kpop boys. oh yes! you should get the album just for like a keepsake? remembrance? how did mingi appeal to you? omg did you start getting interested in ateez back when he was still on hiatus? NOT YOU BIASING THE SAME PEOPLE I DID WHEN I FIRST STARTED STANNING. the infamous ateez thot-line. jongho is easily one of the best fourth gen vocalists out here, no one can change my mind :( good luck with memorizing the rest of enhypen! just in time for the comeback too. i hope i’ll get into kard soon but i’m pretty content (and a tad bit overwhelmed) with the amount of groups i stan right now.

please hold on though, feel free to vent here if you like. thanks for the offer tho HAHA but like i’ll try to get checked here too when the cases die down a bit. i’m sorry to hear about your condition though :( please don’t ever overwork yourself to the point that your joints/muscles would ache. it’s completely valid to complain about it tho. i get that you have others in mind but keeping that mindset really doesn’t do you (like you internally) any better? so if you need to, vent your frustrations out and don’t keep it in.

oh my god, about your performance last sunday. was the stage out in the open? glad you didn’t cough too much and did well on your concert. i’m proud of you! i can never understand dogs and poor birds T_T uni doesn’t have dances unfortunately. i think there’s just one party at the end like a graduation ball. what year are you in anyway? if it’s something that you’re fine with sharing. if not, it’s cool.

good luck with your exams! and thanks for the link! AHA what a cutie. i think he does this motivation thing once in a while during his lives and it’s just comforting. yeah joon and han my irl just freaked when we made that discovery. ult crumbs for her. oh god not me forgetting about every biases when you asked. you can ask for my biases in a few groups just list down the one’s you’re interested in knowing. 

i missed yesterday because i was grinding and finishing what if we stay + school work. finally did it today. i’m sure i’ll reply in like a day or two, definitely not a month unless i state otherwise. if i ever decide to abandon this blog, i’ll let you know.

[emeraldspiral]

Initial thoughts after just getting out of Solo

Loved it. WAY better than Rogue One. As I’ve said before, premise < execution. Was this a story that was wanted or needed? No. Was it a coherent story with compelling characters whose fates you can get invested in? Absolutely.

There were loads of characters in Solo, but every one of them was more memorable than the entire cast of Rogue One put together.

There was also a lot of name-dropping so-and-so who works for the what’s-their-name crew on random planet IV who are in the midst of a turf war with the something-something syndicate, but it’s still easy enough to follow on a first-time viewing.

I fucking love that the Imperial March is a canonical musical composition that exists in the Star Wars universe and they use it in army recruitment ads. Now all they need is a bunch of PSAs for the kids at the Imperial Academy staring Darth Vader talking about physical fitness and getting detention and having your time wasted by disappointing end-credits scenes.

Starts out insanely fast paced but it does still give you breathing room between big action set-pieces to have nice character moments.

I do feel like it was kind of a cheat that we just completely skipped over the training Han went through to become such a great pilot. It’s the thing he’s best known for and constantly referenced throughout the film, yet we go straight from him signing up to having already been kicked out and moved to infantry. Like, why couldn’t he have just run into Beckett and crew while still part of the flight academy?

The four-armed guy totally reminds me of Rocket Raccoon.

The film overall gives off strong Guardians of the Galaxy vibes, what with everyone being morally gray outlaws who can’t decide whether they love or hate each other.

Donald Glover is perfect as Lando.

I love that there was a non-humanoid robot x human element and that the non-human robot actually had the line “I can’t do it when you’re watching”. I feel like they did that just for me.

I also really liked that they explain that Lando pronounces Han’s name weird in Empire on purpose to annoy Han. Now I want a Leia stand-alone that makes it canon that she does that faux-British accent to mock Tarkin and other Imperials and Tarkin calls her “Lee-a” to get her back for it.

Gorgeous costumes are gorgeous.

Qi’ra may not be a Jedi, but she still had some of the sweetest melee combat moves I’ve seen in a Star Wars film.

I wish they hadn’t pussied out on telling us what she did though. Could’ve had a really powerful scene where she actually said something that would make Han, and the audience, look at her differently. Like, if she personally had gone around cutting the tongues off of men, women, and children who tried to stand up to her boss.

When Enfys revealed herself I totally thought she was Beckett’s daughter cause she looked black but she had light skin and red hair. She totally could’ve been his and Val’s kid. But then it turned out the twist was just that Samus Is A Girl and also a good guy.

But then there was a way bigger twist, which I’m honestly quite shocked they actually did. Cause like, general audiences don’t know that Darth Maul’s been alive and kicking in expanded universe canon for years. So I’m sure that left a lot of people scratching their heads, if they even remember how The Phantom Menace ended 19 goddamned years ago. Also if they, like me, forgot that he had like 2 lines in that movie and spent those last 19 years thinking his character was mute.

For a moment I was confused why they left that loose thread hanging with Qi’ra being alive and Han just walking away and not hesitating to chase after the next strong-willed brunette to come into his life, and I thought it was weird and egregious to throw in Darth Maul at the last minute and say that Qi’ra would be “working closely” with him. But I’m onto them now. This is just like Thanos at the end of Avengers 1. They threw him in there not just as an egregious cameo to make fanboys jizz in their pants. They’re setting up the Obi Wan movie.

[aion-rsa]

Talalay’s Terrors! The Director Breaks Down Her 5 Scariest Scenes

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Rachel Talalay knows horror. The British-American filmmaker got her directorial start with 90s horror flicks Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare and Ghost in the Machine before helming cult classic Tank Girl. In the last few decades, she has directed dozens of TV episodes that dip or full-on dive into That Most Chilling Genre. From Doctor Who and Doom Patrol to Supernatural and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Talalay has been asked to tell many a spooky story.

Talalay’s latest, A Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting is a feature film adaptation of the kids comedy horror book series from Joe Ballarini, and it drops on Netflix today. In honor of the occasion and of the Halloween season, of course, we talked to Talalay about five of the scariest scenes she’s ever directed.

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Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare (1991) — Carlos’ Q-Tip Death

Film synopsis: In this sixth film in the classic horror series, Freddy Krueger (Robert Englund) returns with a new target for his terror. After having slaughtered more or less every child in his hometown, Krueger finds new prey in the town where his long-lost daughter works as a therapist for troubled youths.

The scene: Freddy dream-tortures deaf teen Carlos (Ricky Dean Logan) by putting a Q-tip through his ear. In the sequence that follows, Freddy turns sound itself against Carlos, turning his hearing aid device up so that every sound is magnified 1,000-fold until poor Carlo’s head explodes.

Talking to Talalay: “The most important thing is how you’re setting things up,” says Talalay of good horror. “I like this scene because I like the way we build on him not being able to hear, and the way we start with the water drop, and then do the pin, and then do multiple pins, and lead that into the blackboard and the nails on the blackboard.”

Part of the scene’s set-up sees Freddy sticking a Q-tip in Carlos’ ear until it comes out the other side. It’s the kind of horror that plays on a mundane anxiety, says Talalay. “There’s something about [it], says Talalay. “You’re always told, ‘Be careful of Q-tips, you might hurt yourself. Don’t put Q-tips in your ears.’ It’s something we’ve all done and touched on. That’s another reason it works really well.”

Talalay, who has been using the quarantine to go through her troves of production keepsakes, pulls the Freddy’s Dead script out during our Zoom interview. “There were certain things that were in the script that surprised me,” says Talalay, using the example of Freddy’s popping up behind Carlos during his torture sequence, one instance of the villain having a much campier quality than previous films in the franchise.

