#Wise beyond their years? Check

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ profile

IN WHICH your married life with Natasha Romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. With your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (And ultimately, very horny.)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

Y/N L/N (the beefcake)

YOU are known as 'mama' to the kids, and 'daddy' to natasha. would literally lay your life down for your kids and wife. raging butch, gym rat, handiman around the house, occasionally helping with cooking and cleaning as well. you're also the CEO of L/N-Corp worldwide media, with a degree in being husband material. you like it when natasha calls you handsome, a service top to the end of time. but at the end of the day, you're just ken, hopelessly in love with your wife and worshipping the very ground she walks on.

NATASHA ROMANOFF (the milf)

NATASHA is known as 'mommy' to the kids and you. epitome of housewife milf, with her clean fashion and reading glasses and soft tummy you never fail to squish. she's the stricter parent, with a firm but patient parenting style. as much as she can resist the kids' puppy dog eyes, she always falls for yours. down bad for your beefiness. peak wife material - she's teaching the kids the piano, the food she cooks is literally orgasmic. your darling angel pillow princess. she's the barbie to your ken, the black cat to your golden retriever, the only one for you till the end of time.

MARINA (the peacemaker)

MARINA is your oldest daughter, ten years of age but wise beyond her years. her name is of russian descent, meaning "of the sea". marina is a quiet kid, more calm and laid-back like natasha. you think your daughter is a secret genius, as she's topped her class since first grade, and has an amazing affinity for languages and the arts. the first time you read one of her poems, you started crying. (it was titled 'the sun' and was about how much she adored you, for the record.) marina is such a responsible big sister, though she sometimes struggles with the lack of attention she gets because of her younger siblings.

EMILIA AND EMILIO (the troublemakers)

EMILIA is the older twin, five years-old and ready to rock the world. her name is also of russian origin and means 'eager'. she's more tomboyish than her older sister, disliking dresses and being weirdly obsessed with checkered bermudas. she's a little unorganised, but emilio keeps her in check. they balance each other out, after all. emilia is completely selfless and entirely loveable, just this shining bundle of joy in your life. she loves football too! you play it with her and emilio on the weekends.

EMILIO is the younger twin by fourteen minutes (which his older sister never fails to tease him about). they share the same name meaning, which is rather fitting. this five year-old is loud, unapologetic, and aspires to be a dinosaur. he really likes pterodactyls, okay? he's a mommy's boy, always curled up in natasha's arms when he's not busy exploring the world. his fated enemy is mathematics, so you have to fight world wars in order to get him to do his addition and subtraction. just a cheeky little guy who thinks the world of his sisters and moms.

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

first time making actual ocs with names and stuff! what are your thoughts on this lively family....

© 𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍 2024 ━ do not copy, edit or translate my works

[luckshmi]

Retrograde Planets in your Birth Chart

In Vedic astrology, retrograde planets in a natal chart carry deep significance and unique implications. A planet is deemed retrograde when it appears to move backward in the sky from Earth's perspective. This apparent reversal can alter the planet's energy, leading it to express itself differently than it would when moving direct. Retrograde planets often highlight areas in our lives where we have unresolved issues from past lives or where we need to focus more intently in this life. Understanding the benefits and challenges of retrograde planets can offer profound insights into your life's journey.

Mercury

Having Mercury retrograde in your birth chart means you process information and communicate in a unique way. You possess deep insights, particularly when it comes to introspection and understanding complex ideas. This can lead to innovative solutions and profound personal insights. However, communication can sometimes be tricky. You might find that others misunderstand you or that you have to work harder to express your thoughts clearly. Issues with technology or travel plans may also arise more frequently. To manage this, practice mindfulness and patience in your communication. Double-check important messages and take your time to articulate your thoughts. You can also calm your mind with Brahmi oil massages, an Ayurvedic practice that enhances clarity and cognitive function.

Venus

With Venus retrograde in your birth chart, you have a deep understanding of what you truly value in relationships and personal finances. This can lead to a stronger sense of self-worth and more meaningful connections. Your approach to beauty and aesthetics is unique and deeply personal. However, you might experience challenges in love and financial stability, feeling strain in relationships or difficulties with self-esteem. Focusing on self-love and healing past relationship wounds can be beneficial. Use Ayurvedic rose oil for self-massage to open your heart chakra and promote self-love, helping you attract healthier relationships and financial stability.

Mars

Mars retrograde in your natal chart endows you with inner strength and resilience. You can be strategic and thoughtful about how you use your energy and pursue your goals, making you a powerful force when you decide to act. However, there might be a sense of frustration or impatience, as it can feel like your efforts are often delayed or blocked. Channeling your energy into long-term projects and practicing patience can help. Regular physical activity, like yoga or Ayurveda-recommended exercises, can manage frustration and keep your energy balanced. Incorporating Ashwagandha supplements into your routine can also reduce stress and boost vitality.

Jupiter

Having Jupiter retrograde in your birth chart gives you a profound capacity for inner growth and spiritual wisdom. You’re likely to develop a strong set of beliefs and philosophies that guide you throughout life, making you wise beyond your years. However, external growth might feel slow, and opportunities for expansion could be limited, requiring you to work harder for your achievements. Focus on your inner journey and trust that external success will follow. Including turmeric in your diet promotes overall health and well-being, supporting both physical and spiritual growth.

Saturn

Saturn retrograde in your natal chart means you have a deep understanding of responsibility and discipline. This can help you build strong foundations in your life and deal with karma and past life issues effectively. However, you might feel increased pressure to revisit old fears and insecurities, and responsibilities could feel more burdensome. Embrace the opportunity to strengthen your foundations. Practice grounding techniques, like walking barefoot on grass, and use Ayurvedic grounding oils like sandalwood to help you stay balanced and focused.

Retrograde planets in your natal chart bring both challenges and unique strengths. Embrace the lessons they offer, and use these insights to grow and transform. By incorporating Ayurvedic practices, you can balance these energies and navigate their influences with greater ease. Remember, each retrograde planet offers an opportunity for profound personal growth and a deeper understanding of your life’s journey.

[copperbadge]

Hi Sam! I wanted to ask if you feel lately like you've been getting anything positive out of your therapy, because a lot of your initial thoughts about it kind of mirror mine. I'm very logical (except when I'm upset at myself) and very skeptical, so I feel like a therapist either isn't going to tell me anything new, or that I'm going to just disregard it because I can't trick myself into believing things that I just plain don't believe.

But I'm also starting to come to a realization, two years after my ADHD diagnosis and letting go (without therapy!) of most of the executive dysfunction-fueled self worth issues I was having, that I'm kind of Not Okay in other ways. I'm safe —going to work every day and doing my job so I won't lose my livelihood and have never had a self harm urge in my life— But I'm not really okay. I'm having major self esteem issues related to my personality separate from the executive dysfunction that are putting me in a bad place. I don't want to take antidepressants for reasons I won't go into but that means my other option is therapy and... I don't know if I'm a person that therapy will actually work on. I found a lot of validation in some of your perspectives, about affirmations being bullshit and "mindfulness" exercises feeling impossible and useless, about not having an inner monologue and how that might be causing issues with traditional methods. So I was just wondering, do you feel like therapy is working now that you've been in it longer?

I've wasted a lot of money on "elective" (and ultimately useless, back to square one) medical nonsense this year and I'm not eager to waste more, but I've also met my insurance deductible so it's the best time to try it if I'm going to.

I mean, it depends on the modality a little but I don't think trying basic talk therapy can hurt, as long as you find a decent therapist. And it's better to try it now when you're feeling Mostly Okay than waiting until you are Really Not Okay. But this entire paragraph comes with a lot of context so....

A lot of what I talked about in terms of struggling with mindfulness, etc. was less related to the therapy I am still in than it was to the DBT class I took at Therapist's suggestion. We were both aware that she was basically throwing stuff at the wall to see what stuck, and while it was an interesting class I don't think for me it was helpful. As you mention, I struggled with affirmations and visualization since neurologically I'm not really set up for those; I don't think they're objectively bullshit but I do think there's an assumption within the mental health industry that they will have function for everyone and that's simply untrue, and the expectation that it will is very damaging. I also struggled with the physical-intervention aspects (called TIPP usually) which didn't work at all for me and felt frankly like doctor-approved self harm. DBT can get very culty, which set off a ton of red flags for me -- possibly false flags, but they still waved real big.

And that's because I also have a lot of trust issues surrounding therapy. To the point where, the minute one of the people running the DBT class made actually quite gentle fun of me for asking a question he couldn't answer, I checked out on anything he said. We were learning about a DBT concept called Wise Mind and I asked, "If wise mind is an identifiable mental state, how do we know if we're in it?" and when he couldn't quite answer beyond "It's different for everyone" I said, "But if we know it's real there must be some kind of common denominator, a measurable data point," and he said "Well, Sam, you're not going to levitate" and the rest of the class laughed. Sorry bud, this is almost certainly an over-reaction, but I'm me and you lost me when you came at me instead of just admitting you didn't know. (Also it turns out I just live in Wise Mind like 80% of the time which is one reason I couldn't tell.)

But basic talk therapy outside of DBT is just...you talk at someone about your problems and come up with ways to try and solve them, which is a lot more straightforward and way less frustrating. You have to be an active participant, you have to both have a goal and be willing to discuss reaching it, but that goal can be as simple as just "figure out what my mental health goals should be" at first. You don't have to learn like, vocabulary for it.

The thing is, while I have seen some improvement in regulation issues, I also struggle with basic talk therapy. Most people, and this blew my mind, see measurable improvement in nine to eighteen therapy sessions. A lot of people don't go long-term, they just are having a moment and get help getting through the moment and then can disengage, with their therapist's approval.

I was in therapy consistently from the age of nine to eighteen and only stopped because I reached legal majority and physically refused to go.

Not one minute of those nine years did I want to be there. And, because none of the three therapists I saw across those years actually explained to me why I was there or how therapy worked, for me it felt like "Your punishment for having feelings is to speedrun every feeling you had this week in an hour, to a stranger." There was also what my current therapist believes to be some extremely unethical behavior going on, which didn't help.

So it has taken actually a lot of time to get to a place where I would even allow her to understand what help I need. I've been in therapy for about a year (generally weekly but there have been some gaps) and it has only recently gotten deeper than very basic interpersonal problem-solving.

Like, two weeks ago I told her, "I had a thought this week that I couldn't tell you about something I was doing because then you'd have material on me" (meaning blackmail material) "and that's a fucked-up thing to think." And once I'd actually identified it as fucked up I had zero issue telling her about it, wasn't even nervous as I did so. Who's she going to tell? She's literally legally constrained from telling.

I think well over half of what she does is either validate that whatever emotion I'm having is normal, affirm my reactions so I don't keep believing I behaved weirdly, or praise something I've done that was a positive act. Does this work? Not always, because I'm unfortunately very aware that it's part of her job to do those things. But yeah, sometimes. Even if you don't fully believe it, "Hey that was a really smart move" is nice to hear. Sometimes she helps me come up with a plan for stressful future events or (rarely) behavior modification, and sometimes she either provides me with research or points me towards research I can do on my own. We don't do meditation or affirmations or stuff like that.

Like, last week I brought up the fact that I hadn't really ever thought about how if I have a disability that causes emotional dysregulation and I got it from my parents, they also likely had undiagnosed emotional dysregulation when raising me. So she said I should look into research on children with emotionally dysregulated parents. I was pretty annoyed by what I found (the ONE TIME adults are the focus instead of the kids is the ONE TIME I needed to learn about the kids, really?) but it led to something that was both informative and upsetting, so we discussed that. And when I was stumped about how to move forward with the information, she suggested that my general coping mechanism of writing about it was probably a good plan.

(At which point I just silently advanced my powerpoint presentation to the next slide, where I had a series of quotes from the Shivadh novels where Michaelis, acting as a parent, repeatedly does the exact opposite of the upsetting thing, because I realized even before the meeting that it's an ongoing theme in my work whenever I deal with people being parents. It's a good thing she has a sense of humor and also that I do.)

So yeah. Going into therapy you have to be ready to reject a therapist if you don't like them or if they get weird and pushy, you have to be ready to be a self-advocate, but you are the client; it shouldn't be super difficult to find someone who can at least walk you through what you want from it and agree not to do the stuff you don't want, and if you want to stop going you just...stop going.

Good luck, in any case! I hope you get what you need, whether or not that ends up being therapy.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#1: For The Future (S9E03) 🏆🥳🎉

This is the one. 🥹 The number 1. 🏆 My favorite Richonne scene. 😍 And it's quite fitting on TOWL eve to discuss Rick and Michonne's final irl dialogue from TWD. How lovely that Richonne's 'last' day together was this beautiful. 😭

Richonne's relationship illustrates what I've always felt true love should be like. What the characters of Rick and Michonne have is a radiant, vivid, and undeniable soulmate love. It's earned and organic, it's devoted and deep-rooted, it's heartfelt, it's fiery, it's passionately palpable, it's everything. And genuinely, this impeccable scene has it all.

So I adore this moment to infinity and beyond, especially because in this scene, we truly get to see Rick and Michonne revel in Richonne...

What's clear from my Top 5 is I tend to really appreciate scenes where Rick and Michonne talk about Rick and Michonne, and this scene is one of the best examples of that.

Throughout all these posts I’ve expressed the sides of Rick and Michonne's relationship that I adore - when they're doting on each other, desiring each other, leading together, parenting together, relaxed and domestic, fighting the fight, being playful and flirty, being reassuring, being hopeful, happy, honest, human, wise, vulnerable, encouraging, and enchanted by the other. And pretty much all of this was captured in this scene right here.

So while I have no notes for this scene, my extra self still has a lot to gush over and praise. I mean naturally, cuz this is my goated Richonne moment. 🙌🏾😌

I just marvel at how special this ship is for only continuing to top themselves with golden scenes to the point that Richonne's last moving dialogue irl is my all-time favorite moment between them.

And if Richonne just had to be taken from me for 6 years, then this was an excellent scene to hold onto as I patiently waited for their return. (which is tomorrow, can you believe it!? 🤗) And it's also an excellent moment for Rick and Michonne to hold onto as their paths part for years and they fight with everything in them to get back to each other. 👌🏽

The chemistry and connection between Rick and Michonne have always been so profound to me, and they’ve been operating like one for a long long time. And in this scene, you just see every single reason why they are meant for each other and how they're ready to take their oneness to new levels. 🙌🏽🎉

Also in this episode, it feels like this is the one time when Rick, Michonne, Judith, Carl, and RJ are all in some way involved as we officially know Michonne will be pregnant after this. 😭

Ok, so first we gotta talk about the great Grimes Family 2.0 sequence just before because it's attached to this #1 moment for me. The episode starts with Rick waking up in his bed with Michonne asleep, and I love any time we get to see their everyday life side.

I adore the way Rick immediately places his attention on Michonne when she sleepily tosses to the other side. And then seeing that she may be feeling a bit restless, he gently gives her a calming kiss on the shoulder. Such a sweet silent act of love for his wife. 🥰

And I love seeing that Rick wakes up with this instant affection for her, just as Michonne does in the next ep when she wakes up and adoringly kisses him while he sleeps. 🥹

Also, this moment makes me a bit sad cuz it’s the last time Rick and Michonne will wake up together like this for years. 😢 But thank goodness they will hopefully soon have mornings together like this again. 🙌🏾

And then, after showing love to his wife, Rick hears Judith cough and goes to gently check on her as she also is sleeping in a similar position as Michonne. Seeing Rick in this house with his wife and daughter, you just know these are the two he’d do absolutely anything for. Including fighting every day for years to get back to them. 🥲

And then they gotta get my waterworks going when Rick walks down the steps and touches Carl’s handprint. Oh how I wish Carl was asleep in another room for Rick to check on. 😭 But the fact that even tho Carl is gone, Rick still finds meaningful ways to feel connected to him is beautiful and makes it feel like he really managed to have a genuine heartfelt moment with his wife, daughter, and son this morning. The truest family man. 🥰

Then Rick takes a walk in the lush community and it’s just nice seeing him get to really take in how much life is growing around them with all the plants and food sprouting up. This is so reflective of what he and Michonne have impressively built together, and Rick deserves this satisfying peaceful moment so much.

If Richonne had managed to carve out even a semi-decent life a year and a half after the pain of losing their son and fighting a war it would have been commendable. But for them to have healed to the point where they were living a genuinely happy robust life together, speaks to the revitalizing power of their love.

Everything is fruitful and growing in their community, and I love that just like that ripe red tomato Rick finds, Rick is also ready to be fruitful and multiply. Amen. 🥳

And as if the sequence wasn’t already precious enough, Rick places the red tomato at Carl’s gravesite, and he has this quiet moment with his son which just hits my heart. It's like Rick's letting Carl know he's making his dream real just like he promised. 😭

I love that Rick is so devoted to keeping Carl’s memory and wishes alive, including Carl’s desire for Rick to build a bountiful future - specifically one where “Michonne is happy.”

I’ve always found Rick’s teary smile at Carl’s grave interesting because it makes me curious what they're implying he’s thinking. I personally feel like part of it is Rick thinking about the fact that he’s ready to grow their family and knowing Carl would want that for them too. 

So now onto my all-time favorite Richonne scene. 🙌🏽🥳

I truly love that they give Rick and Michonne this at-home, comfortable, living their everyday life moment in bed for their final irl conversation. 😍😭

Where my #2 scene from the season 5 finale was one I really appreciated for depicting Richonne's strength amid tough times, my #1 scene here is one I appreciate so much for depicting Richonne's strength during a time of overall calm. This moment wonderfully and angelically shows how Rick and Michonne's love soars when they finally get to live the peaceful life they fought so hard for.

So I of course love all the scenes where Richonne shower each other in love during high-stakes moments of adversity. But this rewarding scene is so special to me for being a moment of Richonne getting to shower each other in love during a rare time of normalcy after everything they’ve been through. 

So Michonne is up in bed and working on the charter like the Get Things Done Grimes she is. And Rick returns to their room and the moment is just so calm and casual as they ask each other how they slept, and Michonne admits her mind won’t shut off. As we know from their canon ep, they’re very good at helping the other just turn their mind off for a bit and so Rick is def about to help her with that. 😋

I love seeing Rick take his boots off and get right back into bed cuz I know that man already had his mind made up to take today off and just be with his girls. I think about how refreshed Rick was in s9 even though so many of his OG friends were all spread out. And a big reason why he can still seem so content is because as long as he has Michonne and his daughter every day then he has everything.

Then Rick is so encouraging when he tells Michonne she’ll have the charter figured out by supper. Like the charter is a big deal to figure out, but he knows his goddess of a wife can handle it, and I love that he always has so much belief in her. 

When Michonne smiles and says, "yeah, no," Rick is rightfully in full Michonne-stan mode as he tells her it’s good she's leading this place. I love how Rick knows and is grateful that Michonne is so capable of not just helping him lead but being a leader in her own right.

And I like that Michonne says, "with you" because it just shows how much she truly values their partnership and still only wants to lead if it’s with him. The “Me and you” way. 😊

It’s really sweet the way Rick says, "Nah, I’ve been at the bridge, here it’s you." He’s going to make sure Michonne gets credit where credit is due. And again, his reverence for her has always been so lovely to watch throughout this scene and this series. (Rick Grimes is a 'Michonner,' y'all 😋💕)

Also, it's great seeing that Rick is so comfy as he rests on the bed while letting Michonne know she’s the one whose been keeping this place safe and figuring out how to improve it. After roughing it in prison cells, the woods, and mattress-less rooms during the saviors' reign, it's great to see him get to just make himself comfortable in a warm bed with the love of his life.

And Michonne is all multi-tasking by listening to him, writing notes down, and setting a plan to take their daughter to the doctor. Like truly, Rick,...

But he already knows that. 😊

Then I love seeing this parents moment of them talking about Judith’s cough and taking her to the doctor. Rick assures that he checked on her and it’s probably just a cough but Mama Michonne still wants to be sure so she says she's going to take her to Siddiq just in case. And Rick is immediately on board saying he’ll join them. I love this dad, y’all. 🥰

Like this is what’s important to Rick always, so even as a leader with so much on his plate, being around for his family is always the priority, even for just an unassuming doctor's visit. 

And I also love this exchange cuz It’s so clear that Rick and Michonne are equally Judith's parents and obviously have a lot of care for her that they want to take precautions even if it’s a small cough. I'll also just never get over that we went from Michonne saying, "You could've just taken the formula" to now her and Rick talking about Judith as the daughter they're raising together. 🤗

Then my uncontrollable smiling has returned when Rick tells Michonne that they’ll have to promise Judith a Family Fun Day to get her to go to the doctor. 🥰 I love that they’ve coined this term, indicating Family Fun Days are something they do often. They really are such a beautiful caring family, and their eventual family reunion that I've been trying to speak into existence since 2018 is going to be HEAVENLY. 😇

The fact that the word "fun" can even be a part of their lives now is refreshing. And I also love how much this family fun day is something Rick genuinely wants not just for Judith but for him and for Michonne too. Here for it.

Michonne smiles when he says this and then has a realization moment as she asks, "Aren’t you headed back right away?" And Rick says, "I can take the day" and then says “We can.” That man ain’t tell a lie. Rick and Michonne deserve a day off, and I like how this is the beginning of Rick helping Michonne know that it’s okay to take a break in this scene. 😏 And once again, Rick demonstrates that when he's with Michonne...the world can wait. 😌

Rick says the last report was good and “Maggie will be there soon thanks to you.” Which again I love that every chance Rick gets he’s giving Michonne her props.

There's also something a bit sad about this because Rick is so convinced that the others can hold it down for a bit but that ends up not being the case and results in their family fun day getting cut short indefinitely.

I really feel like because Rick values Michonne’s influence and insights so highly in his own life, that’s why he felt so confident that Maggie would have become on board after a visit with Michonne - because he would have had Michonne visited him. He thinks everyone should get in formation when Michonne speaks just like he does, and Rick, sincerely...

Always intuitive, Michonne knows that Maggie is still angry and Daryl too so she tells Rick this and he nods and then he asks, "Well you want me to go?" And I was like now Slick Rick knows the answer to that is no lol.

Michonne places her hand on his and says she wants it to work. And by reaching for his hand it shows that ultimately she of course wants him to stay with her, she just knows how much they’re needed by the others. #SelflessQueen

Also, there's just something so moving to me about the way she looks at him in this moment. Like of course Michonne is known for her only-envision-winning mentality, but here there is also a part of her that needs some reassurance that everything they're trying to do and build really can work despite all the underlying division within the communities and tf.

Needing some reassurance, her husband so sweetly gives her just that when Rick says "It will" in the most comforting tone. And I like how he positions himself to sit up and really look in her eyes as he lets her know that even if everyone isn’t all in yet they will be, “just like we did.”

