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saurexhas · 3 years

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Love is Blind - Part 1

So I’ve been hanging out with @studionovella and the team for @nightmare-castle, and the sheer talent in their discord server is so amazing. It led me to be inspired, and while I’m typically more of a Sanscest writer, I figured that it’d be fun to try something new considering the source of my inspiration! So have some Nightmare x MC (Nightmare x Reader).

Be warned, this story handles blindness and... probably some other sensitive topics considering it’s me. So just watch the tags for any relevant triggers!

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You didn’t think that it was possible, but somehow you had fallen for Nightmare. On the surface he was cold, cruel, and calculating, using everyone he could to advance his goals. But if you could tolerate the coldness, get past his clinical treatment of those he believed were beneath him, then there was so much more to him. Nightmare was a scholar, a brilliant mind with a vision for a world all his own. He appreciated the arts, often enjoying his downtime with a good book and a calming cup of tea. And believe it or not, there was a small part of him that genuinely cared for the skeletons under his charge. You’ve seen that side of him more than most, managing to open even his eye to what was hidden beneath the centuries of anger and hatred.

Even if negativity was still a large part of who he was, you found yourself able to accept that darkness, because it only made the small lights within him shine brighter. Just like the stars the two of you were gazing at. Though as your gaze shifted to the skeleton currently dominating your thoughts, you found that piercing cyan eye of his locked onto you instead of the sky. If there was ever any doubt in your mind that your feelings were reciprocated, one look at his gaze would sweep it all away. There was a tenderness to him, reserved only for you as he would say. It was only in these moments where the two of you were alone that he would let his imposing demeanor slide.

Getting moments to yourselves was easier said than done though. Despite the sheer size of the castle, the others always seemed to be around. They knew how Nightmare favoured you, how he treated you special and wasn’t as harsh. You were pretty sure that they’d managed to piece everything together on their own, even if none of them ever said anything for fear of angering their king. That said, some of them, namely Killer, seemed to delight in getting in the way of your fleeting moments alone. And there was always no shortage of work to be done, not when your partner was as ambitious as he was. Nightmare aimed to create an empire, and you were doing what you could to further his goals. Even if all that work and Killer’s interference left you and Nightmare fleeing to other worlds in order to have some semblance of a relationship.

Outertale was a favourite destination of yours, the beauty of the cosmos always taking your breath away. It always seemed so far removed from the chaos of the multiverse, or the chaos of the castle.The peace and quiet out here made it perfect for when both you and your partner just needed a break. You could stand out here for hours, watching the subtle shifts in the sky or mapping constellations.

But for now, you were seemingly locked in a staring contest with the lord of darkness, neither willing to look away or break the silence that had fallen. Unsure of what to do, you simply reached out with your finger and booped the tip of his nose. The look of utter surprise on his face left you giggling, only for his own rich laughter to mingle with yours.

“You dare to lay a hand on the God of Negativity, hmm?” He teased, pulling you close with his tentacles before wrapping his arms around your waist. “You are either very brave or very foolish… maybe a bit of both. How shall I deal with your crime, my little moon?”

You couldn’t help but swoon a bit at the pet name he called you, grinning up at him like a fool as you took advantage of the close proximity to snuggle close. “I could swear my love to you, would that appease the great Nightmare?”

“Perhaps,” he chuckled, the distance closing between the two of you even further as he ducked his head down to be level with your own. Nightmare opened his mouth, perhaps to say something else or to move in for the kiss you were anticipating. Before either option could happen though, the dark skeleton froze for a split second. There wasn’t even time to ask what was wrong before you found yourself hefted into his arms, the two of you dodging a volley of bright blue arrows that had speared where you’d been moments ago.

Your heart hammered in your throat, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you tried to get a grip on what was happening. Nightmare still had you cradled to his chest, dodging arrows and… was that paint? Following the paint’s trajectory, you could see your partner’s enemies had managed to crash your little date.

The Star Sanses stood on the other end of the floating chunk of rock you were on, the portal they’d used to arrive closing behind them. Blue was just coming through the portal, his gaster blaster hammer in his grip. Dream had another arrow ready to fire, though he hesitated upon seeing you staring back at him. Ink on the other hand wasted no time in splattering more of his paints everywhere, a tentacle raising to block you from the oncoming attack. The paint hissed and fizzled on contact, a growl leaving Nightmare as he jumped to another nearby rock to escape the barrage.

“Night, are you okay?!” You look up to see him trying to hide his pain, showing you that those paints are far more than something to be smeared on a piece of paper. While you’d heard stories from the others about the chaotic creator, you’d never met him in person or seen him fight. Seeing that paint flying towards you was way scarier than the guys’ stories had led you to believe.

“I’ll be fine,” Nightmare insisted as he set you down, even if you knew that attack hurt. “Look, you need to remain here where you’ll be safe. I don’t care what kind of training you’ve been partaking in with the others; I refuse to let you endanger yourself by fighting them. Ink especially is dangerous, keep away from him at all costs. If you cannot dodge his attacks, make sure to shield your face. His paint can burn like acid if he wishes, and while liquid negativity protects my body, you have no such defenses. Give me your word that you will remain safe while I deal with these pests.”

As much as you wanted to argue that you could help, even you couldn’t muster the confidence to speak against him with such a stern glare directed at you. It was clear that Nightmare wouldn’t take no for an answer on this one, so you had no choice but to nod your head meekly. “I-I’ll stay here,” you promised, glancing up to see him seemingly satisfied. Without another word, he rushed off, preventing Blue from getting any closer with his large hammer.

Watching Nightmare take on all three of the Star Sanses by himself was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, much like the first times you’d joined sparring sessions with the guys. But there wasn’t the assurance in the back of your mind that nobody would be out to kill you. While it might not be the goals of all of the Stars, there was very much mortal danger in this fight for both you and the one you loved. Staying on the sidelines like this was painful, leaving you feeling useless as Nightmare struggled to hold off the onslaught.

Were they not essentially your enemies, you’d be impressed by the coordination and teamwork the Stars possessed. All three of them were capable of both melee and ranged attacks, and wordlessly organized themselves so that one of their own was never in danger of being hit by their own attacks. Dream’s precision with his arrows allowed him to stay primarily a ranged fighter, while Blue’s blasters and Ink’s attacks were a bit too widespread to risk while one of them fought in close combat. Nightmare was the only one without a specific ranged attack, which probably explained why the others rarely got close to attack. Your lover’s tentacles gave him reach though, and the ability to hit multiple targets at once, so he was somehow able to hold his own against all three.

The battle looked to be a stalemate… until one of the Stars suddenly switched tactics. While Blue rushed in with a hammer and bones at his side, Ink actually turned his back on the fight. He seemed a little lost, like he was trying to remember something, only for his eyes to light up as he locked gazes with you. Instant panic seized you as the one skeleton that Nightmare warned you about came straight for you, manic glee plastered over his face as he quickly crossed the distance between the two of you. A glance back at the battle proved that Nightmare had seen what was going on, but Blue was keeping him from coming to your aid. So it was up to you to think fast and avoid the creator, hope bubbling in you that this might actually make things easier. If you could keep Ink busy by dodging his attacks, then Nightmare might be able to take on the remaining two with better success before coming after Ink.

With this admittedly crazy plan in your head, you began a game of cat and mouse with Ink, jumping from one place to the next. If you didn’t have a splash-happy maniac chasing you, it would’ve been cool to enjoy the low gravity of Outertale. For now though, it was all that was allowing you to escape most of the attacks directed at you. You were far from unscathed though, small splashes of paint eating away at your arms and legs. It burned, but was nothing you couldn’t deal with as you continued to dodge and weave the bulk of the attacks. So long as none of it touched your face, you would be fine.

Glancing back at the main battle going on, your hopes of Nightmare doing better against two targets instead of three were steadily being crushed. He seemed distracted, constantly looking up to watch you kite Ink around the area. Instead of focusing on the two he had to deal with, he was so worried about you and Ink that he was now losing. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was facing off against Ink and Blue, because there was little the two could do beyond superficial damage. Dream on the other hand was still very much a threat, his arrows of pure positivity being about the only thing that could seriously hurt. And you could see several piercing the ground, coated in the black negativity that Nightmare relied on for protection. It was a surefire way to see when he’d been hit, and the staggering amount of these soiled arrows made it clear that your partner wasn’t holding his own anymore. Guilt welled up in you, because you were the reason he was now losing this fight. While there wasn’t much you could honestly do to shake Ink from your trail, reason did little to quell the negativity rising inside you. All you could hope for was that your own despair could give Nightmare just a bit more power, enough to keep himself safe at least.

As time dragged on, both you and Nightmare were running out of stamina. Your legs cried for rest as you continued to run away from the creator, while your lover’s movements were growing noticeably sluggish. More arrows seemed to connect than not at this point, and he had barely any time to recover from one attack before dealing with another. The two of you were badly losing, and it was quite clear now why Nightmare rarely let anyone from the castle venture out on their own.

The Stars seemed to sense this sudden weakness in their target, Dream finally stopping his barrage to call out to the one going after you. “Ink! Stop playing around, I need your help!” Help? What help could Ink possibly be? Even his corrosive paints couldn’t breach the surface of Nightmare’s negativity, the only thing that could was Dream’s… oh… oh no.

As the realization hit you, Ink finally gave up his pursuit. “Woo! Looks like my plan actually worked… at least I think this was my plan. Whatever, let’s do this!” Laughing at some untold joke, Ink hopped away from you to return to the large rock that most of the battle had been on. At the same moment though, you felt your legs moving as the horrific reality of their plan hit you. Ink purposefully went after you to distract Nightmare, allowing the others to weaken him enough so that their special attack would hit. The creator might not be able to damage the surface, but if Dream’s arrow ripped through first, then there’d be a narrow window where Nightmare’s greatest defense would be gone. In a single spot he’d be vulnerable, which is why they needed to slow him down enough to ensure their hit would work.

You weren’t going to let that happen. Promise be damned, your soul was screaming at you to protect the one you loved, and you were going to heed its call. The ache in your legs went completely ignored, adrenaline pushing you forward with more speed than you thought you could muster. You needed to be faster though; Ink was already there, and Blue had set about corralling Nightmare to keep him still.

Only a few floating chunks of rock were between you and your beloved now, but you still weren’t fast enough. Panic rose once again as you watched Dream draw back his bowstring, the arrow glimmering faintly in the surrounding darkness. Ink stood ready beside him, the paint coating his brush a dangerous shade of red. That same paint had left such horrible burns along your limbs, and you could only imagine the damage it might do to the weakened god of negativity. With Blue running interference and drawing Nightmare’s attention, it was only a matter of time now.

As your feet touched down on the large space rock, several feet from everyone else, you knew that you were out of time. Nightmare was too absorbed in his fight to hear your warning calls, and it would only alert the two and likely cause them to reset before trying again. This attack would only work once though, because once Nightmare knew of their plan, he wouldn’t let it work a second time. That meant that you had one chance to stop them, especially when you saw that Dream was aiming towards his twin’s soul.

Courage and determination welled within your soul, driving you forward despite the risk you were running straight into. Any number of things could go seriously wrong, but… you couldn’t risk them killing him. Nightmare was the bane of the multiverse to many, but he was everything to you. Gritting your teeth, you timed your steps so that you’d only enter Dream’s field of vision after he fired, preventing them from stopping you and trying again. The second he saw you, the god of positivity’s expression changed from one of grim determination to one of shock and horror, his hand reaching out as if he could stop his attack or stop you. His hesitance once again wasn’t present in Ink, the creator wasting no time in flinging the red paint directly after the arrow.

With mere seconds to spare, your outstretched hands made contact with the cool goop that covered Nightmare’s body. All of your momentum and might went into a push, knocking the deity away from the incoming attack. Your lover turned back to look at you the second you made contact, his eye conveying the same shock and horror as Dream’s had when he saw you. All you could do was smile, knowing that you’d managed to save him no matter what danger you’d put yourself in. Nightmare reached out for you just as the arrow whizzed past, its trajectory leaving it slicing past your eyes. Pain bloomed as the minor cuts scratched the outsides of your eyes, but it was nothing compared to what came next. You’d been so concerned about the arrow that you temporarily forgot about Ink. His attack followed as per the Stars’ plan, splattering over the both of you with its acidic effect. The scratches to your eyes had left you temporarily blind, so you weren’t able to see that red paint as it splashed all over your face. The last thing you saw was instead Nightmare, reaching out to you as if to save you from this pain.

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#mc #x reader #nightmare sans #dream sans #ink sans #swap sans #star sanses #bad sanses #established relationship #tw blindness #fighting #violence #saurex works #saurex drabbles

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melohax · 4 years

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I’ve seen some people who finished Omori talking about how they don’t understand the game’s plot, what happens in the good ending or why the protagonist even decided to change his ways. So then, here’s my thoughts on Omori’s story.

Warning: SPOILERS AHOY. Only read this if you’ve already finished the game and seen the good or true ending. Or if you don’t plan on playing the game at all but still want to know the whole story.

I’ve seen some people around the internet talk about how Sunny’s character isn’t clear to them or how they feel Sunny doesn’t deserve a good ending. Here’s some thoughts I have on why I think Sunny’s growth was well depicted.

There’s two main routes you can go through in the game: the “Reality” route and the “Hikikomori” route.

In the “Hikikomori” route, Sunny stays in Headspace forever and we get to learn many additional details about him. Sunny’s parents are implied to have known what Sunny did to Mari all along. It’s also implied that Sunny’s mother covered the whole thing up and chose to present it as a suicide as well cus, in her own words, she can’t bear the thought of losing both of her kids.

Sunny’s mother insinuates her son isn’t a “good boy” even though she begs him to be good but she still sees him as her little boy (as seen by the overly-sweet and positive messages she leaves around the house and her voice mails) and needs him alive so she can survive her own grief. Sunny’s father is shown cutting down the hanging tree and telling Sunny he isn’t his son, presumably disowning Sunny. The father keeps being absent forever afterwards.

Fast forward to the present and the “Reality” route, Sunny’s moving in 3 days. He knows his time is up in the real world and the biggest catalyst for his personal growth is that he’s finally seeing his old friends in the REAL world after 4 years of only seeing their loving, idealized child version in dreams. For the first time, he gets to witness the collateral consequences of what he did to Mari in his now teenaged friends: Aubrey spirals into delinquency after feeling like she was thrown aside by everyone she loved. Hero is guilt ridden, can’t even go near Mari’s grave and gives up on his dreams of being a chef. Kel wants to make things better but feels powerless, useless and like a screwup. Basil lives in a miserable state of almost constant fear and psychosis.

Sunny finally gets to see the huge toll his lie took on his friends’ entire lives as they keep blaming themselves for not knowing about Mari’s supposed suicidal ideations. He’s finally forced to face reality and he still tries to hide in dreamworld but he can’t. The inhabitants of Headspace are all people or fictional characters he knows or likes in real life (that he changed in his dreams, like how Kim’s brother is a sweet gentle giant and Sweetheart looks just like the candy shop owner at the supermarket) and their quests end up leading him to events where he’s reminded over and over again his dreams will end soon (the end of the underwater highway, the tree near the whale, the shadows of Mari and Basil) and that he needs to delve into Blackspace.