“It directly says in the script, ‘Freddy is really enjoying mugging it,'” says Talalay. “[It] directly uses the word ‘mugging’ behind Carlos. And I thought, ‘Okay, that’s why I did that.’ Because there’s a version of it where Freddy just pops up, there’s a really scary version of it. So I was paying attention to the script, which is what I was paid to direct.”

Horror lesson: Q-tips aren’t worth the risk.

Ghost in the Machine (1993) — Microwave Murder

Film synopsis: When Karl (Ted Marcoux), aka “The Address Book Killer,” gets in a car accident and is brought to the hospital, his soul is transferring into a computer through the MRI machine. As an artificial intelligence, Karl continues his killing spree using various objects connected to the electrical grid and computer networks. He is… a ghost in various machines.

The scene: Using the address book of protagonist Terry (Karen Allen), Karl goes after Terry’s boss, Frank Mallory (Richard McKenzie), taking him out using his own microwave oven.

Talking to Talalay: The “microwave murder” sequence starts with our ghost, Karl, finding his victim, Frank, through a network of computers. As viewers, we are inside the computer hardware, in a series of visually ambitious shots that utilize Talalay’s background as a computer programmer.

“There’s a really beautiful, for the time, sequence where we’re inside the computer trying to bang against the computer and glitching the computer,” says Talalay, “which is really funny because he’s on the TWA website. Then we watch him travel through the wires, and we do this macro stuff through the wires. And then on the outside of the wires, and through the plug hole, and into the microwave.”

Once out of the microwave and into the kitchen, the shots get a bit more traditional but no less ambitious. Slowly, the microwave starts to take over the room, heating things from the inside out. Popcorn pops out of its box. Eggs explode from their shells. Bananas ooze out of their peels, and grapes turn into raisins. Eventually, Frank is affected too, his skin erupting into truly disgusting boils.

“All these things were optical effects, not digital effects and they were really, really hard,” says Talalay, noting how much faster this would be to do on a computer today. However, in the early 90s, it wasn’t an option. Instead, Talalay and her team had to get practical with the effects. They used Tesla coils to create electrical bolts between the hanging pans and recorded the grapes using stop-motion in the oven until they turned into raisins.

While the “Microwave Murder” may be one of the most memorable scenes from Ghost in the Machine, Talalay is also particularly proud of the “Crash Test Dummy” scene that comes later in the film. In it, we see Karl the Ghost go after Terry’s friend Elliot (Jack Laufer) using a car that is part of a test crash. Elliot manages to survive the crash, but is killed minutes later by a hand dryer that erupts into flames. It’s a scene that Talalay says she often used when she was teaching film because it “has the three classic beats and then surprise.” “That is scene that [is] really well-structured and carefully developed,” says Talalay, calling attention to the way the scene cycles through building tension and releasing it until the final moment of surprise.

“I really am very, very pleased with that scene,” reflects Talalay. “And that’s music as well, incredibly important building the tension, letting it down, music and sound.”

Horror lesson: Never trust a microwave.

Doctor Who, “World Enough and Time” (2017) — “Pain, Pain, Pain.”

Episode synopsis: In the penultimate episode of Season 10, The Doctor (Peter Capaldi), Bill (Pearl Mackie), Nardole (Matt Lucas), and Missy (Michelle Gomez) answer a distress call from a gigantic colony ship trying to escape the pull of a black hole. Almost immediately, Bill is shot by a terrified passenger, and is taken away by figures in hospital gowns claiming they can restore her. She is brought to the ship’s lower levels, where time moves much slower than the top levels. Because of this, Bill must wait many years for her friends to rescue her.

The scene: Bill awakens in a hospital to a voice saying the word “pain” over and over again. She follows the sound through the mostly abandoned hospital wing until she finds the source: a patient, their head covered in a tightly-fitted cloth that obscures their features, at the end of a row of other patients. A nurse comes to address the patient, and Bill watches from her hiding spot behind a nearby curtain; the nurse turns a knob on the patient’s IV pole and the “pain”s stop. Once the nurse leaves, Bill realizes that the nurse didn’t alleviate the patient’s pain, but rather muted the volume of their suffering. She realizes that every patient in the room is muted.

Talking to Talalay: “Steven Moffat is such a genius,” says Talalay, referring to the script written by then Doctor Who showrunner Moffat. “When you hear about people who had surgery and were awake during the surgery but couldn’t communicate, I think it plays into that fear. So the idea that you would be feeling, that the humanity is still in there but in capable of communicating [is terrifying].”

Unlike the previous, cinematic scenes discussed, this one is part of an ongoing TV show, which means we’ve spent hours with the central character featured. This, perhaps, makes the impending horror that much more affecting.

“You have Bill … knowing that this is going to happen to her,” says Talalay. “So you have the human you care about, seeing what’s going to happen to her, being fully aware of what’s going on and not being able to do anything. And there’s something so elemental about just hearing ‘pain, pain, pain.'”

As a director, Talalay worked to make the hospital ward particularly creepy, using rack focuses across the faces of the patients “as if everyone is faceless.” When creating something for Doctor Who, which is considered a family show and generally airs earlier in the evening in the U.K., Talalay notes that it is important to keep the horror acceptable for a broader audience.

“Initially, we did some stuff with plastic and [the patients] just looked like they were being asphyxiated,” says Talalay. “So there’s definitely a line on Doctor Who where you understand being really scary without being gross. It isn’t gross, but it’s disturbing. And Doctor Who really understands how disturbing it is to be missing any part of your face.”

Talalay and I discussed the pacing of the scene, which takes its time getting to the big reveal.

“The nice thing about doing a Doctor Who episode that Steven wrote is that you’ll be allowed a little bit more time,” says Talalay, adding that, because of this, she didn’t have to cut the tension to get to the next story beat in away that might be required on a different TV show. “Even when they’re outside in the hallway before [Bill goes into the ward], and the ‘in’ and ‘out’ [signs] and just hearing the ‘pain’ [allows] for that tension. And also, I worked really hard. One of intentions on Doctor Who was to try and make all my episodes beautiful and also different.”

Talalay credits one of the central conceits of the episode—that time is passing at a different pace for the Doctor than it is for Bill—as creating an added layer of tension, even when the plot point is not being specifically mentioned. “The slower and the longer you’re downstairs with Bill, the more you think, ‘Upstairs, oh my God, only a minute has passed.'”

Horror lesson: When on a ship experiencing time dilation, use the buddy system.

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, “An Exorcism in Greendale” (2018) — Uncle Jesse’s Astral Projections

Episode synopsis: Susie’s uncle is possessed by a demon called Apophis, a parasite that is devours its host from the inside and who preys on the fears and insecurities of those it torments. Because Sabrina’s friends Ros (Jaz Sinclair), Harvey (Ross Lynch), and Susie (Lachlan Watson) touched the possessed Jesse (Jason Beaudoin) when they bound him to a bed, they are being plagued by Apophis and are set to be his next hosts once the demon is done with Jesse. You know… just another week in Greendale.

The scene: Apophis uses his control over Jesse to astral project into Harvey, Ros, and Susie’s homes when they least expect it.

Talking to Talalay: Talalay chose this episode of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina to talk about because her daughter has called it “a whole nother level of scary.” While Talalay notes that she could have chosen the exorcism scene that comes later in the episode, she chose this scene not only because she had a lot of fun filming the moments of demonic surprise, but because of the “textures” she added to the relatively straight-forward horror reveals.

“In the bathroom, for instance … the fan is melting, and the fan is doing things that it shouldn’t be doing,” Talalay says. “And those kind of horror textures make for the whole atmosphere of making it much scarier. You set up the audience to know that they should be scared and they’re going to be scared.”

