#an increasingly endearing hans it is

[minsungotp]

Want so bad

Ch7 call me tonight

Changbin shook his head high key amused. One of his best friends had a very obvious crush on the new kid. And it was just hilarious to watch.

He observed as Han suddenly pinned leeknow to the wall on the other side of the room.

"Damn." He flinched. Who knew Han had that in him!

The sound of pure laughter rang in his ears and he turned towards it.

Felix was getting a piggyback ride from hyunjin.

Changbin watched them thoughtfully. There was something special about them both that made him double take. The atmosphere the two created made it even more interesting.

Before he could change his mind the rapper barged in.

"Hyunjin, Felix." He nodded.

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes in jealousy.

"Do you need something?" He asked in a chilly tone.

Felix reached for changbin's hand, making his heart melt. How could one man be such a sweetheart? An incredible source of positivity and joy. He had never seen anything like it. And hyunjin was so unapologetically himself. It was extremely refreshing. He found himself wanting to be apart of their little friendship.

Felix seemed thrilled to see him but hyunjin needed a bit more convincing.

Let's see which one of you angels falls harder. He thought to himself.

"Hyunjin~ he grabbed his shoulder and stamped a foot. "Hyunjinnie~" he complained. "Let me join you! Don't break my heart." He pouted playfully.

Hyunjin blinked a look of confusion in his eyes. It was clear that he had thought Changbin was there to flirt with his Felix. But here he was teasing him instead.

"Get off-" hyunjin grumbled, but he didn't actually feel that angry. If anything he was just curious and flattered now.

"Must escape!" He started hauling Felix across the room who shouted his enjoyment.

Changbin caught up to them at last and an idea popped into his head.

What better way to get closer to someone than cuddling up under the blankets?

"Hyunjinnie, jinnie. Can I join you please."

Hyunjin finally gave in with a slight eyeroll.

After a few more piggy back ride laps, Felix slid off hyunjin's back and onto the floor. He brushed hair out of his handsome face. Eyes piercing right through him directly to his core.

"Hyunnie. How can you carry me so easy?" He blinked. "So strong." He murmured, feeling up his arm. Hyunjin grew shy and Changbin flexed demanding attention as well.

Felix feeled up his arms longer than hyunjin. Because I have so much more to feel. He boasted silently.

Changbin grinned he was already having a lot of fun messing around with these two boys. The most interesting part of this new dynamic he had created is each boy brought out a completely different side of himself.

Hyunjin made him work harder with his snarky remarks and eyeroll. while all Felix had to do was breathe and Changbin would find him endearing,

He grabbed each boys hand and ran his thumbs over their knuckles. "Let's watch a movie together. At my place." He offered smoothly.

Hyunjin looked slightly confused but Felix lit up immediately.

"Blanket cuddles are the best kind." He informed hyunjin who grew increasingly shy with the remark.

"If Felix is in then I'm down." He agreed.

Changbin smirked. "Here's my number. Call me tonight if you don't have plans."

Pretty soon it was only him and Bangchan left in the

Room. The leader had seen the whole exchange.

"Why did you invite them to our house?" He asked curiously. Three racha were already living together long before the other members were chosen.

Changbin shrugged. "Movie. Is there a problem?" He asked sarcastically.

Bangchan narrowed his eyes. "But the couch is so small!" He spluttered.

Changbin wasn't phased.

"That's the point mr Chan."

Bangchan folded his arms

What am I going to do with all these boys?

[naesarangyunho]

Got My Number- Im Changkyun

[I don't own these images credits to the original owners]

TW: abusive relationship (physically and emotionally)

NSFW- MINORS DNI

Synopsis: Even though they're getting a divorce, Y/N is forced to attend a gala with her husband to keep up pretenses. He's two faced and controlling and when she doesn't behave he makes sure she knows it. A handsome young man finds her crying in an empty corridor and takes care of her.

Contains: Age gap (mc is 38 and Changkyun is 27), Changkyun is a gentleman even though he fucks an older, married woman without even knowing her name, some brief fingering, protected sex, semi-public sex, some brief cockwarming, a little bit of good ol' dry humping too

[Word count: 3.6k]

Her husband's fingers had spent so much time digging into her side this evening that she wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises the next day.

They were attending a large charity gala at some lavish venue and had to keep up the appearance of a happily married couple- nothing could tarnish her husband's 'perfect' reputation as an important government official. He'd told her that more than once just this evening.

He would wrap his arm around her waist and dig his fingers into the flesh there, making sure she behaved herself as he greeted guests or held a conversation with them. He would have a smile plastered on his face throughout every exchange and the falsehood of it all was making Y/n feel sick to the stomach and increasingly uncomfortable.

The event was only about halfway through and Y/n had no idea how much longer she would last.

Her sides hurt from her husband's harsh grip, her feet were aching in her heels and she felt like crying if she was being honest.

She was making small talk with the wife of someone attending the function when she was once more whisked away by her husband.

His claws dug into her side once again as he brought her over to two good-looking men wearing expensive tailored suits.

They smiled politely at her and she did her best to return the gesture.

Her husband looked at her with a stiff grin, "Honey, this is Mr Lee and Mr Han. They own a successful entertainment company."

She cringed at the term of endearment, knowing he didn't mean it but smiled at the guests once more. She had heard of them before. Her husband mentioned that the two men had gotten married a few months ago. He hadn't been polite about his opinion of their relationship and she almost scoffed at how well he was holding a conversation with them despite the awful things he had said behind their backs. Her soon-to-be ex-husband disgusted her.

"Mr Lee and Mr Han, this is my lovely wife, Y/n."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." They responded with smiles and bows of the head.

They seemed like a lovely couple and she felt sorry that they even knew her husband.

She must have taken too long to respond because she felt her husband's fingertips dig into her waist.

She had reached her limit.

"You're hurting me!" She hissed at him and he glowered at her. The other men frowned and looked slightly concerned.

Her husband tried to shrug it off with a forced laugh, "Sorry, sweetheart. I hadn't realised I'd been holding you so tight."

She just looked at him with tears stinging at her eyes. The couple cleared their throats awkwardly and excused themselves.

As soon as they were gone her husband dragged her off into a quiet corridor out of sight from prying eyes.

"What did I say!?" He yelled at her.

"I've been trying but you're making it difficult to put up with your bullshit!"

He went deathly silent and she realised she'd made a mistake by raising her voice at him. She barely saw the slap coming.

The sound of his palm striking her face echoed through the silent corridor. Her cheek stung and her jaw ached and tears fell silently from her eyes as she looked at him in shock.

He sighed deeply and smoothed out his blazer, "Why'd you have to make me do that? Why can't you just be a good, obedient wife and do as you're told?"

She didn't dare respond, only looked at him with burning eyes and growing anger and pain.

He gave her a lingering look, glancing at her red cheek. He hoped it wouldn't bruise- that would look bad for him.

"Pull yourself together and join me back in the main hall as soon as you're done."

And then he was gone.

She fell to the floor the instant he was out of sight, not even worrying about dirtying her expensive dress, and choked back a sob.

She couldn't believe the situation she was in or the way he treated her. It hurt. She no longer loved him but it hurt so badly to know that after nearly fifteen years of marriage he didn't have an ounce of respect left for her. She cursed herself for having fallen for his charms and marrying him so young.

She was sobbing aloud at this point and prayed to god that no one saw her like this.

Except someone did.

She felt a presence beside her and rose quickly trying her best to regain her composure, wiping her face with the palm of her hand. She came face to face with an attractive man who appeared to be a few years younger than her.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

She let out a sigh of relief; he hadn't seen what had happened.

"Oh, nothing. I'm alright, thank you."

The corridor was dimly lit but there was still enough light for the man to see her smudged makeup and wet lashes. As well as an ugly swollen handprint on her cheek.

He felt anger surface at that last detail. Who had the audacity to hit a woman?

"You don't look alright- your makeup has run."

"Oh, god." She brought her fingers to her face but she knew she wasn't going to get much done like that and she also realised that she had left her purse in the main hall.

"Here, come with me." He held out a hand.

She was very hesitant to accept his offer but anything was better than going back into that hall. She placed her hand in his and followed him as he took her down the corridor and made a few turns.

They entered a large library and he guided her to a cushioned bench against one wall. The lighting in the room was warm and the atmosphere was calming.

"How'd you find this place?" She inquired and he shrugged.

"This is my uncle's home. I've spent a lot of time here."

He took a seat next to her and she noticed he'd fetched a small bag from somewhere. She frowned at him but realised what was happening as he pulled out some makeup wipes.

"May I?" He asked, gesturing to her face with one of the wipes.

She nodded and he gave her a small smile before gently wiping the smudged makeup from her face. He made sure to be careful and not agitate the injured cheek. After he was done he pulled out some basic makeup and looked at her.

"I only have the basics since I don't usually do very extravagant makeup on myself."

"That's alright."

She watched his face as he went about very gently applying a new layer of makeup to her face. The bb cream didn't match her skin tone so he settled on only doing the rest.

Mascara, a smoky brown eye look and some matte lipstick.

He gently stroked her hair from her face and noticed the way she was staring so intensely at him.

He smirked and she dropped her gaze to her lap.

"Thank you." She murmured and he just hummed.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again.

"Who hit you?"

She looked up at him again. He looked concerned. Was it safe to tell him these things? He was a stranger after all and a guest by the looks of his expensive black suit and there was a slight possibility he, therefore, knew her husband. But for some reason, she felt like she could trust him.

"My husband. Or ex-husband rather- we're getting divorced." She admitted softly after a moment of hesitation.

He was upset. Her husband? He of all people should be treating her right. Nobody deserved to be treated this way.

"Why are you still here with him?" He asked and she just shook her head, tears brimming at her lashes again.

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't cry." He put a warm hand on her arm, stroking it with his thumb to provide comfort.

She sniffed, "It's just that I don't really have a choice. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be with him but I'm forced to be by his side even now and act like everything is fine."

He gave her a once over. She was a beautiful woman and had a brightness to her, however, dulled it might have been. How could someone treat her this way?

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help."

She shook her head with a sad smile, "You've done more than enough."

He paused for a moment before carefully wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She was a little surprised but leant into his side, welcoming the comfort he was giving her.

Now that she had begun to feel a little better and was also this close to him, she couldn't help taking a good look at him.

He had dark hair that contrasted nicely with his light skin, intense, feline-like eyes and a barely-there smile on his pretty mouth. He looked both very alluring and comforting at the same time. His body against hers was warm and his cologne smelt nice.

He noticed her watching his face and looked at her. She didn't look away but looked at his lips, tinted with the same shade of matte lipstick she now wore. They were slightly parted and she could feel warm puffs of air leaving them.

She looked back up and into his eyes and noticed his gaze had become a little heated. Did he find her as attractive as she found him?

The answer was yes, she realised, as he very gently cupped her face in his hands, being careful to avoid aggravating her sore cheek. He gazed into her eyes as if asking for permission and she nodded almost imperceptibly and that was all he needed to lean in and press his lips to hers.

She placed a hand on his neck and moved her lips against his as she returned the kiss.

She wasn't quite sure why she was doing this. She had only just met this man. She didn't even know his name but as their kiss changed from soft and slow to heated, she found herself no longer caring.

Her finger pushed into his hair as she opened her mouth to accept his tongue and a shiver passed through her body as she felt his hand on her thigh, fingertips brushing over the skin just below the hem of her mid-thigh length cocktail dress.