I love that Rick and Michonne are always a “we”. They’re a package deal cuz they’re one. And that line just felt like a bigger statement to their own journey. How they truly went all in with each other. 

And again the way Michonne looks at him is just heartwarming as she expresses agreement. Her love for him and belief is so visible and sincere. The way they can both always resonantly reach and reassure each other when they speak is perfection.

I love that she then says okay and touches his face, and I also was like sis, you know if you touch him like that this scene is gonna escalate lol. 😋

Then we get to one of my many favorite parts of my favorite scene when Rick looks at Michonne with such genuine abundant love in his eyes and tells her, "Thank you." 🥹

The way Rick always tells her thank you since season 3. 😭 I love the way he adores, praises, and reveres Michonne. Like, for Rick, it is always doting over Michonne hours. 

Michonne asks, "For what?" which just reminded me of when Rick asks her "For what?" when Michonne said she never thanked him in the s3 finale.

And then the way Rick takes a breath and smiles at Michonne on this bed after she asks this - it literally makes me want to shed a tear. It’s just a beyond beautiful wordless moment that really feels like Michonne taking his breath away as he’s overcome with love for her. And that might sound dramatic but hey...

Rick has been in awe of her since literally day one at that fence, and to see seasons later, after getting to know her in the deepest sense, he still has that awe of Michonne but amplified. It's great. And Rick just looks so unabashedly mesmerized by her in this moment which is heartwarming.

Like when she asks 'for what?,' you can tell Rick is just marveling about how incredible she is and how the list of reasons to thank her is miles long.

And this is not really Rick and Michonne's newlywed stage anymore, y'all. This is their married for a while, been through hell and back together after losing our son stage, and Rick still looks at Michonne like she hung the moon and the stars. 😭

And then Rick takes the scene to new heights of heartwarming when he says exactly what he's thanking her for, stating “For everything you’ve done. For everything you’re doing. For you.” Absolutely perfect. 😍😭😍😭

And it's so fitting cuz Michonne really has done so much of value, past, present, and for the future. But the best of the best is Rick saying “for you” because he’s not just grateful for what she does but who she is. And she is someone exceptional. 

I adore that in their final one-on-one irl scene Rick is outright thanking Michone for existing and for the lovely gift that she is and has always been in his life. Honestly, Rick's romantic heart needs to be studied because the things he says to and about Michonne are just everything and more. 🥹

Another thing that makes this scene and ep so special is Rick and Michonne don’t know this is their last day together. So for them, this is just another day. And I love it for showing how all this beautiful love and adoration they’re letting out is not because they’re trying to make their final day count - this is just how they are with each other on the regular.

And I love that we get to see Michonne’s reaction to receiving this genuine love and appreciation from her husband as he gives her her flowers. Michonne deserves every bit of this love. 🙌🏾💐

I am so excited that Michonne will get to have this type of love back in her life when she finally reunites with the man who adores her. 🤗 I firmly believe Rick’s awe of Michonne will only be heightened when he gets to learn how resilient she’s been in his absence for herself, their children, and their community. She’s had to be so strong for so many, and I love that she’ll finally be back in the arms of the one whom she can be most soft and taken care of with.

And the same goes for Rick. After being a man desperately looking and longing for his family while so alone for years - I am elated that he’ll be back with the woman who most makes him feel loved, sane, seen, and home. 

When Rick and Michonne see each other again you know this is about to be a direct quote from both their minds...

Also, something that’s so sweet about the love story crafted for Rick and Michonne is that adoring each other comes so effortlessly to them. They don’t have to constantly remind or force themselves to be attentive and expressive to each other, it’s the most natural thing in the world for them to love this person in front of them out loud.

So yes it’s an active daily choice to love, but I appreciate that it also feels so aligned with how Rick and Michonne want to naturally operate - head over heels in the most grown, grounded, yet grand way. 🥰

Then, after saying something so authentic, accurate, and beautiful by thanking her for pretty much everything, the two share a sweet kiss. And their every kiss is so special to me. Like it’s always passionate no matter what. And just the way he looks at her after 😭 heart-melting. They're irresistible to each other and always have been. 😍

I especially love that Michonne then leans in and kisses him again as her own thank you for his kind words. Those magnets within them mean we’re always gonna see more than one kiss. 😋

And then she slides her hand down his neck and chest and once again I was like - now sis, you know things are about to escalate if you do that. 🤭

And sure enough…😋

Rick starts closing the books and moving them away as he invitingly says, "Why don’t you take a break?" 😏 I love it. It’s cute that Michonne is instantly tickled by this too. She knows what’s up. And she knows she’s down. ijs. 😋

But first she asks, "You want me to stop working?" and she knows good and well the answer is yes - but I love that Rick has always been a little extra when it comes to Michonne so he doesn’t only say yes. Instead, he takes the pencil out of her hand and flicks it away as he says, "yeah" in a way that will never fail to have me smiling and kicking my feet cuz like...

And Michonne was undeniably amused already, but she got especially tickled when he tossed the pencil. That man always has her smitten. 😊

I adore seeing this playful side of them and this reminder that Rick and Michonne are husband and wife and also best friends who could always make each other laugh. 

Even more, I love how Rick fully believes Michonne can do any and everything…but he also knows she shouldn’t have to, especially not all the time. Which is why I appreciate his consistent thing of wanting to give them a chance to have a break and time to themselves.

It's sweet too how, without even fully seeing his face, you can still see from Rick's profile that he has this genuine proud smile upon seeing he made his wife laugh. Her joy is truly one of his favorite things. 🥹

Rick smiling at her here reminds me of how happy he was to have made Michonne smile when he came home with mints to give her in their canon ep seasons ago. #TheirLoveNeverFades

I adore that from season 3 saying "Good, cuz I see things" to this moment in season 9, Richonne stayed flirty with each other, both when strangers and when married. 🥰

And then Michonne teases as she asks Rick, "You want me to stop creating the foundations of a new civilization?"...The questions are just foreplay at this point because they both know what's about to happen rn lol. She and Rick both know that what he wants is in the first three words of her question. 😋

I love the way Michonne talks to him and looks at him and the way Rick can’t help but touch her and study her while she speaks, knowing this is the woman he is so ready to have another child with.

Somehow in this moment, Rick seems to be intently listening to her while also distracted by her all at the same dang time. 🤭

So Michonne is all cutely smiling at him while waiting for his answer... and then Rick gives an unforgettable answer.

(also the way even Rick and Michonne's movement is in sync in this scene is just 👩🏽‍🍳💋. they're magnets fr)

Rick looks right at Michonne and then says, “I can think of another way to build for the future” and it’s just ahhhhhh. The best. 😭 What a great way to reveal that Rick wants to have a baby with Michonne.

The scene organically transitions from like playful causal morning vibes to a huge serious declaration of love and development for their family and I'm too here for it. 😍

Rick wanting this baby is a huge deal, especially just a year and a half after losing Carl. And him being at this stage has everything to do with his belief in Michonne and him together and knowing he's with the love of his life who has in so many ways healed him with her one-of-a-kind presence.

He's seen the way he and Michonne work so well together in any role - parents, partners, lovers, leaders - and Rick has always known that the two of them can do anything, from reordering the world to raising a growing family.

So then Rick passionately kisses her after he says this - but like this is a giant statement and Michonne knows what he’s implying is a big deal, so she has this curious look at him. And then I absolutely adore this next moment of them transitioning to a more intimate position.

The way Rick is ready for her to do this little maneuver always felt like a nice little suggestion that they’ve done this often. And it’s just so sensual and romantic. 😍 But I also love this shift for showing how Michonne goes right out of work mode and wants to be so fully present and focused on him as she confirms that Rick is really saying what she thinks he’s saying. Their consistent ability to be present with each other deserves another shoutout cuz it's gold. 👏🏽👏🏽

Also, the way Rick just stays with his eyes glued to her as he holds her and the way Michonne tenderly holds his face in her hands. They knew they were gonna have little Richonner hearts everywhere doing front flips with this movement alone. And I ain't mad at it. 😋

Michonne looks right in Rick's eyes as she says a hopeful, "Yeah?" Then Rick says such a certain, "Yeah" that lets you know having a kid with Michonne isn’t some out-of-nowhere idea that just hit him but something he’s thought about and is sure about. Rick is always sure when it comes to him and her. 👌🏽

And you just know Rick loves their future baby already too, especially because the baby will be part of the woman he's madly in love with.

Michonne smiles and softly says, "okay" and then I love the way Rick eagerly pulls her in closer to him. 😊🧲

Then the last line of the scene is Michonne so sweetly repeating Rick's words back, as they so often do throughout their relationship, as she says, "For The Future." 🥹 

Perfect. x1000.

What a fitting final line and final scene to conclude Richonne's last private exchange like this. Especially for two reasons.

One; thinking about the long-term future used to not be a luxury they had at the start of the apocalypse so it shows how far they've come. Two; Rick and Michonne were two people who, even before they met each other, fought to believe in the future even when others around them (and at times their own past partners) didn't. But in finding each other, Rick and Michonne found the one who could fight to live like them, believe in the future like them, and hold onto hope like them - And now here they are in love and getting to feel so hopeful about their future together. 😭

It’s great that such a major decision like having another kid is one Rick and Michonne were both so quickly on the same page about. They both are ready for this. Both want their splendid love to take form in a new life being brought into the world. 🥹

And again it’s such a testament to their powerful relationship and the way they were able to help build each other back up after losing Carl to the point that they could be healed enough to want another kid. I'll never get over it.

Then I adore this shot of Rick looking up at Michonne with the two bathed in light. It feels so reflective of how highly Rick's always viewed her and how Michonne's been the light in his life. She's his future. And he's hers. 🥰

The scene concludes with Rick and Michonne sharing their last irl passionate kiss as things finally escalate, and they savor each other as they do best. And this whole scene and final moment is just so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. Richonne is stunning and their love is a work of art. 🙌🏾

'Epic love story' really is the best way to describe Richonne, and I love love love that Rick and Michonne always enjoy reveling in Richonne. We have that in common. 😋

I just so appreciate that before he left the show, it was made crystal clear that what Rick wanted for his future was to bring life into this world with Michonne, the ultimate and unequivocal love of his life. 👏🏽 And he’s going to learn that even apart, that dream was still achieved. The Get Things Done Grimes got it done. The baby Rick loved before he even was made, lives. Oh I CANNOT wait for Rick to learn about and meet RJ!!! 🥳😭

Knowing Rick and Michonne's individual journeys, it genuinely moves me that two people who went through so much and lost so much but continued to fight for the people they love got personally rewarded with this gorgeous and deep love that’s just for them. And they didn’t shy away from the love that was there, rather they valiantly and completely embraced it and it’s truly what they deserve. They both deserve to be loved this wholly.

I know this is my undeniable #1 scene because each time I watch it, it warms my whole soul and I get fully enwrapped in it - just mesmerized and overjoyed from start to finish. Watching this #1 scene, during every single part I'm just like...

And Rick and Michonne Grimes bathed in bright sunlight and sharing a passionate kiss while acknowledging they want their future and their love to now take shape in the form of a child is just such a fitting final private exchange between them on TWD and so very special. They're a shining light to each other, to the franchise, and to me, y'all. ☀️

When I say Richonne is everything it’s not just a phrase. They literally have everything going for them and are everything to each other. And every scene from my 30th to this #1 moment masterfully illustrates their resplendent love.

This season 9 scene feels like a love letter to Richonne and it's my all-time favorite for capturing everything I adore about Rick and Michonne’s relationship all in one. Tens across the board. 

I look at this whole scene and whenever I see it I just think - This is Richonne. For me, this scene is their definition. ♥️👌🏽

Richonne is truly love incarnate, and this beautiful top-tier moment captured that flawlessly. 👑🤍😌

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - I'm having a GREAT time

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 7-8 of 12 - I do love these 2 a lot. It’s such a slow burn sweet comforting quiet little romance. It’s not complicated, it’s not stretching my thoughts or imagination, but it is easy and absorbing. I'm entertained by it without being taxed. And sometimes that’s nice. It's what Thailand does best.

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 3 of 10 - Oh I’m still enjoying it. It’s only episode three and they’re basically boyfriend’s palling around shopping together and hanging out on a bicycle. What’s not to love? Also he got to meet the in-laws. Well… eventual in-laws. Also the girlfriend character. I totally forgot about her. Good times.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 12fin - Baby faints. Bad guys caught and beat up a bit. Lots of romantic moments, come checking in with ALL the sides, and it ends.

Summary?

Classic CEO meets ingenue archetypes make for a somewhat banal and simplistic romance. This could’ve come from an 80s Harlequin, except that they’re gay. It's... old fashioned. There was nothing meta about this, there was no subversion or commentary on anything BL, queer, or beyond. It’s just a straight up (okay not straight) romance. I was not wild about these characters for this particular pair, but that’s not the pair's fault, they did a decent job with their parts and I look forward to their next show - here’s hoping it’s a bit more meaty. I preferred the side couple because they were more complex and true to BL archetypes, even if they were also a bit miss-handled. A serviceable show if somewhat lacking in its convictions, but with some beautiful sex scenes, people, and fashion. I was a particular fan of Lin‘s gender bending femme style. It’s groundbreaking to see that aesthetic on one of the leads. There were multiple times they could’ve leaned into well established plot points, paranormal elements, and character tension, and instead just glossed over them.

This should probably get a 7/10, but I’m giving it an 8 because of that one oppa line at the beginning, Tenon's tatas, and the call back to Big Dragon with that iconic musical refrain in the final episode. It was a pretty fun ride, emphasis on pretty and ride. 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 5 of 12 - Lots of kissing this episode. And lots of different kinds of kissing from the same two actors in various different forms and characters. I really liked it. It’s nice to see that this pair can mix it up a little bit, even if it's just with their lips.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 12 - OK the leg care massage was so boyfriend I can’t even. Who are they trying to fool? I love the way Ing always knows exactly what is going on. Thank goodness for that confession! I’m very much looking forward to the next episode.

(The socratic method, is it?)

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 9 of 12 - Still couldn’t care less about the hets. Yawn. Ah Jane’s ex shows up. (Is that Green? Hi baby!) Meanwhile, Jane gets worried and jealous. I loved Pah in this ep, and almost wish this were a show just about him. Like a grown-up Green Fictions. (Where tf did Poon COME from allasudden? He’s a killer actor. GMMTV better use him wisely.) Also, in that scene with Pat and P’Jo, they’re eating some of my favorite food. I got a little bit of linguistic negotiation with Khun Par Phi. Cuteness. And we end with some actual communication. Yay!!! It’s kind of hilarious to see OffGun in a tentative hug. I don’t think they’ve been that way for a years.

In fact, this whole episode was pretty much about communicating properly between ages and ranks within an office and social structure. I loved that. I’m liking this one more this week. It’s still not my favorite currently airing, but I think that mostly has to do with how much other good stuff is on right now.

SPEAKING OF...

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 3-4 of 12 - Uh huh, a game of one-up-man-ship is it? I think not. That boy wants to jump his cute stepbrother’s bones so bad that big brain of his is starting to melt. I'm here for it. Also, said sunshine cutie is clearly a big old cock tease. Everybody is happy about this. They sure know how to end these episodes on cliffhangers too. I don’t know how I’m gonna wait until next week.

I’m legit mad about how fucking good this is. After Unknown too?! Taiwan is spoiling us this year and THEY SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING IT ALL ALONG.

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 3-4 of 10 - Oh my goodness do I love this show. It makes me laugh, I adore the premise, I'm wild over the characters, and the acting is killer. I’m just really happy about this show, OK? I tend to sing and clap: Oh they so cute.

Baby got his first crush and he has no idea what to do about it. I ADORE how angry he is about it. Like... How dare I even consider falling in love with somebody? How annoying of me. It’s great. I even liked the girl in the confession and how cool and sweet they both were to each other over his rejection. Bang up job. This is fantastic BL of the newer modern style. (As contrasted to On1y)

These top two shows are neck and neck for best of the week, for entirely different reasons. But I love all my sons.

Speaking of...

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 7-8 fin - Oh it’s so adorable with the drama and the little subordinate coming to their rescue, and them meeting each other’s family. "I want to become someone who is essential in your life" = peak romance.

Summation?

I loved this little show. It was a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss. It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan. Plus the kisses were good! I can’t ask for anything more, utterly charming unexpected gem of a show. What a great time! 9/10

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 11 of 12 - The lack of communication between these 2 may actually drive me insane. But I still love them. Such a sad ep. 

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 3 of 8 - Argh but also oooooo. I bet the uncut version was fantastic this week.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 5-6 of 12 - I'm starting to like this better. I’m still not convinced, but I did enjoy watching it this week. I’m getting some chemistry off the leads. Admittedly. that’s because they both behave like 16-year-olds. Surprise MosBank cameo - looking handsome as ever, boys. (Honestly, Taiwan really wants that King of the Cameos crown.) And FINALLY our side couple. I’m looking forward to next week primarily because of them. And I don’t even have them yet!

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - OK the lap cuddle was v cute. As was the handholding. But hiking with a metal griddle? Insanity. Might be the craziest thing in a BL this year. And The Sign aired this year. Meanwhile, not a dead fish kiss! Yay! 

It's airing but...

4 Minutes (Sat Gaga) eps 1-6 of 8 - Gaga picked this one up so we can watch it there. I'm waiting until the end, it seems angsty and confusing and full of awful people being awful. But also... high heat and I'm shallow. So we shall see which devil wins (and how it ends).

In case you missed it

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. It's just taking me some time. This isn't really a bingable show, not for me anyway. It's A LOT to take all at once.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming SEPTEMBER 2024:

9/? The Time of Fever (Korea iQIYI) 6 eps - HoTae & DongHee are back! Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, same actors, same character names I an WILD for this.

9/1 Live in Love (Thai Sun Gaga) 5 eps - Short series featuring and online romance turning IRL.

9/3 Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - Based on a manga, longer than usual run time. A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL. Here it is!

9/6 Kidnap (Thai Friday GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - Ohm Pawat is back for Frigays it's gonna be a blast.

9/7 The Hidden Moon (Thai Sat ????) 10 eps - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) ‘เดือนพราง’ by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger)... A Bangkok writer is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai which is being converted into a café. He gets into an accident and nearly dies on his way there. After that, he sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, one boy catches his attention. Was substantially recast.

9/9 Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) 12 eps? - Be gay YinWar, do crimes. Dehup gives us Yin, War, Mark and a few other familiar faces in a Leverage sitch, only queerer.

9/14 Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sat ????) ?? eps - Remake of the original. I'm scared too.

9/15 Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - Assistant to a player boss who is in love with that boss decides to quit to save himself. The boss then makes a move. (A gay What's up with Secretary Kim?)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 eps - Lawyer and a con artist meet at a bar, pair up, fall in love.

9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.

Adventures in miss-captions

(been a while since we had one of these)

SNICKER "nail you" and a "nail you down" = completely different things. But this being Japan they might have met either or both. (Cosmetic)

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Why yes, you do have the prettiest lips in the biz. No need to tease us like that. (Battle)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[littlebatgames]

Cowboys + Vampires = yes please

When I first started writing Vampire Therapist, this guy was the player character.

Andromachos is 3000 years old. He's experienced, strong, and intimidatingly good looking. When I started putting him in front of the game's therapy clients, I found that Andromachos was so wise, he sucked all the humor out of the room. Beyond that, I think his clients were a little afraid of disappointing him.

I recast him in the role of mentor, and as an experiment, I recast the therapist as a cowboy, doing a silly voice in my studio. But it stuck. It turns out that a cowboy was just what the Vampire Therapist story needed. Cowboys are more attuned to the earth -- they "touch grass." They're more folksy, much easier to approach than a character like Andromachos. I also needed a character that would learn along with the player, which is how I came up with Sam Walls.

Here are some of our earlier renderings of Sam. Since he's *been through it*, we wanted to show some world weariness and humanity.

He looks great! He's a very handsome fella, crushworthy in his own right. But the core of Vampire Therapist is in compassion and humor, so we needed to lighten up Sam some. If you've played the game, you know he's a pretty lighthearted fella!

These are some of @nomnomroko's first renderings of Sam. You can see her style coming through here, retaining Sam's humanity but with the harder line style that we use on Vampire Therapist to make characters extra characterful and expressive. We decided on a mix of C and D, and got to work on some of the first pose renderings.

You can see the benefits of the Vampire Therapist style coming through already in the highly expressive faces we needed to depict a truly compassionate therapist! Also, @nomnomroko's extraordinary hands.

Costume choices. This was feeling a little formal, and we thought we could play to our strengths even more by showing a bit more skin. After more tweaks and shading, we had our man.

It's incredibly gratifying to see players resonating with Sam's sweetness, patience, and compassion, and his character design really helps reinforce those characteristics. The most common word we get associated with him is "adorable," and although that might make him feel awkward, I guess one can't argue with reality.

Check out our Steam page to learn more about Vampire Therapist! We've made something fun and heartwarming and I'd love for you to wishlist it. If we do well, I've got some crazy ideas and characters planned for the sequel!

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU - Reclaiming

This is a little something I have had in mind for a while :3

TImeline wise? We are muuuuuch further. Like. late spring early summer (So the gang has been in farmtale for over half a year now!)

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We are back with Baby Pov :3 @spotaus you ready friend?

No Beta'ing or Edits. We just go with whatever i wrote >:D

*-----------------*

Nightmare sits on his little chair on the bright yellow porch of the Danielle Farm.

Ngihtmare watches as His four speak with the two nice ladies.

Ellie just sits wiht her head in her hands, she had been crying before. Dani isn't much better as she looks over their dying tree farm.

Killer frowns "I don't get it! You guys won the lawsuit right?! There was proof of sabotage! I thought you got money and everything?"

Dani chuckles as she rubs her cheek, removing some tears "It matters little... The trees are almost all dead... Even with the money... There is enough for us to live comfortable yeah.. but it isn't enough to restore the damage..." she looks back at their farm.

Horror frowns as he looks back "Any that survived?"

Dani sighs "Technically they are still alive... but they are dying... we checked all of them and well..." she sighs "only a few of our oldest cherry trees are still okay... and those aren't baring fruit anymore, probably part of why they weren't too affected." she sighs "i don't know the science behind it..."

Nightmare frowns and looks at Dust. Dust notices him and shakes his skull.

It had been going on since a month or so... The girls were beyond alarmed and panicked when they found one of their trees just dying for no reason. It got worse when it became clear that it had spread.

They thought wood rot at first and removed the sick trees but later realised their very land had been sabotaged and poisoned.

Killer frowns "And can it be healed?"