This shows how his own subconscious mind knows well what needs to be done; he’s putting the mental and emotional effort of making himself face what he’s done, shown through the contrast between the whimsical nature of Headspace and the dark surrealism of Blackspace.

As this happens in Sunny’s psyche, in the real world he can try to “atone” a bit by doing good things for his little community like completing requests people around him have. He still has a lot of trouble being near Basil in the real world but considering his entire subconscious mainly revolves around finding and rescuing Basil, he wants and needs to face Basil sincerely before he runs out of time.

We’re shown through memories that Sunny’s personality was always quiet, wary, a bit distant and very bad at dealing with pressure. Some people even describe him as cowardly or mediocre but he was just a small kid who’s entire world ended when he was 12. Since then, he never left his house, spending most of his days asleep rather than awake. It’s no wonder his personality isn’t as developed as his friends. His friends, although they were also in immense pain, at least still continued to live beyond Mari’s death. Sunny didn’t. He only lived through sleep.

Subconsciously, it’s shown Sunny both loves and hates Basil. This is seen in Blackspace with the dialogue he has with the “strangers” walking in the void. They talk about how Sunny (as Omori) does horrible things to Basil in the darkness of Blackspace because he struggles with facing the truth of his own actions. It’s also revealed through datamine of Blackspace’s metaphorical photo album that Basil, in his attempts to save Sunny from the judgement of others and to get him to come out of catatonia, was the one who come up with the plan to hang Mari.

Sunny describes Mari as looking as if calmly asleep when he drags her up the stairs. Her eyes remained peacefully closed until Sunny and Basil hung her. Then, Sunny turned back to look at Mari’s corpse, her previously closed eyes were wide open. She might have even been still alive, might have opened her eyes during or after the noose was tied to her neck. Or the belief he saw her eyes open could have been a manifestation of Sunny’s guilt, instead.

Either way, the horrifying possibilities surrounding Mari’s death lead to Sunny handling his emotional pain by subconsciously taking it out on Basil. It’s why Basil in Blackspace is shown constantly suffering and dying in many different ways. It’s the only way Sunny has been able to deal with himself; by forcing Basil into the darkest corners of his mind, his perfect colorful dreamworld can’t be ruined by the ugly reality Basil’s mere presence represents. It’s less painful to try to forget Basil and to forever blame him for both of their sins.

Still, even with all these conflicted feelings, Sunny’s tried to come to terms with love he still feels for Basil many times before. The shadows point out how this isn’t the first time he’s tried to save the Flower Boy; how all the previous times before ended in Sunny failing to find redemption and so his mind turns back to torturing the Basil of his dreams instead.

However, one of the Blackspace shadows also mentions a very important detail that changes almost everything this time around: his time is almost up in the real world. Whether this means he’ll commit suicide or move away, it’s almost time for him to leave the friends he’s always loved so much behind.

Sunny is forced to do a lot of internal work and self-reflection in what little time he has left. It’s shown through his dream actions, the surreal imagery surrounding him and the characters with all the sub plots his subconscious makes up.

In the route to the good ending, he traverses Blackspace and manages to listen to every harsh truth Basil’s shadow has to tell him. His attempts to save Basil mean he’s fighting his own mind, forcing himself to accept the truth.

To achieve redemption for his greatest mistake, Sunny needs to start with accepting Basil entirely; he has to stop making Basil take the brunt of their combined regrets. It means being willing to finally face the REAL Basil instead of permanently burying him in the most painful place within Sunny’s mind.

So basically, it’s obvious to me that Sunny is forced out of his “comfortable” hikikomori misery the moment he opens the door to meet the REAL Kel.

Sunny and Basil have a confrontation in the real world. When Sunny entera Basil’s room, we see poor Basil suicidal and at his limit. He’s clearly in the throes of a psychotic episode and at the mercy of hallucinations and delusions he can’t escape from (“There’s no way out of this is there, Sunny?”). Basil attacks you in an attempt to save you by killing the “thing behind you” but as we know, there isn’t actually something behind you.

There was never any monster to take the blame for Basil’s regrets, nor yours. It’s always been just you.

Meanwhile, Sunny is trying his best not to completely lose his shit so he can save Basil and stop him from potentially killing the both of them. Sunny likely loses an eye in the fight, shown by the blood coming from your socket and the bandage over it in the hospital.

Incidentally, the eye you lose is on the same side as the eye that can be seen peeking through the hair of Mari’s face as she’s hanging from the tree.

In the good ending, the song at the end talks about how even after confessing the truth, Sunny is alone once again, so it’s not actually clear if Aubrey, Kel and Hero actually forgave him. I feel like this is deliberately left up to interpretation by the writers. The lyrics then continue on to say Sunny still finds it hard to wake up, still finds himself plagued some days with lingering regret, but that he still tries to take it all one step at a time to carry on living.

With the song’s lyrics in mind, the end scene that shows Basil and Sunny smiling at each other while Mari’s shadow leaves them doesn’t mean they’re completely fine all of a sudden. Whether their friends forgave them or not, they at least finally have the relief of honesty. The burden of their unbearable shared secret is now off their shoulders. It’s finally out in the open, which means they both can now start healing and working to find the redemption Sunny was looking for in Blackspace. It also means they can go back to loving each other again without the crushing pain they both felt in each other’s presence.

I agree that Aubrey and the gang get pretty left out in the good ending, though. I wish there was more of them and their reactions to the truth BUT I think it’s sadly a deliberate choice by the writers to leave their reaction up to the player’s interpretation. This can feel extremely unfulfilling to many people (me included, I hate when authors do that tbh) but also to many others that’s a good thing cus they get to apply their own personal meaning and feelings.

I personally feel like the friends forgiving Sunny and Basil right off the bat would be incredibly unrealistic. I think they would need a lot of time (especially Aubrey) for them to forgive the lie that wrecked their lives for years. Forgiveness isn’t impossible but it would probably come in the form of a slow, difficult, heartbreaking process. Bittersweet.

Redemption isn’t just about forgiveness, anyway.

Even if a person is never forgiven by the people they’ve hurt, they can still find redemption for their actions through doing good for the people around them and the world at large. An example of this is shown through what Sunny can do on his last days in his neighborhood. The gratitude and additional flowers he receives in the hospital from each person he’s helped are proof he can still do good for others even after something as horrible and unforgivable as accidental murder. In a way, it’s proof that his life is still worth living.

But ultimately that’s just my own interpretation of the ending and I understand other people would interpret it all differently. Some see forgiveness as a given in the story while there’s also others who think Sunny doesn’t deserve forgiveness or those who think Sunny is a sociopath/psychopath or that Basil is the true villain of the game. I think this is why the ending was left so open, to favor all the different interpretations people have of it.

ETA: Here’s a different take on Sunny’s parents. This post argues that, despite the initial implications, they actually didn’t know about the attempted coverup. It’s a really good writeup explaining the whys and hows and has me reconsidering that part of the story!

https://www.reddit.com/r/OMORI/comments/kr9nvx/major_spoilers_regarding_sunny_his_parents_and/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

#omori #omori game #omori sunny #omori basil #omori spoilers #spoilers #i said id wait before doing a post like this lol #but here i am #omori meta

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joheun-saram · 4 years

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Christmas Under Wraps (ksj)

Summary- You always wanted to work in a small town, and when you finally got matched to a small hospital in Alaska for your one year sabbatical you never would’ve thought you’d be in a place where everyone believed Santa was real. Mass hysteria or magic? Only time will tell.

word count- 12k

pairing- nurse!Seokjin x doctor!Reader

rating- R

genre- fluff, smut

warnings- very bad puns, me having no knowledge of Alaska, cheating, shitty parents, mentions of the horrendous Mario movie, softdom!Jin, whiny!Jin, explicit sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), edging (kinda), multiple orgasms, too many references to Santa

a.n- Part of @suhdays Hallmark Holiday Collab! Please check other beautiful holiday pieces written by some amazing writers. Full disclosure, this fic took me more than a month to write, mostly because I have only seen like three Christmas movies, and one of them was Die Hard and the other was Nightmare before Christmas, so please let me know what you think! Was this Christmasy enough for you?

s/o to the amazing @namyoongles for the banner! ily! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

“Mr Henderson, I really need you to watch your carbohydrate intake. Your blood sugar indicates pre-diabetes and with your history of angina, it really is important that you keep this in check. I’m going to need you to do a monthly fasting glucose check for the next three months so we see some results. Okay?”

You look over at the smiling overweight septuagenarian seated in front of you. Mr Henderson was one of your favourite patients, one of the few you knew well enough to remember even his grandchildren’s name. You loved that. Being a doctor in a busy hospital in Manhattan made making a lasting connection with a patient a rare occurrence, and although you were worried about his health, you were happy you the last appointment of your five years of residency was with someone you knew.

“Doc, I’m old. A little dessert never hurt anyone huh?” Mr Henderson joked, as he patted his stomach, the buttons of his shirts working hard to keep it together.

“I’m serious, Mr Henderson,” you speak sternly, looking up from your iPad screen at the man in front of you, just as your attending walks in through the door.

“Well, Mr Henderson you better listen to Dr. Y/L/N. She’s the best we’ve got and she will keep calling you in for appointments even if she isn’t here!” She adjusts her glasses, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, as the two delve into a conversation about her upcoming retirement. You were sad to see your mentor and friend retire, but if you were being honest, it was that fact that gave you the courage to make your big move.

Your colleagues and friends were shocked when you announced that you were moving to Alaska. You had always been the top of your program and had an assortment of top specialization programs to choose from. In fact, your father was the most shocked. He expected you to follow his footsteps and specialize in internal medicine from the prestigious program at John Hopkins. He had even spoken to one of his friends on the admission board to ensure your acceptance.

He almost choked on his dinner when you mentioned that you had accepted the family medicine specialization program in the small town of Elophtron in Alaska. He was livid, having never even heard of the town, let alone the program, deeming it unworthy of his 28 year old prodigy. But that’s the thing. You were twenty eight. There was no way you would let your father, or anyone for that matter, dictate what to do with your career.

The only person who seemed to support your decision was your long term boyfriend, Jiho, who seemed ecstatic at the news. He was the first person you told. You were nervous when you broke the news, the two of you had been a little distant the past few months, but your worries were assuaged when he pulled you in a tight hug excitedly telling you how proud he was of you. He knew how much you wanted to take a break from the city, and seeing his enthusiastic support made you confident you were making the right move.

Born and raised in New York City, the overcrowded bustle of the city thrummed through your veins. While you did pride yourself on being a true New Yorker, you would be lying if you said that you were happy here. It was easy to be lost here, to be forgotten amongst the millions of faces crossing the streets. As often as the city lights cheered you up, they also suffocated you.

The city was cold, a criss cross of concrete and beautiful glass towers housing lonely, selfish souls that didn’t mind tripping over the people sleeping in the streets. People here craved to be noticed, craved to live lavishly, and while you were born into what most craved, what you wanted was the solace of a town where everyone knew each other. A town where you could make lasting relationships that didn’t rely on your last name or where you graduated from. Elopthron, although a terribly sci-fi sounding town name, was your reprieve from the smog filled mundane.

The days leading up to your departure were full of excitement. You packed quickly, your closet surprisingly fitting into two bags that barely avoided the baggage limit. Your friends hosted a cute little going away party, full of champagne and promises to visit, while your parents hosted a cold dinner, full of lectures and judgement. As your flight landed in Juneau, your heart was beating with nerves. This specialization was at the town’s only hospital, the fact that all the town’s medical talent was under one roof had you excited to learn. Not only that, but the program stated that you would get the opportunity to run things and you couldn’t wait to put your leadership skills to the test again - you were the chief resident at your old hospital and you couldn’t say that the role didn’t suit you.

Collecting your bags, albeit with a little struggle, you reach the doors to the arrivals where the hospital had told you to meet the driver. That is another thing about this dream opportunity, they not only ensured you had a ride into town, but even provided you with your own apartment. To your shock, the driver you meet takes you not to a car but another plane, a small little thing that shakes with every gust of wind.

It makes you nervous, the shaking rattling your heart around your chest, but the view of the snow covered mountains takes your breath away. You were never one to swoon over nature, preferring your apartment to the hiking trips Jiho got excited about, but seeing the fresh untouched snow stirred something in you. It promised fresh starts and unchartered challenges, and that made your heart beat faster in anticipation.

The feeling didn’t subside even when you made yourself comfortable in your new apartment. The warm wooden finishing was a stark contrast to the metal of your home in Manhattan and as you started the fire before hanging your clothes in the small wardrobe in the corner of your room, you couldn’t stop the grin etching across your features. You were finally here.

The apartment was on the first floor of a two storey complex. It was much smaller than your expansive home, but instead of suffocating it felt cozy. The front door opened to a small hallway furnished simply with a cute oak shoe rack and a full length mirror. It led to an open concept kitchen and living room, separated by a breakfast island. The living room had a large fireplace, stack of wood next to it, and a large yellow couch opposite it. Furnishing was minimal, but your bedroom boasted a large queen sized bed, anchored on each side by matching nightstands and a wardrobe in the corner.

It was everything you didn’t know you craved as you settled in your bed for the night, noting to thank the hospital for even providing the bedding. As you stared at the wooden slats that decorated the ceiling of your bedroom, you felt comforted. It was unlike your home, where the high ceilings made you feel cold and alone, even when Jiho stayed over. Perhaps you needed this new beginning more than you thought.

The morning was not as serene however, as you somehow managed to turn off your alarm without waking up and were running half an hour behind schedule when you realised you didn’t have a coffee maker. Scrambling out into the cold early December weather you pulled your expensive but utterly useless coat around you as you followed your map app to the closest and seemingly only coffee shop on the one strip of shops the town boasted.

Checking the time to see you still had about half an hour till work started, you slowed down a little to take in the surroundings. Quaint did not cover how cute the small town was. The main strip was a large two way street with a row of little independently owned shops on either side with names such as Once Upon a Book, A Nick in Time, and Thorns and Roses. You didn’t know what these shops housed, although you could guess some, and you couldn’t wait to explore. The cutest thing about the shops was how festive everything looked, fairy lights strung everywhere, mistletoe and wreaths in every window. Like you had stepped into the Grinch’s nightmare, and it was barely October. This might possibly be the most fairytale like town you’d ever stepped foot into.

You easily located the small coffee shop, chuckling at the ostentatious pink board reading Bean There. It seemed more like an 70’s style diner than a coffee shop, filled with small vinyl tables, each with a small Christmas tree on it. Making your way to the counter, you ordered your usual, blond roast coffee with a splash of almond milk.

“Oh sorry hon. We only have normal coffee and cow’s milk,” the older woman standing behind the cash register answered with a jolly laugh, pouring coffee from a pot into a red to-go cup. Before you could say anything, she continued. “Besides, that’s some hippy stuff. We’ve been drinking cow’s milk for generations and our family has never been healthier! I swear these trends are killing the economy!”

And she talked, going on and on about the benefits of milk giving you no time to interrupt as she poured a copious amount of milk into your coffee making it resemble a latte. You were about to give up and forego the coffee this morning till someone behind you decided to speak up.