Elsewhere in the sequence, Talalay gets to use her filmmaking fluency to visually reference other classic horror. The way Harvey lounges on his bed in his crop top is a direct callback (written in the script) to Johnny Depp in Nightmare on Elm Street, the horror franchise where Talalay got her directorial start. In the same scene, Uncle Jesse’s head spins Exorcist-style—”it’s just really, really effective,” says Talalay of the effect. In the grand scheme of the episode, these are all relatively brief and inconsequential moments that Talalay manages to pack with an impressive degree of cinematic depth.

Horror lesson: Don’t move to Greendale.

A Babysitter’s Guide To Monster Hunting (2020) — Kelly’s Horror Origin Story

Film synopsis: When her babysitting charge is taken by the Boogeyman (Tom Felton) on Halloween night, teen math genius Kelly (Tamara Smart) discovers a secret society of babysitters whose job it is to protect their kids from the world of monsters.

The scene: In a flashback that begins the movie (and that we get more of later in the movie), we learn that Kelly too was targeted by the Boogeyman when she was just a little girl.

Talking to Talalay: “This was the most difficult and controversial scene we did from the standpoint of ‘How scary can you be?'” says Talalay, who put a lot of thought and had many conversations about where the horror line is when it comes to creating entertainment for kids during the course of making this movie.

“It’s going to be on Netflix, so if you scare kids too much or parents too much in the first minute, then you’re done,” adds Talalay. “On the other hand, we want to entice teenagers … So it was a constant discussion on set.” As a result, Talalay storyboarded the tale of “Kelly’s Origin Story” 17 times in order to get the tone just right. “And then when we were shooting it, there was a lot of discussion, ‘Is this too scary? Is this too scary?’ Which led me to say to the executives frequently, ‘You can’t judge how scary something is until you put the sound and music in.'”

Talalay said she used the example of “the magic of Tim Burton,” specifically The Nightmare Before Christmas, as a way to explain the power of music to shape the audience’s reaction to a scary set of images. While the first test screening for the opening to A Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting was deemed too scary for young kids, Talalay “lightened up the music” to alleviate some of the horror tension.

“It was hard for me not to be scary because it’s part of my vocabulary,” says Talalay. “And it was hard of me not to say, ‘But like Doctor Who‘s family, and it plays at 6:00 on Sunday nights and still, it’s terrifying.’ And Netflix saying, ‘No, we don’t want to be that scary.’ And my absolutely respecting their understanding their audience and their metrics. And then trying to keep the tension and still make it feel family.”

Horror lesson: Pay your babysitter well.

A Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting is now available to stream on Netflix.

The post Talalay’s Terrors! The Director Breaks Down Her 5 Scariest Scenes appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[firjii]

In which I tried to write my first kissy moment. xD

Regular text version is under the cut. I really thought I could wrap this up in 3 chapters, but this chapter is already 4,000+ words if I remember correctly. Not many surprises here because I already posted excerpts from it, but onward and upward, right? :)

Chapter: 3/?

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Ameridan/Telana (early relationship stage) [and I do mean early...it’s basically my headcanon story about how they met]

Characters: Solas, Female Lavellan, Ameridan, Telana

Additional Tags [please note: I condensed the tags because this chapter is different from others and isn’t nearly as dark as chapter 2, so some of my earlier tag warnings don’t apply to this portion]: angst, drama, grit, minor battle fatigue, gray ace solavellan, exasperated lavellan, concerned solas, minor language, vague references to violence, depression, suggested suicide, blood magic (suggested), blood mage, reluctant blood mage, canonically ambiguous elements, borderline non-canonical ideas, canonically disputable ideas about the Dalish (probably)

Summary: After a long and necessary sleep imposed on her by Solas' magic, Ellana wakes only to find herself wading in still more strife, a resolution no more obvious after rest than before it. Once again, Solas offers to help her find peace - or at least a measure of understanding - in the Fade. She finally accepts, only to find that Solas has a much different plan in mind than anything Ellana has seen thus far in dreams.

A tiny clink woke her, though her eyes didn’t immediately snap open. Instead, she frowned as waking slowly spread through her limbs. Dishes? No. It was something more muffled and solid: a mortar and pestle. Her frown deepened as a few vague questions found weak spots in her haze, but the expression disintegrated by the time she opened her eyes.

She was stretched on the couch, though it took her a long moment for the fact to register despite staring at her limbs. She tried to swing her legs over the side and lift herself up into a sitting position, but her arms were too slack and dull for such an ambitious act. She pushed herself up on her elbows and tried to rotate her neck, but a crick stopped her. She hissed through gritted teeth.

Solas scurried into her line of sight but said nothing. “Better,” he murmured approvingly with a nod after he spent a moment considering her.

She snorted and reached for her neck. “This is better?”

“You slept.”

She swore as she rubbed the stiffness out of her muscles but hesitated when she noticed the afternoon daylight. “I slept all day?”

His mouth shifted carefully. “A day.”

She blinked as she rushed to sit upright. “But how could –” A hunger spasm in her stomach confirmed his answer before she could finish her thought. “No one sleeps that long.”   

He smiled faintly.

She stood. “But I didn’t –” Her knees buckled, further evidence that she had been immobile for a prolonged period. Solas moved for her, but she waved him away with a jab of her slender arm and a tiny, frustrated grunt. She sat down huffily and braced her head until the vertigo ebbed. “It felt different.” She rubbed her forehead and temples.

“Your mind ceded to your body.”

She paused. As if her head weighed an unfathomably great amount, she craned it up to him. She stared. “You did something.”

“I did what anyone would do in the same situation.”

“Which was?”

“Only enough to let you forget your worries for a time.”

“By making me sleep for a day and a night?”

Solas resumed his methodical rummaging with several bowls on a table.

She frowned. “What are you doing?” Her neck was still too weak to twist around to look at him. She heard him stir several things into glass. He returned with a tumbler filled with a thick, whitish liquid and offered it to her. She sighed and reached for her forehead again. “I don’t need a potion.”

“This is a different sort of restorative.”

She took it from him and sniffed. Her face abruptly pinched into unnatural angles.

“Those who pass so many hours without food need a special kind of sustenance.”

She tasted it and shuddered, but she forced herself to swallow the entire portion. By the time she returned the tumbler to him, her face consisted purely of wrinkles opposing each other in a series of alien angles. “Goat’s milk,” she muttered. “And something else.”

“Herbs from the garden and a raw egg.”

Her face eased, but she threw a glare at him for an instant.

“Does your ankle still hurt?”

“Not much.” Still flushed from the strong flavors of her drink, she chuckled weakly. “That’s why you did it.”

“Have you always neglected yourself so much?”

Her faced paled. She stood. “I don’t need a lecture. I know what I need to do to finish what we started.” She paced her quarters, tender-footed but determined. “It’s taking too long.”

“An easy thing to say when dread shadows your every move.”

She snorted and paced faster. “And that’s easy to say when you aren’t clever enough to be frightened about something.” Her ankles toyed with folding over in the course of several steps. She swayed but continued walking.

In a silent, gliding move, Solas was at her side. “Sit down.” He braced one of her arms and made her stand still.

“It’s alright.”

“Your body clearly disagrees.”

She shot him an icy glare, but the look she found in his face dispelled it.

She shakily shuffled across the room with him. He settled her back onto the couch, though she locked her knees in place and refused to actually lay down again. She folded her arms in a hurry, initially with jutting, angular elbows –  like a petulant child – but the gesture soon changed into that of a weary night guard desperate for a moment of respite. She folded into herself for a moment, her feet planted on the floor like a mighty act of defiance. She sighed twice, a ragged edge behind both breaths. She leaned back on the couch.