Dani shakes her head as she looks back at the trees that are still not showing any new leaves. "Maybe... but getting things for that? It is too expensive... and even than it would only save the cherry trees... and well... those aren't the real money makers and the thing we have our living with..." she rubs the perfect yellow wood.

Nightmare knows what she is talking about. THe two had combined their magic and made a new tree. somekind of mushroom tree combination.

Nightmare tugs on Cross's sleeve and he looks down "yeah nightmare?"

Ngihtmare looks at Dani "Can you make a new one? Like you made the first one?" That is how their farm started after all.

Dani smiles before sighing and shaking her head again "Our land used to be a forest... What we did was make one tree and let it... well.. infect and change the other trees around it. We eventually made sure it couldn't spread further and out of the area we wanted with magical barriers in the ground... but without new trees we can't go it again."

Ngihtmare frowns "and trees take time..." even their mushroom trees take a few years to fully grow.

Dani nods and smiles sadly at the others "We are... going to share the news with everyone later... Look for a new place and new jobs..." she rubs her eyes "new start... again."

Ellie sobs miserably "I don't wanne move..."

Dani looks back sadly at her other half.

Nightmare watches as his four think but clearly can't think of much. They had grown closer with the other two monsters. The two had often come by with extra wood for their home repairs and later with old mechinery and other things for them to repair and use as they saw fit.

The two had to drive a lot and deliver their wares a lot and got too many places. They made sure to keep an eye open for anything that others in their community wanted.

So when they heard something was up with their farm? They got to work. Horror had recognised the poison together with Crop and Dust had isolated and indentified it.

Killer had been very helpful with helpign the girls get their win in the lawsuit. Killer still has his silver tongue after all.

Nightmare hops off of the chair and wanders a bit further into the tree farm. He had been show their center tree before. THe biggest tree of their whole farm and the strongest of them all.

Nightmare stands before it and stares. It is sick. It looks a sick grey and no longer the beautiful strong branches that had made it strong. Nightmare inches closer as he stands before it.

When he first got shown this place he had been afraid he would get reminded of his mother. but it was different. These trees? They are really trees. just nature. His mother had always been strange compared to the natural trees. ironically, Nim had been something unnatural.

a whisper.

Nightmar eblinks and tilts his skull "hello?"

another whisper. it aren't words. it is more of a whisper like the wind going through leaves and leaving with a whistle. Yet....

yet...

Nightmare blinks as he inches closer "I am sorry it hurts..."

more whispers. but it isn't what he would expect... it isn't...

Nightmare tilts his skull "I don't think it can hurt me... like it is hurting you..." Nightmare finally truly gets it now. It is all connected. It are trees which grow like mushrooms. the roots are all connected and they all talk and communicate and share the magic and resources between them...

It si why they are all sick.

Nightmare frowns as he hugs himself close "I am sorry i can't help..."

another whistle. a whisper. it is a reassurance. but also an apology. The trees love the two who take care of them. Who helped them flourish. They don't want to leave the two.

Nightmare frowns before a a thought about himself returns. Something he hadn't acknowledged or even thought about in a long time. Not since he got his job as god...

He was a nature spirit. He may now be a skeleton but his core? His soul? Was still the same as when he was a ball of energy, a tiny nature spirit.

Maybe...

He slowly raises his hands near the tree "I can try to help..."

A slightly louder whistle and whisper. To be careful. To not hurt himself.

Ngihtmare touches the tree and feels the connection all over the farm. This farm is so much larger than his home. So much larger than Crop's farm!

Still. he feels along it. It is strange. He can't really interact with any of it. He just feels along it. It is strange and he is seeing double. But then he spots it. Something that is wrong. A greyness that is eating away the energy and colour of this feeling. He gets there and... and what now? He foudn it... he thinks... it is like a smudge. a smudge that eats and makes what was there before disappear...

He can't heal... but... maybe he can just... remove it?

He tugs and tugs on the thing. it doens't want to let go but eventually it stands no chance.

Nightmare feels it and it feels wrong. But it needs to disconnect from the trees! But how? He is right now kinda there with the trees connection and he has the thing and...

Ngihtamre concentrates and imagines holding it prisoner. Holding it close but seperate from his own.

It is now like a thin fill over him, still in his minds eye. His normal eyes don't see anything wrong or different of before.

Okay... what now? What is he doing anyway? How does this work?

"Nightmare!!"

Cross?

Ngihtamre tries to turn towards the voice and sees a bright light purple energy come towards him. a blink later and it is Cross normally. He looks worried.

And then he doesnt see the bright yellow of the energy of the tree anymore but just the normal trees.

He feels sick.

Cross gets to him and picks him up "Ngihty! We told you not to use your magic. It is still fragile..."

FRagile? oh.

Nightmare notices the now obvious part cyan and part purple light shinign unto the white of Cross's outfit... Woops... overdid it again...

A loud gasp "Oh no! Is he okay? I am so sorry. I didn't think... It never hurt any of us?" Dani is by Cross and looks horrified. Right... most of them haven't seen his scars.

Dust is by them in a moment and checks him over as Cross speaks "No this... this is a thing that happens if he overuses his fragile magic..."

Nightmare isn't relaly paying attention as he tugs on Dust's scarf and mutters "Dusty.... I feel sick..."

Dust frowns as he checks his temporature and skull over.

Nightmare feels something slowly crawl up his system and his magic starts to shape to get rit of it... He tugs harder on the scarf and mutters "sick...."

Horror gets it as he searches before holding up a basket by his skull. Ngihtamre doesn't wait and vomits.

Grey sludge that burns on his tongue leaves his body and he shudders. But in one go and it is all out and he feels a million times better.

Nightmare blinks at the weird grey blob of mass in the basket. Huh... pretty sure that has more mass than Nightmare has.

Cross just holds him tighter and rubs his back "that... is new..."

Dust looks at the basket and Horror looks around.

Nightmare blinks and looks at Horror "It will cause sickness." he is sure. So sure. but how does he explain. He doesn't have the words ready. He just hopes Horror understands him. His four always understand him.

Horror looks at him before looking at the basket thoguhtfully "Think we can burn it?"

Burn... kill it... Nightmare nods. That sounds good.

Horror looks at the girls "We euh..." he looks at the basket "I am not sure what this is... We need to look into it?"

Dani nods as she rubs her arms "of coruse... of course... I am so sorry something here caused him to get sick or overuse his magic and..." she then looks sadly at her trees.

Ngihtmare blinks as he already feels sleepy but still he says it "don't be sad... they don't want you to be sad."

Dani blinks and turns to Nightmare "waht... what do you mean?"

Ngihtmare hums and just nuzzles closer to Cross. he listens to the soft whistle and whisper. then he mutters sleepily "They already feel a bit better... They like you two... just rest..." and he yawns.

Killer steps over and starts speaking with Dani. Nightmare can't really hear it anymore as he falls asleep. Very tired and Cross is so warm.

---

Killer groans as he hears loud pounding on his door. God can't they just have a lay in today? He groans as he looks to the side adn sees Dust grumble angerly as he rolls further around Nightmare. Nightmare however is still completely out. Not having stirred much since the day before.

Killer checks him over first but still finds him just peacefully asleep. Nothing wrong. Probably just exhausted. Though none of them are even sure what Ngihtmare did to cause him to go so low on magic and energy.

More pounding on the door and Killer groans as he staggers over to the door. STill just in his sweats and sleeping shirt. He opens the door and shoots the other, Ellie, a grumpy look "I know I said We would be willing to help but i think i didn't need to imply to not do this at 6." or whatever time it was.

Ellie just stands there, her truck still running "It is fixed."

Killer blinks ".... what?"

Ellie shakes his shoulders as she speaks "It is FIXED. The trees! There are leaves growing! It is fixed! The whole farm!"

THe information connects. Killer stands up straight as he stares at the bunny monster in shock. He glances over his shoulder before looking abck "what?"

Ellie smiles brightly "I dom't... I don't know how! But... he fixed it Killer!"

Killer blinks before he feels panic as he grabs her shoulder "no one can know."

Ellie blinks "but... he caused a miracle... he-"

Killer nods "exactly. Ellie. What do you think happens when people learn what he did? What he could do? We don't even know he could do this."

Ellie blinks before her eyes widen and her face twists with worry "oh..." she looks thoughtful for a moment before a large grin appears "in that case. Thank you Killer! For bringing up the idea to put barriers around each tree section! We managed to get some seperation in the infection!" she then hugs him before pulling away "Thank you... I will tell Dani too." she grins and makes a zipping her lips motion before throwing away an invisible key.

She then apologises and waves before quickly rushing to her car. Killer cna see her grab a mobile phone as she starts calling. Killer waits a moment to and reads her lips as she greets Dani and tells her that what happened can not get out. That they just found a way to isolate the problem and remove the sick trees.

Something that if you knew how this thing worked probably wouldn't know but it is enough of a story to not arouse suspicion. Ellie waves and then she drives off after finishing her call. No doubt to return to her girlfriend, or are they already wives? Killer isn't sure.

Killer returns to the nest and sits next to the still sleeping Dust and Nightmare. Horror and Cross are no doubt out and doing stuff to prepare them for their first tiny harvest.

His godhood become active again...

Killer is just happy it isn't connected to that stupid balance anymore.

Though he does not look forward to trying to figure out what exactly it is.

*-------------------*

:3 the tiny god may have finally found something he likes and wants to do :3

Just because it isn't too obvious. It is restoration. After all. That is what Nightmare does.

First he restored the balance (or tried to). And then he got his boys, and isn't restoration just a way of saying mending? Which is healing? And what did the four do when they were near Nightmare? :3

I think you can see the pattern.

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[burst-of-iridescent]

I’ve been reading a series where a guy is in a near identical situation to Katara was in The Southern Raiders. But what I find interesting is that no one really tries to stop him and the fandom considers it completely justified. I can’t help but think despite it being two different series and fandoms that Katara’s gender has at least something to do with this. When a male character wants to seek revenge and kill the murderer to do it, the narrative and fans justify it but when it’s a female character she’s vilified, seen as out of control and letting her emotions get the better of her. I hate when people say Aang was right to say what he did and try to stop Katara from making her own choice. It doesn’t help that we know Bryke is misogynistic based on well everything to do with their female characters post series after they didn’t have the talented writers who actually understood the characters helping them. And sure I know Bryke themselves didn’t write The Southern Raiders but we know from script leaks that there were more shippy Zutara moments that were cut and I think we know who’s to blame for that. So I wouldn’t be surprised if they still influenced the more problematic parts of that episode. Such as Aang and Katara never talking about or resolving their conflict, Sokka calling Aang wise beyond his years and never talking about or resolving his side if things with Katara, and even Zuko weirdly agreeing with Aang at the end that “you were right about what Katara needed.” Even though she literally just told Aang a second ago that he was wrong and she would never forgive him and doesn’t know why she couldn’t kill him. If you couldn’t tell I have rather mixed feelings about TSR episode.

Sorry for the ramble. How do you think their conversations (Katara, Aang, and Sokka) would go if they were to talk about it all after the episode?

oh misogyny definitely plays a part - just compare the way people react to inigo montoya from the princess bride vs katara in tsr - but i think the bigger issue is the overt narrative framing of the episode.

on a first watch, tsr appears to push a very simplistic idea of "violence = bad" and strongly favours aang's perspective, which encourages the viewer to see him as being in the right while katara and zuko appear to be in the wrong. the fact that aang never changes his perspective and both zuko and sokka are (forcibly and very uncharacteristically) made to take his side by the end naturally inclines the audience to do so as well.

it's only with a closer reading that you see a more nuanced take which highlights the flaws in aang's thinking and treatment of katara. katara herself makes it clear that what aang wanted her to do would not have helped her find closure, and she began her healing process without ever forgiving yon rha - which is exactly why i hate people attributing her decision not to kill yon rha to aang when she explicitly stated she did not and would not ever do what he wanted her to!

these are the same people who will also blame zuko for being a "bad influence" on katara, as if the only reason she hunted down her own mother's killer is because zuko convinced her to do it. katara isn't some weeping willow to be bent to the will of zuko and aang; her decisions are her own, not based on the whims of the boys in her life. can we please stop stripping katara of all her agency in the one episode that actually focuses on her trauma and healing?

rant aside, i do wish that katara had talked to sokka after this episode and i imagine there would be some apologising on both sides. sokka - a realistic sokka, because my god was he wildly out of character - would probably check in on her and admit that he was afraid for her safety and well-being. katara would likely apologise for the "you didn't love her the way i did!" remark and i think it would've been nice for them to finally talk about kya and for katara to bring up the conversation she overheard from the runaway about how sokka confessed to seeing her as a surrogate mother.

(imo the impact hearing that would've had on katara was largely downplayed in the show, and is likely part of the reason she reacted to sokka the way she did in the southern raiders, but that's a post for another time.)

the katara-aang conversation would probably have gone the same way that it did in canon, because the issues with their dynamic in tsr are part of the underlying problems with the kat.aang relationship in general. i would've liked to see aang have a little more of a reaction to katara saying she never forgave yon rha (he doesn't seem affected at all in the show), and for that to maybe prompt him to really reflect on what he said.

but ultimately what really has to be tackled here is aang's idealization of katara and his focus on clinging to air nomad values at the expense of those from the other nations - and those problems run too deep to be fixed in a single episode or conversation. the southern raiders would have been a good starting point, but unfortunately the finale never engages with these issues, and so what could've been a great arc ends up going nowhere at all.

[here2bbtstrash]

real magic (explicit)

genre: smut, fluff, bangin’ your boss, m attempts kidfic - part of a hyung holiday collab !

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

word count: 16.7k 😩

contains: ~*~explicit sexual content (after kind of a slow burn sorry lol)~*~ the "moving back to your hometown" hallmark trope, a nick jonas poster (yes that's a warning), some taekook slander in the beginning because i thought it was funny, namjoon is so buff and so dumb but so wise and so hot, moni is a little shit, namjoon is a dad!, namjoon's kid uses they/them pronouns but it's not like A Focus of the story it's just flavor, reader thinks joon has a dead wife for like one second 💀 mentions of teenage pregnancy and co-parenting, one incredibly stupid asshole customer lmao, mint choco slander (it's what namjoon would want 😌), obviously there is an employee/boss power dynamic but they talk about it and figure it out because this is namjoon and he overthinks everything, namjoon driving (he's a dad i have to assume he would get his license if he had a literal child!!!!!!!!) and a lotta sentimental holiday and life talk. here are ur sex specific warnings: making out/going to second base in a car in a parking lot (what is it with my namjoons and cars in parking lots yo), fingering, semi-drunk sex, and fuckin' rawwwww with a smidge of size and breeding kink lmao (but she's on the pill!!! no more kids!!!!!!)

A/N: hello hello hi merry crisis this damn fic is finally here lmao~ as i have been babbling on about for days i really really (REALLY) love how this namjoon turned out he's just hesjkrgdhtgk such a fucking himbo but a good dad and wise and did i mention hot aaaaaa 🫠 all the love in my gay little heart to @goodsoop for their barista wisdom and real life experiences that went into this one (the cookie story will never not make me laugh) ! and to @sailoryooons for beta reading this 50 million times and encouraging me when i was convinced it sucked ass, and also for making all the gorgeous banners for this collab 😭

which btw - be sure to go check out @gimmethatagustd & @sailoryooons & @nabiolive 's fics tooooo !!! i've loved collabing with them so very much even when we were all hashtag Going Through It, we got the whole damn hyung line you hear meeeeee 🎁🎁🎁🎁

read on AO3!

Rudely awoken by the incessant beep of your alarm, you open your eyes to find Nick Jonas staring back at you, and you sit up with a scream.

Realization washes over your sleep-addled brain in waves: first, that you aren’t actually staring at a real person. He’s just smizing on a hot pink poster, held up by some remarkably durable masking tape you stuck to the wall fifteen years ago. Second, it comes back to you that you are staring at said poster because you’ve woken up in your childhood bedroom. It’s been left untouched since you were a teenager, like a weird time capsule of all your high school obsessions.

After reaching for your phone to silence the alarm, you kick your way out from under the blankets, trying not to make eye contact with Nick, or Justin, or Zayn as you stumble to the bathroom. The circumstances of your grand return to living in your goddamn parents’ house linger like a bad taste in your mouth, one that all the tongue brushing in the world can’t remove.

It still doesn’t feel real. Taehyung, your best friend in the world since freshman year of college, kicked you out. Sure, it may have been phrased more like a gentle request, but as far as your ego is concerned, it still feels like exile. Banishment, even. The person you thought you could never be parted from made his choice, and he chose his fucking boyfriend over you.

Jungkook. You think the name with all the venom your cold, dead heart can manage as you spit toothpaste into the sink.

Jungkook, the weird, bug-eyed kid who put his toe-socked feet on your couch, drank his banana milk out of your favorite mug, and ate up all of your Samyang ramyeon because he ‘thought it was communal’. 

Jungkook, who ruined your sleep schedule nightly, either by fucking Taehyung senseless on the other side of your paper-thin apartment wall, or by blasting the same four Ariana Grande songs over and over on his bluetooth speaker and singing along in an annoyingly good voice. Either activity would go on well into the early hours of the morning, until you had to bang on the wall so hard you nearly put your fist through it.

Jungkook, whose dog once took a shit right on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

Bam was cute enough to forgive, of course. But you can never forgive Taehyung for his betrayal. Especially when he knew you’d just been fired from your shitty coffee shop job for the stupidest reason ever, and he didn’t let that derail or even delay him. He still went ahead and delivered the killing blow.

Et tu, Taehyung? you think angrily to yourself as you stand in front of the suitcase containing as much of your closet as you could possibly fit. You still need to go back for your bigger furniture, and little things like your plates and your mugs and your silverware, which Jungkook is probably putting his grimy little fingers all over at this very moment. But until you’ve checked out of your indefinite vacation at the Nightmare Parental Hotel, there doesn’t really seem a point.

If you were less upset, you might take consolation in the fact that your parents aren’t actually here, that they’ve jaunted off to their timeshare until the new year, but you’re busy being too swallowed whole by your misery to find an ounce of joy in any piece of your current reality.

You dig through the pile of clothes until you manage to pull out something halfway decent. The first order of business now that you’ve moved back in is simple: acquire another stupid coffee shop job. You have no plans to stick around long, you just need something seasonal that will give you some meager income while you start looking for a real gig, one that is ideally not in your hometown.

Watching yourself in the mirror as you pull on a simple black blouse and your least-stained pair of jeans, you attempt to mentally dust off your interview skills. You conjure up your best fake smile and customer service voice, both of which are second-nature at this point.

Why do you want this job? “I’m just so passionate about coming home sticky and verbally abused by caffeine-addicted assholes every night.”

What’s your biggest weakness? “Clearly it’s the fact that I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.”

Why were you terminated from your last job? “Oh, well, I attempted to get my previous employer to improve their standards of worker treatment. You see, I selfishly requested that they raise the bar a single notch above hell. Certainly won’t happen again!”

This should go well, you tell yourself, and your reflection grimaces back.

With several hours to kill before your job interview and a growing desire to avoid the weird nostalgia of your childhood that seems to lurk in every corner of your parents’ house, you decide to take a walk.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, and though the air is brisk, it isn’t terribly windy. You tuck in your earbuds as you shut the front door behind you and pick a direction, aimless, letting your mind wander to the soundtrack of your “seasonal depression” playlist.

A whole new crop of families must have moved into your parents’ neighborhood in the years since you moved out, because the streets are more alive with kids than you can ever remember them being, even when you were a kid yourself. Bikes and scooters lay abandoned on the sidewalks between homes, and you can hear the repeated echo of a basketball dribbling on a driveway, punctuated by distant, playful screaming.

Even in the daytime, you can tell these families have spared no expense when it comes to Christmas decor: some homes have every eave outlined in string lights, some have candy cane stakes dug into the perimeter of their perfectly manicured lawns, and some have been seemingly invaded by small armies of inflatable reindeer and snowmen. You can’t help but giggle a little at the inflatable decorations that have been set to turn off during the day, the way the airless material lays limp in the grass, giving the impression of a yard strewn with dead bodies.

But you remember what it looked like when you drove in last night, everything lit up and brought to life.

Your parents definitely didn’t have inflatable lawn decorations when you were a kid, but you’d get so excited every year when your dad would drag the ladder out and spend the day stringing up the simple rainbow lights you did have. You still remember the little spark of joy you’d feel in your chest when the colors would click on after dark, the way you would run outside every night just to see them twinkle, your breath puffing steam clouds in the air, your bare feet freezing on the ice-cold driveway.

It felt like magic then. But somewhere along the way you grew up. And now that feeling’s gone. Even at night, the lights just look like… lights.

Distracted as you are by the music in your ears and thoughts of your childhood that have brought you to a standstill on the sidewalk, you don’t notice what’s happening until it’s too late. 

A blur of red and white is suddenly circling around and between your legs, and you feel something twining over your ankles, then tugging with a force that threatens to knock you off balance. As you lean forward in an attempt to right yourself, the chaos in question slows enough for you to realize it’s a fluffy white dog in a red sweater, who has excitedly tangled you up in his leash.

You manage to find the looped end of the leash and slowly get yourself unwrapped while the dog continues to pant and jump and occasionally yap at you. With your legs freed, you squat down for a proper greeting, laughing to yourself as he lifts up on his hind legs, balancing his paws on your knee to lick an enthusiastic greeting across your cheek.

“Hi, puppy,” you murmur, trying to get him to hold still long enough to read the name on his tag. A voice beats you to it.

“Moni!”

When you glance up to find Moni’s owner jogging up the sidewalk, you have to make a conscious effort to keep your own tongue in your mouth, because good lord, he is fine.

He’s tall, towering over you even once you bring yourself back up to standing, and the black workout tank and athletic shorts he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to hide the thick, well-defined muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs.

Despite his lack of clothing in the cool winter air, you can see his face and neck are slick with sweat, his white-blonde hair damp with it too. There’s even a dark patch that’s soaked his shirt at his sternum, making the firm swell of his pecs that much more apparent. It takes you an extra second to break eye contact with them, but when you do finally manage to drag your gaze up to meet his, you realize his face is just as nice of a view: honey-tan skin, full lips, and cute dimples that pop as he gives a sheepish, appreciative laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathless; his voice is deep and slightly husky in a way that makes your face grow hot. You blink stupidly at him for a few moments, your mind reeling, and then it occurs to you that you still have his dog’s leash in your hand.

“No problem,” you manage, handing the looped end back over and double-checking to make sure your ankles are still free from their entanglement. Though now that this man is holding the leash, you kind of wish they weren’t.