She pressed closer to him and before she knew it she was in his lap, skirt riding up her thighs as she straddled his thighs. His hands were on her waist and the touch of his fingers was welcome and a lot less harsh than her ex-husband's had been.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she tilted her head and deepened the kiss further, trying to stop a moan from leaving her mouth as he gently sucked on her tongue, his hand sliding further up her body until it was on the side of her ribcage, his thumb resting beneath her breast as he held her.

A warm flush had settled on her skin and she was almost ashamed of the way she pushed down against his crotch. His breath caught and he held her there. A wave of arousal passed over her as she felt him hard beneath her.

She couldn't help the way she ground against him a little harder and she whimpered into his mouth at the friction, even if it was dulled by layers of fabric.

He groaned and ground up against her, his mouth leaving hers to kiss her neck. She sighed as she felt his lips trail down the column of her throat to the skin above her breasts. She thanked god for the low neckline as his mouth finally moved to the tops of her breasts, just by the neckline.

She pushed down against him again and he thrusted up slightly to meet her movement.

His hands slid over to her breasts, palming them through her dress and she arched forwards into his touch with a gasp against his lips.

He tugged the thin straps of her dress down and then hooked his fingers into the neckline of her dress, making eye contact with her. She nodded fervently.

A moan left her mouth before she could stop it as he tugged the front of her dress down, exposing her tits fully to him, and instantly sucked a nipple into his mouth.

A hand slid up under her dress and squeezed her thigh and her fingers snuck into his hair once more as she ground down against him again.

She needed more friction. A wet patch had formed on her panties and her clit was aching for stimulation.

"Can I fuck you?" He asked suddenly, sounding breathless as he looked up at her from where his face was against her chest.

She paused for a second. She was in public (kind of), she was still married (kind of) and her husband was waiting for her in the main hall. The same man who hit her and hasn't touched her in nearly a year, preferring the company of his barely legal secretary over his thirty-eight-year-old wife.

Fuck it and fuck her husband.

"Yes."

He quickly kissed her once more before reaching over for his bag that had been discarded next to them. He pulled out his wallet and fished out a condom.

He urged her to sit up a little and she sat up on her knees in his lap as he lifted his hips and tugged his pants and underwear down just enough to free his painfully hard cock.

She bit her lip as she watched him roll the condom onto his length, her arousal reaching new heights. He pushed her dress up further, letting the fabric bunch around her waist and reached between her thighs.

She gasped as she felt his fingers tug her panties to the side and slide into her. She was almost dripping wet and he felt his dick twitch as he ran his fingers through her slick folds, lazily circling her clit before moving down and sliding them into her again. Her thighs quivered and she held back a moan as he pumped his fingers in and out of her a few times before lining himself up with her entrance.

She felt the tip of his dick against her and couldn't wait any longer, sinking down on him in one go, ignoring the slight burn.

He hissed in pleasure as he felt her warmth wrap around him, "Fucking hell, you're so tight."

She lifted herself just enough that only the tip of his dick was left inside her before dropping down again, her tits bouncing from the movement.

He gripped her waist, thrusting up into her with a moan, meeting her movements and it didn't take long for them to work out a perfect rhythm that had both of them holding back moans.

"You feel so good." He panted and she barely heard him, her head lolling backwards as she lost herself in the feeling of his dick dragging against her walls and getting deeper than her fingers ever could.

He moved his mouth forwards and found her breasts again. A whimper fell from her lips helplessly at the sensation of his dick pressing into her at all the right places and his tongue on her hardened nipples.

"When was the last time someone touched you this way?" He murmured against her skin.

"Too long ago." She panted out in response.

"God, your husband has been missing out." He groaned as he thrust up into her.

She felt her orgasm building up and picked up the pace. Her thighs burned from the movements and the effort to keep herself up in his lap but she barely noticed, too caught up in the pleasure that was threatening to overwhelm her.

He was close- he couldn't help how swiftly his orgasm was approaching. This woman was extraordinary. The sounds she let out, the way her tits bounced as he fucked her and the way she clenched around his dick as she grew closer to the edge was driving him insane.

"Harder. Please, I'm so close." She whimpered and he immediately followed her instructions as best he could. He wanted to give her what she deserved, wanted to make her feel good in a way her shitty husband could never. He wanted to feel her cum on his dick and wanted her crying out in pleasure.

He reached a hand between them, fingers finding her clit as he fucked her as hard and fast as he could.

Soon enough her walls contracted hard around his dick and she let out a cry as she fell over the edge.

The sight and feeling of her cumming threw him straight over the edge too and he came, burying his face in her neck, his moans smothered by her skin.

She stopped her movements entirely after a while sitting still in his lap, his cock still buried inside of her. Her pulse was racing and her body felt hot and flushed but oh so good.

He kissed her neck, "Fucking hell."

She could only hum in response as she struggled to catch her breath.

He pulled his face away from her neck to cup her face and kiss her. She winced as his fingers pressed into her aching cheek.

"Oh shit, sorry." He pulled his hand away quickly.

She shook her head, "It's okay."

"No, it's not."

He hated the thought of this glorious woman having to leave here and go back to her piece of shit husband. But he couldn't do anything about it.

He leaned in slowly and placed a delicate, tender kiss to her sore cheek, "I'm sorry he did this to you."

She felt tears prick at her eyes at his actions. When was the last time someone was so kind to her and treated her this way?

She was about to speak when the loud ring of a cell phone cut through their little bubble.

Changkyun cursed and reached over to pick up his phone.

"It's my uncle." He said in way of explanation.

She wondered if she should move out of his lap now but he hadn't said anything and sitting this way with him still inside of her was kind of nice and she wanted to savour what time she had left. Who knew if she was ever going to see him or feel this again?

"Hello?"

He gently pulled up her dress to cover her boobs as he answered the phone and she helped him to properly situate her breasts in the dress.

He covered the mic quickly, "Too distracting." He whispered with a cheeky wink and she nearly laughed aloud.

He put the phone back to his ear, "Yes, sorry. I'm here. Sorry, I was in the bathroom. Oh? Okay, I'll be there soon."

He hung up.

"My uncle needs me for something in the main hall." He explained and she nodded, her heart sinking the slightest. She knew they were going to separate eventually so she reminded herself to stop being stupid about this.

He gently lifted her, pulled out and set her down next to him on the bench.

He pulled the condom off and tied a knot in it before chucking it in a bin nearby them.

He stood up, tugged his slacks and underwear back up and attempted to tidy himself up. She stood up, her legs still a little shaky, and carefully wiped lipstick from the corner of his mouth.

He flashed her a grin, "Thanks."

He dug in his bag and produced a pen and paper. She watched him as he wrote something down before he handed the piece of paper to her.

"Here. My number."

She took it and looked at him again as she remembered something, "I don't know your name."

He laughed, "I forgot about that."

He took the paper back, jotted something down and handed it back to her.

"Im Changkyun?"

"That's me. And you?"

"L/n Y/n."

He smiled, "Nice to make your acquaintance."

She let loose a laugh. It sounded almost ludicrous to hear him introduce himself after having just been inside of her. He'd definitely already made her acquaintance.

He gave her a lingering kiss, "I hate to leave you but I need to go."

She nodded, "It's okay. I should get going too."

He closed her fingers on the piece of paper he'd given her, "If you need someone to love you while he's gone, you've got my number."

She nodded and pressed a kiss to his lips before she could stop herself, "Thank you."

He nodded and smiled at her before leaving her alone in the library.

She left the room ten minutes after him just to make sure nobody saw them together and made her way to the main hall after tidying herself up again as best she could.

Her husband had his arm around her with a forced smile the second she entered the room again.

If he noticed her new makeup, slightly smudged lipstick or the lingering scent of another man's cologne on her, he didn't let on.

He still held her in a vice grip and the rest of the evening was just as terrible as the first half but somehow the memory of Changkyun's touch and words distracted her and made it just a little more bearable.

A/N: I do have a part 2 planned for this but I'm not sure if I'm going to write it or not.

A reminder that requests are open. Thank you for your support♡

[drawbauchery]

The Second Session

fic by cartoons-tothemoon

���So, let’s review, last session, we broke you down to many of your core traits and neuroses.”

“Thanks for reminding me, it’s not like I have the capacity to remember last week.” Skipper muttered.

“Well, now we’re here to build you back up, and work from that onwards.” Hans said. He had his hands folded plainly in his lap, and he’d changed the lighting in the office. Skipper hated it. He hated having to sit across from a smug as shit Hans as he waited calmly and quietly for Skipper to begin talking, with that terrible, blinding light that gave off a strangely clinical feel that makes him more uneasy than anything else. He wonders if Hans would let him sleep for the hour he was meant to spend here. Sure, he’d be paying $35 for a nap, which was crazy in of itself, but he knows from experience that sometimes all you need is a good nap to be a functioning person again.

“I’m not in the position to really diagnose you with anything, and even if I was, I’d still need more time to get to know your mind before I could really prescribe anything for your current conditions.”

“Conditions?”

“Plural. Like children trying to sneak into a cineplex in a trench coat, what was once one turned out to be two or more disorders standing on top of one another’s shoulders. Bouts of aggression and insomnia tied to intense paranoia, a complex that comes from being a leader, and a fear of depending on others. Abandonment issues, repression-“

Skipper waved his hands in a forceful sort of wave, “yes, thank you. Just tell me what to do about it already.”

“What?”

“Just fix me already.” Skipper seemed frustrated. “You’re the one who thinks I’m broken in the first place, the only reason I’m here in the first place is to prevent any future surprise tea parties.”

Hans sighed. They were barely even 5 minutes in, and Hans just knew he was going to be spending the rest of the session constructing arguments for statements Skipper constructed in seconds.

“If this was only to prevent any more…surprise visits from moi, then I would’ve been fine with just the first session. And I think you know that.”

He did. He did know that. Hans suggested the idea of a second session, and so did Skipper, in the way that you do when you’re bonding with people you have a rather hostile history with. No commitment was really stated, which left the ball in Skipper’s court, but what was he supposed to do after that thorough deconstruction, let it simmer in his soul for the rest of his known life?

He couldn’t even let it simmer for a whole week at this point, after all, he was already considering asking RICO of all people if he was too arrogant a leader and intentionally pushing people away.

RICO.

It made sense at the time, Kowalski would question where he was learning such jargon and be able to draw conclusions based on his recent absence, and Private would do nothing but validate him. Because he was just that nice, he supposed.

“Second, it’s not about being “broken” or “fixed” or what have you, the fact of the matter is that you have the most high-stress job in your already high-stress career. As much as I enjoyed our battles in the fish markets of Denmark, it’s not like the experience hasn’t done something to me, or you for that matter.”

Hans sighed, he was already just so exhausted by this…session. He’d even revealed that he too shared in mental health struggles if Skipper was willing to pick up the scraps left behind for him. Skipper looked a little surprised, sure, but fell back into an understood complacency sooner than later.

Was this the closest they were ever going to get to a true understanding of the other?

He supposed he’d have to take it.

“And lastly, I can’t tell you how to “fix” yourself. I’m a therapist, not a life coach. I’m not here to give advice, I’m here to examine your trauma, and give you a better perspective on how to move forward. However, I can’t take those steps for you. You kinda have to figure out a lot of those things on your own.”