Absentmindedly, so did he. She stared at the far side of the room. She leaned into him in the same instant that he reached to brace her. She wept. With the delicacy of a quillmaker, he leaned his head against the crown of hers as he held her barely-containable spasms, his arms completely encircling her now. The tension in her muscles released as her hands dropped limply to her lap. Dark, inarticulate noises rose from her and resonated against his chest like air through a flute. He closed his eyes. A single tear escaped down his cheek and nestled unnoticed in her hair.

* * *

An hour or more passed. Speechless but far from mute, she railed and wracked, as eager to flee herself as she was to seek aid. More than once, she flattened her palms against her temples, perhaps to counter the effects of such fierce outlet.

Solas held her as if a tangible storm threatened to break all around the two of them. As her grief intensified, her throat increasingly failed, yet the force of what lurked inside her drove her ever onward. When she finally paused from keening, it was only to clutch at her own throat. Solas finally released her to hurry for water. She coughed in the brief interval that followed. He pushed the tumbler into her hand. She downed the contents greedily. He filled it thrice more before her panic subsided and she could swallow or breathe with a semblance of normality.

Her mouth opened and closed like a suffocating fish several times. “I–”

“No,” he cut over her. “Not yet. Rest your voice.”

She did, though her eyes hummed with activity in place of her throat. After a few moments, Solas put two fingers on either side of her neck. She tried to remain still as he placed healing magic to quiet her furious lymph glands. She watched him closely this time as he worked.

“You need help, da’len.”

“I know,” she murmured, the shapes of the words barely recognizable.

“The Inquisition needs a focused leader. You cannot be one if the past is chasing you.”

“Like a wolf?”

He winced, though his inspection of her throat partially disguised it. He peered intently at her skin and frowned upon noticing a swollen vein that hadn’t yet receded into its proper place.

“I’ve seen you on missions.”

He swallowed calmly as he continued his work. “Have you?”

“Your magic. Vivienne thinks it’s because you learned outside the Circles. Dorian thinks it’s because you’re more ruthless than you look.”

“Neither is entirely incorrect.”

She waited a moment, her swallowing still strained. “I think you are a wolf.”

“Like the fearsome one of Dalish legends?”

She focused hard on him, unblinking.

He looked away for an instant. “That was unnecessary. I spoke without thinking.”

“It’s not true anyway.”

“The legend or the idea?”

“A legend is a legend. An idea’s an idea.”

“Did you ever say that among your clan? I doubt that they would have tolerated such an opinion.”

Her keenness withdrew as he stepped away to refill her tumbler. She sighed. “Silence is an opinion, too,” she half-croaked.

Still facing away from her, he lowered his head. “Yes.” He returned to her with the water. “I know it is.” He sat down in the same place again and watched her.

She drank somberly, reasonably, methodically. She stared down when she had drained it, fingering the etched glass mercilessly, memorizing the pattern as if her breath depended on it. “It’s not that simple.”

“The foolish might say that you either enjoy darkness or are frightened of change. The truth is actually kinder. Few have the tools necessary to improve this kind of situation themselves, so they struggle instead. Outsiders notice the struggle. How can they not? But they seldom act to improve it.”

She fussed with her forehead again, more aggressively than before. “Because they don’t care.”

“Because they have no concept of where to begin.”

Deep inside her mouth, she gnawed her cheek, her jaw clicking slightly in determination. “But you do.” Her tone was subdued enough that her question settled low on the air as a statement.

“You already know the Fade. We both survived a physical manifestation there. Nearly every night, we both–”

“I know. But –” She frowned and squinted, her free hand wavering near her head but eventually losing its trail of thought. “It’s different.”

“Hardly. To those in control, there is little to truly fear. To the strong, threats are simple enough to recognize and avoid. And I –” His voice failed unexpectedly, normal and clear one moment and crippled in the next.

She finally looked up at him.

He swallowed – with effort. “I –”

In spite of her grief-reddened face and bloodshot eyes, a smile crept over her face as slowly as a sunset. She slowly clunked the tumbler on an end table.

“I –” he tried again.

She had barely reached for his necklace when he wrapped his palms around either jawline and pulled her toward him. Her lips were still unusually red and chapped from weeping. Her mouth muscles were slack from overuse, too committed to the freshly-quelled sneers and spasms of fear and rage to move normally for the gesture. Her cheeks were still damp from inexplicable renegade tears.

But the moment was equal between them. A flicker of refuge ricocheted between them three and then four times, too intent on steadiness to trifle with any bold displays. Two more tears snuck down her face as they parted. Then two more journeyed down his. His mouth mutely opened and closed twice while his eyes fought to find his original thought. “I would never lead you into danger if there was a safer road.”

She lowered her head, just as she had done before. But this time, there was no hint of groveling. She closed her eyes. “I know.”

“Do you trust me?”

She nodded.

He brought a thumb up under the tip of her chin and nudged her head upward. He fixed a smile on his face, though it took her a moment to open her eyes and see it.

“Yes.” Her voice was barely above a mutter, but it was unfettered, unwavering, unbroken. Yet her brow also strained to fend off a frown.

He saw it and deliberated. “You suffer in other ways.”

She swallowed spasmodically. “It’s nothing.” She dug her knuckles into her temples in earnest and sighed. “We all bear something. We bear it or we die.” Her eyes crinkled shut. Several small sobs broke over her anew. Her forehead glistened with fresh, clammy sweat as it gyrated between bodily pain and more grief.

He pulled at her wrists.

She opened her eyes. “It’s always been. It always will be. The world’s troubles will always be greater than mine.”

He stared – not at her eyes, but her vallaslin. “They burden you.”

“No one speaks of it.”

“I am.”

“It’s nothing. I let them. There’s a difference. I’m weak. I –” Her face contorted as another wave of pain interrupted her. “I choose to be weak.”

He watched her. “How long have they pained you?”

“Why do you think they’re hurting me?”

“Anguish is always sharpest when the mind and the body disagree at the same time.”

“It’s just a headache.”

“You are still young, but your face bears the lines of one who has hurt every day.”

“And if I have?”

He lowered his gaze to the floor and pondered. “Something was wrong the day you were given them.”

“Or I was.” 

His head flew up. His eyes were unblinking. She wavered but returned the gaze, unable to turn away. He still held her hands.

“Can’t you tell? They’re new. Or newer than some, anyway.”

“But–”

“I couldn’t do it at the proper age,” she sneered. She sighed and mildly curled away from him, though she still lent him her hands. “That’s what I tried to tell you. The more I use my magic – any magic – the more I notice the rest of the world. I always felt pain more than others. Everyone said I cried more as an infant than the others. But it got worse after the magic came. A few raindrops might hurt if I’m tired enough. No one was surprised when the Keeper didn’t offer me a marking day. I didn’t ask for one. No one questioned it. They knew better.”

“An unusual situation,” he lilted meditatively.

“The only one in the last fifty years or better, so I heard. Even the blind get them. Even the lame get them. Even the dull-witted get them if they’re strong enough and know what they mean.” She snorted. “I can’t believe you didn’t see it. I always wear shoes. I could never have enough pairs of gloves. I’d whimper for days from a damned splinter, but I’d killed by the time some girls had had their first bleedings.”

“There are certain potions and tonics–”

“There’s not enough elfroot in the world to help this. Liquor helps even less.”

He swallowed. “Then perhaps a spell–”

“Nothing ever lasts for long. I’ve tried. Others have tried.” Her head sank. “It’s just how things are.”

“Those are cheap words–”

“Not when it’s the truth,” she bit through the air.

He still held her hands. She still allowed it. Not once had her fingers clenched, twitched, or dug into his palms. He waited and watched while she tried to calm her breathing. “Does it always linger?”