“Moni’s usually good about not taking off when I stop to do a circuit,” he explains, like you’re the dog owner police. It makes you wonder what kind of Karens must have moved into this neighborhood since you left it. “I don’t know why he ran, maybe he saw a squirrel or something.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile, admiring Moni as he stretches and settles into a polite seated pose. “I like his sweater.”

“Thanks,” he laughs again. “C’mon Mon.”

You can’t help focusing on how big this guy’s hands are as he slips his fingers through the end of Moni’s leash, tugging slightly as if to encourage the dog back in the direction he came from.

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

“You little shit,” his owner huffs under his breath, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. You distantly realize you should probably leave them to it and continue on your walk, but this is too entertaining to turn away from now. Your hot neighbor tries one more futile attempt to get Moni to move, then seems to give up entirely.

He stoops down with a low grunt of effort that makes your core flutter as he grabs the fluffy dog and hoists him up in his arms. You try to force yourself to stop noticing the way his biceps flex, the fact that the muscles of his arms are nearly bigger than your head.

“Thanks again,” he says with a final grateful smile, and your only response is to swallow hard and stand there like an idiot as he turns and carries his spoiled dog back home.

When you arrive for your interview, you’re delighted to discover that Indigo Coffee is nothing like your last job. It’s warm and bright, with large picture windows that flood the space in sunlight, and there’s a cozy personal touch to it, the likes of which you’d certainly never see in your former corporate shell of a workplace. The sitting area is dotted with live edge wood tables and mismatched chairs. There are an array of framed paintings on the walls that look handmade in a good way, simple yet bold brush-stroke lines in a deep blue color scheme. And, you realize as your eyes linger, the shop is absolutely overflowing with plants: in simple clay pots lined up along the windows, free-standing between tables, and tucked into bookshelves placed artfully throughout the space. 

You step closer to inspect one as you wait on your interviewer and are pleased to see that it’s real, that they all are— no waxy fake leaves jammed into a thick block of cement, but real greenery sprouted in real dirt, deep brown soil gone soft from what must have been a recent watering. These are plants someone cares for, coaxed and kept alive by someone’s time and patience and love. The thought makes you smile a little despite yourself.

There’s still fucking Christmas music playing, but you figure that’s inescapable this time of year.

“Are you here for the interview?” someone asks over your shoulder. As you turn away from the plant, you wonder if you’re imagining that the voice in question sounds slightly familiar, and then you find yourself once again staring up at a fine-ass man with white-blonde hair and a sweet pair of dimples.

He’s clearly showered since your last encounter, and is now slightly more covered up in a pair of faded jeans and a gray-green flannel thrown over a black shirt emblazoned with bold white lettering: Protect Trans Kids.

“Oh.” Moni’s owner blinks back at you, and the shock on his face is so apparent that a giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Uh, hi again.”

“Hi,” you echo, equally flustered, before realizing you failed to answer his initial question. “Oh, yeah. Yes. I am. The interview. I’m— that’s me.” So well-spoken, you mentally kick yourself.

One dimple deepens slightly as he extends a hand. “Kim Namjoon. Owner of Indigo Coffee. And the world’s least obedient dog, as you saw earlier.”

You offer your best handshake in return and a smile that you surprisingly don’t have to force as you give Namjoon your name. He gestures to a table in the corner, and you each pull back a chair to have a seat. You try to banish any potential horny thoughts from your brain, but shifting into interview mode proves difficult as he rests his large hands on the table in front of him, drumming idly along to the horribly cheery music.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Namjoon’s fingers when he speaks again. “If it’s cool with you, we can just chat a little? I’m not so good at conducting formal interviews. Too inauthentic.”

It’s like you can feel some of the tension release from your shoulders. “I— yeah. That sounds great.”

“Cool,” he nods, and you try to ignore the rush of heat up your neck at the intensity of his stare. Professional, be professional. “So I saw on your resume that it looks like your last few jobs were out of town. Did you just move here?”

“Moved back,” you say quickly. “Yeah. I grew up here, actually.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen a little in clear interest. “Really? What brings you back?”

You purse your lips as you consider how to phrase it. “My life… kind of fell apart. So. I moved in with my parents for a bit. Like a winner.” His dimples pop when he smiles at your joke, and you drop your gaze to the table. “Just trying to figure out what’s next, and find something seasonal in the meantime.”

“Well, we could certainly use the help,” Namjoon admits. When you chance a glance up, there’s a look on his face like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I saw in your application that you were terminated from your last position.” He leans in, lowering his voice slightly as he continues. “I’m gonna be honest, I hate that we even ask that question. But can you tell me a bit about what happened?”

You keep your stare fixed on the wood grain in front of you as you try to stay calm. “Well, if I can be honest too...” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tell yourself to just say it. “I was fired for trying to unionize.”

“Oh.” Namjoon sounds surprised, but you can’t manage to look at him. “Really?” You nod slowly, biting down on your bottom lip. “That’s— fucking illegal.”

That makes your gaze snap back up to meet his. His brow is furrowed slightly, a muscle in his jaw pulled tight.

“Yeah,” you say belatedly. “Yeah, I know. They made up a bunch of fake excuses as to why I was fired, but I knew what it really was. It was because I wanted them to actually pay us what we were worth, and hire more workers so we weren’t being scheduled to death. And I was getting everyone else riled up too, and I guess it scared them.”

Namjoon sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Huh. Man. Well, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

It takes you a second to process what you’re hearing. Union has always been a scary word for any person in upper management you’ve previously encountered. You hadn’t expected this to be so… easy. For him to understand, or sympathize. “I— yeah. I am too.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Namjoon continues quickly, “I think it’s great, what you tried to do. I’m very pro-union.” He pauses for a moment, his face twisting slightly in thought. “I mean, admittedly, we don’t have one here. Granted, there are only five of us. I should probably ask, though, if they want one.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “I’m gonna take a guess that you probably treat your employees pretty well as-is.”

“I try,” he says with a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours again. “So, here’s the deal. You have a ton of experience, and with holiday time off and a few people out sick, I’m super understaffed right now. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders, and hopefully you feel like you can come to me if you have any issues, without fearing retaliation.”

You blink slowly, and he must be able to read the disbelief on your face. “What I’m saying is I’m offering you the seasonal position,” he clarifies. “Is that— do you, uh, accept?”

“Yes.” The word is chased by a dazed laugh, and Namjoon’s dimples resurface around a small smile.

“Cool. I told you I’m bad at interviews,” he huffs, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. You try to ignore the swell of his bicep, clearly visible even beneath his bulky flannel. “I know this is a lot to ask, but. Is there any chance you can start, like, right now? Because Jimin’s shift ends in…” He tilts a little, fishing his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, and his mouth drops open in surprise when he gets a glimpse at the time.

“Oh, shit,” Namjoon murmurs, and then he raises his voice to call across the mostly empty store. “Jimin-ah! I’m so sorry!”

You turn around, your gaze landing on the barista leaned up against the counter next to the register. His dyed-gray hair dusts over his eyes, which pull into crescent moons as he laughs. “It’s cool. I knew you were almost done. But I’m gonna clock out now, if she’s good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning back to Namjoon. “Yeah, I can start now.”

The two of you move behind the counter, and you sweep your hair up out of your face while Namjoon starts to go through a basic run-down of where everything is located. The overhead bell tinkles as Jimin shoulders the front door open, and he lifts a hand over his head in parting.

“See you after the holidays!”

“Alright,” Namjoon says as he waves to Jimin, a little breathless from having rambled on for the better part of several minutes. “That was a lot. Do you want to just start on register? I feel like that should be easy enough, and I can train you on everything as people come in, since it’s pretty dead right now.”

You shrug. “Works for me.”

Within half an hour, there’s a line out the door, and Namjoon has managed to spill espresso grounds all over his shoes for a second time.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, taking a step back. “Sorry. Been a minute since I’ve had to be back here.”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you can see from the faces of the customers who have been waiting on their drinks for several minutes— including one who’s had hers remade three times, all of them incorrect— that it is very much not okay. You certainly lack the people skills to smooth over any of Namjoon’s mistakes, and you can feel a stress-induced eye twitch starting to flare up, brought on by Kelly Clarkson’s incessant yuletide belting.

You give your boss five more minutes, wherein he scalds his hand on the milk steamer, forgets about a cookie in the warmer until it’s burnt entirely black, and nearly turns the blender on with the lid off, before you finally intervene.

“Hey, Namjoon?” You do your best to keep your expression pleasant when he glances over at you, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should switch?”

“A-are you sure?” he stammers, apparently torn between wanting to be a good boss and a clear desire to just take the L. “I feel bad, this is literally your first shift.”

“I think I can handle it,” you reassure him, lowering your voice a little. “Let me take care of the drinks, and you can do your… endearing golden retriever thing. Keep the people entertained.”

Color blooms in the apples of his cheeks as his dimples make a brief appearance. “Oh, okay. Can do. Just let me know if you need help.”

You can’t imagine a universe where his clumsiness could in any way be considered helpful, but you keep that thought to yourself as you smile at him. At least he’s cute.

Things improve dramatically once your roles are reversed: as you expected, Namjoon is far more charismatic than he is coordinated, and he chats endlessly with the people waiting on their drinks, hardly pausing long enough to take a breath, while you scramble around trying to get your bearings in a new environment. The steady stream of customers doesn’t let up for the rest of the evening, until the last few finally trickle out of the store a few minutes after close, and you waste no time locking the door behind them with a sigh of relief.

You spin around, letting your back thud against the door for a moment as you watch Namjoon fight with a broom and dustpan in a futile attempt to get espresso dust out of the grout between the tiles. There’s a dull ache starting to thud in your skull, and it’s only deepened by the shrill opening notes of another fucking a cappella song.

“Namjoon?” you ask as you cross toward the counter, and his head instantly snaps up. “Do you think we could maybe turn off the Christmas music?”

“Oh, sure.” He’s already fumbling to grab his phone, and he taps a few buttons until the music suddenly switches, a soft voice starting to croon over an old school beat.

“Thanks,” you say, and you can’t help the pity smile that pulls up your mouth when he returns to his useless task. “I think the grout might be a lost cause, but I can go ahead and mop whenever you’re ready.”

He rights himself with a defeated sigh, nodding his head to the storage closet in the back. You follow his lead to retrieve the mop, then set about filling up the bucket with water and cleaning solution. Namjoon’s voice floats in from the front of the shop as he busies himself with his own closing tasks.

“Imagine smokin’ weed in the street without cops harassin’ / Imagine goin’ to court with no trial / Lifestyle cruisin’ blue Bahama waters / No welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters...”

You’re laughing a little as you roll the bucket out, starting at the door to work your way back. “Is this… Nas?”

He glances up, like he’s just remembered other people exist in the world. “Yeah, sorry. I can turn it off.”

“No, no,” you say quickly when he starts to reach for his phone again. “This is good. Much better than Pentatonix. I’m just… you really know every word.”

Namjoon shrugs, clearly embarrassed. “He’s my favorite.”

The revelation surprises you, and you pause to think as you pull the mop back and forth over the tile floor. It didn’t even occur to you that Namjoon would have a favorite kind of music, apart from the soft elevator muzak you imagine must play on a steady loop in his brain, given the way he fumbles through life.

“I actually wanted to be a rapper,” his voice comes back, and you look up again, your interest piqued. “When I was younger. But you know. Life had other plans.”

“Ah yes, the rapper to coffee shop owner pipeline,” you muse, and he barks a laugh that you wish you didn’t find so hot. Shaking your head, you force yourself to look back down at the espresso-studded tile, doing your best to shove your attraction aside and not think about it. He’s your boss, dumbass.

Still, it’s hard to ignore, particularly as he continues to rap along to each song that comes on, his voice deeper and huskier than you’ve heard it thus far in casual conversation. He doesn’t miss a word, and you can’t deny that it’s impressive. And sexy. Fuck.

Once the floor has been successfully mopped and everything else is put back together, you hop up onto the counter to wait for the tile to dry, and your gaze lingers over Namjoon’s large hands as he cashes out the register. He flips through the bills in time to the music, still humming under his breath as he goes, and you do your best to hold in your laugh when he inevitably loses count and has to start over from the beginning. Thankfully the second attempt sticks, and he smiles proudly to himself as he zips everything up into the deposit bag.

“First shift down,” he announces, as if you might have forgotten, and then his eyes find yours and you swear your breath gets stuck in your throat. “How do you feel?”

It only occurs to you now how close he’s standing to you, and with the way your legs are casually dangling over the edge of the counter, it wouldn’t take much for him to step between them. And god, he’s so damn tall, you’re practically eye-to-eye.

“Uh,” you manage, your mouth suddenly gone dry. “Good. I feel good.”

“That’s good,” he answers, his voice dipping into that throaty tone again. You find yourself wondering absentmindedly if maybe Namjoon has a customer service voice, too, and then for the briefest flash of a moment, his gaze flits from your eyes to your lips and back again. It’s so quick, you can’t be sure it even really happened.

You tell yourself it’s just your exhausted post-shift brain seeing things that aren’t there, wanting this fine-ass man to be into you, too.

A sudden bang on the front door makes you flinch so hard, you come dangerously close to kneeing Namjoon in the crotch. He takes a large step back as you whip around to look over your shoulder, only to see a kid’s face pressed to the glass, framed by two small hands. You’ve never been great at telling the age of children on sight, but this one looks like… maybe a middle schooler?

“Whose fucking kid is that?” you say automatically, blinking, dumbfounded. Namjoon’s laugh is a low rumble behind you.

“That would be mine.”

It takes several days for the shock to wear off. Your boss has a kid. Kim “could’ve burnt the building down with a single cookie” Namjoon is at least partially responsible for keeping another human being alive. Which means you have a crush… on a father.

A father who also happens to be your boss.

You try not to think about any of it.

There’d been brief introductions when you left the shop that first night, but all you’d really managed to glean was the kid’s name, Sol, and their pronouns. As someone who is historically terrible with children, you’d excused yourself the minute Namjoon locked the front door, after what felt like an eternity spent watching him pat each of his pockets twice before he finally managed to find his keys.

“I hope it wasn’t weird,” your boss says out of nowhere in the middle of your next shift, during a much-needed moment of peace after the morning rush. “For you to meet Sol like that. It’s just been hard, since their mom, uh…”

Namjoon trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You glance up, eyes widening as you put the pieces together.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “I’m so sorry.”

His gaze meets yours, and it’s like you can see the wheels in his head turning before he catches up. “No, no,” he says quickly, and then he starts to laugh. “Wow, I really did not start that sentence well. She’s not dead. She just got married, and she’s on her honeymoon for most of December. The logistics have been hard, is what I meant.”

An embarrassed heat creeps up your neck, and your elbows thud against the countertop as you press your face into your hands, attempting to muffle your own laughter. “In my defense,” you groan, “you really made it sound like you had a dead wife.”

“Not dead! She’s fine!” Namjoon’s dimples are as prominent as you’ve ever seen them when you peek up at him from your full-body cringe. “Very much alive, very much not my wife.” The muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his chest, leaning up against the counter next to the register. “Never was, actually.”

“Really?” you answer automatically, your damned curiosity getting the better of you.

He nods, his voice a little more serious when he continues, rambling on in the way that you’ve already started to suspect is his default setting, talking as if to fill empty space. “We were seventeen when we got pregnant. I knew we were young then, but I don’t think I really realized. Now that I’m almost thirty, I know: seventeen is fucking young.”

The line of his jaw tightens, thoughtful, as his gaze sweeps over the floor. “I thought I wanted to marry her, or at least felt obligated to. Like it was the right thing to do, but. We didn’t have any money, and then it all got so hectic after Sol was born. Didn’t even take a year for us to realize it wasn’t gonna work, not for us.”

You blink, trying to take in all the new information. “That sounds really hard.”

“It was,” Namjoon admits. “But we were both on the same page about it. That no matter what, Sol had to come first.” He glances up with a shrug. “It’s all good now. She’s a great co-parent, and her new husband is really good for her. And… well, I have Indigo.”

The tinkling of the bell at the front door snaps you out of a daze, makes you realize you’ve been staring at him, dumbfounded. You do your best to shoot Namjoon a soft smile, and to ignore the pang in your chest as he turns to greet the customer that’s just wandered in, already starting to babble on about the weather.

You find yourself more grateful for Namjoon’s presence with each passing shift, in a way that you try to convince yourself is thoroughly platonic. Between fairly steady work and his very steady chatter, your time spent in the warm, sunny space of Indigo turns out to be a good distraction from your own miserable excuse for a life. The repetitive motions of making drink after drink are oddly comforting, and you have to admit, Namjoon really is good with the customers.

“Peppermint mocha to go.”

You do your best to follow up the sentence with a polite smile as you set a drink down for the customer who has done nothing but scowl at you the whole time you were making it. The silent prayer you’ve sent out to the universe that he’ll take whatever personal problem he has elsewhere and leave you alone has clearly gone unanswered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, and you can feel your shoulders creep up towards your ears in anticipation of nothing good. Here we fucking go.

You blink twice, trying to keep your service persona engaged. “I’m sorry, is that not what you ordered?” It is, you know it is, you heard him say it.

“No, that’s mine,” the man quickly responds, reaching out to snatch the cup in a motion that makes you flinch. “But do you hear this fucking song?”

The honest answer is no: at this point the ever-present Christmas music might as well be white noise, so you have to make a conscious effort to tune back in and listen. It’s a few seconds, and then you pick up on the melody. “…Last Christmas?”

“Uh, yeah,” he continues, explaining like you’re stupid. “The original. Last Christmas by Wham!” When it’s clear you still aren’t putting the pieces together, he scoffs in pure frustration. “You just made me lose Whamageddon! I’ve won every year for the last five years, I can’t believe you would even put this on your fucking playlist!”

Your face pulls into an incredulous grimace before you can think to control it. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t make the—”

He cuts you off. “First off, I don’t need the fucking attitude. And surely you’re at least capable of checking what songs are on there, right? That’s not too advanced for you to handle?”

You didn’t even hear Namjoon walk up from the back office, but he’s suddenly stepping in front of you, and you’re more than glad to move back and let him handle this dude before you end up in jail. “Woah, woah, alright,” Namjoon interjects, his voice loud enough to carry. “What’s going on?”

The man beats you to it. “I’m trying to file a legitimate complaint and she’s rolling her fucking eyes and getting an attitude with me!”

“It’s the song,” you explain briefly, trying to keep everything about your expression neutral. “He’s mad that we’re… playing Wham.”

Namjoon’s face twists in an expression that you would find funny if you weren’t so fucking livid, one that you’re pretty sure is the mirror image of your own reaction minutes earlier. “The song? Seriously?”

You can see the guy scrambling, clearly starting to get embarrassed at his own dramatics. “Alright, I don’t have time for this. I guess I just need to take my business elsewhere, because this is ridiculous. What ever happened to the customer is always right?”

Namjoon goes silent for a minute, and you try to ignore the way the look on his face makes your pulse quicken, thudding brightly in the hollow of your neck. His voice is deadly serious when he speaks again. “I appreciate that you’re upset, but if you’re going to look my employee in the face, after she just performed a service for you, and disrespect her like that? Over a fucking song? Nah, I’m not gonna tolerate it. Maybe the next time you want someone to make you a toothpaste drink, you should take your ass to Starbucks.”

It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep the reaction off your face until the asshole has stormed out the front door, nasty drink in hand. As the bell finally tinkles to signal his departure, you collapse forward, just barely catching yourself on the counter so you don’t crumple straight down to the floor.

“Oh my god.” Your laugh of disbelief comes out more like a groan, at the ridiculous complaint and your boss’ insanely attractive comeback alike. “I fucking hate this time of year.”

“Hey.” The word is punctuated by Namjoon’s shoulder bumping into yours, and you look back up at him, still laughing a little at your own misery. His eyes search yours, sincere. “Assholes are assholes no matter what season it is. I’m sure that guy finds plenty of things to complain about the other eleven months of the year, too. Don’t let him ruin it for you.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, if only because you can do it freely now, without a man standing over you and yelling about your ‘bad attitude’. “I guess,” you huff. “And thank you.”

Namjoon shakes his head, like it’s nothing. “Chin up, okay?”

The two of you breeze through closing that night, familiar enough to fall into a steady routine now. You’re wiping everything down behind the counter and humming along to Tupac when Namjoon’s voice drags you back out of your thoughts in a way you’ve already grown accustomed to.

“You know…”

You glance up, only to realize that he’s started to flip chairs on top of tables to clear the floor, and is grabbing them two at a time, one in each hand. The image makes you a little dizzy, and you tell yourself to focus on his words, not his biceps.

“I think we make a pretty good team,” he concludes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, trying to keep your composure at the unexpected compliment. “I was thinking the same thing. And thanks again for, you know. Handling that guy.”

Namjoon shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Hey, you’re doing me a favor, taking this seasonal job. I’m not about to let anyone fuck with you.”

You bite down on a smile as you head towards the back to grab the mop, and then you hear a loud bang on the front door— it’s another sound you’ve gotten used to in your brief time at Indigo. There’s the click of the deadbolt, chased by the tinkling overhead bell and Namjoon’s chiding voice. “Homie, if you break my door I’m gonna make you get a job to pay me back for it.”

“You think I don’t know about child labor laws?” you hear Sol retort, clearly not intimidated, and the attitude in their voice has you biting back a laugh.

Wheeling the mop bucket out of the storage closet, you glance up to see Namjoon jut his chin toward the large front window, indicating Sol to take a seat on the ledge. “Feet off the floor, she’s tryna clean.”

Sol complies, plopping down in the window with their eyes glued to their phone as Namjoon disappears back toward the office to grab his things. You watch as Sol pulls their knees into their chest so their chunky black boots clear the tile, and you can’t help noticing that said boots are adorned with oversized silver bat-shaped buckles, reflecting the amber streetlight gleam that leaks through the window.

“I like your boots,” you say, more to yourself than Sol, half expecting them to be so engrossed in TikTok that they don’t even hear you.

But to your surprise, Sol looks up.

“Thanks,” they say, glancing at their feet. “I just got them. I’m in my post-hardcore era right now.”

The statement is delivered without a trace of irony, and you do your best to hold in another amused giggle as you respond. “Wow, you are… so much cooler than I was when I was your age.”

Sol seems to consider this for a moment, then shrugs. “I mean, you didn’t have the internet back then, right?”

The question hits you like a train, and you have to pause and press a hand over your heart at the impact. “Okay, ouch, I’m not that old.” They grimace apologetically, and you lean up against the mop handle in thought. “But the internet definitely wasn’t like it is now. The only social media that really existed was Myspace, and my parents wouldn’t let me make one. I mostly just used the internet to, like, play RuneScape.”