Skipper looked positively moody about this, but less in a spoiled, petulant five-year-old sort of way, and more…accepting of it. He looked tired, and less because it was barely just a quarter past 1. It was an abstract tiredness, one not born of resting or restlessness, but a thing all its own.

Skipper sighed. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“This is a timely process for a reason, Skipper. Many people can spend years in therapy trying to handle these exact issues.”

“I didn’t realize this was a life sentence in the making.” Skipper muttered.

God, this was already such a process. Hans could tell that Skipper couldn’t stand the vagueness of this all. He was an action guy, he wanted an easy solution of doing task A to accomplish thing B, and achieve reward C, and go on with his life.

No, not even an easy solution. A clear solution. Skipper was a problem solver. All of this was already so abstract, and he didn’t even know if he was so vehemently against this whole process just because it was him, or just because it was therapy at all. He even had a client who after a bad experience with a therapist in middle school decided to turn her sessions into stand-up, just because she was already so familiar and so bored with the process.

Maybe that’s what he needed to channel. Therapy in of itself was at the best of times uncomfortable and at the worst of times boring. He was already dealing with a high energy, high stress client, who was uncomfortable as all hell with being there. If he put him back into a comfortable situation, he may or may not get something out of him, and if he doesn’t, at the very least make him more comfortable with spending time with him at all, off the clock, at least.

“What do you like to do, Skipper? In your free-time?”

Skipper eyed him suspiciously. “Uh, why?”

“I’m trying something. Trust me here.”

That could’ve been phrased SO much better, from nemesis to nemesis, but Skipper seemed willing in the moment to run with that trust. “I like working on my combat capabilities, driving around, sometimes I watch TV and movies, I help Private bake when he feels like it, I nap, I gamble…”

Skipper seemed to be drawing a blank for whatever reason. Surely, he had things he did in his free time, right? It wasn’t like he was ALWAYS on the clock, he just never really thought of certain periods of time as…free. What even counted as free-time anyhow? Was it just time that wasn’t spent doing other things? Under that definition, no time was free.

“Can I say this to you as both a friend, an enemy, and somebody who’s known you for quite a few years at this point?”

Skipper nodded hesitantly.

“Jesus Christ, you need some hobbies.” Hans stated, matter of factly. “Working on your “combat capabilities,” as you put it, seems to be a literal constant considering your job as…however your job is defined, so it’s less play and more work than anything else. You mentioned helping Private bake “when he feels like it,” and I wouldn’t exactly call napping a hobby, or gambling a healthy one.”

Skipper shrugged. It’s not like “Stomp the Wombat” ever left the confines of the lair, anyhow.

“It just feels like you don’t have a lot of things you do just for yourself, you know? Driving around and watching TV are the only hobbies that feel wholly your own, something you don’t do for work or for others. Keep in mind that you can keep doing these things you enjoy, but perhaps you should find other things for yourself. Like an instrument, or a cooking class.”

“I told the boys that I joined a bowling league just to be here.”

“And did that seem believable enough for you to do to be here?”

His silence told Hans everything, but not the literal everything of Skipper “going to bed” at 8 just to climb through his window at 12:30, shimmy down the fire escape, and walk to Hans’s office.

But he probably could tell anyhow.

Of course, this kind of put a blight on Hans’s plans to make Skipper more comfortable while being here, and as he told him such, Skipper proceeded to lay down on the couch. Hans couldn’t tell the exact reason for the action, but it did seem to be a point of exasperation for him.

“Well, damn, sorry I “foiled your plot” to make myself comfortable in the den of the beast.”

“Skipper, you insult me. You really think I’d decorate my den with wooden sailboats? Absolutely criminal.”

“You seem to forget that.” He muttered. Hans ignored it.

“Although the hobby talk didn’t exactly lead where I thought it could…It did lead me elsewhere.”

“Goddamn it.”

“What skill have you always wanted to learn? What’s something that you’ve wanted to try for just, so long, and never got the chance to?”

Skipper began to pick at his lip. This whole talk already made him nervous, but now what was he supposed to say? That he figured he’d be in the back of a truck with is hand hanging out the taillight since he was 14, for whatever reason, so he didn’t even bother considering his top 3 colleges, let alone any future ambitions?

Still, if he was quiet for too long, either Hans would judge him, or he’d render his lips a bloody mess, and that’d be a whole different thing to deal with.

“…Archery sounds fun.” He said. Hans nodded.

“That’s interesting. It’s closely related to your pre-established interests but it’s closer to a sport now than something to be used in an actual combat situation, which sort of allows it to be separated from your work.”

Skipper nodded as well, allowing Hans to believe that that was his thought process from the start, and more of just curious to see if he could shoot a flame off a candle like Annie Oakley.

“You mentioned you liked baking with Private. Do you like the idea of baking itself, or just doing it with another person?”

“Food is meant to be shared?” Skipper seemed to be asking, but also stated in a very definitive way. “It’s a process. It’d be weird not to help in the process.”

Hans pulled his hand away from Skipper’s mouth, where a few small cuts were beginning to form. “If you’d like to have a session where we did a low-stress activity you wanted to do, and we talked while doing so, I think it’d put you in the best conductive environment possible to actually combat the problems that seem so visible to me. This was a good first development, though. I just don’t know if I can expect on accidental issues to identify and attack every time.”

Hans sighed and got up from his chair to stare out the window. Skipper didn’t know why he did this, outside of being a dramatic bitch, but it got him to look anyhow.

“It’s so incidental, many people struggle with balancing work and life as is, but this could easily be one of the main causes of your paranoia, as well as causing a level of detachment and depersonalization, which relates to how you relate to others.”

And well, damn. What was Skipper supposed to say to that?

“Our time’s almost up.” Hans said, checking his watch. Skipper was coming to realize how strange time in therapy was. It simultaneously felt like hours and seconds passing all at once. Perhaps it was because there were no clocks, like a casino. Or maybe it was because going to therapy at 1 in the morning didn’t exactly give you a sun to follow in terms of time. Hans handed Skipper a weird sort of rack with string on it, along with some tissues.

“It’s a loom. Fidget with something that won’t bleed for the next five minutes, if you would.”

Skipper glared at him for the snide comment, but Skipper didn’t exactly put it back where Hans had stored it originally. Picking at the strings inanely didn’t feel as satisfying as his usual fidgets, but it would work until he lost focus and the skin had time to heal.

“I’m giving you three assignments until our next session.” Skipper would’ve originally rolled his eyes at the idea of homework, but there was something that felt already strange about this session. Last session, he was so thoroughly antagonized and owned in such a way that his entire psychological history had been exposed, but this made last session feel like…a misstep. It was almost like Hans was trying to give the rug back to Skipper after it had already been so unceremoniously swept away from him.

He seemed as unsure about this as he was, he even confided about the state of his own mental health, something he probably wasn’t supposed to do. Which, honestly, made Skipper feel better about the whole thing. He didn’t like being guided, and as much as he detested having to do this whole thing with Hans in particular, the idea of having to figure out a stranger at the same time they were trying to figure out him sounded like a nightmare. More than this already was.

The whole session felt off, sure, but it wasn’t as off as it could’ve been, and he knows it could only be worse.

“I want you to begin researching archery, if you really want to pursue it as a hobby, you should try to learn what you can about it before jumping in and figuring out it isn’t what you thought it was.”

“I want you to pay a compliment to each of your team members in a casual way, this’ll strengthen your bonds with them, in a way that allows you to affirm that you appreciate them, as much as they appreciate you.”

Okay, that sounded like hippie nonsense, but who was he to judge at this point.

“And finally, I want you to pick out a recipe to prepare during our next session.”

“Wait, what?”

“A recipe. Something that’ll take less than an hour. I have a friend who’d give me access to their kitchen in the middle of the night, so we’ll be on neutral ground, and I’m sure it’ll be more believable to your “boys” that if you really are doing something in the middle of the night, that you have physical proof of it. Considering how weirdly secretive you are already, the idea you covered up secret cooking lessons with a bowling league doesn’t sound too far-fetched.” Hans was muttering at this point. All these things answered questions he figured he’d have, but nothing that helped with where he was NOW.

“I know it’s a weird idea, but the clients who have had the chance to do different, vaguely active things during our sessions tend to be more open and honest with me about things that they’re worried about, things that they struggle with, and they can make for more engaging sessions where you actually take in what I’m telling you, and makes it less of a lecture.” Hans sighed. “If you hate it, we never have to try anything like that again, but, I do really want you to give it a try. This is a two-way street, I can only give as much as I myself get. I just got lucky this week.”

Skipper stopped strumming the loom.

“Text me the address.” He said, and Hans would have burst with joy if such a thing was appropriate in present company, until he realized.

“I…don’t have your number?”

“Oh, no, session’s over! Wow, how did the time fly? Guess you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself, what a swell talk we had, doc,” Skipper yelled as he headed out the door.

“Pay at the front desk!” Hans yelled back before relaxing into his chair. Skipper was never going to be an easy client to deal with. Maybe he wouldn’t ALWAYS dance around the issues at hand, but he was never going to REALLY come clean about it. There may be things they never talk about, the same way Hans did.

And that was fine. Maybe it made what little he did learn all the more rewarding. Maybe it made what little he learned all the more meaningless if Skipper ever reached a point of complete and utter honesty with him, a fantasy he knew would never see come to light.

But who was to say, really?

It was all a matter of time.

After all, this was only the second session.

(Ahh! I can’t believe I didn’t post another fic for a whole! Month! I think it’s just because I didn’t really know what to do for the second session, and I think you can kinda tell, considering it’s not like Hans knows what to do either. Do you guys really want a whole fic series about Skipper going to therapy? I have no idea. It’s pretty fun, though. I don’t know how Hans became a therapist, either, but I guess that’s just what the dude does now. By the way, the client who turned her therapy sessions into stand-up comedy? That was just me in high school with my mandated therapist. I once gave a funeral to a squeaky toy I broke in the middle of the session. It was simultaneously so sad and so funny at the exact same time.

This fic will be up on my ao3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadstrangerthings, as soon as @drawbauchery posts it!)

[katierosefun]

hello lovely! i'm here from your twt ♡ would you like to write “I loved you long before you knew.” juwon/dongsik?

thank you for the prompt!! // from these prompts

dong sik knows that his han joo won is someone who puts his all into anything he puts his mind to. it’s both one of his most frustrating and endearing qualities, something that dong sik treasures on most days and laughs at on others. that is why he laughs right now, because joo won’s growing increasingly more persistent in this guessing game of his.

he’s straddling dong sik right now: legs on either side of him, hands interlocked with his own. joo won moves their hands lazily from side to side, although whether he’s doing that on purpose or not, dong sik doesn’t know. he finds joo won mostly lost in thought, dark eyes focused on the space above their bed.

“was it on our first date?” joo won asks. “when we went to the water…”

“seriously?” dong sik snorts. “that’s way too late in the game.”

frowning, dong sik asks, “was that when you—”

“definitely not,” joo won says.

that’s reassuring. it would have been awkward if joo won decided he loved dong sik right when they were first dating. a whole year of the two of them first meeting, then arguing, then…everything. then dancing around the subject of together, whatever together meant to them at the time, and then this…dong sik would hope that joo won loved him at least earlier than their first time by the water. (even though it was a lovely time. joo won had been his usual overdressed self, and they hadn’t known what to talk about at first, because did they even know how to be casual, but joo won was the first one to take dong sik’s hand, and they went from there.)