“Doris! What did we say about forcing the tourists to drink your farm’s milk?” You followed the deep, joyous voice to its owner, blinking a few times as you registered the tall, dark haired man behind you. Oh and what a man he was.

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a red flannel shirt under a fur-lined denim jacket, your eyes zeroed in on his broad shoulders. The instant attraction you felt to this stranger had heat rising up your neck. Emboldened by the fact that you would probably not see this stranger again, you let your eyes roam his body, biting your lip slightly, till your eyes met his, a small smirk on his lips. Clearing your throat you awkwardly stepped forward.

“It’s okay. No problem, Doris, was it?”

“No no. You want almond milk, you get almond milk! Doris I know for a fact you have it back there!” The stranger stops you from grabbing the drink on the counter, a hand held up.

“Seokjin! I see how it is! Just because a pretty girl wants almond milk, you share but not when Jeremy wanted to try it.” Doris huffs, straightening her bright yellow apron.

“Jeremy was drinking it as a dare, and I’d rather not waste one of the ten cartons that Dosey orders every month on stupidity.”

“Um… Really it’s fine! I’m going to be late for work so… thank you!” You try to escape. As much as your lactose intolerant gut was wincing at the thought of almond milk, you had spent way more time here than you planned.

“Wait, work? Hon you’re not a tourist at all! Where are you working?” It seemed you only made the conversation more interesting as Doris looked at you beaming.

“At the hospital?”

“You’re the new doctor? Oh my! Welcome Doc! We’re so excited to have you here! I suppose you’ll be seeing a lot of Seokjin then!” She slapped the stranger, Seokjin you suppose, on the shoulder as he stares at you with wide eyes before catching himself and clearing his throat.

“Doris! Will you just make the pretty doctor her drink then? Mine too please!” He leans on the counter and you can’t help but steal another glance at him. He really was oddly beautiful.

“Sure hon! Here you go!” Doris chuckled as she placed two coffees on the counter and you’re pleased to see yours looking exactly how you prefer. You take out your wallet before Seokjin stops you.

“Don’t worry about it. Put it on my tab Doris. Here, let me walk you to work.” He guides you out of the little cafe, a hand hovering near the small of your back.

“I’m sure you have better things to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh it’s no problem at all. I’m going there myself.”

“Oh. Are you a resident?” You did not expect that. By his attire you assumed he worked some manual labour, and by his face you assumed he worked as a model. Somehow you couldn’t picture seeing this man living at a library like you had your years of schooling.

“Nope. Head nurse. So Doris is right, you’ll be seeing me a lot.” He grinned at you, his cheeks puffing up in a way that made you want to poke them. What was in the air in this town? You needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Oh nice to meet you then! I’m -”

“Dr. Y/L/N from New York, right?” Seokjin cut you off before you could finish, looking at you over the lip of his cup as he sipped his coffee, casually guiding you down the main street towards the hospital.

“Right… Seokjin?”

“Yup. Kim Seokjin. How are you liking our little town so far?” He seemed genuinely interested and you smiled. It felt oddly comfortable even if you had inklings of butterflies swarming your belly.

“I love it. It’s really beautiful!”

“Oh wow. Didn’t expect a New Yorker to like it here. You know it’s always cold, right?” he smirked, slowing down as you reached a cute little pink house, before stopping completely.

“I can handle the cold. Wait, this is the hospital?” You looked at the house. It looked more like something a grandma would reside in than a hospital. You were used to glass buildings and top of the art hospitals. As you entered, the door opened to a large waiting area with faded vinyl chairs and a reception desk. It was cozy, but you couldn't believe this was the only hospital in town.

“The one and only. The town’s going to be so excited to finally have a doctor

again!” His words made you sputter, almost choking on your coffee.

“What do you mean, finally? Where are the other doctors?”

“You’re it!” He grinned.

This was not according to plan. You were here to learn. Learn from people much more well-versed in medicine than you were. You did not expect to be the only doctor. Even if the town only had around 2,000 people, it was still outrageous that you would be the only person treating them, and in this small house. Does this place even have any imaging machines?!

As the day went on, your nerves only increased. Seokjin introduced you to the other people who worked at the hospital. There were only three others, two orderly, and another nurse. There were more people in your friend group of residents back home. This was scary, and as you laid in bed that night, all you wanted to do was talk to Jiho and get comforted. He didn't pick up, and you counted the slates on your ceiling to fall asleep, pushing your mind to rest no matter how alone you felt all of a sudden.

----------

Turns out you were not that alone. Within a month you had finally gotten into the groove of things. Your five-person team gelled together pretty fast, and soon you could anticipate each other's moves and even talk without words. Running a hospital, however, was not all you had cracked it up to be in your head. Although you didn't see too many patients daily, the paperwork kept you way past dinner most days. If it weren’t for Seokjin’s insistence to leave at the same time as you, you might as well had moved into your office.

All in all, it was nice. The town had welcomed you with open arms, and it was exactly what you were looking for when you left Manhattan - a place where everyone knew your name and not because of who your family was, where you could walk into a coffee shop and they'd know your order, where you knew your neighbours and attended extravagantly cheesy block parties. Elopthron had its quirks, how almost everyone here put way too much emphasis on Christmas, adults even going as far as pretending Santa Claus was real for the kids all the time. You weren’t kidding, one time a middle aged patient insisted on not ordering the brace he needed because he knew Santa would bring him one on Christmas. When you told Jenny, the other nurse, to do a psych evaluation, she just shook her head in amusement, thinking you were joking. “Of course Santa is real, Dr. Y/L/N. Here in Elophtron, Santa comes every Christmas with presents!” she had insisted, leaving you baffled. This town was absolutely bonkers, but it was starting to feel like home.

The only thing stopping you from feeling fully content was the fact that your parents were still icing you out and somehow regardless of being only four hours out of sync, Jiho and you had barely communicated this month. You would think you were being ghosted if it weren’t for his sporadic one liners.

You sighed as you looked over the budget for the month, the numbers somehow refusing to add up as you looked at your phone, the Instagram notification lighting it up. You could use a break, so you decide to scroll through your feed, only to stop abruptly at Jiho's new post.

Love my baby so much! Happy four months, beautiful.

It was a cute caption, if it weren't for the fact that you and Jiho had been dating for over four years, your anniversary was in March, and that he was kissing a stunning blond that you didn't recognize in the picture.

You looked at the picture again, closing the app and starting it again, just in case it was a glitch. Nope, apparently, Jiho had broken up with you and forgot to tell you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes, but they weren't because of sadness. Oh no, you were furious. No wonder that fucker was so excited about your move.

You let out a huge groan, throwing your phone across the room, as you stood up and kicked your desk, tears now freely flowing. You couldn't believe the nerve. You hadn't expected this from him. In fact, much like a loser, you were expecting him to propose at Christmas. You thought back at how he had told you he loved you and called you beautiful, much like he was now professing to that new girl and it made your stomach twist. You wanted to break stuff. No, correction, you wanted to break his face.

You didn't realize you were rage pacing until Seokjin appeared in the doorframe, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" he asked, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing. In the past month, Seokjin had gotten surprisingly good at reading your moods. It was like he could see a slight change in your micro-expressions and be able to tell whether you need a coffee, a hug, or a walk. You were truly grateful for him, but at this moment you were afraid you were going to take out your anger on him so you tried to calm down. Stopping your pacing, you plastered a smile on your face.

"Yeah. Everything's fine. Don't worry. Why are you still here?" Seokjin, however, didn't buy your flimsy excuse and pulled you in a hug. You felt yourself instantly calm. It was oddly intimate. He had hugged you before, but never like this. His arms were tight around your frame as your face met his chest, enveloping you in his vanilla scent. Your attraction to Seokjin had faded slowly over time, but right now as he tightened his grip around you in an effort to comfort you, your heart skipped a beat.

With your rage fast diminishing, all you had left was your heartbreak as you slowly started to cry in his chest. He didn't question you. His usually talkative personality, giving way to an understanding silence as he slowly rubbed your back.

When it seemed that you had calmed down, Seokjin pulled away, looking at you with concern. Without asking you for details, he suggested going on a drive. You accepted, knowing that if you just went home all you would do is wallow. You let him drive you to a burger joint, picking up your favorites, before getting back in his truck. The two of you drove for what seemed a long time, the food getting cold as soft pop music played in the background.

He never once pushed you to talk, letting you take in the trees lining the highway, as you watched the snow glittering in the moonlight on the banks. Finally, he stopped the truck, getting out before opening the door for you, taking your hand as you stepped down from the height.

The view blew you away. He had driven you to a field of sorts, getting the back of his truck ready with some blankets. But it wasn't the pine-lined field that took your breath away, it was the sky. Above you the navy hues of the night were alight in colour, pinks and greens blooming like waves in the sea. Stars prickled through occasionally as the weave of colours danced slowly, mesmerizing you. You don't know how long you stared at it in awe, but when you turned around, he was already sitting on the back of the truck, under a blanket, your food being taken out of bags.

He speaks for the first time when you settle next to him.

"You want to talk now?"

"I don't know." You shrug, rattling the ice in your cup as you swirl around your drink.

"It's okay if you don't want to. Just... do you need to go back?" He seemed hesitant, almost disappointed, as he asked. It was endearing how much he cared about the town not being left without a doctor.

"No. Definitely not." You said firmly, staring at the sky, missing the way he smiled at you in relief. The last thing you wanted to do right now was go back to Manhattan so your parents could tell you how you failed and accidentally run into Jiho and his blonde. Hoping to deflect the conversation, you looked at Seokjin, his cheeks puffed as he took a big bite of his burger. "Seokjin, can you tell me something about yourself?"

"What do you want to know?" He says, sipping his drink.

"I don't know. Anything."

"Hmm... well I'm a nurse and I’m the most handsome man in the world." He laughed, clapping his hands slowly as if applauding his own wit. You rolled your eyes, unable to fight the smile that made its way to your lips.

"Oh my god, you dork! Tell me something real. Tell me a secret." You bumped him with your shoulder.

"If I tell you a secret, will you tell me what's wrong?" You hummed, eyes wide in anticipation as you munched on your cold fries. "Well. I secretly kind of hate this small-town life."

His answer shocked you. In the month you’ve known Seokjin, he has been this little town’s biggest fan. With the number of people who greet him, and routinely give him presents, you don’t doubt he could easily be elected mayor. In fact, the chief of police even suggested using him as the town’s mascot, for crying out loud.

“If you hate it why are you here?”

“Did you know I lived in San Francisco for ten years till last year?” You did not. You couldn’t imagine Seokjin amongst those tech snobs, nor could you imagine him in anything not flannel. “Yeah. I loved it. I worked at this amazing hospital and went out to all these clubs. I was kind of a party animal.” He chuckled, looking at his lap fondly as he picked at the blanket.

“Why come back?”

“Well… my family established this town. We were the first ones here and well I promised my dad when he died that I’d help continue the little traditions in this town.” He shrugged, his mouth a lopsided smile. “Promised him I’d raise my kids here. Family comes before fun.”

“That’s… wow. You must really respect your dad, enough to change your life for him,” you spoke softly, leaning into his lap a little to place your hand over his. “It must have been hard to lose him.”

“It was, but I hope I’m making him proud.” He gave you a genuine smile as he squeezed your hand, before tapping it. “Now enough about my emo self! Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

And so you did. You spent probably three hours out in the cold, before calling it a night. You told him about Jiho and how he broke your heart, and he related by telling you about his own ex that had broken their engagement when he suggested the relocation. Spending time with Seokjin was comfortable, it was easy. There was something about him that warms you up, like hot chocolate on a snowy night.

You hadn’t been that vulnerable around anyone in a while. Your life in New York was calculated, you never knew who you could trust, and so you trusted no one. It felt oddly freeing to be able to talk about your heartbreak and insecurities with Seokjin, and after that night under the aurora borealis, you both became closer. Before, you would only see each other at work, but since then you had been hanging out outside of work a lot. Sometimes the two of you would grab dinner at the local diner, or he would pick you up for working, grabbing coffee and flirting with Doris shamelessly for freebies. The more you spent time with Seokjin, the more you realized how different he was from what you had assumed.

When you first got to know Seokjin, you thought he was hardworking and amiable, but now you knew his dorky side. The side that would come up after a glass of wine, when he would start cracking lame dad jokes, clapping his hands, and laughing at himself. The side that got especially shy, ears turning a bright red, every time you complimented him on anything, be it his work ethic, or a nice new shirt he bought. The side that would go on and on about the Mario universe, regaling you with details about why Wario was misunderstood, or why the movie should only be watched when wasted otherwise it was a waste.

To be honest, you never knew there was even a Mario movie, and when you told him such he gasped loudly, grabbing you by your shoulders and excitedly making plans to watch it together. You wouldn't tell anyone but with your newfound friendship with Seokjin, he had also gotten very comfortable touching you. Maybe it was the aftereffect of being so vulnerable around him that one time or the fact that you were trying to get over Jiho, but every time he pulled you into a hug or brushed past you it made your heart skip a beat. You controlled the flush slowly creeping up your neck, as you shrugged his hands off your shoulders and solidified your plans to watch the movie together.

True to his word, Seokjin showed up at your house with a case of beers, a local microbrew full of hops that made your tongue sing. Halfway through the movie, you had no idea what was happening, Mario and Luigi, who had terribly fake accents, by the way, jumping through trying to save the damsel in distress in what looked like an acid trip. The alcohol didn't help as the plot got more convoluted, but that didn't stop Seokjin from excitedly trying to help you decipher it.

You don't know when it happened, but his arm was around you, casually draped where your head met the couch, his fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as he sipped his beer. You took another sip of yours trying to calm yourself. No matter how many times you tried to focus on the colours exploding on the screen, all you could think about was your hammering heart as your skin heated up under his innocent touch. It wasn't when he abruptly pulled his arm away from you that you were broken out of reverie.

"So what did you think?" He asked excitedly, turning on the couch towards you, a leg moving up and under his other. You hadn't even realized the movie ended. Did they save the princess? Or was it their business they were trying to save? What was this movie even about?

"Um... it was something," you commented, hoping that the vague answer would satisfy him, as you chugged the rest of your beer.

"It's cause you're not drunk enough! Y/N! I told you, you had to get wasted to like this movie!" He whined, clumsily opening another bottle and handing it to you. You weren't drunk, he was right. You were on the right side of tipsy, just on the edge of jumping into oblivion. Seokjin on the other hand, seemed much more ahead of you as he struggled with the bottle opener.

Chuckling, you reached out and put your hands over his, helping him uncap his bottle. You didn't notice how close you had gotten until he whispered thanks and his breath ghosted the skin of your nose. Looking up, your breath hitched as you saw the look in his eyes. Usually filled with mirth, it was jarring to see him looking at you with want, his long dark hair falling into his eyes as they traced your features. You saw his eyes linger on your lips and all you could do was blink. You knew you should move away, he was coworker and friend, but you froze, the two of you lost in the silence.