“Oh shit,” Sol remarks, sounding remarkably like Namjoon in the process. “You played old school?!”

It’s like you can feel your bones crumbling to dust inside your body, and you wince as you resume dragging the mop over the tile. “Hey, back then it was the only kind of RuneScape we had. But yes, you can consider me a… founding father of that game.”

“That’s cool!” they exclaim, sounding so genuine it makes your head spin. When did RuneScape become cool again? “My friends and I play old school all the time. It’s the best, for real.”

You shake your head in disbelief as you continue to mop, and a long pause settles between you, with Sol’s interest clearly returning to their phone.

Fuck, you think to yourself, what else do kids even talk about? Marvel movies? It’s like your mind has gone totally blank, unable to conjure up a single topic of conversation, and you practically huff out an audible sigh of relief when their voice breaks the silence again.

“I think my dad has been happier since you started working here.”

The mop nearly slips out of your hands entirely, and you glance up, eyes wide. “I— really?”

Sol nods, playing absentmindedly with the strings of their black hoodie, then bringing the end of one up to their mouth to gently chew on. “It’s a theory I have. A game theory. I plan to ask additional follow-up questions tonight.”

At this, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m sure your investigation will be very thorough.”

There’s a flash of a dimple in Sol’s cheek, like the mirror image of their dad. “I can tell you what he says, if you want.”

You wonder how telling your own smile is. “I mean… I can’t say I’m not curious.” You’re distantly aware of the sound of the office door closing, chased by Joon whistling to himself, and you lower your voice conspiratorially as you drop the mop back into the bucket. “I look forward to hearing what you find out.”

Monday morning, when you wake up to the omnipresent smize of Nick Jonas, you can’t help smiling back. 

You made it through your first week of work, and it wasn’t even that torturous. And best of all, Namjoon reminded you the night before that Indigo is closed on Mondays, which gives you an entire day to spend as you please. A real day off, which was truly unheard of at your last job, where you’d spend your non-scheduled days still anticipating an incoming emergency text asking you to cover a shift last-minute. More often than not, you’d end up working after all.

“But not today,” you announce to Nick.

A grand plan has already started to form in your head, one that involves a party size bag of Hot Cheetos and all eight episodes of The Fabulous, and yet. There’s a lingering urge at the back of your brain that you can’t quite ignore. With all the day-off energy you can muster, you drag yourself out of bed and tug on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, then shuffle into the bathroom to at least make yourself halfway decent.

You’re just going for a quick walk around the block to get some fresh air, you tell yourself. That’s all. Certainly no other reason.

It’s only a few minutes after you step out your front door that a fluffy white blur nearly collides with your shins, and when you stoop down to lift Moni into your arms, you once again can’t keep the smile off your face. Huh, who could’ve seen this coming?

But when you glance up, there’s no hot buff man jogging up the sidewalk after his dog. In fact, you realize as you look back at the ball of fluff in your arms, he isn’t wearing a leash or harness at all, just another cute sweater.

“Are you even supposed to be out here?” you ask Moni. His only answer is to drag his tongue up the side of your face.

You shift him a little in your arms so you can fumble for the tag attached to his collar, and thankfully, there’s an address listed. It takes you a second to get your bearings in the neighborhood, having not lived here for close to a decade, but it eventually comes back to you where the listed street is, and you start to walk. Moni is already blinking sleepily in your arms, clearly enjoying his preferred mode of transportation.

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as you approach the house in question— even if you hadn’t had Moni’s tag to guide you, finding his home would’ve been easy enough as soon as you passed this street, because you can hear old school hip-hop bumping through a speaker despite still being several houses down the block. You suppose Namjoon can get away with it during the day, when all the neighborhood kids are still in school.

As you make your way up the driveway, you realize the music is actually coming from behind the house, and when you follow the path that leads around back, you spot the culprit: a simple wooden-slat fence surrounds the yard, and the gate has been left wide open.

Before you can even make it over the threshold, a familiar voice reaches your ears, sounding much closer than the music. “Ah, shit.”

Namjoon comes barreling through the open gate so fast he practically runs you over, and Moni yaps, like he’s annoyed at being jostled as you quickly try to stumble out of his owner’s path.

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to take in how shock looks on Namjoon’s features without giggling a little. Today is certainly not that day. It’s just so endearing, the way his eyes widen and his mouth pulls into a perfect o-shape.

“Hi,” you breathe out around your laughter, trying to ignore the heat that flushes into your face when his dimples appear in return. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

With a wave of his hand and several profuse thank yous, you follow Namjoon back through the gate, and wait until he firmly shuts it behind you before letting Moni down to trot off across the yard. It’s only now that you take Namjoon in properly: he’s in a gray hoodie under a pair of denim overalls, both of which are splattered artfully with paint in a variety of colors.

“I was just in my studio,” he explains, tipping his head toward the small shed in the yard, which you quickly realize is also the source of the music that led you here. “Doin’ some art. Do you, uh… wanna see?”

“Yeah, okay,” you answer with a nod.

“Fair warning, I’m really bad at it,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads you in the open studio door, raising his voice to be heard over the music. He reaches for his phone, propped up in the windowsill, to turn the volume down a few notches.

There’s an easel up against the far wall holding what must be his current project, a half-finished scene that you realize upon closer inspection is thousands of tiny dots of color, painstakingly blotted onto the canvas to form a mountain landscape at a distance. A few more pieces that he’s already completed have been leaned up against another wall to dry, one featuring an abstract array of featherlight brushstrokes, and another where the paint’s been globbed on in thick layers.

Namjoon is talking a mile a minute as you inspect the canvases. “I thought maybe I’d do cyanotypes today, but it’s not sunny enough, and I’ve made that mistake before. I’m really into texture right now, so I’m trying out some different techniques with paint. I want to get better at pointillism, but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it would be. ‘Cause it’s just dots, right? But you have to be able to see the forest for the trees, too.”

“These are amazing,” you finally manage to murmur, and to your surprise, the compliment actually renders him silent. When you turn back over your shoulder to look at him, he’s glancing down, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks. But I just do it for fun. ‘Cause I love art.”

“I can tell,” you say, and when he looks up, you offer him a smile you hope reads as encouraging. “Did you make the art at work, too?”

He nods, still sheepish, and that answer also surprises you. You recall thinking on your first day that the paintings hung on the walls looked handmade, but it never crossed your mind that they might have been made by Namjoon’s hands. Maybe because you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing him drop and break things, you haven’t ever considered him as also capable of… creation.

And yet, here he is. Proving you wrong.

“Sorry,” Namjoon’s voice makes you refocus on him, and your brow furrows in confusion at the unexpected apology. “This is literally your one day away from me and here I am, taking up your time. Thanks again for bringing Moni back.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “Don’t have much going on today, honestly. I never really know what to do with myself when I’m not working. Which I’m aware is very sad.”

“Well, uh,” Namjoon starts, and when he takes a single step closer, you swear you feel something flutter in your stomach— or maybe lower. “Sol’s got a half-day today, since it’s the last day before break, so I’m picking them up in a bit. And we were gonna go on a hike, probably take Moni too. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

Your eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh. That sounds great. I mean, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up just so. “Nah. I actually think Sol really likes you. At least, they wouldn’t stop asking questions about you at dinner last night.”

“Is that right?” You do your best to keep your expression neutral.

Namjoon drives far enough north that there’s actually snow on the ground when you climb out of his front seat. You shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you follow him across the gravel parking lot towards the trailhead, a few paces behind Sol and Moni.

Sol shoots an expression of pure mischief at you over their shoulder, and then immediately starts to sprint up the marked path through the woods, Moni easily keeping up.

“Bye, nerds!” you hear them call before they disappear between the trees.

“Stay on the trail!” Namjoon shouts back, sounding as dad-like as you’ve ever heard him, and you can’t help but laugh. The two of you quicken your steps slightly to not fall too far behind, tracking the set of boot and paw-prints they’ve left to mark their trail.

For a moment, it’s silent between you, save the crunching of snow underfoot. It’s nice, being out in nature like this, time spent with Namjoon where you aren’t suffering through Christmas music and ungrateful customers. Where you can just… breathe. It makes you feel a little less sorry for yourself, a little less fixated on your own miserable life.

You glance over at him as that strange seasonal melancholy starts to settle into your bones again. “Are the holidays… better? With a kid?”

Namjoon makes a face, like he’s surprised by the question. “I mean, they’re definitely different. Then again, it’s been a long time since I did the holidays without a kid— not since I was a kid myself. What do you mean by better?”

Self-consciousness washes over you, your gaze drifting down to the path beneath your feet. “I don’t know, there’s just… I can’t shake this weird feeling now that I’m back home. This time of year used to be so exciting for me when I was Sol’s age. Everything felt special. Magical. But now I’m back here, and nothing’s really changed, except me. But I just keep feeling like the magic is gone. It’s… sad.”

He nods, taking a moment before he responds, and he’s chuckling softly to himself when he finally does. “You know, it’s kinda funny. When Sol was younger I actually felt a lot of stress this time of year. I couldn’t really enjoy it, because I was too busy trying to make sure that they had the best holiday I could possibly give them. That they didn’t feel like they were getting any less, since, you know. Their mom and I aren’t together. It’s funny that you bring up the magic, because I put a lot of pressure on myself to make that magic happen. But now that they’re a little older, I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” you prompt.

A dimple deepens as he hesitates. “It’s gonna sound corny. But really, I realized that the holidays aren’t about the gifts, or the decorations, or every little thing going perfect. You can make yourself sick over that shit, and I did, but kids don’t really care about it.” He pauses, and for a second you think that might be it, but then he keeps going, eyes fixed on the towering pine trees ahead of you.

“The year I opened Indigo, I had sank so much fucking money into it that I was broke. Broke broke. I couldn’t afford a single gift, a tree, not even a turkey. Sol and I sat on the floor of my shitty apartment and ate Chapagetti and watched Friends. And I felt like the biggest fucking failure imaginable. And then you know what happened?”

“What?”

“Sol turned to me, and they said, ‘This is the best Christmas ever, because we get to hang out, just the two of us.’” He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to ward off tears, and his voice comes back slightly less steady than before. “I still don’t know if they said that because they really meant it, or if they could just tell that I needed to hear it. But either way, I thought to myself: how fucking lucky am I, to have such a great kid? Like what did I ever do to deserve them? I still feel that way.”

Namjoon shrugs, as if to shake off the emotion. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not helpful to you, but. I just see it differently now. It’s not about the what, or the how. It’s about the who. Spending this time of year with the people you care about, and making sure they know you do. That’s the real magic.”

You realize the trail has carried you up the sloping hillside, and is now flattening out at the edge of a clearing, where you can see Moni chasing Sol through the snow, can hear their high-pitched laughter ringing out in the wide-open air.

When you turn back to Namjoon, he’s already looking at you.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel the magic right now. I didn’t either, for a long time. But it does come back, I believe that. It’ll come back for you, too.”

You blink up at him, overwhelmed by his willingness to be so honest, and by the wisdom of his words. “I— thank you,” you finally manage to say.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, just glances up to where Sol and Moni are still playing, and your gaze follows his out over the snow-covered field. Sol is dusting off a sizable stick, and they call out for Moni to fetch before launching it into a dramatic arc, high up in the air.

Moni watches it go, entirely disinterested, then settles onto his haunches in the snow with a yawn.

“You’re so bad at being a dog!” Sol shouts, and that’s enough to make you and Namjoon both dissolve into laughter. They look up at the sound, hands-on-hips, before yelling again, this time in your direction. “My dad said he has a crush on you!”

Your jaw drops open, and Namjoon’s eyes are wide as you’ve ever seen them when you look up at him.

“Damn, dude, you said you were gonna be chill about it!” he exclaims, and you press a hand to your mouth as a fresh wave of giggles overtakes you. Given how long Namjoon’s legs are, it only takes him a few strides to catch up to Sol. You stay a tentative distance behind him, but still close enough to be able to make out their conversation.

“Uncle Hobi says you need to be bolder with women,” Sol chides, matter-of-fact.

“Uncle Hobi says a lot of shit,” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“He painted my nails,” Sol raises their voice, clearly talking more to you than to their dad, and holds up a hand for you to see, waggling their fingers proudly.

“They look great,” you call out in response.

Namjoon turns back to you as you step in closer, then juts his chin to a bench at the other side of the clearing. “Sit with me for a sec?”

With a nod, you follow him over, and he wipes the metal surface free of snow with his sleeve before gesturing for you to have a seat. For a moment, the two of you sit silently and watch Sol, who is already busying themself with building a snowperson while Moni slow-blinks encouragingly from a distance.

Namjoon’s words chase a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna be real with you, despite the fact that my child just stole my thunder. I like you a lot.”

Your heart swells in your chest, threatening to burst. “I-I like you too,” you stammer back immediately. “Have definitely been harboring my own crush… basically since I started working at Indigo.”

When you turn to look at him, it surprises you a little that he isn’t smiling. You can see a muscle working in his jaw, like he’s nervous.

“That’s the thing,” he finally relents. “Work. I don’t— I hadn’t really planned to tell you how I was feeling, or act on it. Because I’m your boss, and that means, you know. There’s a power dynamic there. And it would be… unethical of me to blur the lines like that, by getting involved with my employee. I wanted you to come out with us today because it was a chance for you and I to be equals, outside of work, but it’s not like that dynamic just goes away, you know? And I feel a little guilty about it now. Because I really like being around you so much, but I just. We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Not while you’re working for me.”

You stare down at the snow under your boots as you take in his words, and you can’t help it. Try as you might to sit there and take his worries seriously, laughter flutters out of you before you can hold it in.

“What?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

“I really, really appreciate that you gave it so much thought,” you say, willing your voice to stay even. “I mean it.”

“It’s weighed really heavy on me, if I’m honest,” he says solemnly, and you glance over to see him staring into the middle distance, like he’s deep in contemplation.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to where his hand rests on the bench between you and covering it with your own.

“Namjoon?” you ask softly, and it seems to snap him out of his trance enough to look back at you.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” you preface. “But if I have to choose between you and my stupid seasonal coffee shop job?” The smile starts to flicker over your face again. “Then I quit. I quit right now.”

“Oh thank god,” Namjoon breathes, and you can only make a soft noise of surprise when all at once, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. You need a split second for the shock to wear off, and then you’re moving your mouth against his, one hand fisting tight in the fabric of his jacket. His lips are full and warm, and it feels like far too soon that he’s pulling back again, his cheeks flushed with color.

“Will you, uh—” he pauses, like he’s remembering how to form a sentence. “Will you still work tomorrow though? Jimin’s back after Christmas, but I really don’t think I can survive a shift on my own.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still a little breathless from his kiss. “Yeah, I think you’d burn the place down.”

Unable to deny the claim, he laughs brightly as you untangle from each other, then gets to his feet before offering a hand to help you up. “We should head out, it’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s true: across the wide clearing you can already see the sun threatening to sink back down between the trees, casting a golden-pink light that gleams off the snow and paints the world in warmth.

Sol leads the way back through the woods to the car, tugging Moni along by their leash, while you and Namjoon bring up the rear. You glance over at him a few times to catch him staring, and you scrape your teeth across your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile off your face, unable to stop yourself from mentally replaying the moment when he kissed you, over and over.

Just as you step under the shadow of a large tree, snow-covered branches stretching up toward the clear sky above you, Namjoon stops in the path. It’s so abrupt that you continue a few more paces before you even realize, and then you stop, too, glancing back towards him.

“Hey Sol,” Namjoon calls. “Think you and Moni can make it all the way back to the car in ten seconds?”

“I know what you’re doing,” comes Sol’s cheeky reply, but when Namjoon starts counting backwards from ten, you can hear the crunch of their boots taking off down the path.

“Eight, seven, six…” You watch as Namjoon cranes his neck until he deems Sol far enough out of sight, taking a step toward you as his counting trails off, and you find yourself pulled into him like a magnet. “Come here,” he murmurs, and then his hands are slipping up your waist and guiding you backwards until your back hits the trunk of the tree.

In true Namjoon fashion, he uses way more strength than is necessary for the task, and though your winter jacket cushions you from the impact, you’re smacked against the bark so hard that it knocks a dusting of snow off the branches above you, covering you both in flakes that stick to your hair and eyelashes. The sudden rush of cold makes you gasp into Namjoon’s mouth, but then he’s rolling his tongue over yours and you can’t think about anything else. A heavy pulse has started to thud between your legs at the heat of his breath in your mouth, the way his hips have you pinned to the tree, his body big enough to cover yours entirely.

“Joon,” you find the air to breathe as his lips trail hungrily down the slope of your neck. You rake a hand through his hair, white-blonde strands studded with snow, to try and pull his attention back, despite very much not wanting him to stop. “Joon, we should go. Before someone steals your kid.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs against your skin, and then his mouth is on yours again for one more kiss, like he can’t get enough. “Okay,” he finally grunts as he pulls away, sounding as begrudgingly responsible as you feel. Your head is still spinning; you want nothing more than to stay here and let him kiss you dizzy.

“Let’s go.”

He takes a step back so you can right yourself, reaching out to dust some snow off your jacket, and then the two of you resume walking up the path, sharing a breathless laugh like confidantes. You assume it’s just his standard clumsiness when Namjoon’s hand knocks into yours, but then his fingers are twining through yours purposefully, until you’re pressed palm to palm.

The rush of heat that blooms in your chest at his touch keeps you warm the rest of the way to the car.

Your last shift at Indigo somehow manages to feel exactly like every shift that’s come before it and completely new at the same time.

The work is the same, the steady stream of customers unchanged, the Christmas music still an aggravating soundtrack. But you no longer feel like you have to ignore the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when Namjoon asks you a question, or meets your gaze across the shop.

The only urges you have to suppress are indecent ones, made worse by Namjoon seemingly taking advantage of every opportunity to touch you: hip-checking you when you’re both standing at the front counter, pressing a hand to the small of your back whenever he has to squeeze behind you, leaning in a little closer than necessary to be heard over the noise of the milk steamer. It’s enough to make your breath hitch each time, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same relief at not having to hold back anymore.

Towards the end of the night, it surprises you when the typically consistent flow of customers starts to slow down, until it seems to have ceased entirely. You still have two hours to go, but you find yourself staring at the walls, every table empty, having done all the side work you can think of to distract yourself from boredom.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking shut makes you glance up, only to see Namjoon flipping the open sign over.

“What are you doing?” you ask, blinking dumbfounded, and he looks over his shoulder at you with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas Eve Eve, and I’m the owner, so. We’re closing early. Effective immediately.” The decree makes you laugh a little, and his dimples wink back. “Let’s finish cleaning, I wanna show you something.”

In record time, you find yourself standing outside the front door of Indigo as Namjoon locks up, only tonight your hands are kept warm by the hot chocolates he’d made for the two of you as you closed. He takes his cup back once his hands are free, and you try a tentative sip from yours, now cool enough to drink without burning your mouth. Given what you witnessed of his barista abilities on your first day, you brace yourself for the worst, but your eyes widen in pleasant surprise when the liquid hits your tongue.

“Being a dad means getting really good at a few specific things,” he says by way of explanation as he unlocks his car doors, and you smile as you slip into the passenger seat.

It occurs to you as Namjoon starts to drive that you don’t actually know where he’s taking you, but when you open your mouth to ask at the next red light, he leans over you to fumble open the glovebox and you lose your train of thought. He fishes inside for a few seconds before retrieving a CD case, then makes quick work of prying it open and sliding the disc into the slot on the dash. You attempt to hide your giggle behind the rim of your cup.

“No wonder you like ‘90s music so much. You’re still living there,” you say, nodding to his antiquated stereo, and he smirks as he turns up the volume. 

“This is A Tribe Called Quest,” he remarks, quirking an eyebrow when he looks back at you. “You better show some respect.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease in response, and you don’t miss the color that flushes his cheeks.

The light turns green and he accelerates through the intersection, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching across the center console to grip playfully at your leg, a few inches above your knee. You can see his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, like he’s considering saying something, but when he finally opens his mouth, it’s just to rap along to the music.

It’s only a few songs later that he’s turning off the main road and following a barely-lit gravel path up to a large grassy parking lot, where he pulls into a space and kills the engine. You squint through the windshield, tucking your now-empty drink into the cupholder, but you can’t make out much except dusk and some vague lights over a hill in the distance.

“Was this crush thing just a ploy to murder me?” you quip, and Namjoon looks a little nervous when you glance over, like he took the question to heart. “I’m kidding,” you clarify quickly.

His voice comes out surprisingly soft. “This is one of my favorite things to do during the holidays. Thought it might help with, you know. The magic.”

Something cracks open inside you as you look back at him. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Ah,” he says, as if to dismiss the compliment. “You haven’t seen it yet. Maybe you’ll hate it. Come on.”

The two of you climb out of his car to start your trek to whatever he has in store, heading in the direction of the lights, and Namjoon’s hand slips into yours, like it’s already second nature. Easy and sweet. You grip tight to him, the night air colder now than it was when you left work, but then you finally crest over the hill, and the temperature is suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

It takes you a moment to even understand what you’re looking at. The place is clearly some kind of arboretum, as the path ahead of you snakes through a perfectly manicured garden of various plants, but the only thing you can focus on are the lights. Every tree, bush, shrub, and other kind of greenery that lines the walkway has been intricately strung up with lights, each one boasting a different hue. The end result is nothing short of dazzling— a veritable rainbow of light and life and color, glittering diamond-bright against the deep-set night around you.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. “This is beautiful.”

There’s a dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth when you look up at him. “Thought you might like it.”

“I can’t believe I never knew this was here,” you remark, your eyes wide and blinking as you try to take it all in.

“Hey,” he answers with a shrug. “Maybe your hometown still has a few good surprises left in it.” You exhale a laugh as you lean into his side and he squeezes your joined hands; you can’t help feeling like you’ve already found the greatest surprise of them all.

After an hour spent wandering through the displays, each one more breathtaking than the last, Namjoon diverts you toward a small food stand. He comes away from the counter with a paper carton filled to the brim with long ropes of twisted, fried dough, warm enough to release steam into the air when you tear one apart to share, and dusted with cinnamon sugar that sticks to your fingertips.

The two of you take a few steps back down the path until you’re under an archway of glowing golden lights, then eventually come to a standstill, too hungry to do anything except devour your food.

Namjoon speaks first, mid-chew. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?” you answer as you reach for another piece.

He swallows, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth before he continues. “At your interview, you said your life fell apart. What happened?”

“Oh.” You smirk as you rip the braided dough in two, then in two again, before popping it into your mouth. “It seems a little silly now, but. I got fired from that last job, like I told you. And the same day, my roommate pretty much kicked me out of the apartment, because he wanted his boyfriend to move in. He was also my best friend, so. It stung a little. A lot. Moving back in with your parents at this age is humbling, to say the least. Feels a lot like starting over.”