“was it at jae yi’s?”

“be more specific,” dong sik hums.

“chief nam’s death anniversary,” joo won clarifies.

dong sik looks up at joo won. the younger man’s face softens a little bit. under the warm glow of the nightstand lamp, han joo won is all shades of home: muted white sleeping shirt hanging off his broad frame and black hair gently swooping down from when he’d dried it and pink mouth set in that determined way of his.

“definitely before then,” dong sik says.

joo won frowns. “then…not when i—”

he doesn’t say it. dong sik doesn’t expect him to, but he knows what he’s asking. he feels it in the way joo won’s hands suddenly clench, the way joo won automatically seems to hold him tighter whenever they stumble over that particular memory.

dong sik squeezes joo won’s hands back. i’m right here.

“no,” he says quietly. “long before that.”

“then…”

“aigoo, so curious, our inspector han?” dong sik asks, and when joo won frowns, he smiles in return.

“come here,” he says gently, tugging at joo won’s hands.

joo won doesn’t move at first, but dong sik pulls again, and the younger man sinks against dong sik, causing him to “ooph” in surprise.

“yah, you’re heavier than you think you are,” dong sik grunts.

“sorry,” joo won says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. he’s covering dong sik completely, his face buried in the crook of dong sik’s neck and mouth already smiling—dong sik just knows it is because he feels it—but joo won starts to roll away anyways.

“no,” dong sik says. he holds onto joo won tight. “i was only teasing.”

joo won huffs out a sigh. it tickles at dong sik’s neck.

“then…” joo won adjusts against dong sik. “was it—”

“joo won-ah.” dong sik rests his hand on the back of joo won’s neck. “believe me. i loved you long before you knew.” his fingers curl against the strands of joo won’s hair, and his heart swells in affection at how joo won closes his eyes. how he curls back over dong sik, absolutely content.

“but…”

“ah, this guy…” dong sik looks at joo won the best he can in their position.

joo won’s dark eyes are solemn and soulful, taking him in with a gravity that dong sik doesn’t think he’ll be getting out of any time soon.

“do you really need to know?” dong sik asks.

joo won hesitates, then nods.

dong sik smiles. he tugs joo won close and quietly, quietly tells him.

when he does, joo won stares in confusion.

then: “don’t joke with me.”

“is it that hard to believe?” dong sik asks.

joo won doesn’t say anything. he just stares down at dong sik for a bit longer, and dong sik’s wondering—foolishly—if joo won’s really having this much difficulty thinking that he might have fallen in love so early on (even if he hadn’t known it back then), but then—

but then joo won kisses dong sik, and dong sik laughs into it.

[yea-baiyi]

in an attempt to get myself thinking about cql again, i tried combining it with my current other hyperfixation by generating a figure skating au and i’m SCREAMING thinking about this

i’m just going to stream-of-consciousness all of my ideas into this post because these ideas are so good i am going INSANE

- wwx inspired by kostornaia my beloved — strong skating skills base (because of his parents, then after his parents die he goes to jiang fengmians skating school which puts him in competitive contention. ) jumps are decent but a bit all over the place bc coaches don’t prioritise him, incredible performance charisma, endearing personality but undervalued by federation + school

- wwx could do kostotwilight. and he would. the mental image of wwx doing the twilight ending pose has been haunting me ALL DAY. wwx could do harley quinn. he could do new york new york. he could do departure. tell me i’m WRONG

- i don’t have a solid inspo for lwj but he’s DEFINITELY like those male skaters with the THICK thighs and gorgeous knee bend. i’m picturing glittery outfits, lyrical programmes, strong ss. but maybe low on interpretation. anyway he and wwx are rivals for gold whenever they compete. when wwx drops out he’s undeniable gold.

- lxc style inspired by yuna kim. the excellent all-rounder but kind of quiet/detached from it all. retires after 2 olympics and considered undeniable goat but also out of the competitive scene — on that note, nmj as mao asada??? contemporary and rival with yuna kim, less consistent and less perfect technique, but with higher value jumps and keeps going at it for longer

- i pictured a twin jades side-by-side cantilever and almost burst into tears on the street. like lan brothers would defo have strong core focus stunts. cantilevers. spirals. spread eagles. their edges are so deep i am sweating.

- anyway jiang cheng having a sort of sasha trusova/nathan chen ferocity, strong jumper but ALL over the place, skating skills not too strong but it’s something he wants to work on. later in his career his costumes become increasingly sparkly and scary looking

- jiang yanli/jin zixuan as chock/bates, this one had me cracked up ALL morning,,, nepotism babies, jyl as madison chock aka pretty and girlboss but CANNOT skate, jzx the stronger skater but simps for jyl. fans hate them for being overscored but nobody dares to say anything bc all their fave skaters ADORE jyl. diana davis energy tbh.

- yunmeng trio doing sbs axel jumps like yuzu with virtuemoir……..

- SIDENOTE that video of sasha trusova at rusnats jumping up and down and around diana davis before grabbing her for hugs is wwx with lwj.

- ON THAT NOTE, wq/wn as sui/han. just because i need wen ning to lift wwx like evan bates lifted yuzuru hanyu. lwj is seething with jealousy.

- nie huaisang as satoko miyahara. best costumes and performance and pcs but criminally underscored and overlooked. no da-ge i will NOT fix my jumps :)

- wwx and nhs doing kaori and mai’s besties programme…….

- i actually have a whole plot for this already fully formed PLEASE i don’t know what to do with it???? i’m driving myself INSANE

- i don’t know even know if writing it would be worth it because i don’t know if i can convey the pure emotion that comes with WATCHING skating and attaching my affection for these characters TO such a moment

- like bro imagine wwx hitting that long spiral. like. with the lights. the music beats. i don’t know how to explain this i’m HYSTERICAL. i could supply gifs but it would not convey the experience.

- i can’t keep doing this i’ve driven myself insane over this dumb au that i don’t even know what to do with please send help or suggestions

[honouraryweasley12]

In The Blue Light (M / NSFW)

I know this is different than what I usually write, but I had this idea and wanted to write it.

While at Shell Cottage, Ron and Hermione's relationship flourishes, but only one person truly witnesses it. On one fateful night, she gets to fully experience their love. Warning: AU/smut with Ron/Hermione and Ron/Hermione/Luna.

Also on FF.n

It had started with a nightmare.

Hermione's screams shattered the silence, the first night at Shell Cottage. Luna bolted upright and jumped out of bed, attempting to comfort her friend. Not a second later, Ron barrelled into the room, with Bill, Fleur, Harry, and Dean hot on his heels.

The blonde witch quietly backed away as Ron gathered Hermione up in his arms, gently rocking her as she cried into his chest. His whispered words and gentle touches soothed her, enough for her to lift her head and mumble an apology to the others.

After several reassurances from the group that her apologies were unnecessary, Harry and Dean returned to their makeshift beds in the living room, while Bill and Fleur lingered, exchanging looks as they watched the youngest Weasley brother.

Bill awkwardly cleared his throat. "Ron?"

"I'm not leaving her."

A flash of frustration crossed Bill's face. "It's not appropriate—"

Fleur touched him gently on his forearm, causing the words to die in his throat.

"I zink Hermione needs him here."

Ron stared imploringly at his brother, before looking back down at the exhausted girl clutching on to him.

"Fine, you can stay in here. If Mum ever hears about this, she'll have my head."

"Thank you."

After a silent moment, Fleur addressed Luna. "We can move you to Ron's bed in ze living room."

Before she could answer, Ron spoke up again, his whispered words echoing in the quiet room. "You're fine to stay here if you want, Luna. I know you haven't had a decent place to sleep in months."

"What if she has another nightmare?" Bill nodded at Hermione, who had dozed off.

Luna watched as Ron slid under the covers and cradled Hermione against him, the flush of his cheeks in Bill's wandlight evident, despite the fierce gaze of protectiveness settled onto his features.

"I don't think she will," Luna replied, giving Ron a wide smile, her large eyes shining.

He nodded in acknowledgement as he tucked the blanket around Hermione's prone form.

Fleur's hand slid down into Bill's. "Let's go to bed, my love. It's been a long day." She paused, shifting her focus to her brother-in-law. "Make sure Hermione takes those potions when she wakes up, they'll help with ze pain."

"Thanks, Fleur."

As the door closed behind them, Luna lifted her borrowed wand and recited a silencing spell on the room, before getting back into bed.

"We might need something a bit stronger than that," Ron remarked, before picking up Pettigrew's wand and firing off some of the spells they had been using around the tent.

Luna could feel the slight hum of the protections and was impressed. "That is rather advanced magic, Ronald."

He flushed again, gazing at Hermione. "Learned from the best. Thanks for trying to help her when she woke up."

"You love her, don't you?" She asked simply, as if she was asking him about the weather or his favourite colour.

A younger Ron Weasley may have sputtered or tried to deflect his feelings for the bushy-haired witch in his arms. But he couldn't deny it any longer.

"I do."

"You should tell her then. I wish I told my Dad more often."

Ron paused. "What if she doesn't—"

"She does."

Ron let out a slow breath as if he'd been holding it in for years. Perhaps he had been.

"I will. I'll tell her." Ron's weighty words hung in the air. "I want to tell her."

She glanced over and it seemed like he was deep in thought, staring up at the ceiling as Hermione slumbered on his chest.

"Good night, Ronald."

"Yeah... Good night, Luna."

~*~

A few days passed at Shell Cottage, its inhabitants all in a state of recovery. Hermione's nightmares had halted, Ron's presence the perfect medicine for her ailments. His anxious energy was palpable at dinner that night, prompting Hermione to question if he was alright. All he did was smile.

Luna could tell from the look on his face that he'd made a decision. He was going to tell Hermione. The fact that he was so confident for such a momentous revelation marked a definite change. She remembered the sad look on his face prior to his Quidditch matches and how nervous he'd been back then—this was entirely different.

As they settled down to sleep that night, they followed their usual procedures of locking the door and putting up the strong protection spells, just in case. The lights were barely out when Ron and Hermione bade Luna a good night, their nervous, haggard breathing filling the room.

They were waiting for Luna to fall asleep before proceeding. She spotted them sitting across from each other on their bed, the blue light of the moon illuminating them. Ron reached up and caressed Hermione's cheek, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, his motions delicate.

Luna turned and feigned sleep, settling down and masking any attempts at movement. She could feel their eyes on her back for a moment. She didn't mean to pry, but she was intrigued to see what happened.

Her mum had been a powerful witch, especially when it came to emotional magic. It was an extremely rare trait and something that had been passed down to Luna. It was why she was so perceptive when it came to the people around her. At that moment, it felt to her like their protective little bubble was crackling with wild energy.

She could hear their hushed tones and she attuned her ears to the whispers, something she'd become accustomed to doing while being held captive.

"Hermione, there's something I need to tell you. Something I've been wanting to tell you for years."

"What is it, Ron?"

He let out a deep breath. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Luna turned quietly, but they didn't notice. She felt as though waves of heat were enveloping her, and she smiled. The intensity of their emotions overwhelmed her as tears ran down her cheeks.

She watched as they embraced, holding onto each other tightly, and she was hit by another wave, her entire body tingling.