He made the first move, bringing his hand to your face tentatively. You leaned into it, sighing a little, and that's when you felt his lips on yours. Soft, plush lips that you had imagined more than a few times this past month, molded around yours. The kiss was shy, a little soft as his thumb caressed your flushing cheek. Your hands still on top of his on the beer tightened as you deepened the kiss, and he followed, grunting slightly, his hand moving to the back of your head, angling it a little. You mewled when his tongue licked at your lip, granting him access as it roamed your mouth, easily taking charge as your heart exploded within your chest. You hadn't been kissed like this before, the balance of gentle and domineering, making your knees weak. You were glad you were seated because otherwise, you'd be on the floor.

You don't know how long you were kissing, but the spell was broken as his phone rang, making him pull away abruptly, lips swollen and face red. It took everything in you to not go in for seconds as your mouth followed his. He didn't oblige you though, as he pulled away, resting his hand on your waist as he reached for his phone.

"It's my mom. I'm sorry," he apologized with a pout that did not help how you were feeling. Finding it hard to speak, you simply nodded as if in a daze. His wide, grateful smile made you turn to putty as he answered, only to frown. Quickly ending the call, he grabbed your face and kissed you again, hard but quick, taking your breath away.

"I have to go. I'm so sorry." He looked at you, his forehead pressed against yours, as you blinked. Standing up from the couch, you straightened your t-shirt, as you walked him to the door. He stopped in front of it, his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, making you smile. You felt like a teenager who got to kiss their crush, it was bizarre. Pecking your lips a few times, he bid you goodbye, waving as he walked off, leaving his truck in your driveway.

Shutting the door, you giggled giddily, forgetting all about your earlier worries of maintaining a professional decorum, as your fingertips grazed your lips, still feeling the touch of his lips. That night he messaged you just once, and you reread the text over and over as you fell asleep.

Thanks for watching that stupid movie with me tonight. Can't wait to continue where we left off ;)

The next day you were extremely excited to go to work, changing your outfit multiple times before settling on a pretty pastel pink dress and leaving your apartment, noticing the truck was no longer in your driveway. Stopping by to grab a cup of coffee, you greeted Doris.

“Hi Doc! Happy last day to send Santa a letter!” she chirped as he poured your order. You shook your head in amusement. This was by far the weirdest aspect of this town. They were all so obsessed with Christmas, grown adults refusing to talk about how Santa doesn’t exist. It would be endearing, charming in a way if it weren’t for the fact that Bean There was the location where they collected these letters to Santa, and it was full of people scrambling to write. You would think it would be mostly kids, but you could spot Mr. Hernandez, a sixty year old retired lumberjack, scribbling away, as well as Molly, the recent college graduate. It seemed the town had no age limit when it came to believing in Christmas miracles.

“Doris, I don’t know what’s in the air here, but you guys know Santa isn’t real right?” you whispered, not wanting to incite a full out riot, like you accidentally did when you first moved and made the same comment. Either this town was very much into the spirit of things or you were just too late to catch up to the mass group hysteria everyone seemed to be a part of.

“Y/N! You just have to believe, hon. I’m telling you every year, whatever you write on those letters comes through. I mean you can’t ask Santa for love or anything but anything material comes! Always. How else do you explain that?” You frowned as she pushed your coffee towards you. Sure, you didn’t have a logical explanation for that but that doesn’t mean Santa was real. However, you were in a great mood this morning, looking forward to seeing Seokjin, and so you acquiesced to Doris when she waved a piece of paper, writing the first thing that came to your head which was a snowglobe, since the shelves behind the counter was lined with about a thousand. You could use a cute one to put on your desk, if Santa was in fact real.

When you walked into the hospital, coffee in hand and pep in your step, you looked around for the familiar mop of dark hair, half expecting a ho ho ho, or some cheerful Christmas pun Seokjin usually pulled out in the morning, but you were met with an empty lobby. Even his office was empty. It was odd. He was usually the first one in after you.

Walking into your office you felt your earlier excitement twist into nerves. What if he regretted last night? What if he thought you were unprofessional? But he had texted you, surely he couldn’t regret it too much, could he? Oh! He was so drunk last night. He probably regrets it and now finds it awkward to be around you. Technically he was your subordinate, so were you now one of those creepy bosses they show on television? Inviting your employees to your house to get them drunk and make them kiss you? This was bad. Your thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to focus on today’s schedule in front of you, before, thankfully, Jenny broke through them.

“Hey Y/N. I’ll be taking over Seokjin’s workload while he’s on vacation. Is there anything in particular you need help with today? Otherwise I’m just gonna follow the notes he left behind.”

“Vacation?” you stammered, clearing your throat and taking another sip of your drink.

“Yeah. He takes the ten days before Christmas off every year. Something about a family obligation.” She shrugged.

“Oh. He didn’t tell me.” You tried your best to not sound disappointed.

“It’s been on the calendar for years, doc.” Jenny chuckled as she walked out of your office, leaving you confused as you went to check the employee calendar and lo and behold, there it was ‘Kim Seokjin on vacation’, staring at you. You were annoyed. You expected at least some notice. Did he think he could just kiss you and then go off to wherever he was. Fuming, you opened your phone to text him.

So when were you going to tell me you were away for the rest of the month?

You waited a few minutes, staring at the screen, but when the message still showed unread you gave up and did what you do best when people piss you off. You worked. And you continued working for the whole week, till you were fed up with Seokjin. He had seemed so caring and then to ghost you out of nowhere? Sure, you can expect that perhaps his vacation slipped his mind, but did he suddenly lose his fingers? He couldn’t do you the courtesy of sending a text when you had left on what you thought were nothing but good terms? “Continue where we left off”, your ass.

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

It was two days to Christmas and you were bored. You parents had decided that since you were away, they were going to go on a cruise. Sick of scrolling endlessly through social media, envying your friends, you decided to take a walk to the only place open 24 hours in this town, the diner. It was 2 am and you didn’t think you would see anyone other than Mark, the friendly twenty-year old whose family owned the place.

You were enjoying your plate of fries, and a milkshake when the little bell above the door grabbed your attention off your phone and in walked the last person you expected to see - Kim Seokjin. He was dressed casually as always, his black parka over a white hooded sweater and dark jeans. It didn’t seem like he noticed you, waltzing over to the register to order a coffee as he sat on a stool, waiting for the fresh pot to brew.

Seeing his face, made you stupidly angry. You knew rationally that he didn’t owe you anything, you were just friends. Friends who shared a pretty nice kiss, but you were friends, you had no claim over him, but you still found yourself fuming and getting up from your booth to march over to him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spoke in a normal volume, but Seokjin jumped high, his eyes widening as he put his hand on his chest, staring at you.

“Y/N! Um… what are you doing here so late?” He asked, his eyes shifting around, looking anywhere but at you.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” You crossed your arms, wanting answers.

“I can explain! I swear it is not what you think!” He jumped up from the stool, arms in front of him as he tried fruitlessly to calm you down.

“What is it, then? Did you lose your phone? Did you lose your head?” You scoffed, fully knowing that your comeback was far from witty, but you could barely think, indignation mapped onto your features.

“It’s not that… it’s just… I don’t know how to tell you. I don’t even know if I can.” He rubbed the back of his head, his ears turning red, as they usually did when he was embarrassed. Seeing his demeanour suddenly made the pieces click in your head. There was only one reason people ghosted each other. It was a rejection. You felt your face heat up at the realization, feeling like you were going to cry. Oh, this was bad. You couldn’t believe you were about to shed tears over a kiss. You needed to get out of here.

“No need. It’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take a hint.” You said quickly, your voice seemingly calm given the situation as you zipped up your parka and walked out of the diner, ignoring his calls of your name. If he really needed to explain himself, he could have followed you, but you walked the ten minutes to your apartment alone, burying yourself under the covers once inside. You didn’t realize that unwittingly you had been thinking about your future with Seokjin, picturing dates and waking up together when all he had been doing was figuring out a way to gently let you down. You decided to let yourself feel the sting, dampening your pillow cases, finding that somehow this hurt more than what Jiho did. Who knew the kind, wholesome small town boy could hurt you worse than a cold lawyer from New York?

----------

Having no close friends yet in town and not wanting to burden the nice people who invited you to their homes, you decided to pretend that you were going to New York over the holidays. You stocked up on enough groceries to get you through the New Years and decided to hide out in your apartment. You spent your time cleaning your apartment, doing skincare, reading the latest medical journals, and binging the Crown on Netflix.

On Christmas morning, you decided to treat yourself for brunch, making an obscenely large stack of pancakes, piling it high with fruit and chocolate chips, and drowning it in maple syrup. Foregoing dressing up, you sat on your living room floor in your festive pajamas as you watched the political ongoing of the royal family, and enjoyed your sugar loaded creation. However, before you could truly dig into your pancakes, you were interrupted by a knock on the door.

You didn’t know who would be knocking at your door this early and on Christmas. You weren’t expecting anyone and everyone knew you were supposed to be out of town. Sighing you begrudgingly rise as the tempo of the knocks increased. Huffing you opened the door to be greeted by none other than Kim Seokjin, dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you had the misfortune of seeing and jeans, with a campy Santa hat atop his dark hair. The forest green Christmas sweater, adorned with a stuffed Rudolph and what seemed like real mistletoe, also apparently lit up, the twinkling red and green lights on it glowed in the morning sun as little flurries collected in Seokjin’s hair.

Regardless of the terrible wardrobe choice, you couldn’t deny the sudden pull you felt towards him, your heart skipping a beat at seeing him on your doorstep with a small box wrapped in shiny paper. However, you were nothing if not determined, so you schooled your initial wide eyed expression into a glare as you crossed your arms across your chest and leaned into the door frame.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to give you your present.” Seokjin smiled as he brought the gift towards you, making you scoff and roll your eyes.

“Seokjin, I don’t want you or your presents.”

“Not gonna lie, that kind of hurts.” He scratches the back of his head nervously, sending his hat askew as he sways a little on his feet, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good,” you say as you move to close the door on his face. Not going to lie, you were pretty proud of your resolve. Before you could fully shut the door, Seokjin put his hand out to stop it, jumping a little when he saw the cold look in your eye. Stepping back sheepishly, he cleared his throat.

“Please Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“Go ahead.” Still holding the door half closed, you stared at him, your resolve melting as he seemingly shivered outside.

“Can I at least come in? It’s kind of cold.” You rolled your eyes again, and acquiesced. Not because you wanted to hear him or be near him, but because he looked kind of pitiful shaking in the cold in a sweater that didn’t seem built for the Alaskan winter. Stepping aside you let him in your hallway, leaning against the wall, your patience at an all time low. “Okay. So… um… how do I even start this?”

“Seokjin. Just say you don’t like me and go. It’s Christmas. The least you can do is be straightforward.” His stammering was infuriating. It made you want to kick him. However, as the words came out of your mouth, Seokjin looked shocked, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs as his mouth flew open. It was a pretty funny sight, and if you were less angry you would’ve chuckled.

“Why do you think I don’t like you? What?”

“Hmm… Let’s see you got drunk, you kissed me and then you disappeared! Like poof!” You gestured in the air with your hand, trying to make the point more apparent.

“Well that’s what I am trying to explain!” And now he was gesturing, his hand with the box rising in the air.

“Oh my god,” you groaned.

“Just open this. It will help start my explanation.” He took your hand in his and placed the box on top of it. You eyed him suspiciously as you began to unwrap the iridescent paper. Inside the box was a snowglobe, the scene inside showing a field full of flowers with a small truck with two people on the hood. When you shook it, it came alive with glitter and tiny styrofoam flurries. It was very cute and very reminiscent of the night Seokjin and you first became friends. You loved it, but it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t petty enough to hide your true emotions to look at him with disdain.

“A snowglobe? Okay? So?”

“Don’t you wanna know how I knew you wanted this?” He spoke slow, his words and spaced out as he frowned at your scowl.

“I didn’t want this?” You matched his slow pace, enunciating each word as you raised an eyebrow in question. Why did he think you would want a snowglobe of all things? I mean he knew what you really wanted was those cupcakes that Doris only made once a month, you had told him how much you adored them on more than one occasion. If he wanted to be all romantic he could have at least bribed her for some of those!

“But… you asked Santa for it!” he sputtered, jogging your memory to remind you of the throwaway wish you made in the letter to Santa a few days ago.

“So you steal mail now? That’s a federal offence, you know.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“No! No no no. I don’t steal mail. Unless it’s snail mail because it’s easy to catch.” He laughed at his own joke, but seeing your deadpan expression, he backpedaled, nervously running his hands through his hair again. “No? Okay, bad joke. But I didn’t steal it. You sent it to me! I’m Santa!” He was talking more with his hands than his words, waving them around in the air.

“Your excuse is that you’re Santa? How old do you think I am?” you scoffed, moving to push him out of the door, ignoring how solid his bicep felt under that ugly sweater. How was he not getting electrocuted by those stupid lights?

“No please don’t kick me out! I’m telling the truth!” Seokjin planted his feet in the ground turning around and looking at you with wide eyes, the cinnamon depths softening your anger as you sighed. This was so far fetched, the least you could do was hear him out. If nothing else, this would make a great story to share over drinks sometime.

“You have five minutes. And I’m eating my pancakes while you talk.” You let go of him as you walked into your living room, Seokjin close on your heels. You sat on the floor next to the coffee table and he followed suit, sitting much too close to comfort, his thigh grazing yours as he stared at your pile of sugar.

“Oh. Can I have some?” he asked, clearing his throat at your glare as you aggressively cut into a piece before stuffing your face. The nerve... “Sorry! Okay um… so did you think it was weird that the whole town just happened to believe in Santa?”

“I honestly was going to write a paper on mass hysteria, but yes.” You were much more interested now. You always did find the town's dedication to upholding the sanctity of Santa bizarre.

“Well, that’s because for almost a hundred years, people in this town have been getting what they wanted for Christmas, without fail.”

“Because you’re Santa?” You looked at him, waiting for him to explain only to be met with a soft smile as he nodded. His cheeks puffed up with his little smile and it took all of your willpower not to poke at them. Why did he have to be so cute when you were trying to be mad at him. Also, what grown man insists they're Santa? “So where are your elves? Is Rudolph just hiding in your truck?”

“I’ll have you know I’m an elf-made man!” He joked, his pun making you lose control as you let out a light laugh before remembering you were supposed to be mad and trying to hold a neutral expression. Seokjin, on the other hand, made no such effort, a wide grin adorning his features, making his eyes disappear beneath his squishy cheeks. “Hey got you to laugh! But no. No elves. Just me, well, and my family. It’s the family tradition I was talking about. For generations the Kims have been sending people in this town presents on Christmas in secret.”

“Wait how do you even afford this?” This made no sense. How was he buying these expensive presents, and also Santa was Korean? How did his family even hide this for so long? Why were these town people naive enough to believe this? How did he do deliveries? Did he work with Amazon? You had so many questions!

“Um… I’m kind of rich?” he replied sheepishly.

“Kind of? You give 2,000 presents a year!” Your pancakes were forgotten as you swiveled around to face him, your knees touching his thigh, momentarily distracting him as his eyes dropped to where you touched him, before following suit and facing you. The two of you sat cross-legged across from each other as he started what may have been the most useless and longest rant he embarked on since entering your home, talking animatedly as always.