Namjoon hums, like he understands. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Eh,” you respond noncommittally. “I should probably be happy for him. The timing just… wasn’t amazing.”

“You know,” he murmurs, thoughtful. “I thought my life was over when my ex and I got pregnant. Not even eighteen and about to be a dad. I really felt like… I don’t know, like that was it for me.” You nod slowly, unable to even fathom what that must’ve been like.

“But, here I am. Still alive.” Namjoon flashes you a grin, and you find yourself smiling back. “Still figuring it out. I actually feel like I’ve learned a lot from watching Sol grow up. They’re like—” He shakes his head, as if at a momentary loss for words. “They’re like a different person every month, I swear. What they’re into, how they dress. Who they wanna be. It makes me feel, I don’t know. Like it’s okay. Like I can change too.” He shrugs. “That’s the thing about life. It’s long. And even when you feel like it’s ended… it keeps going anyway.”

His words wash over you, and you’re so in awe that you can’t help but laugh.

“Ah, sorry.” He grimaces, suddenly self-conscious. “I know that was corny.”

“No, no,” you interject, trying to keep your composure. “I just think you are like, literally the wisest person I’ve ever met.”

The lights glimmering overhead aren’t enough to hide the way Namjoon blushes at the compliment, and then he pauses, as if recalling something. “Didn’t I nearly run the blender with the lid off on your first day?”

You double-over at the memory, and he’s laughing now, too. “Okay, okay. Fair point.” 

The thought keeps circling around in your brain as you dust cinnamon sugar from each other’s jackets and continue your way around the rest of the gardens, occasionally pausing to trade sticky-sweet kisses in the twinkling glow: you don’t want the night to end. You keep glancing over at Namjoon, wondering if he’s feeling the same way as he drives you back into town, the heat in his car on full blast, the CD player still underscoring your conversation.

“So, what do your Christmas plans look like?” he asks, eyes flitting briefly from the road to meet your gaze.

You fiddle with a button on your coat, wishing you had a less depressing answer. “I was just gonna spend it by myself. My parents already had a vacation in Hawaii planned, so I’m gonna do what I always do: hole up with booze and snacks and wait for it all to be over.”

He chuckles, tapping his fingertips absentmindedly against the steering wheel. “Well, I have about a hundred presents to wrap tomorrow night while Sol’s at their mom’s. Why don’t you come over and help? I can even provide the booze.” There’s a pause, and his voice comes back softer before you can respond. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up at his sincerity, the way he gently cares for you, has since day one. “Yeah, okay. I mean, you had me at free alcohol.”

Just like that, Namjoon is already turning back into the Indigo parking lot, where your car sits waiting for you. The two of you shrug off your seatbelts once he’s pulled into a space and parked, and he reaches to turn down the music before shifting in his seat to get a better look at you.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “You are officially no longer my employee.”

“And you are no longer my boss,” you answer back, and a thrill buzzes in your chest at the statement.

“Which means,” he continues, doing his best to lean over the center console, “I can do this.” He barely finishes getting the words out before his mouth is on yours, your eyes fluttering closed, his kisses far less chaste than the ones you shared earlier. They’re open-mouthed and urgent this time, with Namjoon slipping his tongue into the heat of your mouth like he’s been waiting all night for it.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur between kisses, and then he dips his head lower, until his lips find the join of your neck and shoulder.

“And this,” he purrs before kissing you just as hungrily there, tongue-first. You can’t hold back the soft noise his mouth pulls out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he sucks gently over the same spot, with just enough pressure to make you writhe in your seat. A shiver rolls up your spine when he hums against your skin, clearly pleased at your reaction.

“And, uh…” You slowly blink your eyes open when you feel the warmth of his breath dissipate, and he’s looking at you with his brow furrowed, as if attempting some difficult mental math. “Actually—” He reaches down for the lever to adjust his seat, and it drops all the way back with a graceless thud that makes a laugh flutter out of you. “Maybe you could take your jacket off and come over here?”

You don’t need him to ask you twice, and you’re moving quickly as you peel out of the thick material and scramble across the console to straddle him. You both groan a little when you duck down to press your mouth to his again, all of this suddenly feeling much more real now that you’re basically horizontal. His hands alight on your hips, tentative, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, and you smile against his lips.

“Touch me, Joon,” you instruct, and he does as he’s told.

His hands are warm as he slips them beneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your skin until he reaches the band of your bra. When you hum encouragingly into his mouth, he keeps going, pushing the fabric up your chest so your tits spill free from their confinement. He cups one in each hand, and though you might’ve expected him to be clumsy or rough, given everything you’ve seen of him thus far, you’re surprised to instead find that he’s gentle, thumbs circling your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to tighten them into stiff peaks.

Unable to bite back your whimper at the heat that blossoms through you at his touch, at how much more of him you need, you pull away just enough to break your kiss, glancing up through the back window of his car to confirm the parking lot is still empty.

Namjoon groans low in his throat when you reach down to tug up the hem of your shirt, shifting a little on top of him to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate, thumb still working at one nipple while he takes the other into his mouth, and your sigh of relief comes edged with a soft moan when he swirls his tongue over the bud of your breast.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Feels so fucking good.”

He pulls off with a wet pop to switch sides, and the slick heat of his mouth sends bolt after bolt of arousal through you until there’s a dull ache of need thudding between your legs. As you roll your hips in desperate search of friction, you can feel him beneath you, straining hard against the fabric of his jeans.

Namjoon pulls his mouth off your breast, letting out a hoarse laugh when you shift to drop your forehead against his collarbone with a groan, horny enough to practically be delirious. “I hate that I’m even saying this,” he rasps, “but I really can’t have sex in a car. I’m too—”

“Big?” you offer, and there’s a smile on his lips as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I was going to say old.”

You can’t help giggling as you lean up to find his mouth with yours again. Namjoon kisses you a little while longer, lazily, his hands still kneading gently at your tits, until he finally tips his head back, heaving a sigh up to the roof of his car. “Okay, okay. You should go.” His tone is reluctant, like it’s the last thing he wants. “It’s late. And my jeans fucking hurt.”

There’s a self-satisfied smirk toying at your mouth as you sit up, tugging your bra and shirt back into place and not missing the bulge in Namjoon’s pants where your hips meet his. “I will take the blame for that one.”

He folds his hands behind his head, biceps and dimples on full display. “Damn straight.”

You lean down for one more kiss, letting it linger before you make your way back over the center console to retrieve your jacket. “Have a good night, Joon,” you murmur as you reach for the door handle, and when you glance back, his eyes are fixed on you, still heavy-lidded with lust.

“Get home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I have booze, as promised.” Namjoon’s voice echoes in from the kitchen as you kick off your boots and hang your coat up at his front door come Christmas Eve. The aroma hits your nose as your socked feet pad down the hall to follow him: the spice of cinnamon and clove, paired with a hint of citrus. It smells like the holidays, like home.

“Mulled wine?” you wager a guess, and he nods, turning away from the stove to retrieve two mugs from a cabinet.

“I halved the recipe, since it’s just us,” he explains, mouth pulling down at the corners as he starts to ladle out servings from the pot full of deep red liquid. “Still made a lot, though.”

Your eyes drift across the kitchen until they land on the two empty bottles of red sitting next to the sink, and that makes you pause for a moment to consider. “So the original recipe called for four bottles?”

Namjoon’s brow is furrowed when he glances up, and then he follows your gaze, and a look of delayed understanding washes over him. “Oh, fuck.”

Your elbows dig into the kitchen island as you press your hands to your mouth, as if to physically hold in your laughter. “Did you… halve everything in the recipe except the wine?”

His eyes drop closed as he nods, his answer a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yes, I did.”

You can’t help yourself: all at once, you’re circling around to join Namjoon behind the stove, so you can take his face in your hands and pull his mouth down to yours. He makes a soft noise of surprise, but then his lips fall into rhythm, kissing you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Even through the fabric of your shirt, his large hands are warm when they slide over the small of your back, and then they keep going, until you finally break the kiss with another laugh when he reaches his final target and outright grabs your ass.

“Not the reaction I anticipated,” Namjoon admits, paired with a teasing squeeze. “But I’ll take it.”

You look up at him through your lashes, pressing your palms flat to the firm plane of his chest. “A very wise friend of mine once told me that the holidays aren’t about every little thing going perfect. I thought maybe you needed a reminder.”

His dimples deepen as his eyes search yours, and his voice is lower in his throat when he responds. “I think that fool was just sayin’ words because a pretty girl asked him a question.”

Heat flushes your face as you smile back. “Well, they were very good words.” You drop your gaze to the pot on the stove. “Come on, I bet we can salvage this.”

Determined to save Christmas, you throw in another handful of spices, chased with a few glugs from a bottle of orange juice Namjoon heroically digs out of the back of the fridge. After a few more minutes of simmering, you take a tentative sip of the mixture to find it perfectly adequate.

“I guess we just have to drink twice as much now,” Namjoon quips, filling up two fresh mugs with the remedied wine. You raise an eyebrow back at him, as if to accept the challenge, while you tap your drinks together in a cheers.

By the time you realize that a double-batch of mulled wine and gift-wrapping don’t exactly go together, it’s already too late. The booze makes Namjoon’s big hands go even clumsier, the few presents he attempts an absolute disaster, and you can’t stop laughing long enough to be of any help. At one point he reaches up to cup your jaw for a kiss, but completely misjudges the distance, deftly knocking into his half-drunk mug and spilling the contents all over a tube of wrapping paper and the crotch of your jeans.

You dissolve into giggles until you can scarcely breathe, scooting your chair a few inches back from the table as he jumps up to grab something to soak up the mess. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you manage to gasp when he returns, immediately focused on cleaning you up first. You wave him away as you get to your feet. “Seriously, it’s not that bad, it’s mostly the table.”

“Jesus,” Namjoon groans as he drops the kitchen towels in his hands onto the wooden surface, doing his best to soak up the puddle, though there’s no saving the ruined gift-wrap.

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur as he turns back, once again examining the extent of the damage done to your clothes. A shiver rolls through you as his thumb brushes over the waistband of your jeans, and he grimaces a little.

“This is probably gonna stain.”

“I mean…” Your pulse starts to quicken as his fingertips linger where they are, and Namjoon’s gaze flits up to meet yours when you speak, clearly hearing a shift in your tone of voice. “I could just… take them off.”

A smile teases at the corner of your mouth when his eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then seems to self-correct. “I mean, uh. If-if that’s something you would feel comfortable doing.”

You’re already reaching to undo the button, and then Namjoon takes over to tug open the zipper and push the fabric down your legs, and your nipples tighten beneath your bra at the reminder of how gentle his large hands can be. His lips find yours again and you don’t hesitate to lick into his mouth, jostling slightly as you try to make out with him and kick your pants the rest of the way off at the same time. It’s graceless, but you manage to make it work, and then he pulls away from you to glance back down.

“It looks like a little got on your shirt, too.”

He’s right, you realize: there are faint purple marks splattered just above the hem of your long-sleeve, and you smirk as you look up at him.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you did this on purpose,” you tease, and then in one swift move you pull your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the kitchen floor next to your discarded jeans.

Namjoon’s hands are instantly on your bare skin, trailing heat as they trace the curve from your hip to your waist, and your breath hitches as he ducks down to brush his lips over your collarbone. The low tone of his voice reverberates through you when he speaks against your skin. “I like to think I could’ve gotten you naked tonight even without being an accident-prone idiot.”

You run a hand along the line of his jaw, tipping his head up to seek a kiss, before leaning back to murmur, “I guess we’ll never know.”

He kisses you again, and the two of you stumble across the threshold into the living room, pausing along the way to peel off his sweater and then his jeans, laughing into each other’s mouths, just drunk enough to lack any semblance of coordination you might have otherwise had.

When you drop down to lay back on his sofa, you’re both stripped to your underwear, and you can feel the thick bulge of him, pressing firm-heavy heat into your thigh as he settles his hips between your spread legs.

Namjoon’s eyes roam over your body beneath him, and then he’s tugging the lace of your panties to the side to slip a finger into your drenched center, beckoning it up to rub you just right. Your mouth drops open as he traces slow circles against your front wall, and when he adds a second digit, you can’t help but whimper softly at the stretch. It thrums through you like your lingering red wine buzz, hot and thick and good enough to get lost in, your head dropping back on the couch cushions as your hips rock up into his touch.

“Goddamn,” Namjoon groans, and your eyes flutter open again to take him in, his gaze heavy-lidded as he watches his fingers disappear up into you, coaxing slick sounds out with each pump of his hand. “I had a whole plan,” he rasps. “To take my time. But, fuck, I really want to fuck you.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you breathe, not sure how much longer you could stand the torturous feeling of his clothed cock grinding into your thigh, so close to where you want him. An ache throbs in your cunt, needy, plugged up with two fingers but still begging for more. “Just fuck me.”

Realization flashes over his face, and then he suddenly heaves a sigh, looking defeated. You have to bite back a noise at the loss as he withdraws his fingers. “I— there’s an obvious joke here, but. I don’t have any condoms. Or if I do, they’re definitely expired.”

It takes you a second to process the revelation, and then you reach up to pull him down to you, smiling when he hums surprise into your mouth at the unexpected response. Your lips linger on his, and then you tip your head to press a kiss to the slope of his neck, not quite able to maintain eye contact as you murmur, “I mean. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. So.”

“Yeah?” he replies, and your nose bumps against his shoulder as you nod. “Me too. Well, I-I’m clean, I mean. I’m not on the pill.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as you look up at him. “Right, no, I get it.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon huffs a laugh in return, his face flushing a little. “I talk a lot, when I’m nervous.”

“I just thought it was an all-the-time thing,” you admit, and the color in his cheeks deepens.

“I’m just always nervous around you.”

Your mouth seeks his out for a kiss sweeter than the last, slower for his shy honesty and the hummingbird thrum of your heartbeat behind your ribs. The heat of his breath ghosts over your lips when you tip back to answer, “You don’t have to be.”

“So, you’re okay?” he asks, almost reverent with his question. “If we—if I don’t—”

“Please,” you insist, and it’s all the encouragement he needs.

With remarkably little fumbling, he drags the lace of your panties down your legs, letting you kick them the rest of the way off while he moves up to unclasp your bra. You slip the straps off your shoulders and drop it over the edge of the couch, then watch as he shifts to strip out of his boxers, freeing his cock with enough force that it smacks against his abdomen with a hefty thud.

You swallow hard as you take him in: long and thick, flushed dark. Big, and fuck, you want all of him; you can feel how drenched you already are between your legs at the thought of all that cock filling you up.

When you tear your gaze away to meet his, Namjoon is staring at you just as hungrily, and he brings a hand to pump himself a few times, to coat his shaft in the wetness that’s started to drool from the head of his dick.

“Come here,” he grunts, his voice rough-edged, and you waste no time straddling yourself over his hips.

Given his considerable size, you figured it might take you a second to adjust, but you want him so bad, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is all white-hot pleasure. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself down on him, inch by overwhelming inch, until your ass is flush with thighs.

Namjoon’s head drops back against the couch as you slowly grind your hips into him, his hands gripping at your waist to guide the movement. You can’t help the soft sound that flutters out of you: he just looks so good like this, white-blonde hair swept off his forehead, beads of sweat trailing down his temples and glistening at his collarbones, his parted lips full and kiss-bitten.

“Baby,” he groans as you start to move a little more intentionally. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long. Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me,” you breathe, and you close a hand over one of his, guiding him down to your clit. 

Just like the night before in his car, his touch is so gentle when he begins to trace circles into the sensitive nub with his thumb. You can feel the slow-hum build of an orgasm in your core, drawn up by the steady rub of his hand, and you lean back to allow him better access, bracing yourself on his thighs as you rock along his length.

A moan rips through you as the new angle drags the head of his dick just right against your front wall, and it’s good enough to make your eyes roll back. Chasing the feeling, you shove your hips down harder, driving his cock into that spot over and over until your thighs have started to tremble.

“That’s it,” Namjoon grunts encouragingly, his voice husky. “Use me, baby. Look so good when you bounce on my cock like that.”

The words set every last one of your nerve endings alight, and you dig your nails into his skin as your spine arches from the pleasure. His thumb is still working steadily at your clit, and the heavy stretch of his cock has you so wet, you can feel arousal starting to leak down your thighs. Your pussy clings to him like a vice, a throbbing-tight heat, taking him to the hilt every time.

“Oh my god, Joon,” you groan, “I’m gonna come.”

His touch doesn’t let up, and you can feel yourself teetering right on the precipice of it, only able to manage little gasps as you drop yourself down onto his cock again and again and again, with enough force that there’s an audible sound of your skin slapping against his.

Your legs are outright shaking from the effort now, from how close you are, and then Namjoon ducks his head, using his free hand to guide your tit into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue laved across the tight bud of your nipple is just what you need to push you over the edge.

With a moan that’s more like a sob, you drop forward against Namjoon’s chest, sinking all the way down to bury him in your pulsing cunt as you come. He continues to rub you through the waves of your orgasm, breathing ragged in your ear while your pussy gushes around him, until you grab his wrist with a soft whimper of overstimulation, and he relents.

Too gone to get any words out, all you can do is take his face in your hands and kiss him. He rolls his tongue over yours, decadent, as his palms slip down to cup your ass. You groan a little into his mouth when he begins to shift you, your cunt still fluttering-sensitive at every little motion, but he manages to maneuver you onto your back while still keeping himself sheathed in you.

His hands move to your thighs, encouraging your legs to hook over his hips, and his mouth trails kisses down the valley between your breasts before he breathes against your skin, “Can I keep going?”

“Please,” you murmur, and it’s chased with a moan when he starts to rock his hips into you. You feel so full, so swollen from your climax that it’s like your walls were molded to take him, the crown of his cock stroking deep-deep over the place that lights you up inside, shooting sparks of pleasure all the way down to your toes.

Namjoon’s breath stutters on a laugh. “Shit, I’m already close.”

You tilt up to brush your lips against his, humming encouragingly into his mouth, and then he pulls back again, one dimple teasing at the corner of his smile. “God, I— wanna hear you say it.”

Somehow, you know exactly what he means. “Come in me, Joon,” you beg, fucked so good that you’re shameless for it, and you gasp when he bottoms out in you with his next thrust. “Fill me up. Fuck me full of your cum, baby, please.”

It’s like the words send him into overdrive, and he practically growls as he starts to fuck his cock into you forcefully, hard enough to make your tits bounce. Each snap of his hips punches a heady groan from your lungs, and you reach up to drag your nails across the skin of his back as he chases his own end.

“Gonna fucking— give it to you,” he hisses, rolling his hips one, two, three more times, and then you feel his cock twitching, shoved in as deep as you can take him. He heaves a final strangled groan as he comes, rope after rope of his release pumping into you to paint your walls, until you can feel it beginning to spill back down your thighs.

You kiss through the comedown, inhaling shaky breaths into each other’s mouths, your bodies still fitted together like puzzle pieces, sweat starting to cool in the places where skin is pressed to skin. Namjoon finally moves first, giving a grunt of effort as he rolls off the couch, and you throw an arm over your face while the world slowly settles into focus around you.

When he returns, it’s with a towel in hand, and you can’t help smiling as he cleans you up, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone in tandem.

His voice is soft, too, when he finally speaks. “Will you stay here tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your forearms to look at him, and a little glimmer of something lights up in your chest that you can’t ignore. The first spark of an ember, just enough to reignite a flame you’d long since believed to be entirely extinguished. But now he’s shown you: it doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to be alone.

“Of course. We still have presents to wrap,” you say simply, and he huffs a laugh as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Joon?” you murmur into the crook of his neck, unable to keep your voice entirely steady.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For the magic.”

[katerinaaqu]

The Death of Odysseus (Part 2)

Oh my! So you thought you cried with Part 1 (please take a look at that too pretty please! ^_^)? Then I am sorry but the continuation made ME bawl my eyes out while writing! So I would expect to cause something out of you guys too! Odysseus's journey to the Underworld begins in the whirlpool of emotions, goodbyes and hellos and Diomedes being his guide...

“We’re here, Odysseus…”

The king of Ithaca opened his eyes and saw the hall. Everyone was having fun, drinking and dancing, celebrating. Odysseus smiled as he perceived them all at the hall; among them he saw his son sitting at the throne, next to him his wife. His grandson, a proper young man already, was talking to the other youths; he was already too wise beyond his years, he would be a fine king in the place of his father. Like Telemachus. He considered for a second how his family would be sad to see him dead the day after; maybe they would cry over his head…maybe they would mourn him and bury him close to his beloved wife… He lifted those thoughts away. Now he could see them happy; having fun. It was exactly how he wanted to perceive them; his family united and happy. That was the final image he wanted to burn in his mind of them.

“Diomedes they…”

“They cannot see us” Diomedes confirmed, “They cannot sense our presence.”

Odysseus looked around…at the walls that bore the murals, at the floors and columns… His hands felt the stone and at the same time they didn’t. He remembered his mother for one second. He was a shadow now. He couldn’t feel with his human senses anymore. That realization or rather confirmation; partially torn his heart apart. It was that last torment he wanted to impose to himself. He walked about the hall. He took in all the details of it; every stone, every pebble he practically saw it being placed there with his own eyes (sometimes even placed them himself with his own hands). He remembered every crack, every sound, every smell… He knew they would always be burnt in his memories when he would pass the threshold of Hades’s door. He looked at Diomedes almost tearful (he would tear up if he could now).

“Please, Diomedes…I beg of you as a friend…and as a god…take care of them! Keep them safe…come and check on them once in a while…”

“I will” Diomedes confirmed, “Always”

Odysseus nodded. Yes, that was enough. He had nothing more to hope for but for the prosperity and happiness of his family.

“Let’s go then…”

He felt himself being lifted up in the sky, holding Diomedes’s hand. As he ascended he saw his beloved castle dressed in the dark blue of the night…showered in moonlight; his beloved land…his world…his everything. He remembered every rock, every tree…every single voice of the hills of people that were now either celebrating or sleeping at their homes. He knew all cattle and all sheep that were raised there. He remembered all the trees his father used to tend; the trees that he now tended for years and now he would leave them all to his son and grandson with the addition of a few more he planted with his own two hands to the ground. He was leaving them all behind again for his last adventure… He kissed his hand and extended it over his beloved lands. The last time he would distantly kiss his holy ground… His last goodbye…

“Goodbye, Ithaca…my beloved home…” he thought, “You will all be in my heart forever…”

He looked at godly Diomedes and nodded. Diomedes did not need to hear more. He softly took him with him…riding his golden chariot into the night.