Finally, their faces drew ever closer, the anticipation palpable. Their lips met in a tentative kiss and Luna shut her eyes tightly, basking in the power of their feelings, finally declared and reciprocated. She hadn't felt such a thing since before her mum passed and she revelled in it, surrounded and encompassed by love. She could hear them talking again as she drifted off in a state of absolute bliss.

~*~

Ron was typically gone in the morning, eager to help Bill and Fleur and not lose the privilege of staying in the girls' room every night.

It gave Hermione and Luna a chance to talk, more than they ever had.

Luna had never had many friends before, especially girls, but with everything happening at Hogwarts, the DA had grown. Aside from Ginny, Luna had found herself forging friendships with several others, including Hannah Abbott and even Lavender Brown. She was thrilled to now have this chance with Hermione.

Though she and Hermione had very different viewpoints, these morning talks really helped them both. Hermione learned about what was happening at school and beyond, and though she couldn't say exactly, Luna got the impression that Hermione, Ron, and Harry were working on something important and dangerous. She was relieved to hear her Dad was still alive to their knowledge.

As they opened up to one another, they discovered they too had several things in common, including their love for innocent creatures, their hunger for knowledge, and fear for their parents wellbeing.

"I'm so sorry we blew up your house," Hermione apologized again one morning. "We had to escape and keep up Ron's cover."

"It's rather beautiful..." Luna added thoughtfully.

"What is?"

"How much you love one another."

Hermione blushed. "Is it that obvious?"

"He told me he loved you the first night we were here."

"He did?"

Luna nodded. "I fancied Ronald as well, but I've known for years he loved you."

Hermione sputtered. "What?"

"Well, though he can be mean, he is handsome, funny, and brave. But back in fourth year, before his first match. I saw you kiss him on the cheek."

"That was just for encouragement!"

"You didn't see his face after, did you? He looked as happy as I've ever seen. Shocked, but thrilled. That's when I knew he had already given his heart away."

"Took him long enough to realize it."

"It seems that boys can be rather daft sometimes." Luna leaned in, as if revealing a secret. "Too easily influenced by Whackspurts, I suppose."

Just then, the door opened and Ron poked his head in, his hair still disheveled from sleep. The two witches looked at each other and burst out laughing, much to Ron's confusion.

"Er, breakfast is on the table. I have the last of your potions ready, love."

He looked panicked for a second at the endearment that slipped out, so he turned quickly and closed the door. Hermione and Luna couldn't help sharing another fit of giggles.

~*~

Something changed that night. After they had declared their love, they had spent time talking about everything. Years of secret longing, hidden jealousies, and explanations of action and inaction could finally be shared.

It was like they needed this catharsis to move their relationship forward. Though it wasn't as intense as before, their emotional energy had still been like a warm blanket to Luna, hearing the apologies and shared kisses as they talked things through.

Now that they'd had their say, it was like a weight had been lifted. In the pale light, they reached for one another. Unsure kisses turned increasingly passionate, their whispered moans of pleasure causing Luna to shiver in delight from the sensations in the room.

She watched them snogging deeply, before Ron's mouth travelled down Hermione's neck, paying special attention to the fading scar Luna knew was there. The loving couple held each other, hands roaming as they consumed one other, sometimes slow and exploratory, sometimes hungry and desperate.

Each touch, each caress sent a shockwave of heat towards Luna. She closed her eyes and let each wave wash over her, lulling her to sleep once again.

~*~

Luna knew it was inevitable that things would move quickly between the two of them now. There was nothing holding them back.

A few nights later, their cocoon was again imbued with an energy unlike anything Luna had ever felt. The air felt thick and her mind felt hazy. As she lay in bed, she felt a whoosh of more spells being performed. This time, however, it was just around their bed, a bubble within a bubble.

She surreptitiously glanced over, only to see their bed perfectly empty. If she couldn't feel them so strongly, she never would have guessed someone was there. It was remarkable.

When she was down in that cellar, she'd spent hours asking questions and listening to Mr. Ollivander, taking in his teaching. Not only was his knowledge of wandlore incredible, but it extended to magic in general.

He'd often talk about how old magic was forgotten, yet incredibly powerful. He'd lament that people had forgotten the fundamentals about how spells worked, how intricate and fascinating they were.

One of his lessons struck her suddenly, his craggy words echoing in her mind.

"Ms. Lovegood, do you know why it's so difficult to break protective spells? Most witches and wizards nowadays think that such spells create a single barrier, and try to break them by puncturing through with a single strong effort. What they don't understand is that these spells consist of different layers. Rather than a puncture, they should try and peel away the layers, one by one until they get through. It takes far more time and effort to do it this way, but it's the only way. That is what renders defensive magic so effective."

Luna was practically shaking, their feelings incredibly strong in the room. Her curiosity, as it often did, got the better of her as she lifted her wand, reciting the incantations the old wandmaker had taught her.

She could feel each layer stripping away, until she could see them, almost as if looking at them through a slightly foggy window. Their voices were muffled, yet unmistakable.

She could see Ron laying between Hermione's legs, his long hair falling in front of his eyes. His arms were posted up, as he hovered above her, a sheen of nervous sweat shining across his bare back.

He was looking at Hermione like she was the most cherished thing he could possibly imagine.

"Are you sure, love? There's no going back after this."

Hermione's hand reached up and caressed his cheek, before combing his ginger locks out of his face.

"There is no one else I would ever want this with, Ron. Only you. I love you."

"Fuck, Hermione. You're it for me. I love you so much."

He leaned down and captured her lips, the kiss reinforcing their whispered words. The tears leaking from Hermione's eyes, staring at Ron with such immense love, shone in the moonlight.

Luna's own tears ran down her pink cheeks, in awe of the beauty she was witnessing and experiencing before her. She was buffeted by a continuous stream of raw energy, every nerve in her body vibrating.

"Please go slow, love."

"Anything you want."

Luna's conscience overrode her curiosity, and she threw up her own spell to block her vision and hearing. They deserved privacy for their first time making love.

It didn't block out the power of their coupling, and Luna could feel it in her very core. She nearly cried out—it was as if an emotional explosion had gone off. Such was the desire emanating from the bed on the other side of the room.

Luna was drenched with sweat and panting, but she felt their love, and this next step they were taking together. Her cheeks hurt from grinning, the sheer joy filling her completely as she drifted off.

~*~

The first couple of nights after they'd made love were generally the same. Luna would bid them a good night and turn away from them.

After several long minutes, she'd feel the familiar whoosh of their additional spells being cast, and she knew they had sought out an additional level of privacy.

The welcomed push of their emotions would start building, like the feeling of an upcoming thunderstorm, a tenseness in the air awaiting the inevitable.

After several more minutes of buildup, Luna would grab her wand and again wipe away a few layers, until they could both be seen and heard. It was fascinating to watch how naturally they fell into a rhythm.

Their kisses and caresses led to more frenzied snogging, until they were hastily unbuttoning buttons, the pile of clothes quickly growing on the floor.

There was such tenderness in their actions, always touching and never separating. They talked more than she would have thought, constantly reassuring and seeking permission to touch and taste.

She watched as Ron sunk deep inside Hermione, their shared moans reverberating off the protections. They were in perfect sync, in every way possible. It was like a work of art.

Luna could feel their combined feelings, a perfect match of need and want. Their love flowed around her, the gentleness and curiosity of this new phase of their relationship added a new dimension to the energy surrounding her. It was richer and more layered than ever before, as they connected on a different level.

Luna was shocked to also feel something she hadn't felt since the previous summer—arousal. It was impossible not to feel something watching them have sex before her eyes. Her breathing sped up as she watched their bodies together, before turning away. She closed her eyes and drifted off, a smile on her face.

~*~

If the days following Ron and Hermione's first time were about exploration and tenderness, it was obvious to Luna that things had now shifted toward pure lust for one another. The air crackled with energy and want, and she felt it with every fibre of her being.

It must have been difficult for the two of them to suppress their desires for so long. Desires which were now pouring out of them nightly. Desires which rendered the air thick with aching.

Ron slowly kissed down Hermione's stomach, until he reached that spot between her legs. Hermione's head was thrown back in utter ecstasy, her muffled moans heard through the half-broken spell. Hermione's fingers were delving into Ron's hair as he continued pleasuring her with his mouth.

Luna felt those pangs of arousal once again, her hips slowly rotating in time with Hermione's.

Time had been so difficult to determine when down in that cellar, she had only just realized that she'd missed her own birthday in February, her coming of age. She didn't feel any differently, even if the world regarded her as such. She had been exploring her own body for some time, but this was the first opportunity to take care of her needs since before she'd been forced to return to school.

Her pale arm slid into her pajama top, brushing against her pink nipples, her breath quick as she watched Ron's fingers grip Hermione's thighs, ravishing her. Luna pinched a hardened nub between her fingers, watching Hermione's own breasts jiggling as she arched up, screaming out her lover's name as she came.

It was a beautiful sight and sound, which caused Luna to flush. She played with her own breasts as Ron slid up and snogged his girlfriend, their tongues clashing. It was far too erotic, the heat of it blasting Luna and spiking her own desires. She slid a hand past the elastic waistband and found her slick centre.

She rubbed small circles, continuing to observe the two of them. Ron was kissing her neck, allowing her a moment of respite from what was thunderous orgasm. Hermione's chest was still rising and falling.

Ron eventually sat up and slid off the mattress, his large member bobbing obscenely in front of him as he stepped to the end of the bed. Luna's fingers pressed harder and she let out a low groan, the buzz igniting her nerves.

Hermione had turned over and sat on her knees, her face buried in her pillow under a mass of hair. She was at the perfect height for Ron to position himself behind her. He reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking it a few times. Luna's fingers were now moving quickly, waves of pleasure hitting her, the familiar feeling in her core building.

Luna's eyes were now half-closed as Ron guided himself into Hermione, his hands reaching for her hips as he pulled her to him, his groan loud and guttural as he sheathed himself deep. His thrusts started slowly, agonizingly slowly as he teased his love. As his pace increased, Luna's fingers were frantic as she ached for release.

Luna nearly cried out, holding her voice at the last second. Her hips were thrusting under her blanket now as Ron pounded into Hermione, beads of sweat dripping down his freckled chest. Hermione was screaming into her pillow as Ron truly fucked her for the first time, their lust and desire reaching new heights.

Luna's eyes shut as she shuddered on her bed, her whole body writhing as she reacted to everything—the overwhelming magic, her own body as she reached her peak, Ron's grunts as he shot his load, and Hermione's own muffled moans of satisfaction as she came for a second time.

The blonde witch's whole body went limp, in a state of satiation and peace. The smile returned to her face as she heard the other two occupants cuddle up and whisper unbridled declarations of love. She didn't have the power to even reopen her eyes as she fell asleep, content.

~*~

Luna was waiting in the dark, her back turned to Hermione's bed. She tried to quiet her breathing, her ears peeled for the familiar whoosh of the second set of defensive spells that usually accompanied a night in the shared bedroom.

She had witnessed the two of them explore their want over the past few days, their passion for one another infinite. Seeing the various positions and ways they would give and take, sometimes ever so loving, sometimes rutting and animalistic, there was no mistaking the satisfied looks on their faces. But it was nothing compared to the feelings that emanated from their bubble. Feelings which Luna found herself now craving.

Instead of the sound of a spell, she heard a distinctive click and the room was filled with a pulsing bluish light. She held her breath and waited, unsure of what was going on.