“The worse the pain, the slower it is to leave. That never changes.” She leaned back against the couch, as if her spine was too weak to support her stature. “I’m grateful that my parents let me choose. Plenty don’t. By the time they’re of age, most children already show an aptitude. It’s a natural fit to mark them as such. And why not? What’s the harm in reminding them of their strengths? What’s the harm in giving them a tether?”

His upper arms shuddered, but his forearms successfully remained still.

“I chose Dirthamen to honor the freedom my clan showed me. They didn’t know what was best for me any better than I did.” She shrugged and scoffed. “I don’t worship our gods any more than I worship Andraste. They’re only stories. All of it’s just a story. Most of it’s never offered a good answer for someone like me. Why should I believe in any of them? Why should I ignore one more than another? Why should I expect them to protect me when I can’t even be a good example of any of them?”

He finally released her hands, though she drew them away stiltedly. She rubbed her eyes. Each time she scowled when a nerve angrily protested in her forehead, he scowled in tandem. “How long has it been?”

“I took the marks just before I left for the Conclave.”

He frowned. His head dipped, but the movement was slow and controlled. “You suffered as long as that?”

“That’s not so long. Everyone suffers – elves most of all. Was it ever really otherwise?” She snorted and rubbed her neck as ripples of aches caused contortions in various parts of her face. “Arlathan. Why should I believe that, either? There’s more comfort in one Dalish lullaby than an entire tome about something we’ll never have again. And even if we could, how could we know if it would be anything like the stories?”

The lone finger that had formerly twitched on his hand hours earlier now clenched instead. “Then let me show you something else.”

“I can’t sleep now. I already lost a day. More.”

“What makes you think that you need to sleep to go into the Fade?”

She hesitated.

“What makes you think that you were still awake?”

Her head whirred back and forth.   

The vaguest impish shimmer passed through his eyes. “Are there normally trees outside your windows?”

She checked the windows again to see the lazy waving of branches’ silhouettes and mottled shadows. “What–”

“Come,” he smiled.

She stood, her face suddenly devoid of spasms and instead replaced by amazement.

They descended the stairs, but when Solas opened the door, it was nighttime. Skyhold was gone. A small glen surrounded them, midnight dew glittering in the moonlight. She scanned the area several times. She stepped gingerly in the deep grass and sparse, weedy flowers.

Solas stared on as she acclimated.

“What’s this?”

“Did you expect something else?”

It took her a long moment to face him or speak. “I thought–”

“There is no reason whatsoever to resurrect your own memories. You clearly remember them well enough.”

“So what’s this?”

“Come and see.”

They wandered a distance both short and far – the Fade had such an effect on time and measurement. She glanced about, often no differently than a vigilant scout. Though the area was deserted apart from an owl and a number of insects, the dark textures of night made her twitch. Sparse breezes made strangely deafening echoes as they disturbed the dense, shivering leaves of ash trees, the black knots of their trunks scarcely less formidable than a demon’s eyes in the steady but dim moonlight. More than once, she reached behind her back, the finely-honed reflexive move for her stave too ingrained to override, even here.

Solas observed her but was unfazed. His stride remained quiet, even confident. There was no reason for it to be otherwise. But he swallowed. “There are times when that which we see is not the truth. There are times when a shadow means safety, not a threat.”

She sighed and flicked her eyes about as they walked. “I don’t know where we are. What do you expect?”

His smile – that smile – resurfaced. “There are also times when a shadow is only a shadow.”

They reached a clearing much wider than the first. There were only two figures there. A heavily-cloaked man crouched low over a crude pot resting on a small campfire while a Dalish girl writhed on a small pile of skins a yard away. Her vallaslin were fresh. Her upper arms were bonier than a young halla’s fetlocks. She sweated. Her bronze skin – perhaps ordinarily a gleaming sight – had a hardened, tired look. She bore the many freckles of one who had wandered long and often in the wilds. Her hands and forearms showed glancing bruises and scrapes, as if she was clumsy – or a disrupted sleeper.

“Do you see them, vhenan?”

“Is that –” She swallowed hard as her throat failed. She stared. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes. You do.”

She stared awhile longer. “I didn’t know she had Dirthamen’s marks.”

“Few did. Few ever will.”

“Then that’s –”

Ameridan scooped the hot liquid from the pot into a small wooden cup. He inched along the ground by his kneecaps as he focused intently on not spilling the steaming contents. Telana suddenly howled. Her arms stiffened at her sides and her hands each squeezed a fistful of the makeshift blankets as her torso arced upward. Ameridan hastily rested the cup on a stone and rushed to hold her hands. The instant he did, her spine returned to the lambskins. She moaned as her head lolled. The motion gradually became gentler, even careful. Ameridan’s hands glowed as he uttered words in too quiet of a tone to easily note their meaning.

Telana stilled. Her breathing was strained, her pulse still visibly taxed. She suddenly coughed forcefully. She rolled onto a side, as if expelling water from her lungs. She gasped several times and reached for her throat, as if choking on an errant piece of food. He clapped her back.

The moment she stopped coughing, she writhed around. In a smooth whirl, she grabbed his wrist and held it fast, her fingers scarcely long enough to accomplish the task.

He laughed from deep in his abdomen.

She growled – not a grunt but a low, fierce hum.  

He went on laughing, but the noise was sufficiently musical that Telana’s snarled mouth soon smoothed. Two shadows grew between her eyebrows.

“Welcome back,” he finally chirped.

“Who are you?”

He smirked. “Someone who knows what desperation looks like well enough to ignore remarks like that.”

Telana hesitated and eventually wavered, yet her hand remained clamped around his wrist. “Do you look at everyone like this?”

He considered the question. His face furrowed unrelentingly. “Not when I’m allowed the use of all my limbs.”

She glowered.

He gestured to her hand with the barest bob of his chin. “Do you always draw blood as a greeting?”

She finally glanced down. Her fingernails had made five small but unmistakable punctures into his wrist. “Only when someone doesn’t understand what they’re looking at.”

“‘Who.’”

She cocked her head a fraction.

He shrugged with his face. “You’re not an animal or a chair, are you?”

The wind rustled her thick, sweat-caked locks – haphazardly astray in all directions – and his horsehair-like cluster of dark strands tied simply but methodically high on the back of his head. They stared each other down with the intensity of hunters stalking prey.

Telana let him go. She swallowed thickly and sighed. “Why did you help me?”

“Shouldn’t I have?”

“No.”

He reached for the little wooden cup and offered it to her. “You were prone by the side of the road. I might’ve been the only one to pass that way in a week or better.”

“Good.”

He leveled a keen, plain, unblinking gaze on her. She returned it. Once again, only the wind broke their concentration.

Telana looked down at the cup and sniffed it. Satisfied, she sipped it intermittently. Ameridan returned to the pot and stirred it several more moments. He took two bowls from a rucksack and scooped out the contents in earnest: soup. When Telana had finished with the broth – which took some time considering how often she paused to watch her rescuer – he pushed a bowl in her direction.

“What do you want?” she grunted, her throat still unused to both nourishment and speech.

“I want you to eat.”

She frowned at the bowl but relented. They both slurped and supped, content enough with the task of a meal and their apparent truce to stay mute for the duration. Telana finished hers too quickly for Ameridan’s liking, so he replenished it – twice.

“How long have you been traveling?” he finally nudged.

“A few weeks.”

“Alone?”

She closed her eyes and winced mildly. She placed the half-full bowl in her lap and wiped her mouth with a swipe of her forearm, but she hissed lightly when her mouth grazed a cut on the top of her wrist.