“Yeah… but that’s not the point! The point is the days leading up to Christmas are really hard and this year I had to figure out how to make the drones work and this kid wanted an exact replica of Han Solo’s gun and those are really hard to find and then Mr. Hernadez decided he wanted a rare Amazonian flower. Like where am I supposed to find a flower in December?! And don’t get me started on Doris she-”

“Seokjin. Relax. So you ghosted me because you’re Santa?” You placed your hands on his knees to get him to calm down as his face seemed so red from his rant you were worried you would have to resuscitate him if he didn't take a breath soon. He calmed down exponentially, taking a deep breath and locking his eyes with yours.

“Yeah, and I couldn’t tell you and if I did tell you, you wouldn’t believe me till today anyway. And just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, placing his hand on top of yours on his knee as he held eye contact, and it seemed like you may forever get lost in his irises. He looked at you with such a sorrowful expression, that you weren't sure if the pout of his lips was exaggerated for effect or if it came naturally to him.

“I don’t know what to say… I kind of have regrets” You bit your lip as you gazed back at him with mischief.

“You do? I… I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might not like me back. Oh. I’m an idiot. Okay. I will see you at work. Happy holidays!” He spoke in flurried words as he tried to stand up before you stopped him mid-rise.

“Seokjin wait! That’s not the regret.” You were quick to stop him as he sank back down, a confused look on his face.

“It’s not?”

“No. I regret only asking Santa for a snowglobe! I should’ve asked for a car!” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh sure! What kind? I can get you a car.” He did not miss a beat before picking up his phone and scrolling through what you could only imagine being his gift list. Wait, were the Kims part of the mafia? You really should ask him where he gets all this money from someday. Nurses get paid pretty terribly, so it's definitely not that.

“Seokjin. I was kidding!”

“Oh. I knew that.” He put his phone down as he looked at you, blinking slowly a few times.

“So you like me.” You ask, leaning in slightly with a smirk.

“Yes.” He answered resoundingly, a determined look on his face as he leaned in as well. The two of you only a hair breadth apart.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You whisper, not wanting to break the sudden shift in the atmosphere, as you looked at his plush lips, before meeting his gaze.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” His voice was lower, a little strained as he looked at you, his eyes jumping from each feature before settling on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Then come sit in Santa’s lap.” He leaned back, patting his lap with a smirk, making you blanch as you pull a disgusted face.

“Okay. I changed my mind.” You leaned back, before he came closer, his hands cupping your face.

“No no! Sorry! I just have always wanted to use Santa puns and you’re the only one outside of my family who knows and I don’t kn-” You cut off his rambling with a kiss, a soft, quick one on his lips that made his breath hitch. He recoiled a little in shock, staring at you before pulling your face to his and crashing your lips together.

This kiss was neither soft, nor short, but a flurry of emotions as you both tried to express what you couldn't in words. His lips were firm against yours as his hands moved down your body to pull you closer by the waist. A soft groan left his lips as you parted yours and he wasted no time starting to explore your mouth, his tongue meeting yours. His plush lips moulded against yours and you couldn’t help the moans that fell out of your mouth. You had missed his mouth against yours, the feeling as refreshing as the crisp sun after a blizzard. He tasted like coffee and you sucked at his tongue with fervour, eliciting a shocked moan from him as his hands left your waist to find your ass, gripping it harshly to pull you into his lap. You wasted no time straddling him, as you grind your core against him, making him groan. He bit your bottom lip as he pulled apart to catch his breath. Staring down at your heaving chest, he traced his hands on your hips, before breaking into a smirk. Gone was the rambling man from earlier, his eyes clouded with lust as he took you in. He leaned closer, his lips on your neck as he kissed from your collarbone peaking through your thin pajama top to your ear.

“Now that you’re finally in Santa’s lap, tell him what you want for Christmas.” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. Wow, he really was not going to let this go. You groaned in annoyance, cupping his face to pull him away from your ear to face you, ignoring the pout on his face.

“For you to shut up.” You kissed him, tilting his head slightly to give you access, before he pulled away, shaking your hands off his face till they rested on his broad shoulders.

“Come on! Let me have this!” He whined, his pout bigger as he looked at you with puppy eyes. You chuckled at his antics, shaking your head as you leaned in for another kiss, missing the taste of his lips already. His hands moved from your hips to the hem of your shirt, slowly moving up under it, tracing over your ribs, just below the swell of your breasts, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Moaning gently, but not one to be outdone, you mirrored his movements, moving your hands down his built chest, feeling the soft material, and groaning in annoyance as you reached the stupid stuffed toy stitched to the centre. You reached the bottom of his sweater, but before you reached under it you pulled away, Seokjin chasing your lips.

“Will this dumb sweater shock me if I put my hands under it?” You huffed and played with the hem of his sweater as he smiled goofily, as if realizing he was wearing it for the first time. The goofy smile didn’t last for long as he moved his hands to cup your chest, massaging gently as he leaned in kissing your sternum, visible from the top button that had somehow loosened during your makeout.

“The only shock you’ll get is how loud you’ll be screaming my name when you cum.” He pulled on your nipples, making you mewl as you involuntarily arched your back, rolling your hips on his. You felt breathless, and you couldn’t believe his stupid wordplay was making you this wet.

“Big talk for someone whining about Christmas puns.” You moaned out as he tugged harder on your nipples in reprimand, his hands pushing against the fabric, as he bit the sensitive skin of your neck. Forgetting your earlier concerns, your hands go under his shirt, feeling his soft skin, the tiny hair on his abs tickling your fingertip, as you push the sweater as high it would go revealing his golden skin.

“Yule be sorry for doubting me.” He finally gives your sore nipples a rest, as his hands move to pull his sweater off, momentarily getting tangled up in, making you chuckle, which he mistakes for praise aimed at his puns, wiggling his eyebrows as he emerges from the monstrosity. If you weren’t so whipped for him, you would have made him leave. You didn’t know if this was a one off, if he really wanted things to progress or he just wanted sex but all thoughts fell out of your head as his lips reattached to your neck, his hands on your hips making you grind against him as the two of you made out like teenagers at prom.

“I will literally murder you if you make another pun.” You moaned out, losing yourself in his touch, his lips leaving behind blooms on your skin. If he kept moving your hips like this you were going to cum. You grabbed on to his hair as you moaned at the sensation your body lit as your clit grazed his length through the layers of clothing. Your legs shook as the feeling in your stomach tightened and Seokjin chuckled against your neck.

“Yeah murder me with that pussy.” You could feel his grin but all your annoyance was forgotten as you felt yourself let go, mewling his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your grip on his hair tightening.

He kissed you as you came down from your high, his erection solid against you as his tongue explored your mouth. When he pulled away he looked almost crazed, the lust in his half lidded gaze mirroring yours as his hands moved to your top, slowly unbuttoning it. “Fuck that was so hot. Let me unwrap you, baby.”

He wiggled his eyebrows again as he looked at you. How could this man be this sexy and this dorky was beyond you. Wanting to see him writhe over you, you started kissing his neck, moving to his chest, leaning him back as you inched closer to the waistband of his jeans.

“You first!” You exclaimed, wasting no time to unbutton his jeans as he sighed in relief, moving to remove them completely before you reached for his boxers. You were a little taken aback when his cock popped out. It was bigger than you thought, head red as a bead of precum glistened in the late morning sun pouring in from your windows. Your mouth watered at the sight and without thinking you licked up his length, his groans egging you on as you bent over him.

“Shit so perfect! So good to me,” he moaned out as you looked at him. His head lolled back as he leaned against his hands behind him, his wide chest rising heavily due to your ministrations. He let out a loud moan, resembling almost a whine, as you wrapped your mouth around his head, sucking softly. You loved that moan, wanted more of it as you took him deeper, his hand coming to rest on your hair. He panted loudly, his moans filling your room, your mind, as you gazed at him looking at you with awe. “This look soots you.”

He really had to make another dumbass joke, didn’t he? You pulled off his length, sitting back as your hand replaced your mouth, slowly stroking him as you scowled at him. God, you wanted him to beg you so bad.

“That better be suit with a u-i or I swear I’m not gonna let you cum.” You gripped him harder, twisting your wrist as your panties get wetter with power. He mewled a little, twitching in your hand as you grinned. His head lolled to the side and suddenly he looked at you, his eyes sparkling with challenge as your words finally processed in his mind.

Before you could react, he was on you. One hand gripping your wrist and other behind your head as he leaned you over till your back was on the cold hardwood floor and he hovered over you. He smirked at you before he leaned in to kiss you sloppily, making you lose all senses.

“Aw sweetheart, it’s cute you think you’re in charge.” He cooed, as his forearms trapped your head, his kisses becoming softer, reminiscent of the first time he kissed you a week ago. He took his time, his weight a comforting presence on top of you as you melted into the floor. He looked at you with adoration when you broke apart, his nose touching yours and a soft smile on his face.

“But seriously, Y/N. I didn’t come here for this. I want this so bad but I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand, drink a milkshake with two straws together. I don’t know! I wanna spoil you!” His voice was low, but his words were fast, like he just couldn’t hold them in any longer. You giggled in disbelief, caressing his back. This man really was going to be the death of you.

“Seokjin you’re naked and you want to hold my hand?” you chuckled as he nodded, his eyes glinting and smiling wide. He reached out to hold your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly, an oddly saccharine contrast to the way he was devouring you moments ago.

“I mean I also want to rail you hard, but yeah I don’t want it to be just sex.” You felt your heart flutter at his words, your face heating up more than it already was and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Me neither.” Your grip on his hand tightened and his cock twitched against your thigh, bringing your lust back to the forefront of your mind as you kissed him again, much more hungrier this time. “So come on get on with it. Choo choo!”

He leaned away looking at you with wide eyed surprise before breaking into a shit eating grin.

“Was that a rail- fuck! You’re perfect!” He gushed as he kissed his way down your body, unbuttoning your shirt as he went. He lapped at your nipples, hardening them under his tongue as his hand pulled your pajama shorts off, your panties following quickly after. You wanted to throw another quick witted remark at him, but all thoughts disappeared at his sudden enthusiasm as his mouth made its way to your core. He began to kiss down your slit, light feathery kisses that had you desperate for more, mewling as he continued.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, it’s really taken a mistletoe-ll on me.” He grinned, his breath warm against your folds. Your retort was forgotten when he slid his tongue inside you, flicking against your sensitive walls before he was sucking at your clit. The pleasure was unbearable and you shook under him, thanking yourself for forgoing carpeting the floors. He put his arm over your hips to hold you down as you chanted his name. You were dripping, your heart beating loudly in your chest as he ate you like a man starved, pushing you closer and closer to your high. You walls clenched around his tongue as you moaned louder, your hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

“I’m so close!” you whined expecting Seokjin to speed up to guide you through your high. He, however, slowed down, the pressure in your belly ebbing slowly away as you whined his name. “Why did you stop?!”

“Tell me my puns are funny.” He looked up at you grinning as you yelped when two fingers entered you. His fingers curled inside you making your back arch as you moaned his name. “Come on admit it, Dr. Y/L/N”

“No… they’re… stupid...” you breathed out as his pace increased and decreased keeping you firmly on the edge, your walls fluttering, your eyes squeezed shut as you refused to beg. He kept up his taunting till you thought you would lose your mind, every nerve in your body on fire as your legs quivered. He was insane! Not being able to take it anymore, you conceded. “Fuck… please! Please Seokjin! Your puns are hilarious. I give! Please…”

“Good girl. Knew you were on the nice list.” he exclaimed as his mouth latched on to your clit and before you knew it you were screaming, your body shaking as you had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, your arousal gushing out of you as Seokjin gleefully lapped it up. You felt a buzzing in your ears, your vision spotty as he coaxed you slowly through your high.

Seokjin kissed his way up your trembling body, and slotting his mouth against yours, he caressed your sides as you tried to catch your breath. When you opened your eyes he was smiling at you, lying next to you on the floor.

“Told you not to doubt me, baby,” he said lowly as his nose bumped yours gently.

“No pun this time?”

“I was gonna say mistletoe-ld but I already used that one.” He grinned.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, facepalming. “Why do I still want to fuck you?”

“Because I’m a sex god.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You stood up, a little shakily, at his comment, looking down at his alarmed face before walking away to your bedroom. Before you reached the door, you looked back at him. Seokjin was still in the same position, looking at you dumbfounded, probably wondering what he did wrong. You rolled your eyes at him as you gestured towards your room.

“Come on Santa, don’t you wanna climb up my chimney?” You laughed at the speed he stood up, his hard erection bouncing funnily as he ran towards you with a dopey smile, placing his arms around you in a back hug as you walked into your room.

“Stop being funny or I’ll fall in love with you,” he whined, rutting against you petulantly, making you giggle. You guided him to your bed, making him sit with his back to the headboard as you grabbed a condom from your bedside table, stroking him to gently roll it over his length. His breath hitched as you climbed over him, your knees on the bed next to his thighs. Seemingly unable to wait anymore, he put his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hungry kiss, a flurry of tongue and teeth.

You rise, your hands on his shoulders as you slowly descend on his, his girth a soothing pain as your walls stretch around him. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths as you stare at each other, face red and eyes blown from lust. For the first time, there was silence between the two of you, your staredown intense as you slowly started riding him. It felt delicious and it took all of your strength not to close your eyes in pleasure.

Your pace increased as Seokjin’s hands were placed firmly on your hips, pulling your hips higher so he could thrust into you. You kissed him at that, no longer able to take his intense stare and he groaned, increasing his speed. His cock rammed into you and you saw stars, clinging on his shoulders as waves of pleasure flowed through you. He kisses and bites your neck, his lips leaving blooms of petals in their trail, as his movements become sloppy.

He leans back a little, grabbing your hand to guide it to your clit, rubbing your fingers on it. The added friction to your bud paired with his wild thrusts has you coming undone in seconds. Your toes curl as his name stretches around your moan and you still in his arms, your vision hazy. He cums shortly after, thrusting in you a few times chanting your name before falling lax against the headboard, pulling you against him.

The two of you sat there for a while, till he softened enough to slip out of you, the feeling sending shudders through the two of you. Placing a hand on your chin, he brought your lips to his, before looking at you with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling.

“So… Merry Christmas?” He shrugged making you giggle, as you rolled off him and sat next to him.

“Who knew I’d be a ho ho ho for Santa?” Seokjin laughed, clapping as he squealed with glee, before calming down enough to put his arms around you, cuddling you close, and grabbing one of your hands in his. He played with your fingers as he smiled.

“I’m sorry I ghosted you. I promise I’ll never do that again.” He kissed your temple, tightening his arms around you.

“It’s okay. You made up for it.”

The two of you spend Christmas morning together. You made more pancakes, dressed in only his horrendous sweater as he belted out Mariah Carey in his underwear. Your heart swelled when he placed gentle kisses on your shoulder as the two of you swayed to the music, barefoot on the kitchen floor. You knew you made the right decision when you moved to Alaska, it just took you this moment to realize how right.