"Luna?" Hermione's voice broke the silence. "We know you're awake."

Slowly, Luna turned to face them, her large eyes blinking from the glowing orbs floating near the ceiling. Ron and Hermione were sitting together on the centre of the bed facing her own, their hands entwined.

"Is everything alright?"

Hermione picked up her borrowed wand and recited a spell, causing her bed to widen, taking up a larger portion of the small room, while Ron patted the mattress in front of them. "Why don't you come over here?"

Curious, Luna got out of bed and stepped over, her eyes glowing in the blue light. She carefully sat down in front of them, facing the brunette witch. Hermione waved the wand again, the crashing of the waves outside suddenly muted by the protective spells. The air around them shimmered for a second, and then stillness.

Hermione gave her a kindly smile, causing her to take a deep breath and relax.

"We know you've been watching us. We've known the whole time."

For someone who didn't often worry how others reacted to her, her face started in surprise. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." A tear fell from her eye, sliding down her cheek, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can feel the strength of your love and it's beautiful."

Hermione turned and nodded a confirmation to Ron, before turning back to Luna. "That's what I suspected. We're not mad, not at all." She grabbed the blonde girl's hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

"We were actually wondering if you would like to join us."

Never in a million years did she ever think Hermione Granger would say those words to her. She felt Ron's larger hand gently enclose around hers, completing the circle. The love she felt radiating around her was impossible to ignore, it filled every pore of her body. She wanted to feel that connection even more so than she already had, after everything she'd been through since September.

"I... I'd like that. Are you sure you're both fine with this?"

Hermione and Ron again shared a telling look. "We are, just for tonight."

Luna nodded. "Alright."

Ron spoke up suddenly, surprising the two women. "Just one thing, Luna. I can't... I won't... You deserve to have that with someone else, someone who loves you fully, and I..."

The unspoken words hung in the air and she immediately knew why. "You love Hermione too much to ever be with anyone else completely."

Ron nodded, a look of relief passing along his features that his ramblings had been understood.

"Oh, Ron. I love you so much." Hermione leaned forward and kissed him hard, simultaneously squeezing Luna's hand in reassurance.

As they broke apart, Luna was gazing at them intently. Hermione released Luna's hand in order to bring her own up to Luna's cheek, caressing it gently. Luna closed her eyes enjoying the sensation for a moment, before a soft set of lips pressed to hers. She kissed back, her mouth opening slightly. The mattress shifted under her and she felt a hand tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She deepened the kiss with Hermione as she felt a second set of lips attack her neck. She let out a moan, the sensations overwhelming her. Ron's large, warm hand slid to her back, his fingers splayed as his tongue ran up and down, stopping to worry her earlobe for a second, eliciting another groan.

Hermione broke off the kiss, causing Luna to open her eyes.

"Do you want to stop?"

Luna shook her head, her eyes wide.

Ron turned and captured Hermione's lips, as if in reassurance. Luna felt another wave of their love, amplified by the closeness they shared.

Ron pulled away and there was a moment of indecision, before he leaned forward and gently kissed Luna, his mouth widening slightly as the snog grew more heated. Hermione was squeezing her hand again, as if telling her everything was fine. She was sure the same thing was happening between Hermione and Ron.

She felt a shiver as she kissed him back, their tongues briefly touching. Hermione's hand was now running up and down her arm, her touch electric against the bare alabaster skin.

Ron pulled away and gave her a sheepish grin, which she returned, delighted. Hermione raised her hands to Ron's face and kissed him urgently, again communicating silently that she loved him. The surge of energy was almost too much for Luna, arousal a pressing need. She couldn't help but touch herself through her pajama bottoms.

Hermione spied this, motioning for the younger girl to lie down. They shifted positions so that she was between the two of them, staring at the glowing orbs hovering above.

Hermione's fingers lightly grasped her chin and turned her head, their mouths meeting again in a heated snog.

Ron's hand slid under the hem of her shirt, his heat warming her skin as he rubbed circles on her thin belly, slowly pushing the cloth further up until her small breasts were exposed. His fingers lightly pinched her tightened nipples, causing her to gasp into Hermione's mouth.

Hermione pulled away and the two helped Luna sit up and remove her top completely, her long wavy blonde locks falling behind her as she lowered herself back down to the bed, surrounded by their warmth, her eyes closed.

She felt another wave of pleasurable energy, opening her eyes to find them hovering over her, passionately kissing as if they couldn't stand to be apart for so long.

Their foreheads touched briefly as they turned their attentions back to her.

Ron leaned down, each puff of his hot breath teasing her aching chest. "Hermione seems to like it when I do this."

He lowered his mouth to her pink nipple, causing her to cry out and slide her fingers into his hair. Hermione followed his cue and did the same on her other side.

"Oh my, that's wonderful," Luna moaned. Having the two of them taking care of her was heavenly. She couldn't help but splay her legs wide open and buck up, desperately needing to feel friction.

Ron sensed this and began kissing down her belly toward her heated centre, before being stopped by Hermione.

"I... I'd like to try if you don't mind. I've had a good teacher."

Ron and Luna exchanged a look, and Luna nodded her consent. He moved back up and once again took her nipple between his teeth, gently biting it, causing Luna to yelp. He watched Hermione reposition herself between Luna's legs, before lowering her bottoms and knickers.

All they could see was a bushy head of hair, but Luna practically jumped as Hermione's mouth contacted her sensitive nub, eliciting a groan. The sound was swallowed as Ron crushed his lips to hers, their tongues rolling against one another.

Hermione's fingers were gripping her thighs, her tongue working it's magic, causing her to buck again. Ron's hands and mouth were everywhere, her skin on fire from his touch. She could feel the welcome tension building deep inside her, begging for release.

She pressed herself as closely as she could to Hermione, the brunette witch now concentrating on her clit while sliding two fingers into her, causing her to writhe.

Ron's voice rumbled in her ear as he played with her small tits, pulling and pinching and sending sparks to her core, like she had seen him do to Hermione. "Are you getting close? We want you to feel good. We want to make you come."

The coil was quickly unraveling as she nodded tersely.

Ron nibbled on her earlobe. "Come for us, Luna. Come for us."

It was all too much as she nodded again, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Now." He ordered.

"Ohhhh!" She cried out repeatedly through clipped breaths, her thighs trapping Hermione as she convulsed. Ron's arms wrapped around her as she stilled, her blonde hair matted to her forehead. Hermione joined them and gave her a moment to come down from the high.

"That was incredible. Thank you both." She glanced back and forth between them and gave them a tired but satisfied smile. "Who's next?"

Hermione grinned. "I have an idea. Ron, sit back against the headboard."

He shifted and leaned against the wood, his long legs spread out in front of him. His bulge was prominent, straining against his pants.

Hermione reached for the elastic waistband and pulled down, as Ron lifted his hips. She quickly slid off his pants, his hard cock springing forward.

Luna's eyes widened. "He's quite big, isn't he?"

Ron flushed, his chest and neck a bright pink. Hermione waggled her eyebrows at Luna. "I'm very, very lucky."

Hermione grasped his large shaft, her fingers unable to touch as she slowly stroked him. Luna watched on in fascination, both from Hermione's movements, and Ron's reactions. His eyes were half-closed, and he seemed to be holding back his need to thrust into his girlfriend's hand.

His arousal was evident by the bead of moisture at the tip. Luna leaned forward, tentatively swiping her tongue across the large head.

"Keep going, take him in your mouth. He loves that," Hermione whispered.

Ron fisted the sheets as she continued her explorations with Hermione's encouragement, first running her tongue up and down his thick shaft, then taking his hard cock past her lips, her head slowly bobbing up and down. Hermione grinned wickedly at Ron as she gently pulled Luna's long hair to the side, allowing him to not only feel, but see their friend blowing him.

"Fuck, Luna, keep going. You're fucking good at this."

His approval sent a spike of arousal through her, pushing her to stretch her lips and take even more of him down her throat. She couldn't take all of him, so she pulled away to catch her breath, stroking him as Hermione took her place and began sucking him off.

"Oh, fuck," Ron growled, staring at the two incredible girls pleasuring him. Never in his dreams was something like this a possibility. "I'm getting there."

"Wait."

Hermione lifted her head as Luna stopped wanking him, looking back and forth between them.

"I... I would very much like to see the two of you together, up close."

Ron and Hermione exchanged another look, both eager to be coupled once again. Ron slid down until he was lying flat on the bed, his cock at attention and ready. Hermione quickly moved up and reached between her legs to grasp him, positioning him at her entrance before slowly sinking down, her hands pressing down on his chest.

"Oh, Ron!"

Ron bucked at the sound of Hermione's voice, pushing himself even deeper into his love. Hermione slowly rocked, her eyes closed, establishing a rhythm as they crashed into each other, their actions growing frantic.

The emotions pouring off them were so strong that Luna couldn't help touching herself, watching their lovemaking. Ron saw this and reached for her, practically pulling her to him. He motioned for Luna to swing a leg over and face Hermione as he positioned her over his eager mouth. His fingertips pressed into her pale thighs as his talented tongue sent an electric shiver through her whole body.

Luna's moans broke Hermione out of her trance as she opened her eyes to see the blonde girl riding Ron's face as she rode his cock.

"That's... so... hot," she managed to breath out, before sharing a sloppy, hungry kiss with Luna, the triangle of their connection now complete. The girls were both crying out as the ginger man beneath them redoubled his efforts, taking care of them, as they had done for him.

Hermione was the first to go, her whole body shuddering as she pressed her forehead to Luna's and whimpered Ron's name, over and over as she came hard, but continued bouncing on him, needing to feel him let go as well.

Ron couldn't help holding Luna tighter to him, his tongue buried in her as he thrust erratically into his girlfriend, his groans muffled as he froze and pumped load after load into Hermione, perhaps the hardest he'd ever come in his life. Feeling the power of his release pushed Luna over the edge as she too let out a garbled moan and ground down onto him as she hit her peak, again kissing Hermione as she rode out her orgasm.

Exhausted, they detangled and collapsed together, Ron in the centre, his arms cradling the girls to him. Their breathing was heavy, the only sound in their bubble as they fought to slow down the pounding in their chests. No words needed to be spoken.

As she seemed to always do, Hermione's fingers drifted playfully through the curly ginger hairs on Ron's chest. He watched them rise and fall for several long minutes, the peaks and valleys eventually flattening out. Their eyes met, so full of love for one another. The blonde girl next to them started, again picking up their connection.

She opened her eyes a few minutes later and found them staring at her. She smiled and reluctantly sat up, her golden locks falling around her, the orbs above casting an angelic glow.

Her voice was quiet but filled with a sense of contentment and wonder. "Thank you both. I'll never forget this night."

"Neither will we, Luna."

Hermione grabbed her wand and lowered the second set of protections, the rhythmic swell of the sea once again audible to the three of them.

Luna leaned forward and kissed each of them on the cheek, before gathering her clothes and gliding over to her bed. After a few cleaning charms, she slid under her covers and turned away.

She could hear their soft kisses and loving words as another wave of warmth surrounded her, a smile on her face as she fell into a deep sleep.

[maskedhatter]

Top 10 FanFiction Tropes I love: Star Wars Edition

10) Han constantly making wisecracks at Vader’s expense to the dark lord’s face. 