Without waiting for permission, Ameridan hurried to take her hand. He murmured more spell words. Telana’s annoyance was at odds with surprise at his competency and efficiency. She watched him work and did him the basic courtesy of sitting still until he had finished the healing. “You’re a mage,” she muttered.

“Why not?”

She shook her head, slightly dazed again. “I’m sorry. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen someone use magic without fear of being watched.”

“So you said.” He took a small wineskin from the rucksack, wrestled the cork open, and took a long but careful pull from it. “Why did you leave your clan?”

Telana snorted. “You know why. You saw.”

“I’ve never met a Dreamer.”

“Well, now you have.”

He held out the wineskin.

She gingerly sipped from it several times.

His eyes narrowed as his mouth fended off a grimace. “Is it always that bad?”

Her mouth busy with swallowing, she frowned and wagged her head. “Worse.”

“How long does it last?”

She took one more pull of wine – longer, and much less delicately now. She exhaled greedily as she handed the skin back to him. “As long as it lasts.” She ran her hands – still stiff and unsteady – through her dulled hair. She drew her knees up and hugged them tightly as she stared into the dying cooking fire. “You didn’t say what you wanted yet.”

“Why should I want anything? I have fine company on a fine night, with fine wards to guard against danger. What else is there to hope for?”

“Fallen for my charms, did you?”

“Not a bit of it. You’re talented.”

“How would you know?”

“You can see things before anyone else does. You can learn things before they exist in this world. You talk in –” He cut himself off. “Did you know that?”

She vaguely rubbed her throat. “I must do. I’m usually too raw to speak when it’s over.”

“You need help.”

She drew her hand away barely in time to avoid scratching herself with her suddenly-rigid fingers. “I don’t need a damned thing from you,” she sneered hurriedly.

“Can you feed yourself when it happens? Can you move? Can you keep from falling off a hillside if a fit comes on you suddenly?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know it well enough. After all,” he smirked, “I’m a mage.” He mimicked her earlier tone flawlessly. “And I could use someone like you on my side.”

“For what?”

“Nothing you haven’t already seen or done.”

“That’s not an answer.” Her voice verged on biting.

He nodded conciliatorily. “Alright.” He finished the wine and smacked his lips clean as he replaced the cork on the wineskin. “I’ll give you a different one.”

The pause that followed sat ill with Telana, her wary readiness outweighing her bodily exhaustion. But she kept her silence. She watched him, the frustrated light in her face a different shade now. She watched him simply to watch him.

Ameridan folded his hands quietly in his lap. He smiled, not in jest this time. “How would you like to save the world?”

[glenngaylord]

MY MOMENTS OUT OF TIME IN FILM 2017

Instead of a Top 10 List, every year I like to honor a long-discontinued but influential annual column from Film Comment magazine. I couldn’t wait for my father to come home from work with the “Moments Out Of Time” issue.  The writers would cite their favorite scenes, images, or lines of dialogue, even from films they may not have liked, because let’s face it, even bad films may have a great moment or two, unless you were a film called RINGS, CATFIGHT, THE SNOWMAN, or THE DINNER.  In that case, you suck in the most forgettable of ways. Despite some obvious stinkers, this was a great year for film. Some resonated with me, such as I, TONYA and THE FLORIA PROJECT as they tackled the issue of class in America.  Despite being period pieces, films such as DARKEST HOUR and THE POST pinged on topics such as war-mongering and the need for a free press, both of which we seem to talk about daily right now.  I have a few I need to catch up on, such as MUDBOUND and THE SQUARE, and one I recently saw, A GHOST STORY, wowed me, but I haven’t written a review of it yet.  

Even I can’t see them all, so here, in no particular order, are my Moments Out Of Time in film for 2017:

“America. They want someone to love, but they want someone to hate, and the haters always say, 'Tonya, tell the truth!' There’s no such thing as truth. I mean it’s bullshit! Everyone has their own truth.” - I, TONYA

A little girl (the great Brooklyn Prince) stands in front of a motel room door, telling her little friends they’re not allowed to enter.  She pauses, and then mischievously says, “But let’s go anyways!”  in a moment of pure rebellious, but dangerous joy. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

A young man (Lucas Hedges) begs his girlfriend (Saoirse Ronan) not to out him in one of the most touching moments of the year. - LADY BIRD

A woman (Cynthia Nixon’s blazing portrayal of Emily Dickinson) desperate to connect with someone, anyone, lights up whenever she’s around her soon-to-depart friend.  It’s a joy you wish she could have at all times.  It’s that ache to spar with another human that cuts to the core of this lonely tragedy. - A QUIET PASSION.  

Try watching the “I did not hit her” rooftop filmmaking sequence without bursting with glee.  One of the best-sustained comedy sequences of the year. - THE DISASTER ARTIST

A beautiful, long final shot of a young man (Timothée Chalamet) swimming in his tearful thoughts as the end credits role will break your heart. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

So will his father’s (Michael Stulbarg) 11th hour speech to him. - CALL ME BY YOUR NAME

A ghost in a white sheet with two eye holes, who has traveled across time for centuries, finally finds something important, which jogs his memory, making him feel less alone in the world, and then in a startling swish, is gone. - A GHOST STORY

Meryl Streep, in the most delicious long pause of 2017, struggles with the tough decision whether to publish the Pentagon Papers or not.  She conveys every pro and con with a series of reactions, leaving the audience breathless until she finally, and thrillingly, becomes a feminist heroine for the ages. - THE POST

Sure, it’s ostensibly Daniel Day-Lewis’ last film, but it’s the women, one with a deadening stare (Leslie Manville) and the other with the best eye flutter I’ve ever seen (Vicky Krieps), who take charge of this fascinatingly perverse story of control. - PHANTOM THREAD

A cleaning woman (Octavia Spencer) dusts a giant steampunk contraption as her mute co-worker looks on, sending the increasingly magical fable into a visually stunning dreamscape. - THE SHAPE OF WATER

“You know I can’t give you the keys, right babe?”  A chilling line in a scene in which a sympathetic, engaging character transforms into a monster, making Allison Williams, so often hated and too easily dismissed on GIRLS, as someone to REALLY watch as her career rises and rises.  - GET OUT

A beloved, iconic character from the original film makes a stunning, surprise appearance.  Despite it being CGI, this was the movie-movie moment of 2017. - BLADE RUNNER 2049

A bellicose, raging Prime Minister, known for his speeches, sits quietly with the square-ish frame filled with dark, negative space and seemingly lit by a single, too-bright light bulb.  He’s alone and yet belongs to us all, the push-pull of this theme resonating throughout the entire film. - DARKEST HOUR

“This didn't put an end to shit, you fucking retard; this is just the fucking start. Why don't you put that on your Good Morning Missouri fucking wake up broadcast, bitch?” - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

Bill Skarsgård’s reading of the line, “Take it!” will haunt me for years. His Pennywise proved to be surprisingly haunting and indelible. - IT

The film’s not great, but Christopher Plummer and Ridley Scott deserve all the “We’re Not Worthy’s” for pulling off the Great Kevin Spacey Replacement of 2017 in 9 days, and actually delivering a full-bodied, memorable character in the process. - ALL THE MONEY IN THE WORLD

A desperate thief uses his smarts to wheel his badly-injured brother out of the hospital in an impressive feat.  It shows a whip-smart mind in the body of  person with lost potential, and in a moment which proves this well-meaning guy just can’t get a break, it turns out he took the wrong person. - GOOD TIME

Michael Cera, even more villainous and sociopathic than he was in THIS IS THE END, and apparently channeling Tobey Maguire, freaked me out as a hateful, poker-playing celeb. - MOLLY’S GAME

Ok, people will be talking about the biplane scene forever, but nothing made me laugh more than Tiffany Haddish’s reading of this line:  “Girl, you can't get no infection in your booty hole! It's a booty hole!” - GIRLS TRIP

Bridget Everett, in a blazingly intense performance, sings the shit out of Lita Ford’s KISS ME DEADLY in a dive bar and transforms herself from comedienne to serious dramatic actor. - PATTI CAKE$

A crazed woman (Aubrey Plaza) barges in on the wedding of a social media friend and maces her for not getting on the invite list, giving the Facebook effect its full and insane due. - INGRID GOES WEST

A young woman, unable to take one more second of her overbearing, judgmental mother (Laurie Metcalf), surprisingly jumps out of a moving car. - LADY BIRD

Charlize Theron kicks one ass after another in a seemingly single shot (but not really), making this one of the greatest fight sequences ever filmed. - ATOMIC BLONDE

Algee Smith finds the heart of the story as a musician who struggles with his ambitions after a harrowing all-night encounter with racists cops. - DETROIT

Say what you will about the insanity that unspools, but Michelle Pfeiffer as the houseguest from hell was fun to watch and sorely missed when not onscreen. - MOTHER!