----

I hope you liked this fluffy Christmasy piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#bts fanfic #jin smut #jin fluff #jin x reader #jin x y/n #jin fanfic #btsnoonanet #thebtswritersclub #seokjin smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #purplearmynet #hallmarkevent20

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princesslocket · 3 years

Text

🥣 Made With Love 🥣

Hi hi! Before we get to the fanfic, I'd just like to say a big thank you to @ina11writingexchange for hosting this awesome writers exchange! I'm so glad to have been able to participate for this round as well as being given the opportunity to gift @hachuna yet another gift this year!

With that being said, I hope you enjoy this Hachuna! It was a lot of fun to write ((Btw this fic is also cross-posted on AO3 if anyone is interested in reading it there too! The link is in the title))

If anyone were to ask Endou Natsumi what her favorite pass time activity was, she’d automatically answer with “cooking!” and then excitedly list off all the dishes she had made within the past week. It always amazed her friends just how passionate she was about preparing food in the kitchen.

However, she hadn’t always been a fan of cooking.

Natsumi’s love for cooking had originated during her time spent managing the Raimon soccer team in her middle school years. In the beginning she had been quiet hesitant to even try making a rice ball but after she mastered the art of the rice ball, her love for cooking sparked almost instantaneously. It only took preparing a couple more meals before Natsumi was fully onboard with the idea of preparing food in general. It filled her with a sense of pride whenever she was able to witness the team enjoying the meals she, Haruna, and Aki made for them. The compliments they dished out were a great source of ego boosting as well, but she always made it point to stay humble. And even after the team graduated, leaving her with no one else to cook for, Natsumi continued to search up new recipes to try making for herself in the comfort of her own home.

Over the years her cooking had improved, albeit not as significantly as everyone had hoped for, but just enough to where she no longer mixed up the salt and sugars when she tried baking the occasional birthday cake. It was a subtle yet profound type of improvement that left Endou that much more hopeful for their future meals seeing as he had married her not too long after her cooking had started to improve.

One thing that really helped Natsumi improve in her cooking was through the aid of an old looking cook book she just so happened to borrow from Endou! She’d seen the book several times laying in various places throughout their house but had never bothered to look through it until one day when her curiosity got the better of her and she found herself rejoicing at all the cool looking recipes inside. Oh the joy she felt while flipping through the pages was almost too good. How had she not opened the book sooner?

Following the days upon opening the cook book, Natsumi happily followed the messily written instructions provided by the cook book to prepare dishes that she could only assume had been passed down from Endou’s family. She would later find out from Endou himself that the cook book she had been using was actually Endou Daisuke’s hissatsu manual. The discovery came as quiet a shook to Natsumi seeing as she had been following the instructions of the book for several weeks, even going as far to serving a boy named Matsukaze Tenma some of said dishes as well. But all Endou could do was laugh at the situation they found themselves in.

“You mean to tell me that this really isn’t the kanji for egg?”

“I’m positive, Natsumi. These are the instructions for God Hand- Wait a second! How were even able to mistake this for a cook book? I thought you knew what Daisuke’s hissatsu manual looked like?”

“It’s been a while since I last saw it okay!”

Even after the discovery of the ‘cook book’s’ true nature was revealed Natsumi continued to use it. Admittedly, the food Natsumi made following the hissatsu manual never inherently tasted terribly bad. So what harm was there in letting her continue to use it? As long as Endou was there to assist her with some of the misinterpreted kanji of the book, everything was fine.

Unfortunately, not all good things lasted forever. On one particular day an unforeseen disaster appeared out of nowhere…

Natsumi had been preparing dinner in the kitchen when it happened. She hadn’t thought anything of it at first. Ever since Endou took over as Raimon’s coach, he would occasionally return home late, so why would this time be any different? As the minutes ticked by Natsumi continued to prepare dinner. While she maneuvered around the kitchen she kept herself entertained with the quiet sound of the T.V. playing in the background.

Although she usually paid no mind to what the news anchors were saying, something about that night in particular urged her to listen carefully. She had been cutting away at a bundle of carrots when a certain news report caught her attention. Although they weren’t showing video footage of the incident taking place, the news anchors reported a massive car crash near Raimon.

Upon hearing the name of the school, Natsumi put all food to the side and quickly ran to her phone, dialing up Endou to ask if he was still at the school. Knowing her husband, he would most likely be assisting whoever had been unfortunate enough to get hurt outside of their old school. But when he didn’t answer her first, second, or third call, Natsumi began to worry. The news anchors wouldn’t disclose the names of the people involved in the accident, nor would they show the faces of anyone other than the reporter on duty. They did, however, announce the arrival of special dispatched services on the scene as well as the name of the hospital the heavily injured were being taken to.

After a while Natsumi’s phone began to ring, which she immediately answered. Letting out a sigh of relief, Natsumi pressed the phone to her ear, ready to hear Endou’s cheerful voice. With everything appearing to be taken care of on screen, Endou was surely going to fill her in on everything that had happed. It was a good thing she had prepared so much food for the night!

“Natsumi, it’s Kidou, we don’t have much time- It’s Endou… He got into a car crash and- You need to hurry. An ambulance is already taking him to the hospital but… I’ll fill you in on everything once you get here-“

“I’m on the way.”

Within seconds Natsumi was already racing out of the house, dinner abandoned in the kitchen and T.V still playing quietly in the background. She did everything in her power to get to the hospital as fast as she could but it was too late. By the time she came rushing in through the hospital doors, Endou had been pronounced dead.

Time flashed by in a blur following Endou’s death. His funeral came and went, the days following blended together a little too seamlessly and Natsumi’s love for cooking diminished along with her once cheery life. Without Endou around, she no longer held the motivation to prepare any kind of meal in or out of the kitchen. Even when Haruna, Aki, and Fuyuka tried to rekindle their little cooking arties, Natsumi couldn’t bring herself to make anything. Everything she had ever made was out of her love for Endou.

As time went by, Natsumi slowly began to store her cooking utensils away. If she wasn’t going to be cooking anymore, than why bother keep them out in the open to collect dust?

She was in the middle of labeling a soon to be packed away box of kitchen ladles one day when the sound of knocking stopped her. Setting her marker to the side, Natsumi walked to the front door. Her knees nearly buckled when she gazed out the peep hole to see who was outside.

Standing just outside the door was Endou… But it couldn’t be him, right? He had passed away months ago. She had gone to his funeral and everything! There was no way her could possibly be standing outside. As she was thinking these thoughts an almost indescribable feeling washed over her. Suddenly she couldn’t remember attending a funeral nor could she remember why she had started packing away all her cooking supplies. It was as if she was just now waking up from some type of horrible nightmare, a nightmare had clouded over her real life for the past several months.

Whatever nightmare she been under was finally over. Any trace of sadness and despair melted away the longer she stared at Endou. Instead, the feelings were replaced with joy and relief. Although the sudden change in feelings were a little unexpected, they weren’t unwelcomed. In fact she was all the happier to embrace them!

Not wanting to keep Endou waiting any longer, Natsumi decidedly threw the door open, startling Endou as it swung to the side, and proceeded to jumping into the arms of the man in front of her.

“Mamoru!” Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she pressed herself as tightly as she could to her husband. “I can’t explain it but it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever! Where have you been all day?”

“Woah! I missed you too! Oh man, Natsumi, you wouldn’t believe all the crazy things that happened to me ‘today.’ I’ve got so much to tell you but, uh, I think it’d be best if we went inside first.” Contradictory to his own words, Endou hugged Natsumi even closer to himself, thus rendering any attempt to head into the house useless.

For several long minutes the two stood outside their house, hugging each other, and exchanging a few words before wither one of them made any real attempts to pull away. But when they did, it was Natsumi who moved away. She waisted no time in dragging Endou inside and towards their dining room table, pulling out a chair for him to sit in and then rushing off towards their refrigerator in search of something for them to eat.

Strangely enough, the refrigerator was once again filled with an abundance of food Natsumi had almost no recollection of buying. She glanced a look to Endou, who at first made no comment, but as soon as she turned her back had heard the faintest of words from him.

“I guess time really did reset itself.”

From that day on life returned to normal, or as normal as it could be with Natsumi knowing her ‘nightmare’ had in fact been real but was now a part of a separate timeline of sorts. But seeing as their current timeline was restored, Natsumi decidedly let her supposed bad months drift away.

She started cooking again, only this time she followed tutorials online through YouTube and an odd app called TikTok. When Endou asked why she was following so many different cooking videos, Natsumi would claim that “the hissatsu manual could only offer so much.”

Despite her best efforts her cooking still left much to be desired from. But Endou never truly cared about the overall outcome of the food he’d be offered.

“It’s the thought counts.” He’d tell himself whenever a dish was placed in front of him. “If it’s for Natsumi, I’d gladly eat a thousand more meals of her cooking- I’d do anything to make her happy.”

#inazuma eleven #ennatsu #ina11writingexchange #endou mamoru #natsumi raimon #endou natsumi #angst #implied/referenced character death #But no one really dies #trust me #cooking

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satrangee-ray · 3 years

Text

The Snack of a Lifetime

Book: Open Heart 3 and beyond.

Pairing(s): Ethan × NB!MC {Dr Inara Hepburn (she/they)}.

Rating: Teen+

Summary: Inara barges into the DT room with some obnoxious snacks to force Ethan into taking a break. But is that all they have in mind, or will their brilliant plan saved for later take him by pleasant surprise?

Category: Fluff, banter, life decisions and celebrations 🎉😁✌.

Trope: Weddings and Proposals.

Warning(s): one or two swear words, mention of a sex act.

Writer's note: By the time this starts, Ethan and MC have already said their 'I love you's, are in a committed relationship, and more or less everyone knows about it. In my original HC for Inara and Ethan they don't get married this early, so this is kind of an AU cause I really wanted to write a proposal fic. Also the whole lawsuit drama didn't happen, cause I said so, and most sane people would agree.

Ethan wasn't used to receiving.

It was apparent in the way he interacted with the world, immediately getting suspicious of anyone who would remotely extend some sort of courtesy towards him.

He knew if he ever wanted to have something for himself, no one but he would have to take initiative to go get it. And for two-way processes like relationships, he had no belief whatsoever on the legitimacy of such things.

That was until Inara waltzed into his life, and amazed him with the possibility that he could be on the receiving end of good things without having to worry about any strings attached. Be it love, or a blowjob, or "care", as he previously liked to call it– the best things life ever had to offer were simply falling into his lap, and he couldn't find himself complaining.

Inara cared, in the truest sense of the word.

She cared enough to take off his glasses and cover him up in warm blankets, whenever he would fall asleep with an open medical journal in his hands. She cared enough to know just how he liked his coffee, or to school his scotch habits whenever they would get a little out of hand. And presently, she cared enough to let him work overtime, by agreeing to grab lunch with Tobias instead.

Ethan couldn't afford to take breaks. These days, he had to work even in between shifts, to finish editing his second medical book decently before it's approaching release date.

(One month before Inara's board exams)

The diagnostics office sat deserted, except for one doctor. A wooden desk, with papers sprawled all around. Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose, as he kept his glasses aside.

Suddenly the office door swung open, and three figures strolled in. Two practically tumbled, giggling overenthusiastically. The third one was Harper, who calmly walked in holding a tray, and shook her head with an amused expression.

Ethan looked up, and saw Tobias and Inara, each triumphantly holding up all their 10 fingers at him.

"Ring Chips!" Inara squealed, running towards Ethan. "Si baked these last night, and brought them as extra snacks for her fourteen hour shift today, but of course, we managed to hog some. So dig in!"

Ethan cautiously eyed the bright yellow crisps looped through Inara's fingers, and said, "you're not expecting me to eat those atrocities, are you?"

"Did you just call Sienna's baked goods an atrocity? That's wrong on so many levels E, lemme just get her on the phone..."

"NO", Ethan replied on high alert.

"That's what I thought. Cause bold words for someone who struggles even with a pancake."

Tobias and Harper chuckled, struggling in vain to stifle it.

"Fine, give me one here", Ethan said, extending his hand towards Harper's tray which contained the particular baked snacks.

"Nope, that's not the way", Inara stopped him, slapping his hand. "If you're doing this, you gotta do it right."

A loud exhale escaped Ethan. "What now, Rookie?"

"E, you can't just pick one chip and eat it, okay? You gotta slip it through your finger, and try to grab it with your mouth, the childhood nostalgia way. Like this."

Inara brought their hand to their mouth, and swallowed one whole finger, sucking on it until the chip looped through it flew backwards into their mouth. They proceeded to chew on it, staring straight into Ethan's eyes.

He was so screwed.

Turning away from Inara's gaze with tremendous effort, he wordlessly picked up a chip loop from the tray and tried to slip it into his finger.

"Too small", Tobias remarked, and handed him another. "Try a bigger one."

This time the ring effortlessly slipped through his finger, sitting perfectly at it's base. Ethan stared at it, perplexed, for a few moments.

"Yes! Now consume it with your mouth", Inara's excited cheers continued.

Harper couldn't hold in a scoff, while the youngest doctor in the room remained blissfully unaware of the implications of their phrase.

Ethan's mouth opened in protest, but he realized it's futility immediately and decided to close it. Scrunching up his entire face, in disbelief that he was actually doing this, he lowered his head, and slowly raised his hand to his face.

When his finger holding the chip was well within his reach, he opened his mouth once again to grab it. But just when he was about to take the bite, Inara acted quickly and slipped the chip out of his finger, causing Ethan to bite into his own skin instead.

"Aahh, Nars what the hell! Are you nuts?"

The three other doctors in the room unabashedly cracked up now, not bothering to hide their glee in Ethan being tortured like that.

Inara began stroking his beard softly, before leaving a quick kiss on his cheek.

Shades of light pink took over it in response.

"You should have acted faster, honey", Inara said, taking his hands into theirs. Another gentle peck landed on his lips.

"Now I'm already running late, there's this patient I have to check on, gotta yeet. But you better finish the rest of those snacks, along with the real food we brought you for lunch, and for God's sake, please look up from those damn papers for five minutes, and take a freakin' chill pill!"

The last words were shouted as they rushed out the door.

Ethan and Tobias sighed.

"They're the best thing that has ever happened to you"

"Indeed", Ethan said in earnest. "I'll be very inclined to agree."

(Four months after Inara's board exams)

The gorgeous venue sparkled with chandeliers and boujee people in expensive suits. Small round tables, aesthetic chairs, congratulations in order everywhere. No, it wasn't the medical industry's 'it' couple getting married, it was the 'it' doctor, and the chief of medicine's second book getting launched instead.

Ethan had walked into the Edenbrook atrium that morning like it was a war zone. His expression still spelt terror, as he uneasily shifted his glance between some of his guests, shooting small, forced smiles their way.

"Why do we always have to do this?", he had asked Naveen. "Why couldn't we just release the damn book in stores? Why host a useless social gathering with forty thousand rich snobs who are only any good at showing off and draining your energy?"

Naveen had shook his head and hit him with an assertive "it's necessary."

So currently, Ethan stood awkward to his bones, in the middle of this necessary evil. Until, a certain presence near the door cued him to look up.

It was them.

Pantsuit in a sinful vermillion, the colour glowing bright against their skin. Red bottom wedges, that only aided their boss status. Brunette locks framing their face, so impeccably contrasting the emerald eyes looking affectionately back at him. Those, which never failed to take his breath away.