9) Vader just being annoyed at Han’s existence in general and constantly has to remind himself that Luke will not be happy if the smuggler dies.

8) rogue squadron being chill as fuck and probably the most hilarious squad this side of Tatooine.

7) R2 being the sassy shit who is the only one who gets shit done in these fic’s (and is tired of the constant antics of the Skywalker’s.) 

6) Luke getting into crazy antics whenever he is on an imperial ship.

5) The crew of said imperial ship being frustrated yet slightly endeared to their boss’s wayward rebel son.

4) Luke and co referring to the emperor by a variety of different names (none of which Darth Dad approves of)

3) Luke slipping into the role of rebellious teen when he is around his dad, regardless of being in his 20ies

2) Darth increasingly worried and why-do-you-keep-getting-into-these-hijinks?- Why-can’t-you-just-calm-down-and-join-the-empire-and-stop-giving-me-these-heart-attacks Vader

1) Luke being a sassy sarcastic git (Han really does bring the worst best in him)  and Vader being equally sassy and sarcastic.

[paranoiakrp]

         CITIZEN FILE RETRIEVED: HAN SEOKYUNG …

STATS

name / han seokyung d.o.b. / 03.20.95 age / 24 pronouns / they/them  job / baker for the local cafe societies / n/a   groups / vlog squad › audio tech

WHATS YOUR WEIRD?

seokyung knows it’s odd. like, really odd. the looks they’d get bringing old, rotting bones in from outside back into the orphanage, claiming that they just thought their find was neat. too fascinated with their biology classes; sure, there was always that one kid who thought the frog dissection was way too cool, but seokyung was already othered for reasons and the smile and amazed sigh they breathed when slicing into its preserved flesh did nothing to endear them to their classmates.

later, this grew into a hobby. it started innocently enough, butterflies and dragonflies pinned to a corkboard once they had gotten their own apartment like seokyung had seen in movie after movie. it’s not like they were the one to kill the insects — well, most of the time anyway. there was this one really lovely specimen, but that’s neither here nor there. delicately, they made sure to put a glass box around the lizard skeleton they found in the woods once — it was intact, even! it just spiraled from there, though. now, years later, seokyung’s set aside a special room for their little hobby. delighted, they carefully drag their most recent find into the room, gingerly placing the fox carcass on the sanitized desk. as far as their little passion projects go, she was the largest, and possibly the most challenging, but that’s what’s always fascinated seokyung about taxidermy anyway.

WHATS YOUR STORY?

march 20th, 1995: it’s not often that a kid is born with no parents. not literally, of course, mind you — but still, seokyung couldn’t lie and say they had any bonds of blood of their own. they were told they were left at the doorstep of the police department at the edges of seoul. since their mother had covered herself in a cowl, shadows hid her face, and the police weren’t quite able to track her down. at their current age, seokyung surmised she was a single mother, and they tried their hardest not to resent her, even if it was difficult.

fall, 1998: still a young child, seokyung was adopted by a couple who live in junae. their adoptive mother, sunyoung, would later tell them that despite trying, she had never been able to give birth to a child of her own, and she and their adoptive father, dongsung, had secretly gone to the orphanage, as they had lived long enough in seoul due to dongsung’s work that they could return with a child in tow and laugh and say that the child was their own. seokyung doesn’t know how to feel about the secrecy, even now, though their lips are still sealed.

1999 through 2009: seokyung’s early days were ordinary enough for an orphan in junae. they made friends, traded lunches, did well enough to not stand out but not badly enough to stand out either. for the most part, their life was extraordinarily average despite an incredibly morbid curiosity and fascination with life and death, despite seokyung poking at the snake corpse at the park far too much for comfort.

2009: seokyung grows increasingly uncomfortable. they can’t point on how, or why, or when exactly it starts. they just begin to notice everything feels wrong, and sunyoung cards gentle hands through their hair as they tremble at night. comforting, but somehow wrong. like everything exists a little to the left of where it should. uncomfortable. paranoia inducing. sunyoung and dongsung sharing the truth of their birth doesn’t help, but both of them assure them that they’re still, above all, family.

seokyung bites their tongue and hopes that’ll remain true if they spill their feelings, their wrong body, the wrong mind, uncomfortable existence.

march 20th, 2013: it’s seokyung’s 18th birthday. they know they should be absolutely jumping with joy, but their hands shake all day. a lump is stuck in their throat — everything’s been getting worse and worse, and they’ve decided to come clean now that they’re legally an adult should things go south, but constant what ifs circle through their mind. they’ve made their peace with the stupid adoption thing, feeling incredibly lucky to have their mother and father, but that only made it worse.

they couldn’t stand the thought of losing them.

after their birthday dinner, their favorite dish — sundubu jjigae, their mother’s classic recipe — sat warm in their stomach, but seokyung couldn’t help the queasy feeling. concerned, their father asked them what was wrong. it was clear seokyung was far from happy, especially on such an important day. they each took a hand of seokyung’s, noted how cold and clammy they felt, asked if they were sick.

seokyung was silent for a long time, trying to find their words, bury the tears prickling at their eyes. “do you remember the time you promised me that you’re my family, above all?”

“of course.”

“and that it would never change?”

“and it still won’t, xxxx!”

a pause, seokyung clinging to their hands for any semblance of an anchor.

“stop calling me xxxx.” seokyung said, firmer than they meant. the name felt like dead weight on their tongue, even if it was all they were called their life. “i want….i want you to call me seokyung instead.” it was a name they discovered quietly, their closest friend whispering in the dark of their room whenever they had hung out, their one lighthouse.

the silence was palpable, and seokyung couldn’t help but continue, even if all that came out was a frenzied babble, tears finally pouring out of their eyes, a jumble of theys and botched explanations leaving their mouth, some sort of hope for the best despite an expectation of the worst.

it wasn’t until dongsung softly pulled them in that they stopped talking, a broken sob ripping from their throat at the embrace, their father’s gentle apology washing over seokyung.

“you shouldn’t have had to hide like that,” was all dongsung said, but seokyung still felt the deepest love they ever had.

it was still strange, for a bit, but it was obvious that they were trying. half-awkward offers to paint seokyung’s nails from their mother, over-enthusiastic affirmations from their father, but seokyung appreciated it nonetheless,  a gentle kiss on their cheek the day seokyung decided to come out publicly — graduation — and for the first time in ages, seokyung felt free.

2019: seokyung had a niche carved out for themself, and even though they knew nothing would ever be perfect, seokyung is content. they work at the little cafe, their shifts early in the morning — early enough to watch the sun rise over the mountains as they walked to work, headphones in. their shift was over early enough for them to head home, excited to work on whatever hobby was important that night; their hidden room for taxidermy, or the episodes uploaded to youtube, working audio tech for a local channel focused on the oddities of the town, of which there was plenty. mic held high over seokyung’s head, they followed the hosts into the night on many an occasion, nervous anticipation nipping at their heels night after night.

[jimmerscrackpotideas-blog]

The TrueHoop Podcast is Dead... long live the  Podcast.

I've been thinking about this for a couple days, and I wanted to take some time to put my thoughts into writing. My intention with this essay is to talk about what the TrueHoop Podcast was, why it was ( and  is currently) valuable, and where it can go in the future.

First, what it was. I don't to spend too long here, going on and on about what I loved about the podcast. My love of it has been exhaustively cataloged elsewhere. I'm just going to give a general overview of what was great about it, and why it was different. The podcast started off as a little live video off shoot of the TrueHoop blog, a place where guys like Tom Haberstroh, Amin ElHassan and Ethan Strauss could talk about hoops, and interact with the fans. Soon, due mostly as I understand to video platform hosting problems, the videocast morphed into a podcast.  The content had to change, because direct fan interaction isn't possible in podcast form, which have to be prerecorded and edited. The podcast could have become one of a legion of adequate hardcore basketball podcasts. It did not become that, and it did not become that due mostly to the vision of Jade Hoye, the producer of the podcasts.

What began as a side project blossomed into a rather huge podcast network, with shows varying from hardcore analytics explorations, to coaching interviews, to beat writer insider round-tables, and far beyond that, into the culture of basketball fandom. The Monday and Saturday shows were from a African American and Asian American perspective explicitly, and there was nothing in sports media like them. As a white person I found the shows enriching and educational. I can't imagine how appreciative I'd feel, were I Black or Asian, with my voice so underrepresented in the media, to have a show speaking directly to and for me and my experience. The Friday Mailbag show was mostly for laughs, and really was about the culture of the TrueHoop fandom itself, answering questions from the fans, having fan guests on, giving love advice (tongue in cheek) and mostly just joking around and nonsense.   Jade wasn't afraid to experiment with shows, and would have things like the Ethan and Allie show, a conversation between Ethan Strauss and his basketball novice wife, and it was remarkable and endearing. Allie had  fresh perspective, of highly intelligent person really examining basketball for the first time, bringing into question many assumptions about the game we, as hoop heads take for granted.  

Jade drew on a diverse talent pool. I don't want to turn this into a long listing of names involved in the pod, but Jade has a remarkable ability to recognize talent, and how that talent could fit together. He drew from all over ESPN, and beyond. Some involved in the sports industry, some were just starting out in it and Jade recognized their talent, some not even involved in sports professionally at all and were just funny and intelligent fans. Jade was able to make it work, mixing and matching all of the talent and that's a huge credit to him. I also want to mention Andrew Han here. It's impossible for me, as an outsider, to really judge how much of the network could be attributed to Han, but I do know the NBA Sidecast was his brainchild, and the NBA Sidecast was brilliant and is the future of the broadcast sports. I wish Andrew had spoken more during the podcasts, as I loved almost everything he had to say.

The point is, Jade took this afterthought, little corner of ESPN, and created a community, a real one. Go to /r/TrueHoopPod on reddit and see for yourself. Go look at Jade's twitter timeline, and see the fan interaction. See what the pod meant, to us fans. I don't have any idea how big the numbers on the podcast were, but I know the level to which the fans of the pod were engaged in it. The TrueHoop Pod has a cult following, and that cult was getting bigger and more passionate by the day.

This passionate fanbase has been shell shocked due to the ESPN layoffs this week, laying off many of our podcast favorites, like Ethan Strauss, Justin Verrier, Coach Thorpe and the founder of the TrueHoop brand itself, Henry Abbott. We have been informed that the TrueHoop Podcast is no more, and many of us are angry. I am not one of them. I am not angry, exactly, because I understand the corporate reality that Disney and ESPN are undergoing. I just think, to pull the plug on this sort of content, is really short sighted, and I'll explain why. But first, let me give an overview of the problem I see that ESPN is facing.

ESPN was founded as, and has been, above all else, operated as, a cable broadcasting company. ESPN makes money not just from advertisers, but also from cable and satellite subscriber fees. ESPN charges cable companies I believe 9 dollars per cable subscriber, per month, to have ESPN as part of their cable package. Because ESPN is part of every basic cable package, anyone who has cable or satellite has to pay this fee, even if they never watch ESPN. There are around 100 million cable subscribers right now. ESPN has around 2 million viewers a day. Their peak rating was 28 million, for a college football championship game a few years back. So, even at it's peak, 3/4ths of the cable subscribers pay 9 dollars a month, for a channel they do not watch. That's ~900 million dollars, each and every month, the vast majority of that money coming from people who do not use the service.  ESPN has been able to charge this, because they have the rights to many major sports, and the people who love sports HAVE to have ESPN, so ESPN has been able to strong arm cable providers, because the demand for their product is so high. This has of course been a cash cow for ESPN, and allowed ESPN, as a brand, to explode.