As Elton John’s ROCKET MAN plays on the radio, Bille Jean King (Emma Stone) and her new girlfriend Marilyn (Andrea Riseborough) drive in sun-dappled glory, their hair blowing around with each surprising gust of wind.  It’s a perfect evocation of the 70s. - BATTLE OF THE SEXES

After following around an imaginative, enterprising man (Michael Keaton as Ray Kroc) as he develops the most successful fast food chain in the world, and seeing his as a hero, he transforms into a terrible villain about halfway through, making us question the value of the American Dream. - THE FOUNDER

A suicidal Spud, his head covered in suffocating plastic, leans back in his chair and falls backwards off the top of a building, but a flash cut send him to the floor of his apartment where Renton (Ewan McGregor) slides under him to catch him.  One of the most imaginative, emotional cuts in a film I’ve seen this year. - T2 TRAINSPOTTING

Don’t heckle Kumail Nanjiani!  Holly Hunter WILL read you to filth by interjecting, “That is like saying that all frat boys wearing country club hats and Hawaiian shirts have shriveled up  tiny little dicks!” - THE BIG SICK

A young man throws himself down in the sand as bombs explode closer and closer to him. A spectacular feat of cinematography and muffled sound, and one of the greatest shots in cinema history. - DUNKIRK

A mother kicks the chair her little daughter sits in, sending her flying.  A sudden, impactful depiction of abuse. - I, TONYA

Tom Cruise emerges from a crashed plane, his face hilariously covered in cocaine. - AMERICAN MADE

A seemingly sweet young man (Barry Keoghan, my favorite new actor of the year) changes his entire demeanor and quickly, chillingly tells a doctor (Colin Farrell), in no uncertain terms, what is going to happen to him and his family. - THE KILLING OF A SACRED DEER

The best opening sequence award of the year easily goes to a film which mixed musical filmmaking with kinetic car chases and an endearing sense of rhythm. - BABY DRIVER

Eels creepily slither around a woman in a tub in an otherwise completely forgettable, indulgent film - A CURE FOR WELLNESS

Adam Sandler winningly loses his shit as he searches for a parking space. - THE MEYEROWITZ STORIES - NEW AND SELECTED

“See!  I took you on a safari!” exclaims Brooklyn Prince to her friend as they stand in front of a herd of cattle. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

An ape, bigger than ever portrayed before, emerges out of nowhere and swats down helicopters like flies as the camera gloriously swirls around him.  It’s APOCALYPSE NOW’s famous attack scene, but this time the invaded kick the invaders’ asses. - KONG: SKULL ISLAND

A messy trainwreck of a person (Anne Hathaway) lugs a mattress around town and literally confronts her inner demons. - COLOSSAL

A major character unexpectedly spits up blood on another, in a shocking moment (and there are a few in this film) I’ll remember for a long time. - THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI

French ACT-UP AIDS activists throw blood all over the offices of a pharmaceutical company, and heroically help change the speed at which drugs were approved for a population in desperate need of good news. - BPM

Despite being a thrilling adventure film, the quiet moments, such as the wonderful final shot of a woman walking out of a room and into the jungle, made this stirring yarn into something more internal and thoughtful. - THE LOST CITY OF Z

By this time, we’ve seen too many cars racing around, so instead we focus on the pleasure of seeing a dreadlocked Charlize Theron deliciously chewing the scenery from the evil lair of her jet, sending her into Faye Dunaway territory. - THE FATE OF THE FURIOUS

The unexpected death of a major star, as a gelatinous, alien creature slides down his throat, destroying him from the inside out in zero gravity, may feel straight out of the ALIEN textbook, but it’s memorable nonetheless. - LIFE

I’m usually not a sucker for Disney movie songs, but I have not been able to get EVERMORE out of my head ever since I saw the film, and I mean that in a really good way. - BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Same goes for Elvis Costello’s fantastic contribution with YOU SHOULDN’T LOOK AT ME THAT WAY, from a beautiful but not-great movie. - FILM STARS DON’T DIE IN LIVERPOOL

Instead of the chestburster, we get the backbreaker, and instead of John Hurt, we get a character we don’t care about…but it STILL manages to be freaky and cool in an otherwise execrable film. - ALIEN: COVENANT

Can we please distribute LICK MY ASS, DIANE t-shirts to every person on earth, or at least make it THE trending hashtag of the year?!! - I, TONYA

Gal Godot donning the titular, classic costume for the first time in the film, charges through the emotional No Man’s Land sequence and into our hearts. - WONDER WOMAN

A seemingly liberal father over-explains his love for Obama to his daughter’s new black boyfriend (Daniel Kaluuya), who makes the Dad feel ok about his issues with race.  It keenly pinpoints the struggle people of color have trying to make white people more comfortable about their discomfort. - GET OUT

Willem Dafoe’s Manager expertly takes charge of a potential child molester, demonstrating his heartwarming, soulful protection of the lovable but annoying little brats who live in his motel. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

The camera whooshes from ground level to an overhead shot as a determined skater prepares for an important routine. - I, TONYA

Yes, the movie is an unholy mess, but Hong Chau’s “I go to Norway” speech is just a little masterpiece. - DOWNSIZING

Feet moving on red splotches of sand as they battle with their light sabers. - STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI

A return to the iPhone footage he used in TANGERINE pays off perfectly in the final sequence, a rush of imagination, and a surprising and unforgettable place to take your little survivor of a main character, even if it’s potentially just a fantasy.  It doesn’t change the fact that a neglected but loved little girl wants a little escape. - THE FLORIDA PROJECT

[stringendos]

i. as a thank you

{boku no hero academia} → tamaki!centric; mirio/tamaki | wc: 1793

the way you said ‘i love you’ | prompt #7

a series of ‘i love you’s throughout the years future fic: graduating third years

With spring looming into view, rushing headfirst towards him, Tamaki finds himself standing in a world that stretches too wide.

From the point where he is settled, he looks beyond the crowd and tries to search for a future that feels certain. When he fails, he breaks away, casting his gaze back down to his feet, and swallows the lump that threatens to form in his throat.

In his hand, the graduation scroll sits heavy, the only thing that seems to be weighing him down to this earth, this very moment in time, carving his heels deeper into this rocky ground beneath him. Everything he once knew and grew so comfortable with is being pushed further away with every slap he gets on the back from his classmates, every teacher that congratulates him, every misty eyed kouhai who greets him.

It feels like he’s trying to hold onto time, like he’s stuck between two freeze frames, and his grip is becoming more slack as the seconds tick by, as if a phantom timekeeper keeps wrenching it from his grasp. Like oceans are stretching out wide before him, sweeping up all the boats in one quick motion, to a land far away from the home soil that Tamaki has sunk his feet into.