*

The threshold of Hades was almost as he remembered with the minor difference of the setting. He was standing there at the platform filled with all the souls that were ready to cross to the other side. With Diomedes there he could find his rest before his funeral. Or perhaps his funeral had already taken place? It was hard to calculate how much time had passed as a shade. Maybe a few minutes had passed in mortal world while he was traveling…maybe it was an eternity. He didn’t know. He couldn’t tell. The realm was indeed crowded with all kinds of souls and spirits; old, young, men, women, people dressed in beautiful shrouds and others in no shrouds at all. They waited at the platform like unworldly travelers ready to embark for an important trip. He saw happy faces and sad faces; he saw shades of people waiting for their trip. All seemed to get surprised by the blinding light Diomedes was emitting.

“Make way!” Diomedes was commanding, “Make way. This man is a king! Beloved to Athena and the Immortals. Make way…”

Odysseus was following in silence. He was even hugging himself to the veil he had with him. Somehow he was feeling small and insignificant among all these dead souls waiting to get on the boat that would ferry them across. He was following Diomedes hardly daring to look up. A king…a man…what was the difference? They were all going to the same place… Once again he felt like tearing up, throat almost burning in a reminder of his mortal life, and yet his eyes didn’t burn; no tears were able to be produced by shadows… Diomedes helped Odysseus on the boat. He gave a golden piece to the hand of the Boatman.

“Ferry us across, oh Charon…” Diomedes whispered emphatically, “We bring this king to the Realm of Hades…”

Odysseus, opposing to his previous resolve not to feel fear or worry, he felt his heart clench and he couldn’t even cry anymore to woe himself. It was the same feeling when he was leaving for Troy; the unknown trip you wouldn’t know whether you would see your beloved land again…but now it was worse; Odysseus knew he would never see his land again…he would certainly never come back from this last journey. He was heading to the dark realm of Hades. There was no going back. He almost felt the urge to run out again; to go back. But he held himself. He knew there was no point.

“If I look back…I’m lost…” he thought

So he sat in the boat in silence, clenching his ethereal veils around him. He almost curled in a ball, occasionally rocking himself back and forth as if he were a baby and was trying to console himself; telling himself it would be alright. The boat was moving slowly to the misty river that would bring the dead to their resting place; the horizon was an endless mist; he could barely hear the Boatman’s oar as it pushed the misty dark water, softly and steadily steering the boat. Every step would bring him closer and closer to the realm of the dead…to the people he knew he would have to face sooner or later; the people that lost their lives directly or indirectly because of him. He only dared to steal a few glances to Diomedes who stood steadfast in his godly attire. How fragile and alone he felt! Even if Diomedes’s presence was giving him comfort.

“If I look back…I’m lost…”

So he fixated his glance to the wooden floors of the boat, only on occasion stealing glances around; there, curled up in his ethereal veils, on occasion rocking himself back and forth for comfort…

“This is it, then…” he thought again, “The last journey…it will be over soon…It will be…”

He didn’t feel the cold and yet why was he shaking? Why this weird freezing sensation was taking over him? If shadows couldn’t cry or feel the cold like mortals do…

“Endure, my heart…” he caught himself thinking like he did a million times in his torments, “Endure…you have endured worse…”

He smiled a sad smile to himself.

“Goodbye Ithaca…goodbye for now my sweet Telemachus, joy of my life… Goodbye for long till my beloved Perseptolis, conqueror of my soul…”

He drew a breath trying to calm himself. The uneasiness wouldn’t pass completely but it was getting bearable. It was the nostalgia he knew he would never get over.

“…And goodbye Odysseus of Ithaca…king of Cephallinians…father of sweet Telemachus, grandfather to Perseptolis…son of Laertes…grandson to Autolycus, spawn of Hermes… Goodbye Man of Many Wiles…Man of Many Turns…Much Enduring…Man of Experience… Goodbye Goodly and Equal to Gods… Goodbye Sacker of Cities… Goodbye Odysseus…”

He sighed for he could no longer cry.

“…Goodbye…Nobody…”

*

The boat came to a stop to the shores of the Underworld and Odysseus was once more assisted down by Diomedes. Odysseus looked at the familiar dark environment of the realm of the dead. He felt like lost once more despite the fact he had been there before. He remembered how he was flesh and blood among the shadows. Now he was a shadow himself. He almost felt as if his eyes have gained a different perspective; a different type of vision. Suddenly the Underworld seemed…bigger much more definitive. He realized why; it was because now he would never get out of there. He looked around almost like lost for one second.

“Odysseus…” Diomedes spoke again

Odysseus looked up.

“Forgive me, Diomedes…” he managed to whisper, “I don’t know what’s gotten into me…”

He knew he sounded like a child; like his beloved Perseptolis every time he entered his chambers after a nightmare…every time he asked of him to tell him the stories of his adventures to fall asleep… He almost felt his previous resolve evaporate again before the face of the upcoming people he was to meet; the Trojans, the suitors… Palamedes…Dolon…the list was too long. Diomedes only smiled sadly.

“I understand…do not apologize…” he whispered compassionately, “All mortals avoid the face of death…and the Name of the one with the Many Names…”

Odysseus forced a smile to his lips and nodded. Yes, there was no point in worrying. That was his natural fear and anxiety. He had to get over it. It would make no difference anyways now.

“You made it, old chap!”

They both turned around to see the lean form of the Messenger of Gods. Argophontes Hermes was leaning against a black rock, nonchalant as always, with his winged hat and sandals emitting holy light. His cape seemed to be having its own life. His eyes sparkled like coals mischievously almost like lanterns that were meant to lead the dead to their final resting place. Odysseus perceived his great-grandfather with a weak smile.

“Hermes…” he murmured, “You came”

“I always am here, old friend!” Hermes replied with a smirk, “Always keep an eye on you, remember?”

“Yes, how could I forget? You helped me…both in Aeaea…and Ogygia…how can I forget?”

“Old stories, old chap!” Hermes giggled, “Go ahead now. You have your most important trip before you!”

Odysseus smiled and nodded apprehensively. Yes he knew. He knew very well…

“Hey!” Hermes called from behind them, “I’ll visit ya! Perhaps we can play some dice games together! See how it goes!”

The previous king of Ithaca, now a shadow among shadows smiled gratefully once more.

“I’d love that, my lord…I would be honored…”

Hermes touched his hat with his two fingers in a silent farewell.

“So long, old chap! Finally reaching Humanity’s One Home…”

Shadow among shadows… Odysseus’s face was twisted as if he was crying but shadows shed no tears. All he could do was feel the sorrow…the departure. And he still held his head high, walking proudly and bravely to the fate he knew would come…accompanied by the guiding light of Diomedes…

*

His steps had no sound upon the rocky terrain to the banks of the river of Lithe. Part of Odysseus was tempted to take a drink; forget who he was, wander like a shadow among shadows. However Odysseus of Ithaca was never known of being a coward or taking the easy way out; so his current shadow shouldn’t be an exception. Odysseus had long now prepared for his resolve. He just had, now, to live with his choice. It was the soundless footsteps he still needed to get used to. He could hear Diomedes’s strong footing upon the pebbles and yet he could not hear his own. Once more he clenched his veil around him for comfort.

“Captain…”

The voice made him turn around. The tall, bulky figure was standing there as his reddish blonde hair seemed dull as he was now a shadow but his cheeks were as smiley and as serious as he remembered. He looked the same as he remembered…

“P-Polites…” he whispered chocking in the words that climbed up his throat

Polites smiled and nodded.

“We were all waiting…”

“Always…”  there was another voice

Odysseus turned to see the lean, kind of thin figure of Eurylochus, his black hair as he remembered them…as he was that fateful day.

“Eurylochus…!”

If he were a mortal he would be crying now.

“F-Forgive me…!” he uttered in chocking sobs (the only reminder of his mortal tears), “I…I…forgive me…! It was all my fault!”

“Captain…what are you talking about?” Eurylochus said, “We have nothing to forgive you…not anymore…”

“B-But…but I…”

“We were here…almost 40 years, Odysseus” Polites spoke, “Who would hold a grudge here? And for what?”

“B-But…because of me you…all of you…”

“We made our mistakes too, Captain…” Eurylochus replied, “We have long forgiven and forgotten…we were all waiting…for you”

More souls began approaching and Odysseus knew them all; every one by name as he recognized all these men he lost so many years ago; young and vigorous like they used to be! Odysseus didn’t know if the tears he would want to cry if he were of mortal flesh and blood would be of joy or sadness. Maybe it was both.

“Alkimos…Amphidamas…Perimedes…Lycaon…Antilochus…”

He knew them all; name after name… As the young face arrived as well Odysseus once again smiled

“Elpenor!” he called, “Everyone…oh, gods! Gods!”

They had no words anymore. The retaliation he waited for them did not come. They embraced wholeheartedly. Odysseus realized he could touch them! He was one of them now; a shadow. They embraced him; they kissed him and patted his back and shoulders. They greeted him as if he was gone for a walk around the coastline to inspect the new land they explored instead of being gone for decades to the world of the living. Their touches did not have the same effect as when they were all mortal but they were so much wished for; even if they felt like a breeze, even if they were just a ghost of touch! Odysseus felt his heart ready to burst from all the emotions gathered.

“How can we hold a grudge against you now?” Polites said again, “It is thanks to you we are here…even if we have no proper tomb or funeral pyre and an urn…or a sema that mentions our names…”

“B-But I…”  Odysseus stammered, “I raised a sema for you…at the temple I built for Poseidon…with my hands…brick by brick…I…”

“We know” Eurylochus pointed out, “Which is why we are here and not wandering souls without a place to belong. You appeased Lord Poseidon and raised a temple for him memorizing our names…that’s why we were pardoned by the gods…thanks to you…”

“You carved our names on stone…” Amphidamas whispered, “One by one with your own hammer and chisel…”

“Every name you carved was a name that was led here by Argophontes…” Perimedes pointed out

“Every name you carved was a soul you saved…” Polites concluded

Emotional would be a very small word to express the condition that Odysseus was in right now; his long lost comrades; his companions, were all gathered around him. Their moment could last forever (perhaps it did in the mortal world) when the hellish choir stopped them! Odysseus looked in horror as a bunch of wandering souls arrived

“Odysseus!” they moaned in hatred, “The butcher of Troy finally reached here!”

He recognized some of the faces; people of Troy approaching. They were furious, rightfully so. Odysseus felt fear biting his heart and took several steps back. No, he knew that he was already dead. They couldn’t do real damage to him but that fear was instinctual; primal and strong. He felt like the city of Troy had every reason to hate him and some of the wandering souls were already here, aroused by his arrival. He was prepared it would happen but now it was happening too soon! Too fast! He felt this fear biting his heart and consuming him.

“Back!” Diomedes commanded in his ferocious voice

He hit his spear to the ground, releasing strong light which rippled around him like water shining by the sun.

“Stay back, shadows of the deep! This man shall not be touched! In the name of Athena I command you! Stay back!”

The shades backed down but kept their ground. Odysseus watched in an awe till Eurylochus placed himself before him.

“If you want to harm this man, you must first get through me!” he declared

“And me!” Perimedes joined

“Me too!” Elpenor claimed

“All of us!” Polites emphasized joining the others

Soon this small sea of people gathered around him, forming a wall. Diomedes once more stroke the ground with his spear. Before the impeccable wall, the hostile shadows seemed to be backing down. Odysseus watched all the figures that were now protecting him; like a wall protecting a castle. His eyes scanned them.

“1…2…50…100…200…” he counted, “600…602…”

He covered his mouth in emotion.

“You are…all here…602…”

“603” Polites smiled over his shoulder, “You are here too now, Captain… You are with us now…you are one of us again…”

Odysseus almost sobbed soundly in realization. Yes, he was now with them again! They were complete once more! Diomedes hit his spear on the ground again, this time lifting all the souls away! Odysseus nearly lost strength to his legs and he was held by Polites and Eurylochus.

“Now now, Captain!” Eurylochus said smiling softly, “Don’t crumble on us now! We need you strong once more!”

“Someone needs to lead us here!” Polites joined

Odysseus couldn’t help but scoff a bit, finding strength anew to his feet, standing steadily once more.

“You’re right…” he whispered, “Eurylochus, Polites…I can’t afford breaking now. We went through so much without breaking! All of us…”

Polites smiled.

“Shall we go, Captain? To our next adventure together? For good old times’ sakes?”

Odysseus scoffed.

“Yes! Let’s, Polites! To our greatest adventure yet! I will ask you to accompany me once more to an adventure of mine! Can I have your backs on this?”

Eurylochus and Polites almost in complete sync they hit their chest with their hand, followed by 600 more. They would pledge their loyalty on him again; they would accompany him till the moment they wouldn’t be able to go further. Odysseus was not so worried anymore. The unknown was before him but he had now companions once more to walk beside him. At least till some point; just like the good old times. He turned to Diomedes smiling weakly.

“Let’s go, Diomedes…I am ready”

Diomedes nodded in meaning.

“Yes…let us go. You have yet a long way to go.”

Odysseus nodded. He covered his head with his veil once more and raised his head. The road was long…

But that was how he was used to…

***

Oh man oh man oh man! TT-TT I am sorry guys I am waaaay too much in the angsty mode so I just had to post yet another part of this with the journey in the underworld. I was writing till 4 in the morning last night and kinda finished it today! Sorry if it is a bit all over the place but so is dying IMO...

Soooo as you remember I was heavily inspired by the song "Requiem" by the anime Tasogare Otome x Amnesia and yeah the lyrics that DO exist are equally heartbreaking with the melody!

And I found them so fitting here!

Either way Odysseus comes face to face with the essence of death and the underworld not just as a visitor but as someone who cannot go out of it again; never to see his beloved land again and be separated by his loved ones he left behind for a long time

So gradually he is being introduced to various things here and people...yup gradually meeting those that left...

Yeah the fact that souls cannot cry was just another essence of mine to show how he is no longer alive. He feels emotions but he cannot express them as he used to in one way. Just inserting a bunch of stuff here and there.

Again Perseptolis was mentioned before in my conversations with @ditoob among others. (Also Odysseus prediction on Perseptolis is kinda a wink to Greek literature how sometimes dying characters have some sort of "predicting abilities" about someone)

When Diomedes mentions "the One with Many Names" he mentions Hades. Many times in ancient literature greeks were afraid to name Hades.

And I wanted a small redemption for Odysseus and his comrades in the underworld thus inserting this. Also somehow I found that his comrades protecting him would be more impactful even than Diomedes being a protector god to him.

I wanted to give Odysseus a different perspective in the journey to the realm of the dead. I will probably make a part 3 of this but once again I wanted this chapter to kinda be able to stand on its own.

I hope you like it guys! Let me know!

[scarletwinterxx]

naps and baby kicks - dad mark lee scenario

i know i just wrote about dad mark lee but i saw the baby pictures and i just envisioned this moment. Just imagine this is what little Minjung looks like🥺 like look at him🥺🥺🥺🥺 if he's my kid, i wouldn't be able to say no to him too😭

timeskip to before Minjee was born, Minjung is 5 here (about to be 6) you can read the other parts here:

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Mark is busy slicing the watermelon in the kitchen while you take a nap on the living room couch. Quietly humming some random song, he loves days like this. When he can stay at home and be with his family.

Especially now that another Little Lee is on the way.

You've reached that point in your pregnancy where you're constantly tired, you feel bad about not being as active to take care and play with your son, Minjung, but he really is the best boy. He's been very understanding, he always makes sure you're okay. Just like how his dada taught him.

"Mom, are you awake?" you hear a tiny voice whisper, you can't help but smile and open your eyes. You weren't really sleeping. Just resting your feet and back.

"Yes, love. What is it?" you ask him

"You need water, mama? snacks?" he asks you

Chuckling at your cute son, you shake your head. Instead you pat the vacant spot next to you, Minjung carefully lays next to you.

"I miss hanging out with you, sorry mommy can't run and play outside with you" you tell him

"It's okay, mommy. Daddy says it's because you're growing little sissy right now so we need to take care of you and her"

You smile upon hearing your son's words. Only 5 but already he's wise beyond his years. One thing doesn't change though is his cute face looking more and more like his father's everyday.

Speaking of, Mark walked back to the living room to see his two favorite people on the couch having a small talk. He can hear the conversation between you and Minjung, quietly listening behind.

"You'll tell mama if you need anything okay? Once baby sister is here, it might seem like we're taking care of her a lot but we love you just as much"

"It's okay, mommy. I love you too"

You can't help it, he's just too cute. You squish your little boy's cheeks, hugging him as close as you can. Savoring these last moments of Minjung being an only child.

With the next one on the way, you've been worried about Minjung and how he'll react once the baby is here. But you know your son, he's smart and always kind. The moment you told him he's about to have a sibling, he's been very excited.

"Got room for one more?" Mark decides to finally interrupt, wanting to be a part of this special moment.

"Of course, come here" you open your arm, hugging both of your boys.

"Oh did you feel that?" you ask, making the two boys move away from you

"What?! You okay?" Mark worriedly asks, immediately getting off the couch and crouching on the floor instead. Gently pulling Minjung with him.

"She kicked, here" you take Mark and Minjung's hand and put it where you felt the kick. A few seconds later you felt it again

"Oh, is that little sissy?" Minjung asks you with an excited look on his face

"Yea, she's excited to meet you too"

"Does it hurt, mommy? When she kicks?"

"Sometimes, only when she kicks me here by the ribs but it's okay. She doesn't mean it. She's just trying to move around and stretch a bit" you explain to the little boy, Mark listening to the two of you while his hand draws circles on your tummy. Waiting for his little girl to kick again.

It's the second time but moments like this still amazes him. He can still remember the first time he felt Minjung kick in your tummy like it was yesterday, now the three of you are here feeling the baby girl's kicks. He hasn't met her yet but the amount of love Mark has for his daughter is already beyond this universe.

You, Minjung and this little baby girl is his whole world.

A few weeks later, it's time for Minjung to meet his new little sister

"Okay when we get there, we need to use inside voice okay? We wash our hands first" Mark tells his son, looking down at him.

The two boys make their way to the hospital where you're currently resting. Mark holding Minjung's hand while he holds a bouquet of flowers in the other.

"Okay you knock" he tells him, Minjung knocking gently on the door

"Come in" you say from the other side of the door, Mark opening the door. Immediately you see your baby boy, it's only been two days but it felt like forever since you last saw him.

"Hi, baby. I missed you" you tell him, already feeling the tears build up. Mark chuckles at you, while you roll your eyes at him. Mark helps Minjung wash his hands before the little boy walks over to you.

"Hi mommy, we got you flowers" he says, showing you the flowers

"Thank you, baby. I love them. Can mama have a hug?" you wait for Mark to help Minjung up the bed

"Careful with mom okay, gentle" Mark reminds him, you just smile at the two. Immediately you hug your little boy, compared to little newborn currently in the crib Minjung seems so big.

The thought enough to put tears in your eyes

"I was gone for two days, and you're already a big brother. Mommy missed you so much, buddy" you tell him, peppering kisses all over his face making the boy laugh.

"I missed you too, mommy. Is baby sissy okay?"

"Yea, she's here. You want to meet her?" you ask him, the little boy nodding excitedly.

"Okay, why don't you sit here while I get her?" Mark helps Minjung down from the bed, pointing at the little couch. Mark gets baby girl from her crib before walking towards where Minjung was seating.

Meanwhile you get your phone out to capture the moment.

"Minjung, meet your little sister Minjee" Mark tells his little boy, showing him the little bundle of joy wrapped in the pink blanket. Minjung looked a bit unsure at first, looking at his dad first.

"You can hold her, here she loves holding your finger like this. Gently okay?" Mark lets Minjung hold out one finger so little Minjee can hold it. You wipe the few tears that escaped, smiling at your family

"Hello, Minjee. I'm Minjung, your brother" he says happily. shaking his finger like they're shaking hands for the first time. Mark smiles at his son, kissing the top of his head before looking at his daughter.

"You're going to be the best of friends, you have to teach her how to color and play the piano and how to ride a bike. It's going to be so much fun" Mark tells him, "Would that be okay?"

"Mhm, we can play. I'll share my toys with her" Minjung answers

"Thanks buddy, that's very nice of you" Mark tells him, putting Minjee on his right arm so he can hug Minjung with the other one.

"I love the both of you very very much, more than anything. We take care of her like we take care of mommy, okay?"

"Okay"

"That's my boy" Mark mumbles, hugging Minjung tighter. Looking over at you to see you wiping more tears away.

"Guys, I love this moment but you're making me cry so much" you joke, Mark laughs before gently standing up to walk over to you. He passes Minjee over to you before he kisses you on the head.

"Good job, mom of two"

"Oh shut up, you did this to me" you joke, "Hey, as long as you're willing to. I can do it all over again. I love our babies very much, I don't mind having a few more" he tells you, you know what he means by that. At the end of the day it's your body that goes through a lot.

But looking down at the bundle of joy in your arms and your little man, you know you'd do it over and over again.

"Can we do it until one looks like me?"

"Dude, what are you talking about? She kinda looks like you"

You shoot him a deadpanned look, it's too soon to tell but even know you can see your daughter takes after her dad much like her older brother. As for Minjung, well one look at him and you'd know he's Mark's son.

"Kinda? She looks just like Minjung when he was born. She'll probably look like you too. I don't hate it though, more mini Mark's" you smile at your husband

"Better luck next time, baby"

[angelwhisp3rs]

༺♥༻ royals

Pairing: re4r!leon x fem!reader

Summary: A regency era tale of two enemies lovers brought by a legend of the royal bluebell flower.

Tags: fluff; smut; p in v; fingering; leon is an asshole but just a bit.

This is the third part of my valentines advent! Check it out for the next couple of days for more stories!

Notes: I ALMOST DIED BUT IM FINE, feeling fresh after sh**ting and v**iting for two days!!! ALSO THIS WAS BASED ON A C.AI BOT AND I LOVE HIM

Those balls were all too pretentious, way too classy, and filled with people who pretended to like one another but, in reality, they were just hateful. It didn’t help that the event was being held in her enemy's territory: the Kennedy family.

The family was very prestigious and quite well known all around the realm, but they had a long-lasting feud with Ihelia, her family's kingdom - something about riches and lands centuries ago, but no one is quite sure. For now, they still didn’t see eye to eye for another reason: they were just way too snobbish.

God, especially the oldest, Leon. In a rare occurrence, the man was blonde with blue eyes - while some had one characteristic, this little asshole had both. To make matters worse, he was built like a freaking hero, his sparring abilities being renowned in all the kingdom. So yeah, the man was way too handsome and way too competent. To say he was egotistical was an understatement.