They money ESPN has gotten from Subscriber fees, allows them big outrageous amounts for NFL, NBA, MLB rights. It allows them to spend money on things like EPSN the Magazine, which might not be profitable on it's own, but is good for the brand. It allows it to have a vast online presence. It allowed to try to get into sports blogging, when that was still fresh and new, and caused ESPN to buy the TrueHoop Blog in the first place. ESPN didn't really need to make money off of any of these, money was coming in hard and fast. ESPN did these things, for prestige. To make ESPN have cultural value and expand the brand. To help raise generations of sports fans, to be loyal to ESPN. It has largely been successful. However, there's a huge problem, and the problem is, the entire media paradigm is shifting.

ESPN may have started out as a cable broadcasting company, but it is not anymore, though it may not fully realize it. What it is, is a multi-platform content company. One with a particularly strong brand, but one with an out of date business model. As people increasingly cancel cable, refusing to pay for channels and subsidize networks they don't watch, those subscriber fees are gone forever. That cash cow produces less and less milk, every month, and will continue to produce less for years and years to come. ESPN has paid billions in rights fees to major sports networks, in order to be able to charge those high subscriber fees, but when those fees stop coming in, ESPN is going to have a huge economic crisis. They will be paying out so much many and have no way (as of yet) to recoup those costs. I think ESPN and Disney are going to need to do something drastic and quick. Figure out a way to merge with Netflix or Amazon, or launch their own subscription online platform. ESPN needs to fully embrace that the future of media is online subscription streaming.

Because of that coming economic crisis, ESPN has attempted to become leaner. Parts of the company that weren't profitable that existed just for prestige and brand building, are being cut. These are band aids, compared to the giant gaping wound that is the real issue, but apparently every bit helps. So it is under that crisis, that Henry Abbott and the TrueHoop brand got let go. Blogging in 2017 isn't really the hot new thing that it was when TrueHoop was acquired. ESPN wasn't really didn't need  the TrueHoop blog profitable, they just wanted to jump into the basketball blog game, and recognized the best talent in the business doing it. It was a prestige hire. The time for that sort of prestige has passed, it seems, and now the TrueHoop Podcast is defunct, as a casualty of ESPN's belt tightening. It might seem, to the suits at ESPN, that the podcast just an odd little thing, that they haven't been able to figure out how to monetize, and it needs to go because it's just a money sink. I think this is incredibly short sighted. I don't just mean because the TrueHoop Podcast is good, I mean content like TrueHoop is the future.

The old model of broadcast television was to appeal to the broadest possible audience.  This was because television makes money based on advertising, and the more people viewing, the more they can charge advertisers. The content of shows, particularly on network television, would largely be safe, and non-offensive. It was almost never experimental, never controversial, rarely taking chances. The goal was to appeal to as many people as possible, and when you do that art and quality often suffer. This is not the model of streaming services. The goal of content on Netflix, Amazon, and premium cable like HBO, is not to make a product that many people like a little, it's to make products that a core amount of people love a lot. So shows like Orange is the New Black, Game of Thrones, Stranger Things, that could never be on commercial television, are the corner stones of these streaming services. The idea is that people will love the content so much, they are willing to subscribe to Netflix, or HBOgo, in order to get it. Netflix would like big numbers on the shows they put out, but what is more important is loyal and passionate numbers. To cultivate fanbases fiercely loyal to high quality shows. This requires companies to put out legitimately great programming, not safe or unoffensive programming. Products that appeal to niches. Products that people are invested in, not just turn on at 9 PM out of force of habit, waiting for the news.

ESPN, if knows it or not, must become like these streaming sites. It has products, like major sports, that people LOVE and would be willing to pay directly for.  However, they also have content, like the TrueHoop podcast, that a hard core of people LOVE. That a community is built around. That people would be willing to pay for and stay loyal to ESPN for. It's that kind of media loyalty, that these streaming sites are looking for. It's that kind of engagement, that can make something like the NBA Sidecast work, where fans are watching a blowout basketball game, long after the outcome is in doubt, because they love the talent talking on the screen. I don't know the ins and outs of monetizing podcasts. This is an issue for business experts to try to crack. What I do know, is content. I consume a lot of it, sports, television, radio and podcasts.  The TrueHoop Podcast is great content, truly unique content. I think ESPN has a wonderful problem, of having something great, that people are passionate about, and they need to figure out what to do with it. But what you don't do, is throw up your hands and cast it aside, because you can't figure out how to make money off it yet.

I don't know this for fact, but I based on what I've seen online, the TrueHoop brand itself is gone. It's leaving ESPN with Henry Abbott, and I think that's a shame, because I think Henry was a great talent. However, ESPN still has almost all of the talent from the podcast left. It still has the minds behind the podcast and the nba sidecast. It still has almost all the participants in the Podcast, most of whom weren't even on the ESPN payroll to begin with, and were working for free, out of love of the community and product that had been built, and out love for Jade himself.  ESPN might do away with the TrueHoop brand, but it should NOT do away with the podcast.

What I propose, is the podcast be reborn under another name. The name to me, is obvious and a natural fit, The Jump Podcasting Network. Rachel Nichols has been a regular host of various TrueHoop Pods, I know she listens to them (at an infernal 3x speed), I know she's worked with and values Jade's talent. This seems like a natural fit to me, to expand the Jump's brand, from just broadcast, into a multi-media platform. Many podcast regulars, like Tom Haberstroh and Brian Windhorst already appear on the Jump. Amin Elhassan, perhaps the most important TrueHoop Podcast host, is basically a co-host of The Jump. Jade does animated videos for The Jump. There is already a relationship there, it seems like a natural transition. Rachel could have a regular podcast, talking about what ever she wanted, hoops and beyond. Ex-pros like Tracy McGrady, Scottie Pippen, Stephen Jackson, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar could be regular guests on various pods. The old pods, like #BOMM, #FOB and the Friday mailbag could be reborn and brought back onto the network. I think it works, from both a professional and branding perspective.

However, if Rachel for what ever reason doesn't want to become the Henry Abbott of this new, expanded brand, then ESPN should figure something else out. Find a new name for the podcast, hand the reigns over to Jade completely, do something. Because, The Truehoop Pod has a following. A really, dedicated, passionate, loyal following. Cultivating that sort of loyalty, is what media companies should be dreaming of. Figuring out ways to monetize them, should be the priority. It's that kind of quality and loyalty that is the future of media. ESPN needs to figure that out, and fast, because the days of them being able to skate by, on the strength of their subscriber fees, are over. ESPN is a content production company now, not a cable broadcaster, and you when you're in the content creation business, you simply cannot toss away high quality content and expect to survive.  

[jyjphilippines]

[REVIEW] 170322 Cityonfire: Sea Fog | aka Haemoo (2014) Review

Director: Shim Sung-Bo Writer: Shim Sung-Bo, Bong Joon-Ho Cast: Kim Yun-Seok, Park Yoo-Chun, Han Ye-Ri, Lee Hee-Joon, Moon Sung-Geun, Kim Sang-Ho, Yoo Seung-Mok Running Time: 111 min.

By Kyle Warner

I think Memories of Murder deserves to be in the conversation of the finest films ever made. Dark, thrilling, funny, and almost poetic, it’s the movie that made me a fan of director/co-writer Bong Joon-ho, who did not disappoint when he followed up that masterwork with other great titles like The Host, Snowpiercer, and Mother. But one of the voices behind the making of Memories of Murder that never got the same level of acclaim that Bong did was co-writer Shim Sung-bo. Since Memories of Murder, Shim has directed a couple of short films, but has largely remained an unknown to most viewers. Now, with his feature directorial debut Sea Fog (aka Haemoo), Shim steps up and presents himself as one of the most promising new directors in Korean cinema. And, like that modern classic Memories of Murder, Shim shared the writer’s room with the great Bong Joon-ho to help bring the dark story to life.

Sea Fog is a story of desperation. The characters are desperate to make a living, desperate to escape hardship, desperate to evade the law, desperate to survive. It’s downbeat, has the heart of pitch black film noir, and takes you in directions you wouldn’t expect.

The fishermen of the boat Jeonji aren’t catching much these days. Captain Kang (Kim Yun-seok) has a wife who is cheating on him, his rusty boat is now owned by the bank, and he has to beg the boss for money to pay his crew. Without so much as consulting his crew, Kang agrees to use the boat to pick up illegal immigrants coming out of China and smuggle them back into South Korea. What begins simple enough takes a turn when the illegals challenge the sailors, who are obviously out of their depth.

When a horrible accident occurs, the fishermen try their best to cover things up for fear of facing jail time. It’s then that things shift from a dark (sometimes politically charged) drama to a thriller, as already desperate men lose their humanity and inch closer to madness. Captain Kang, who had once seemed like a sympathetic figure, becomes merciless and cold. Some of his crew, now reduced to their base nature, obsess over money or the women among the illegal immigrants. Only one crewman, Dong-sik (Park Yoo-chun) remains largely himself throughout the ordeal. Even so, the young Dong-sik must decide how far is to go in order to survive the increasingly desperate scenario.

Sea Fog is based on a stage play, which itself was inspired by a sad true story. Like many stage play adaptations, Sea Fog has one primary set. But unlike many stage play adaptations, we never really take notice of the limited sets and locations. The boat is big and it’s surrounded by that cold, black ocean. Filmed beautifully by cinematographer Hong Kyung-pyo (The Wailing), Sea Fog plays bigger than its surroundings might suggest. When the fog rolls in, strange colors shine through the mist, giving the film the surreal appearance of a film noir nightmare.

The cast is largely excellent. Kim Yun-seok (The Chaser) has made a career of playing anti-heroes and likeable villains, and Captain Kang fits somehow into both categories. It’s an intimidating performance, made all the better by the fact that Kim saves the major outbursts for the finale. Perhaps most impressive is Park Yoo-chun (Sungkyunkwan Scandal) as the innocent and inexperienced Dong-sik. Han Ye-ri (Commitment) is very good as the film’s central Korean-Chinese immigrant, giving her character enough individuality so that she is not just a damsel. And character actor Mun Seong-kun (Green Fish) is memorable in one of the film’s most showy roles, that of the boat’s old-timer engineer who starts losing his mind when the worst happens.

If the script lacks subtlety in the final act, then at least you can say that it might endear itself more to thriller/horror fans that’ve come to expect a certain level of the extreme from Korean genre movies. I did not mind this shift in tone to a bloodier, high-pitched thriller. I do have to question the ending, however. Sea Fog ends with an extended epilogue, which felt unneeded especially after what would’ve been an excellent final shot.

A film with dark moral dilemmas and increasingly raised stakes, Sea Fog is the sort of movie that’s almost impossible to look away from. It also unfolds in an unexpected way, taking you on strange detours from the storyline that you were probably expecting. It’s an excellent thriller for fans of co-writer Bong Joon-ho, who explores more of the theme of class warfare seen earlier in Snowpiercer. For writer/director Shim, Sea Fog is one hell of a feature debut, and is hopefully a hint of more good things to come.

Kyle Warner’s Rating: 8/10

trailer: https://youtu.be/tHQ6UqY4J1A

Source: Cityonfire