There is that horrible feeling that begins to crawl up his torso, squeezing his ribcage until each breath rattles his very bones, his lungs wheezing, straining under the weight; that tightens each individual finger around his neck, the crook of each knuckle nestled against the bob of his adam’s apple.

But when it all becomes too much, when the world seems to crowd him, starts collapsing into one tiny spot, a singularity in the vast galaxy that spans Amajiki Tamaki’s entire universe, his heart slows, swells, as a body settles into the space beside him. Their shoulders brush for a snapshot of a second.

He feels his bones start to fall into place and the unease starts to bleed out of his shoulders, slowly, slowly, like the falling of sakura around him. Mirio, once again, manages to anchor him to this very spot and is a light through this darkness, guiding ships home.

Beyond the stretch of concrete, he can see Nejire, a walking heartbreaker, accepting flowers with a bright smile paired with that tilt of her head, and there’s a warmth that spreads through his chest like no other.

“Hadou is having fun,” Mirio laughs out, mirth dancing in his eyes, as a second greeting; his first in the momentary press of shoulders that speaks volumes in its silence. In return, Tamaki lets out one of his own, a barely there chuckle, with a glance to his left and lets the backs of their hands brush in just a slight skim of their knuckles.

Mirio sounds normal as he continues, chattering on about his day as if they had spent months apart and not a few hours where they were saying goodbyes to friends. After today, the time will grow longer to years, the distance stretched further to 458 kilometers, no matter how much Tamaki tries to deny it. (The reality still stands that he would rather not be anywhere but here, by Mirio’s side, but he pushes that thought down even further.)

Mirio sounds almost normal perhaps to everyone else, as he smiles brighter, and accepts gifts and flowers (‘flowers,’ Tamaki’s head supplies unhelpfully, ‘probably paired with confessions and second buttons’). But Tamaki has never been just anyone, not when it comes to Mirio anyway. Tamaki can hear it underneath it all. He knows better, has spent years having his body attune to the other’s. There is happiness in there, definitely; nothing but fondness for his friends and a pure relief that is twisted in amongst it all; relief that they’ve all made it through, a little battered, a little bruised, but there together at least.

But there’s that uncertainty, misplaced almost, now that Mirio is next to becoming the Number One Hero and is still running on the path forged for him that can lead to nothing but greatness.

It’s almost reassuring that Mirio, Toogata Mirio, the best of them all, who manages to gain the trust of almost anyone; who managed to break down Tamaki’s walls with one blinding smile, arm slung across his shoulders; reassurance more overwhelming than any other feeling; who kept a hand outstretched, waiting, kind but never forceful, with a disarming grin and a “so you like heroes?”

It’s almost reassuring that Mirio feels like him sometimes, how Tamaki feels so small, so tiny, in this vast world, when Mirio burns so bright.

Mirio, who could have retracted that hand as quickly as he outstretched it; Mirio who tells him to keep his head up.

Sometimes, he wonders what a life without Mirio would be like.

In his memory, a moving van comes into view.

Tamaki doesn’t remember it completely; can just about make out the stacks of boxes, that characteristic sandy shade with the lid dipped from when his older brother sat on it. But he remembers small random snippets, like a view obscured with a hand: two L shapes cutting out the storyboards and pulling the insignificant points into view. Like a sun too bright to look at, hand obscuring the view to the trees around it or the sea below it; a bicycle propped up outside a convenience store.

Like a movie with all the main characters cropped out, the camera panning out, only to focus on the drifting clouds, the flutter of the laundry lined up in the garden. Their muted voices pushed underwater and instead an amplified audio clip of the noise that lies beneath it all; the crunch of asphalt underneath tires, the rustle of paper with directions; the background pulled into focus.

He remembers the first walk to school, clutching onto the end of his mother’s skirt as she spoke to his first homeroom teacher in Musutafu, that swooping feeling in his stomach as he stood in front of a class of less than thirty, the way his words died on his tongue and shrivelled into nothing. He remembers his brother decked out in a new gakuran, a little tap on his forehead, flick of his nose, a promise that he’ll make friends here. (Tamaki will never forget that disappointment that seemed to loom, that fear that reared its ugly head when he worried about letting his brother down.)

And he remembers, with an ache in his chest, nostalgia bursting at the seams, Mirio, as the first light in this stretch of darkness.

It is Mirio who has stayed with him despite it all. He owes Mirio this.

And so much more.

So Tamaki forces his head up, looks up, beyond; instead of down at his feet and the ground that threatens to crumble beneath his soles.

‘Head up,’ he thinks.

He will say it now. He must. So he tilts his head up a little higher, tries to be a little braver. There is so much he wants to say to Mirio but it doesn’t sound right no matter how he words it in his mind.

Beside him, Mirio, ever patient, waits.

Breathes in, holds it, one, two, three and-

“Mirio,” Tamaki starts off, but falters when he sees the boy turn towards him. Threading his fingers into his pockets, he picks at the nonexistent lint lining them but keeps his chin up. Keeps looking, far, far beyond where his eyes can see. He follows with, “for these three years,” and tries to ignore the look that flickers across Mirio’s face. It’s a look that he doesn’t quite understand despite the years between them. The pause makes him stop, halting abruptly, so once again he thinks-

‘Head up.’

Swallows, shakes away the nervousness that thrums through his body.

And tries again,

“For these last three years.” A pause. Head up. “And those before that.”

For being there when no one else was. For reaching through the darkness, filling in the silences when I needed you to; and for being silent when I didn’t.

There are so many things that Tamaki wants to say; a whole lifetime’s worth of words pulled back, trapped in a cage, with the lock still closed shut, and the key tucked safely in a box that he pretends to have misplaced. Words that stretch past entire galaxies and spiral into distances approaching infinity.

But really, through all of that, there is one thing (just the one, always just that one) that he wishes he could voice.

That one thing that falls out so easily when he presses a water bottle to Mirio’s forehead, reassures him with a heavy palm to his back, resting in the space between his shoulderblades, the dip from where his wings would stretch wide. It slips out effortlessly before Tamaki can even think of reeling it back in, snatch up these words that spread so clumsily, when he pulls a blanket over Mirio’s shoulders, steps into place beside him on the walk home after school; filling in with easy laughter, like the quiet soundtrack that Tamaki has grown so used to.

It is said in his ‘good morning’s, his ‘go to sleep’s; his ‘I’m here’s and ‘you can do it’; in a presence that gives him enough space to breathe but one that never wanders too far.

How could he possibly put this into words?

So instead, Tamaki steels himself and hopes that Mirio can hear what he really means. Can hear what he has been trying to say for so long, what he’s trying to cram into words, what he couldn’t even begin to form in sentences; not when he wants to say so much.

(Head up, head up, head up.)

“For everything.”

One by one, the petals fall, like a flurry of snowflakes in slow motion over a scene ripped out of an old movie reel (one that never does make it into cinema: its only screening in a makeshift theatre from drawn curtains and a stuffy room, in amongst stacks of papers marked with the name of the director.

An unremarkable scene from an equally unremarkable story.)

But for Tamaki, who is standing, a little bit bolder than he used to, more confident than what he thinks he deserves; as Suneater (and more importantly, Toogata Mirio’s best friend), it’s one of the most memorable.

(He wishes, he wishes, that Mirio can hear it; can figure out what he’s trying to say.

After all, Mirio’s never failed him before.)

Around them, the world falls silent, muffled into a thin hum that hangs in the air. Tamaki lifts his head up, tilts it to his left, and smiles back when Mirio grins at him.

“Thank you.”