Her parents always told her she had to fulfill her duties as a princess to be wed, attending parties and mingling with the royals. Oh gods, how much did she hate it.

She was almost beginning to give up on keeping appearances as a nice old lady, the former queen of the Luterra kingdom - the one ruled by the Kennedys now. She was always known for her kindness, also being the one responsible for the truce period of Luterra and Ihelia. Doing a proper courtesy, she smiled at the queen mother. 

“Your majesty. It's a pleasure to attend such a beautiful event” Oh, how fake she was

“Oh honey, no need to keep up appearances. I always thought my son was way too obnoxious with his parties” she laughed, offering a welcoming pat on her shoulders.

The princess smiled relieved, looking at the former queen with the utmost respect. Gosh, what a wise woman. “I thought the lions were quite artistic. '' The princess jokes, as the queen mother laughs in agreement.

“So, you entered the age of finding suitors. Someone charmed you yet?”

“Not yet, your majesty. My father is busy telling me I should focus on the strategic side of relationships, while my mother just wants me to focus on a wealthy man”

“Oh dear, what about love?”

“Don’t think it is in the cards for me” the princess smiled apologetically.

“Of course it is. It's for everyone! Have you ever heard of the tale of the royal bluebell flower?”

The princess shook her head, curious about the queen's words.

“It’s a known tale in Luterra. Once in a lifetime, if destiny smiles upon you, you will be able to find a royal bluebell flower in the castle. Once you find it, the flower will guide you to your one true love if you still haven’t found it.”

“That sounds magical, your highness. Maybe I should roam around the gardens then” she joked.

For some reason, the queen gave the girl a knowing smile. The woman was wise beyond her years after all. “Don’t worry. Luterra lands are quite magical. They will lead you anywhere you are”

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Roaming the party his dad threw, Leon almost seethed as he watched his beloved grandmother talk to one of the lowlifes in Ihelia. He never understood her high morals of talking to the people who tried to steal their money and land. They weren’t to be trusted - they tried to steal once, which could guarantee they wouldn’t do it again.

He approached them, gearing himself with a knowing smirk, looking dashing in his red and gold ornamental suit.  

“Didn’t know our parties could be accessed by anyone. I think I’ll talk to dad to reinforce security next time”

The princess rolled her eyes, while the queen just snickered. She quickly excused herself, giving Leon a warning look to “behave”. As the young royals were alone, his nice facade dropped - he didn’t want to appear like a complete jackass in front of his beloved grandma, after all. 

“Genuely, why are you even here?”

“I was invited, idiot. If I could, I wouldn't have come here even if I was threatened”

“I forgot how my dad invited even the most needed ones. Such a charitable man”

“If he was charitable he wouldn’t have brought to Earth a menace like yourself”

Before he could answer, the orchestra began playing a more romantic and slow song. Finding it as another opportunity to tease her, he asked for her hand, knowing that she would look distasteful if she ever wanted to refuse his hand.

“My lady. Do you accept this dance?”

If possible, that was the pivotal moment that she almost killed the bachelor. Forcing a smile to not drop her etiquette, she nodded and held his hand, letting him guide her to the dance floor. 

By destiny's irony, they fit like perfect puzzles, his big and calloused hand wrapping against her delicate gloved one. Their bodies moved in synchrony, and the dance wasn’t as awkward as it was between other bachelors.

“I’m surprised you know how to dance at all, it looks like even in poverty lands they appreciate culture”

“Your grandma is so sweet, how are you even related to her?”

“Grandma is too kind, she always respects those in need. She doesn’t see the scumm your family is” he said in a cruel smirk.

She maintained the appearance, giving him a forced smile. “It amazes how you call yourself smart and yet still hold a grudge - that isn't yours - after centuries.”

“Ha, is that the best you could say to me?”

“Honestly, no. The way you act is so beneath me that I don't think it is worth it to spend so much energy on you”.

As I'd on cue, the orchestra stopped the song, and she did another courtesy and left the dance floor.

However, she failed to watch Leon pale, but for reasons she would be none the wiser for a long time.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

“Honey, the ball in Luterra must've been quite exciting”

“Ah, not much. Why do you say that?” The princess asks her father curiously.

“Because the oldest of the Kennedys just asked for your hand in marriage”

“HE WHAT?”

It was quite comical how her voice resonated in the castle, looking confused. 

“I know you might not like it, but it is a perfect marriage for you. It would solve the rift between the kingdoms and it would secure both households in influence”

The princess looked angrily at her dad, as he told the most absurd thing she ever heard, with even worse reasons.

“Do any of my feelings matter at all?”

“They do, but we have to be strategic. I'm sorry, honey, but I already accepted it”.

She lost her grounding, looking desolated at her father's words. It didn't matter what she felt or what she said, at the end of the day, she was a pawn to serve her father's wishes.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

The change into his castle was even more terrifying. But what she could never count was the complete change in Leon's behavior. Although he still wasn't overly friendly, he was much kinder - he was the one who started that lunacy after all.

They still slept in separate rooms until the wedding happened, but he made an effort to spend at least a part of the day with her. Whenever she asked him for his reasons for wanting to marry her, he always gave her the same answer.

“Please ask me after our wedding”

After some weeks of curiosity, the ceremony happened, and it was perfect. To everyone watching, it was a wedding to be remembered for years. Hell, even she felt like a true princess.

She warmed up to Luterra, especially the castle and its staff. Her assigned maid was absolutely lovely, and she honestly considered the woman a friend. 

Still, she vehemently ignored her family in the ceremony. If they traded her like a pawn, they can play that game by themselves, she doesn't want to be a part of it.

By the end of the night, Leon and she were finally sharing a room. She looked nervous, sitting up in bed with him. He was the first one to break the ice.

“You looked beautiful today. You always do, but you shined even more today”

“Thank you. And thank you for being at my side the entire day. I'm glad I didn't feel alone”

“I would never. I will always choose you”

Some moments passed, and she bit the bullet.

“Leon… why me?” 

He was a coveted bachelor, every woman would want him. Why his enemy?

He smiled, and looked down at the sheets, as if he was embarrassed.

“Your hair ornament at the day of the ball”

“What? Just because?” I asked giggling.

“No. It was a royal bluebell. That's when I knew”

She looked at him surprised. Just the tale his grandmother told her at the party. That's why she looked so cunning, she must've realized the flower she had on her hair.

“But Leon, anyone could've worn something with the flower-”

“No. I didn't want to attend the event, but I heard a staff member talking about destiny's surprises. I was already late to the event, and you were the first woman I saw.”

“Jeez, you take these things seriously. You honestly think I'm your soulmate”

“Wholeheartedly. And if you don't, I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you”

She was taken aback by his words. So moved, she pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising both at the spontaneity. Leon didn't waste any time and got over her - it was their honeymoon, after all.

In a mess of limbs and eagerness, both were naked as they explored each other's bodies, breathless and excited. Leon maintained eye contact and lifted her thighs to his waist, offering his fingers to her and letting her mouth soak them. Then, they moved down to her clit, circling and rubbing it slowly, drinking in the soft gasps of pleasure.

“So soft, baby… gonna make this pretty pussy love me just as much as you do”

As she was wet enough, one finger gently entered her needy hole, finding her g spot and rubbing it slowly, her entrance clenching around him.

His movements were slow but deliberate, and soon his pretty princess fell apart on his fingers. No time to waste, his other hand lifted her other thigh to his hips, giving easy access to her.

His hand pinched and circled her nipples, kissing her deeply as his tip began to slide in, causing both to moan in unity.

“Fuck, Leon… too much”

“You can take it, you are my good girl”

She clenched at the praise, making him smirk. He kept praising her, till she was ready to take cock. 

“My baby, gonna take care of you forever”

“Doing so good, just taking me so deep”

“Pussy made to be fucked by me

As he felt her more comfortable and turned on, he moved his hips at a consistent pace, the angled head of his cock hitting her spot just nicely. 

She scratched his arms and back, guaranteeing he henot be able to be shirtless in front of people for quite a while, but he didn't mind. He would take every mark she gave in, that's how much he loved her.

He moaned as his cock was swallowed by her gummy walls, her wetness granting a white creamy circle at the base of his manhood.

He positioned himself again, throwing her legs over his arms and bending her in half, letting him hit it deeper, making his wife tear up - in pleasure, of course.

“God, if you keep clenching I won't be able to hold back, baby”

“Please, please, just want you to cum. Please fill me up, husband”

Jesus, how could he resist? He was only a man after all. As his hips pistoned in her, he felt her contracting her walls and cumming all around him, triggering his orgasm.

She whined as she felt filled up, her body shaky as her orgasm just threw her on cloud 9. She smiled as he kissed her face as he came down too, appreciating and worshiping the body of his soulmate.

“Isn't that enough proof that you are my destiny?”

“Hmm, don't know that… maybe you should try again” She said smirking.

Leon didn't oppose her. After all, he had all eternity to prove his love.

[disformer]

What do you feel is more concerning for children with what is in the EarthSpark series; all of the clear terror and death, or having a they/them pronouned character?

Because the terror and death is seemingly entirely looked over but the ONE CHARACTER going by different pronouns is apparently nothing short of outrage.

Anon, I Am Nonbinary.

I’ll put a more thought out response under the cut

Earthspark drinking game take a sip every time an extremely young child has to emotionally support an adult or is put in life-threatening danger.

1. Steven Universe really ruined a generation of children’s media by making showrunners think they had to tackle issues like PTSD and trauma.

However, to give SU some credit, Steven was not 9 years old at the start of the show. It’s a really jarring choice that was probably made to capitalise on a more marketable demographic for TF and to keep the children’s play more lighthearted, but you get some really weird moments like (checks notes) a nine year old giving advice to an adult on how to handle trauma.

The issue with this is no nine year old should ever have to do this for an adult. They do not need to be wise beyond their years. They do not need to be a therapist for their caretakers. Grimlocks PTSD episode is one of the most egregious examples of this, where (not only is this depiction extremely one-note and weird) the narrative punishes Jawbreaker for not realising Grimlock is having a panic attack in the middle of their play.

As a framing device in a kids movie, what is a nine year old viewer supposed to take from this? The child brain is going to think ‘the adult lashed out and hurt Jawbreaker, it was his fault for being too rowdy.’ LIKE YOU WOULDNT SEE THIS IN PEPPA PIG.

And you do need to consider this when you’re writing children that young in your media, because kids are going to watch shows that have other kids the same age as them in it. There’s an almost instinctive camaraderie in seeing a fellow nine-year-old on TV when you’re at that age. So, the show is very likely going to be watched by 8-15 year olds which brings us to

2. JESUS CHRIST. THIS SHOW NEEDS TO CALM DOWN.

This show is way way way too interested in putting children in extreme danger. Constantly, towards the end of the series.

I’ll make a note first that it’s okay if kids shows have fun play-violence; kids like action. Children like low-stakes explosions. It’s not super serious and most TF media does this well, even if it’s tonally a bit more serious. This is not really an issue in a show like TFP or TFA which also had young kids.

Earthspark does not make its action low-stakes. Earthspark treats its violence extremely seriously; children cry, they scream, they get bruised, their parents wail when they see them in danger. Violence has a lasting impact, it has to because the show constantly wants to talk about trauma, so they can’t have video game rules. If they get hurt it has to impact them. Robbie and Mo are in consistent, life-threatening danger. They’re always being shot at or dropped off cliffs or almost killed and it always harrows them.

And kids can pick up on this. They’re going to realise that this is something that’s Serious, and Scary, and they’re going to be FREAKED out.

They’re also going to be freaked out when the children are fuckin. Tied into the bio-wall with tubes by Mandroid, or when Robbie has alien leukaemia and his parents are so so scared and has to rush him to the hospital and Mo is crying so much, or when their parents are seemingly killed and the kids are screaming and punching the ground and blaming themselves.

And that last part is important, because on several occasions the narrative reinforces this. The narrative. Of a children’s show. Says yes; Robbie and Mo have powers, and this makes them responsible for the well-being of the adults around them. Mo literally gets told this. By GOD. Before her parents proudly watch on without interfering as she fights in hand to hand combat with the villain (WHO IS, AS WE HAVE SEEN, FUCKING DERANGED AND WOULD LOVE TO KILL A TEENAGER JUST ONCE PLEASE PLEASE)

In conclusion, what this tells me is the showrunners are inexperienced. They didn’t consider what is appropriate for the subject matter of a children’s cartoon. They wanted to write about trauma, and war, and think kids are cute! And didn’t want their TF fanfiction to be narratively compromised by having to ‘dumb it down’ for kids.

The result is this is never a show I would ever put on for a 4th grade class in break time, at the risk of severely upsetting a lot of them. And it’s also a show I can’t enjoy as an adult, because it uses the language of a children’s cartoon to make nuanced topics more binarised and soppy.

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

You ever wonder why only sheznaya seems to have any kind of diplomatic core? Like we rarely see or hear of any of the other governments interacting in any official capacity. At least that I've heard of.

that is a good question actually

from a lore presepective? i think this stems mostly from the fact all nations have wildly different types of governance. snezhnaya seems to run under the different fatui harbingers, who all answer to the tsaritsa. they have bankers and mayors in their group, and they live in a difficult environment (plus they have traditional non-morally-white organization Goals, and so need to have Reach on all nations), so it would make sense for them to reach out and seek cooperation. assuming you want to buy the idea that they have intentions beyond Fatui Plans for having diplomats, of course. it's also perfectly likely for it all to be a poorly-disguised cover for the gnosis hunt lore-wise as well.

liyue is the closest to them i think, in that it runs under the qixing which used to run under (or parallel to?) rex lapis. now that it's just the qixing, and they're the trade center for teyvat, it makes sense why you'd see relatively prosperous diplomatic relationships with snezhnaya there - but also since they're a bountiful land, they've no need to send out diplomats. besides, there's the fact that the only seemingly functional land trading road in the game is between liyue and mondstadt, who,

are currently without their de jure leader, and jean is mostly just holding the fort till vakra returns. the knights can barely keep monstadt in check so it wouldn't make sense for them to need foreign relations when all they probably need can be obtained from World Trade Hub next door (liyue). this might change with dornman port tho

fontaine also seems to funcition like a more recognizable government, but they also seem so self-suficient (and self-absorbed) to have any need for diplomats. again, they also have a very clear trade route with sumeru in place (speaking of, who the fuck runs sumeru? the akademiya?) sumeru also has clearly established trade routes, and if they are run by the akademiya, are probably too absorbed with research to bother with foreign relationships. everyone comes to study there anyway, diplomats or no, and they send their researchers out to all nations.

inazuma was literally closed until less than a year ago. allegedly. inazuma is, also, the only other one you'll see trying for foreign relationships and diplomatic plays. that's the whole reason why ayaka and ayato were there on the fontinalia festival. so i guess, at the end of the day, the only reason why inazuma doesn't have a diplomatic core the same way snezhnaya does is bc they were literally closed until very recently.

and natlan seems to be closed as well, so we'll have to see.

also, were there any fatui diplomats in fontaine and sumeru? as in, under that pretense? bc we know the ones in mondstadt were there to sus out barbatos, the ones in liyue were there to sus out morax, and the ones in inazuma (which i wouldn't even know if they counted as diplomats) were there to give watatsumi delusions (and yoink the gnosis. i can't remember how signora came into all of this tbh). as far as i recall, there were no 'diplomats' in sumeru, i don't think dottore arrived under that pretense. if he did, we know it was to get scara. and in fontaine- all fatui in fontaine were just house of the hearth members, whom i don't think qualify as diplomats. there might've been 'diplomats' in other world quests, but i can't remember right now. i also can't remember why tf childe was in fontaine to begin with ngl

TL;DR: from a lore perspective, i don't have an answer and it's an interesting question and whatever ideas i have are long as fuck. from a non-lore perspective, this is probably just bc the fatui are the scheeming antagonists out on a hunt for one specific gizmo present in each nation, and so they need spies and information networks and subterfuge n shit. like i'm fairly certain that's the only reason why they seem to be the only ones with a diplomatic core.

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! Thank you so much for your hard work, people :D I found lots of amazing fic from here and I must say, I very much appreciate it. The titles you people recommend are always amazing.

I wanted to ask for your help on recommending me fics in which Crowley is a human and Azi an non-human, if possible? Preferably Azi as an angel, but anything is fine. I've read when it was Human Azi and Demon (or other non-human entities) Crowley, so I was searching for the opposite. Once again, thank you!

Hi! You can check our #human crowley for more fics like this. Here are some to add to the collection...

The likeness of a man by hapax (G)

There was something … wrong … about Aziraphale. Well, not wrong, exactly, but not right either.  Not … normal. No matter how nice he was, there was no getting around the fact that Aziraphale was too weird to pass for a high school student. That didn't mean that Crowley didn't want to be his best friend.

out of touch, out of time (out of my head when you're not around) by popcornizuku (T)

"Uh, are you a demon?” His face crumbles, clearly distraught by the implication, and Crowley winces. He shakes his head vehemently, “Oh, Heavens no. Quite the opposite, really.” Before Crowley can question whatever that means, he raises a brow, considering, “Were you attempting to summon a demon? I don’t believe that would be a very wise course of action. Awful company, demons are. They have never been known for their manners, I can assure you.” “Er, right. I’ll take your word for it… Wait, no, I wasn’t trying to summon a demon!” (Or, Crowley accidentally summons an angel, attempts to find his soulmate, fights some demons, and falls in love.)

Guarding Anthony by Magnolia822 (E)

When middling angel Aziraphale is assigned as guardian to one Anthony J Crowley, aging playboy and heir to an industrial fortune, he finally has the chance to prove himself to Heaven and earn his place on Earth. Armed only with the compendious yet vague Binder of Guardian Angel Protocols, he must learn to trust his own instincts if he is to stop Crowley from self-destructing. Anthony Crowley has been living his life in the shadow of a tragic incident from his past. He never expects help to come from the most unlikely quarter: a dowdy, yet intriguing, bookseller named A.Z. Fell. Neither of them expects to fall in love. But on this crazy place called Earth, anything can happen. Can't it?

Pure of heart by taj_mahal (G)

After a particularly harrowing day in heaven, trying to avert the Second Coming from the inside, Aziraphale decides to treat himself to a visit to earth to indulge in one of his most treasured earthly delights – a meal at a new up and coming restaurant in London. He is not prepared for what he finds.

Who wants to live forever? by jessescreations (NR)

Antony Colby is a young man living in London, who is suddenly plagued by nightmares of fires, angels and demons. In search for simple answers he discovers big errors in his life - trying to make sense of things, he comes in contact with a bookshop owner who seems to know more than he wants to admit and the longer the search goes the larger the pile of questions grows - in the end of it all Antony Colby has to make a choice or Crowley is punished with a mortal life and does not remember the past 6000 years.

The Mourning Star by RavenMelon (M)

In the aftermath of the thwarted Apocalypse in this alternate universe, Crowley has forcibly lost his memory and taken on a humble life as a greenhouse keeper in Upper SoHo. Meanwhile, Aziraphale, believing Crowley perished during the tumultuous events of heavenly punishment, has adopted a young girl he named Nebula in his process of healing. Their paths unexpectedly cross when Aziraphale seeks horticultural knowledge for Nebula, leading to a heart-wrenching reunion with a forgotten past. Will the Angel be able to find new happiness? Will he bring his Crowley back to him from beyond?

- Mod D

[purpletyrant]

au chises that have been bumping around in my brain like my own personal multiverse of madness. they needed to be exorcised. i recognize and respect the adage that your au may as well be an oc at a certain point, and i think these two cross the threshold, but consider this: i like to play with chise like a paper doll and see how she reacts to situations. so there

for their faces i sorta referenced off of haruka kudo, who played chise in the stage play

attack dog chise is the "living weapon" trope. i imagine that the witch bought her just as elias did, but chise is under the impression that she was taken in out of the goodness of her heart. her master has taught her very little in the means of practical magic, instead focusing all of her training into inflicting as much damage as possible. the witch has no expectation that chise will live very long, so has no intention of raising her up to be an equal. so, this chise has only been taught the power of incredible violence. if she isnt using her fists, shes using low-level curses and other magic considered to be kind of a dick move

design wise, all the o-rings are meant to evoke arc 1 chises adder necklace. she was probably inspired by the knife-wielding punk chise with attitude from the merkmal. since this chise has no ruth, you could say that she sort of embodies both of them

i imagine the dynamic between her and her master as sort of a ~*twisted and dark*~ version of kimihiro and yuko from xxxholic... which ive never read, but still. i dont have a design in mind for the witch shes beholden to, but she isnt dissimilar to hiroe ando from the she who travels au. maybe she IS hiroe. hm

soothsayer's daughter chise is the golden child of her family and has lived a life of relative comfort since being taken from her mother. still, her bleeding heart causes her guilt when she thinks back on the mother she can barely remember. in the last couple years, this chise has tracked her down and set up the means to meet in secret with the intention of apologizing to her and gaining closure. her family does not take kindly to this, and when chise meets chika in the tiny, filthy apartment shes living in, magic is used to force chises mother to commit suicide in front of her. chise is left shaken to the core by this event, especially by chikas words that she "should have never come back." she attempts to maintain a brave and serene exterior, believing that no one else knows of chikas death

since yuuki is still considered a traitor to the family, this chise has a polite if distant relationship with him, having been mainly raised by uncles and aunts. fumiki is supremely annoyed by her. shes very protective and patronizing

her silhouette is based off of a shrine maidens, but i didnt want to dress her exactly like one, since thats... kind of on the nose, isnt it? regardless, the focus of her magic is in purification and exorcism - her soothsaying skills are not quite so refined

she who travels chise is she who travels chise, she comes with her own fic series, read it or dont. i do have thoughts about her older offshoot, though. this chise is in her 30s. she picked up smoking from master onishi - HE TRIED NOT TO INFLUENCE HER, REALLY - and took over the theater when he died. even though she owns it and its a good source of income, shes moved on and is trying to be a more respectable mage beyond the sideshow reputation of her early career. shes essentially cosplaying a put-together businesswoman, and is kind hearted but comically serious. she probably has a niece or nephew and is constantly giving them enchanted gifts. her elias received an untraceable check for five million pounds - adjusted for inflation - several years ago and has not been able to track her down. her anger has cooled, but its now been so long that she feels too awkward to contact him. she still maintains contact with angelica and simon, though - maybe one day shell show up in his yard in a shiny black car

i think it would be soooo fun to throw them all in a room together with canon chise and watch them fight. or maybe they would just cry it out? soothsayers daughter thinks shes above all of this and will condescendingly preach about how attack dog has a "wounded heart"... until attack dog roundhouse kicks her in the head