Inara Hepburn.

His giver, his lover, his Rookie.

And Ethan couldn't be more mesmerized, or reassured.

"Need some help picking your jaw off the floor, Ramsey?" Inara quipped, as they strode towards Ethan, torturously slow.

"I– well…", he stammered, before clearing his throat. "Is that look the reason why you chose to arrive 'fashionably late', and drive separately to my book launch from our own apartment?"

"Yeah, definitely the look, but I daresay some other things as well", they said, placing a playful hand on Ethan's chest. "You'll soon find out."

He smiled warmly at them. "Is that a challenge?"

"Have you ever backed down from one?"

A reckless mistake of letting his eyes slip to their lips, and Ethan couldn't wait any longer. He wrapped his arms around their waist, kissing them hard and deep. Drinking in their mouth, their warmth, their sensations. Aching to draw as much energy as he could to power through this event, from his greatest source of confidence, his only constant supporter.

"I love you so much, Rookie", he panted, after the kiss broke off.

"Some brand new information there", teased Inara, bumping their nose into his. "You know I love you too, E. Now tell me what's bothering you."

Ethan pulled back swiftly at that, and stared at them in astonishment.

"What?"

"What 'what'? It was all over your face when I entered, and you still don't look quite alright. What's wrong, love? I don't recall you being afraid of public speaking!"

"I'd address an audience in my dreams! I just don't understand what's up with these people who come up individually to congratulate me, and purposefully try to expand those two lines into a whole one-on-one conversation. Scandalous!"

Inara nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Such a mood, b*tch, such a mood."

Peels of laughter were shared again, at their effortless mutual understanding, and at the usage of Inara's all time favourite nickname.

"All the best", they wished, shaking him by the lapels of his coat. "Get out there, and kill it!"

About an hour later, applause sounded from every corner of the atrium. Ethan beamed, as he finished reading the last line of a snippet about his latest research from his book.

Clapping proudly from the crowds was Inara, a lover on a mission.

"Thank you everyone, for joining me here today", Ethan said, amongst cheers and buzzing words of encouragement from fellow doctors and other esteemed medical personalities. "I hope I will be able to add value to patient-care through my efforts behind this book. There are some people I would like to specifically thank for being of immense help on my journey till here, so let's begin. Dad, thank you so much for coming to support me. Means a lot. Maybe because of my personal outlook, I could never comprehend your brand of unconditional love, which you so freely offer without actively needing me to work for it. I know now how valuable and rare that is, and how it has helped me grow into the man I am today. For that I will always be grateful. Naveen, thank you so much. You know if I start listing 'what for', I won't finish."

A lighthearted chuckle spread among the crowd.

"You always keep saying my success is my own, but I firmly believe there was no way I would have been the doctor I am without your help and guidance. Thank you for being the excellent mentor and leader by example that you are, you still motivate me to become better everyday. And, last but not the least… Inara."

All eyes in the audience shifted towards one young attending, who was clutching her glass out of giddiness.

"I really want to say thank you, but those two words will never be able to express the amount of gratitude I hold towards you. Before you, my life was only ever about blacks and whites. Giving my everything into medicine, working late nights and coming back to an empty apartment with scotch in my hand, I thought I was doing it all right. But when I met you, got to know you, I… you left me in utter awe of who you are, both as a professional and as a person. I couldn't stop myself from falling in love, and in respect, with your brain, your mind, and your soul. I am so glad you were patient with me while I was busy trying to deny it. You continued to show that patience even until recently, when I was all cranky with writer's block. Now I know the great Dr. Inara Hepburn is also a published novel writer, so of course that bit might have come out of empathy, but nonetheless, I'm thankful for it. Today, I'm about to release a book I put my all into, the information in which might hopefully change the face of what I'm most passionate about – public healthcare, for the better. And I'd rather not share this moment with anyone else. So Inara, would you please honour me by coming up on stage to receive the first ever copy of 'Prognosis and Evaluation'?"

Inara couldn't speak, stunned into silence for a bit. They had no idea Ethan would be the one for emotional public speeches, and here they were, utterly moved, in for another surprise. So would he be, soon, they reasoned in their head, and gathered themselves. Keeping their drink aside on a table, they strode towards the stage, eyes shining with pride, love, and determination.

Determination to get this right.

Ethan took their hand as soon as they stepped on the first stair, and led them upstage.

A copy of the book, new and shining, was lying, all theirs to hold.

'Prognosis and Evaluation: A comprehensive study.'

Their heart swelled at the words written on the first page of the book.

Typical Ethan's handwriting, somehow neat and gibberish at the same time.

'My love, my north star, I promise to never let you down' - Dr Ramsey Ethan <3.

Tears. Instantly, a whole lot of them rolled down their cheeks. They clutched the book hard and hugged it to their chest, holding on tight. Ethan held them in turn, locking their shaking frame in his embrace, as the crowd broke into a unanimous applause.

"E, I don't know what to say", Inara began, on being handed over the mic. "Si would have cried so much if she were present here, Naveen's already crying."

Their grandmentor smiled back at them through his tears.

"The thing is, I love success. I love standing in the spotlight, having my own life, and earning my own achievements. Despite that, there is always a deeper warmth in standing next to someone you love, when they accomplish great things, and shouting "my person!" Today, you've given me that opportunity, and I'm so grateful to you for it. I'm proud of you for believing in yourself, and speaking your voice not as a "mechanism of coping with the means of this corrupt world", but as a means to bring genuine change because you believe you can. I've always seen you try so hard to never let your loved ones down, and that effort is what I'm so here for. People like you are rare, and I'm glad I got one to myself, to constantly cheerlead for, now and as long as you'll have me. I'll never leave your side, Ethan. I'd love us to forever be each other's hype person. Not just in practice, but also… officially."

Three distinct gasps were heard in the room.

Alan, Naveen and Tobias let their pinkies lock into each other.

Ethan's eyes widened, as he took in the meaning behind their words, starting to sense what might be coming.

Doubt. Disbelief. Shock. Anticipation.

In the next moment, they were down on one knee.

"Ethan Jonah freaking Ramsey, will you marry me?"

Dead silence in the entire room, everyone taking in what just happened.

Ethan's hands flew to his mouth.

Minutes passed.

One… two… and five...

No one said a word.

Eventually, the entire audience burst into cheers and jubilation. Even in such a formal event as that, quite a few wayward whistles were heard.

And then there was the man of the hour, standing centre stage, shell shocked. Still trying to process everything.

"Inara... Rookie, I–"

He couldn't. Form words or coherent sentences. His entire focus was on the person and the tiny blue box in front of him.

"There's a ring in there for real?"

'Shit', he cursed internally. What a ridiculous question.

Of course this was real. Their love was real, they were real. He was to get married. What? Wow. Really?

Of course there would be a ring for real.

"Depends", Inara said with a wink. "On whether or not you say yes."

"Come on Ethan!"

Encouragements burst from his acquaintances in the crowd, imploring him to say yes. His three musketeers, however, were heard the loudest.

'Yes', Ethan thought to himself. 'Yes.'

He had to say it.

"Yes", he tried whispering under his breath.

A first time, then a second.

"Yes. YES OF COURSE I’LL MARRY YOU!"

He exclaimed those words in ecstacy before dropping down on his knees as well, and pulled his lover in against him. He engulfed her in his arms, holding her so tight, it could knock the breath out of his chest.

"Yes Inara, it would mean the world to me if I could marry you", he whispered again into her ear.

"Good thing I asked then, E", Inara whispered back, before squeezing him one last time and pulling away.

"Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!", the crowd chanted.

The widest smile ever was shot their way, as Inara once again took hold of the navy box. She waited for both of them to steady themselves, and Ethan found himself holding his breath.

At last, the cover of the ring case slowly lifted, to reveal…

A bright yellow ring chip sitting right into the slit of the fabric in the case.

Confused noises of varying degrees filled the room. Only Naveen, Tobias and Alan watched the whole scene unfold with a twinkle in their eye.

Meanwhile, Ethan's expression progressed from utter cluelessness to gradual realization.

Oh! That ring.

"Wait, how did– how come that snack didn't rot in all these days?"

"Of course it did, love. Our original measuring tape probably decomposed long ago in some trash bin outside a gold shop, after having done its job. This is merely a replica, but you can call it a token."

"Nars… what do you mean?"

"I mean…", Inara said, inserting her hand into her suit pocket, to pull out a sparkling golden band, complete with five little diamonds on top. "May I have your hand?"

"Readily, Rookie… you already have my heart. Always, for as long as you'll have me."

Ethan placed his shivering palm on Inara's steady hand, and she took the opportunity to slip the golden band through his ring finger.

A perfect fit.

With tears in his eyes, Ethan agreed.

"I'm getting married to you."

"I'm getting married to you!"

Inara squealed at the prospect, and Ethan decided on sealing their joyous sentiment by crashing his lips onto hers in a searing kiss.

The audience went wild, but they were all forgotten in the minds of the lovebirds.

"I can't believe I get to call you fiancé", Ethan wondered in amazement.

"Me neither", said Inara, joining their foreheads together.

"Say what, we should ask Sienna to bake our wedding cake. Three tier, with a big old fondant ring chip on top."

"What? Ethan Ramsey wants a huge a** fondant snack on the top of his wedding cake! Are you sure he's okay?"

"Yes, he is, and he would do anything for his fiancé!"

With moist eyes and full hearts, they buried themselves again in each other's holds.

This time, with a mutual promise of a forever.

F I N.

Oukay so this happened. I kinda posted it. Shh, I need to breathe.

Thank you so much for reading, if you've made it this far. I hope I haven't damaged too many of your braincells.

Thank you @gaeipsstuff for naming Ethan's book. I would have never, seriously! Thanks for proofreading and giving a detailed analysis, it came extremely handy during the my edit sessions. Thank you @adiehardfan, @jeetushmannfeelz, you know if it wasn't for the both of you, this wouldn't be up on my Tumblr.

This is my first proper OH fic, with an actual story and shenanigans, so I've been super apprehensive about this. Hence, it would mean a real lot to me if you could tell me how you found it. Stay safe, do what you love, stan pixelated characters, and take hugs. Peace✌.

Tagging: @adiehardfan @irisofpurple @barbean

Others kindly let me know if you wanna be tagged!

#choices open heart #dr ethan ramsey #open heart 3 #open heart fanfiction #mc x ethan #fluff fic #idk what else please spare me

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nomazee · 4 years

Text

Komorebi (2)

komorebi, p.2

synopsis: Tsukishima dislikes the amount of parallels there are with you and Hinata. He dislikes the way you’re so energetic and exuberant when you want to be, and the way you can get along so well with people. He dislikes the way that people are naturally drawn to you, and the way you’re so willing to put time into your dumb gifts and snacks and treats for a team of boys you barely know.

But Tsukishima does not dislike you. And he supposes that’s part of the problem.

series content: developing relationship, (sort of) ooc tsukishima, strangers to (sort of) friends to lovers, angst, fluff, slow burn

(alright!! here’s p2 of this whole mess!! i’m sorry for taking so long to get this out, the week’s been a bit stressful what with school coming up soon.

this chapter is short, and so was my last one and every other chapter i post is probably gonna be as short as this—i mainly want this whole story to be written in these short snippets that contain specific scenes between characters that push how the story progresses, so in a way it’s sort of a collection of thoughts/scenes?? but very....concept/plot-driven. that doesn’t make any sense i’m just spewing words here LMAOA

but tl;dr chapters are gonna be short but for a reason!!! writer individuality or something like that !!!

i hope you guys like this!! thank you for all the support, and happy reading <3)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

Against Tsukishima’s wordless wishes, you become an annoying constant in his day-to-day life.

While you don’t show up to every practice that the volleyball team has, you make a valiant effort to make an appearance at as many practices possible. You never stay for long, twenty minutes at most, and make sure to stay out of everyone’s way if need be. (Though, Tsukishima would argue that that’s still not enough and it’d be best for you to stay out of the gym entirely.)

On the days that you don’t come to practice, in the morning or afternoon, Tsukishima still catches glimpses of you throughout his day despite not being in the same class as you. You’re friends with Hinata—he knows this already—and it seems that you two are loud enough to catch his eye whenever he walks in the hallway.

He makes it a subconscious habit to scoff under his breath and roll his eyes at the sight of you interacting—you know, as friends do—and he doesn’t miss the knowing looks Yamaguchi sends him when he does so. Tsukishima wonders what Yamaguchi knows that he doesn’t know, himself. There’s not much information that fits in that category, to be honest.

Not only do you bake, he learns, but you like making gifts in other forms. It’s annoying how persistent you are with giving these things out—friendship bracelets in painfully bright colors, little canvases of suspiciously similar-looking landscapes that you cover in glitter varnish to make it “prettier” (your words, not his), and even scarves—yes, plural—that you’ve managed to knit neatly and hand out to multiple members of the team (not all of them, as that would be difficult to manage with the yarn that’s in stock at your local craft store and the amount of time that you have on your hands. But Tsukishima is slowly starting to wonder if you’re able to alter the concept of time in an attempt to make as many useless crafts as possible).

He knows that you’re not directly bothering him—which is probably intentional, and influenced by Hinata mindlessly chattering about the tall middle blocker and telling you all about his emotionless disposition—but he still can’t help but be annoyed at all the attention you manage to grab from the team, during practice, no less. He doesn’t care about the sport, he assures himself, but he cares about maintaining some kind of order in an already order-less team of boys.

Tsukishima finds that your presence lingers with all the gifts you decide to give out—he catches colorful bands around the wrists of many of his teammates, which couldn’t not be yours, necklaces around some of the first years’ necks that have been tucked snugly into their uniforms, glittery earrings that Yachi and even Kiyoko have decided to wear with an odd sort of pride.

At the sight of a navy and orange chevron bracelet tied tightly around Yamaguchi’s wrist as they walk home, Tsukishima scoffs habitually. His friend glances up from beside him, brows furrowed in curiosity. Before the boy could ask anything himself, Tsukishima took the initiative to make a snarky comment.

“You’re really wearing that dumb thing she made? Really?” He pauses to avert his eyes from Yamaguchi’s slowly growing smile of amusement, then, “She makes so many childish gifts all the time. It’s getting annoying.”

Yamaguchi hums, smile still persistent on his face. “Maybe you’re just upset that she hasn’t given you anything personal yet.”

The blonde wants to scoff at that, but feels like he’s been doing too much of that so he rolls his eyes instead. “Yeah, sure. Very accurate, Yamaguchi.”

“I’m serious!” His friend responds, the knowing look in his expression returning. “Think about it. Everyone has gotten a gift except you. Maybe you’re just getting angry about that.”

“I’m not a child.”

“I mean, you’re fifteen. I think that’s still a child, technically.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.”

The two walk in silence for a minute, which Tsukishima thoroughly enjoys until the quiet is once again breached by Yamaguchi’s comments.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he starts, “she asked me what your favorite color is. I think she’s making you a scarf now.”

Tsukishima lets out a sigh of mild aggravation. “Great. Now I know to keep my trash can empty so it’ll fit in there.”

Yamaguchi returns his friend’s previous sigh, a tone of resignation hidden in the exhale. The rest of the walk was quiet, save for the loud music playing from Tsukishima’s headphones in an attempt to block out any other potential comments.

———

Within a week, Yamaguchi’s guess about your upcoming gift is proven correct. You catch them both right before they enter the gym for practice, shouting their names in glee as you sprint towards them, a sky blue bundle in your hands.

Tsukishima forces himself to turn around and face you, seeing as Yamaguchi does so. The shorter boy greets you with a smile and a wave, while the blonde stubbornly remains silent.

You look up, the upturn of your lips remaining even when faced with Tsukishima’s disdainful mien. You extend the object in your hand, tassels and all, and Tsukishima thinks, ‘Oh, God. It really is a scarf.’

“I made this for you!” You exclaim, followed by a stupid giggle that tightens the strings in Tsukishima’s lungs for some reason he’d rather not get into. "It’s your favorite color— or, at least, according to Yamaguchi. I hope he wouldn’t lie to me…?” You send a playfully suspicious look at said boy, and he laughs along with you before your attention is drawn back to the still-silent blonde in front of you.

He hasn’t made a move to take it yet, but you’re steadfast in your resolve and pester him again. “Here! You can take it. I used this super soft yarn for this, it was a bit more pricey, but I think it was worth it. My mom helped me pick it out. You know, I almost dropped a few stitches by accident, but I’m thankful it didn’t unravel completely! I think I would’ve cried if it did.”

You ramble on and on about this stupid blue scarf for minutes and Tsukishima wonders why he hasn’t tuned out your voice yet. It rings steadily in his ears, and while he wants to compare it to the annoying chime of an American school bell, he can’t seem to make that connection without feeling as if it’s off.

He interrupts you in the middle of a rant about stockinette stitches. “It’s spring,” his tone is dry and blunt, and he doesn’t look in your eyes as he speaks. “I don’t need this.”

Your smile wavers. Tsukishima is the slightest bit shocked at that—at the falter in your ever-positive demeanor, but doesn’t say anything as you give a laugh (stiffer than before, he notes dizzily) and thrust the scarf at him yet again.

“Yeah, well, it’s for the future! Never too early to start stocking up for winter, you know?”

His eyes finally flit up to meet yours, and for a moment he regrets it. The sun is high, and casts gold glitter in your irises that moves like shimmering fabric with each slight movement of your eyes. You blink up at him owlishly as you wait for a response, whether verbal or in action, and he’s snapped back to the present as soon as your brow furrows.

“That’s stupid,” he says, but a hand hesitantly reaches out to take the scarf from you regardless. He hears Yamaguchi take in a sharp breath of air, and your expression falls completely.

Your eyes fall to the side, a little ways away where a lone white flower sits among a patch of grass. “Right. Sorry.”

Tsukishima doesn’t find any pleasure in seeing your attitude change so quickly. He thinks it’s because he wasn’t expecting a change at all—at least, not in this way. You’re just like Hinata, he keeps telling himself, and Hinata doesn’t get upset over his comments, not sad. He gets annoyed, which is what makes his reaction so funny in the first place.

Why aren’t you getting annoyed? Why aren’t you saying anything back?

“I’ll see you later, Yamaguchi!” You walk off before he can say anything else. Yamaguchi gives you a hesitant wave as you turn around and leave, and only then is Tsukishima aware of the fact that you hadn’t bothered to say bye to him.

Whatever, he tells himself. Doesn’t matter that much. Practice starts soon, he should be getting dressed already. He relays this to Yamaguchi, who gives him a look that borders on concern before letting out a sigh and shaking his head at his blonde friend.

A voice in the back of Tsukishima’s head tells him to apologize the next time he sees you. His conscious mind argues that there’s nothing to apologize for, and he forgets about the entire conflict by the time practice begins.

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1990 Review: Still Possesses Turtle Power After All These Years

Cowabunga all you happy people! I freaking love the Teenage Ninja Turtles. I grew up with it from Turtles in Time, which was my first video game, to the 2003 cartoon, which I covered the first three episodes of last month, and on to present day as I re-read the idw comics after finally reading the original eastman and laird run of mirage, and impatiently waiting for Shredder’s Revenge to come out after a LONG drout of no good TMNT games. I”m a fan of these heroes four, their dynamic as a family, the endless possiblities that come from it’s long history and ablitlity to go anywhere in any genre, and the wonderful goofy shit that happens when you have a franchise about mutant turtles learning ninjitsu from a rat and fighting a dude covered in knife covered samurai armor.

So with me finally covering the guys after almost a year last month and with a new movie set to debut at some point this year, I had the bright idea to revisit the FIRST TMNT movie after way too many years of not watching it. This movie is anear and dear to my heart: When I first started getting into the boys big as a kid with the 2003 cartoon, I badly wanted more turtles. But back then it wasn’t nearly as easy to glom onto some more of the sewer shock pizza kings: Streaming sites with all the cartoons on them weren’t all that accesable, dvd’s were expensive for the 87 cartoon, Mirage wasn’t reprinting the comics in any meaningful way and my local comic shop didn’t have any at all and I could only play the SNES when my brother had it set up on occasion like at our Grandma’s farm.

As you probably guessed though there was one exception: the original 1990 movie, which I got at Walmart for 5 bucks and haven’t let go of since. It was one of my first dvds and is still one of my most precious. Said film hit the spot just right as like my beloved 2003 series, it was a mildly goofy but still fucking cool adaptation that stuck closer to the mirage comics, even more than the 2003 series would, while taking a few queues from the 87 series. This film is as precious to me as the 2003 series and a with a brand new movie coming up, I figured it was the exact right time to dig into this classic: what makes it still good to this day, what’s fun to point and laugh at, and how the heck Jim Henson got involved in this. So join me under the cut as I take a look at my boys first theatrical outing and why I still love watching a turtle.

No One Wanted To Make This: Before we get into the film itself some background. As usual I struggled a bit, but thankfully found some help in the form of this Hollywood Reporter article. It’s a fascinating read worth your time, providing an oral history of the film from the people who worked on it.

The film was the baby of Gary Propper, a surfer dude and road manager for the prop comic Gallagher, aka that guy who used to smash watermelons but now has instead opted to smash what little’s left of his career by being a homophobic douchenozzle. He found an ally in Showtime producer Kim Dawson who’d produced Gallagher’s special. I don’t think there will be more of an 80′s sentence than “Gallagher’s surfer dude agent wanted to make a teenage mutant ninja turtles movie”. Propper was a huge fan of the comics, and with Dawson’s help convinced Laird and Eastman to let them option it to studios.

It may come as a shock to you but the road agent for a homophobic watermelon man and a producer at a niche cable channel wanting to make a movie based on an underground comic book about masked turtles at a time when the two most recent comic book movies were Superman IV: The Quest for Peace and Howard the Duck, did not go well. Every door in Hollywood got slammed in their face, even Fox> Even the eventual backer of the film, Golden Harvest, a hong kong action film studio, took months to convince to actually back the film.

Things did not get easier from there: The films writer Bobby Herbeck had trouble getting a story agreed on because Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird’s working relationship had deteroiated horribly from the stress so naturally the two could not agree on a damn thing and argued with each other. Peter Laird made a tense siutation even worse by constnatly sniping at Herbeck and feeling he was a “Hollywood outsider infringing on his vision and characters”

Granted the script was apparently not great... but Pete still comes off as a pretnetious ass who views his weird indie comic as THE HIGHEST OF HIGH CALLINGS HOW DARE YOU SOIL IT. And continued to be kind of a prick like this throughout the rest of his time with the property.

Thankfully the film found i’ts voice, vision and director in Steve Barron. Barron was a music video guy who knew the producers and while reluctant, eventually dove into the project rightfully thinking the film would need to be a mix of the mirage comics and 87 cartoon, keeping aprils’ reporter job, the turtles lvoe of pizza and their iconic color coding from the cartoon but adapting several stories from the comics as the backbone of the film. The guys liked barron MUCH better and things ran smoother.

Barron also brought in one of the film’s biggest selling points and it’s most valuable asset: it’s triumphantly awesome Jim Henson costumes. Barron had worked with good old Jim on the music videos for Labyrinth, and while it took some convincing since the comics were violent as hell and that wasn’t Jim’s style, Barron eventually got him on board. This naturally doubled the budget, but given Henson’s costumes STILL hold up today and look better than the cgi used in the platinum dunes films... it was a good call. And this was brand new tech for jim, having to invent tons of new ideas and mechanisms just to make the things work, and said things still were absolute hell on the actors. Jim later ended up not liking the film for being too violent... which I find hilarious given how many muppets got eaten or blowed up real good on his show but regardless, I thank this legendary and wonderful man as without him this film WOULD NOT have worked. The costumes here look great, feel realistic, and you can’t tell the actors were dubbed much less horribly suffering in those suits. Much like Disney Land.

The film would get picked up for distribution by New Line, and despite i’ts weird as hell origins and the long shot it had.. the film was a MASSIVE hit at the box office, owing to a combination of Batman 89 the previous year having proved comic book movies can work for audiences, the cartoon’s runaway sucess, and a massive marketing campaign. The film made it’s mark. So now we know how we got here let’s get into the film itself.

What’s the Story Morning Glory?:

So the story for this one is largely cobbled together from some of the more notable arcs Eastman and Laird did before handing off the book to others full time as the stress of the company and the mounting tension with each other made it near impossible to work together on the book itself.

To Save time i’m just going through what hte movie takes from the comics plot wise now to save me the trouble later:The movie takes elements from the first issue (The Turtles, Splinter and Shredder’s backstories, Shredder being fully human and the main antagonist, Shredder’s design and the final rooftop showdown that results in Shredder’s death), second and third, (April’s apartment over her dad’s old store and the turtles moving in when their home is ransacked and splinter has gone missing), the rapheal micro series (A tounge in cheek way of cashing in on the Mini-Series craze of the 80s, a one shot by modern standards and something that’s tragically been underused as an idea as only TMNT and MLP have used the idea at IDW, Raph meeting casey and their fight with one another), the return of shredder arc (One of the turtles being ambushed and mobbed by the foot and then thrown though a sky light (Leo in the comic and Raph here), the turtles being horribly outnumbered by them, Casey coming ot the rescue and metting the non-raph turtles for the first time, and them being forced to escape when the place goes up in flames), their exile to northampton (April writing in a journal, casey working on a car with one of the guys and one of hte guys looking over hteir injured brother), and finally, their triumphant return which was very loosely adapted as there are no deformed shredder clones and shredder not being dead yet in this version was not brought back by a colony of super science worms.

So as for how this all comes together: Our story takes place in New York: A crimewave is high with muggings mysterious. There are a ton of phantom thefts going around and at most people have been seeing teens responsibile. And the police.. are at about this level of useful:

The only person doing something is April O’Neil, played by Judith Hoag. Hoag is easily the standout of the film, giving us a strong, confident woman with a wonderful sense of humor. She honestly might be my faviorite April O Neil, and given we’ve had some great ones with 2003, 2012 and Rise, that’s not something I say lightly. I honestly wish I’d recognized her in more stuff as she was both on Nashville and the mom in the Halloween Town films, and most recently was on the ScFy show the magicians. She’s a talented lady and i’m glad she’s still goin.

April is a reporter for Channel 3 like the cartoon, though for some weird reason her boss from the cartoon is replaced by Charles Pennigton, played by Jay Patterson, whose currently dealing with his troubled son Danny, played by Micheal Turney. Pennington is horribly useless at both jobs: At work he tries to ease April off calling out Chief Sterns, who refuses to listen to April’s evidence gathered from japanese immigrants that the crimes resemble similar ones in japan in favor of trying to get charles to shut her up. Danny meanwhile is a member of the foot becase his dad thinks shouting out him and talking about him like he’s not there and generally being a dipstick will actually do anything to help him.

I love the concept for the foot here. In addition to being a Ninja Violence Gang as always, they now recruit new members by finding kids without families or with troubled family lives and giving them a sense of family with the foot, and sweeting the bargin with a giant cave filled with arcade machines, a skate ramp and general late 80′s early 90′s kids goodies. Is it rediculous? Yes. Is it also clever as it gives Shredder an easy army of plausably deniable theives that he can pick the best out of to put in his elite that will be tirelessly loyal to him and him alone? Also yes.

So April being public about this stuff gets her attacked, which naturally leads to our heroes coming in, first in the shadows and later directly when April wont’ give up on the case and Shredder sends some ninjas to go shut her up.. which he does weirdly as the guy jsut slaps her and tells her to cut it out like he’s on a domestically abusive episode of Full House. Raph saves her, and we get the turtles origin.. though weirdly they cut it in half. We get the ooze portion but Splinter’s past with Saki, Saki’s murder of his master and his master’s partern Tang Shen is left for later in the film and the fact Shredder’s saki is treated as a big twist despite the fact the biggest audience for the film would be kids... and kids would’ve been familiar with the cartoon where the giant brain monster routinely screeches out saki at the shredder. Maybe Barron just thought he was an alcoholic I don’t know. It just would’ve made more sense to have it all at once and let the audeince put it together.

April becomes good friends with the turtles over a night of frozen pizza and camradrie, but the Splinters return home to find it ransacked, Splinter kidnapped by the foot, and are forced to Stay with april. Charles meanwhile tries to get April to backoff because he made a deal with the police to clear Danny’s record, without TELLING her any of this mind you, but I will save my rage on that little plot point for in a bit as Danny who he drug along sees the turtles and tells the Shredder.

So we get the return of the shredder arc as Raph goes through a window, our heroes fight valiantly, and Raph’s friend Casey who he met earlier shows up, the two having bonded as all true friends do.. by beating the shit out of each other ending with raph shouting DAMNNNNNNN really big and dramatically into the sky for some reason. The Turtles and friends escape with an injured raph from April’s burning second hand store. She had a second hand store it was poorly established and only there because she had it in the comics.

Our heroes retreat to a farm April’s grandma owned in Northampton, Massachutes, where Mirage was located at the time the original comics where they were exiled to the place were written and a location that has been a staple of the turtles ever since. The turtles slowly recover, lick their wounds, talk about who hooked up with who on gilligans island etc, before Leo connects with Splinter via meditation, who tells them to come back. Splinter also starts to connect with Danny and convinces him to swtich sides.. or at the very least squat in the boys old home.

The boys return home, find danny, and prepare, Danny goes back and ends up giving away the Turtles are home.. but the turtles are ready and in an awesome sequence kick the fuck out of the foot squad sent for them with some well prepared steam vents. Casey goes to get splinter since Danny told them and with Danny’s help, finds him, since Danny found out they were gonna kill him. Casey beats up Tatsu, shredder’s right hand man, and they get him out.

We get our final fight which is awesome up until the climax.. which is splinter casually tripping shredder with nunchucks and thier bloody history being kind of rushed and unsatsifying. Casey crushes shredder with a garbage truck, April gets her job back, more on that in a moment, she and casey hook up, and we end with the fucking awesome song T-U-R-T-L-E Power by partners in cryme. Seriously check it out it’s fucking triumphant.

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The song is just good.. cheesy? Sure but that’s half the fun. It’s the gold standard for movie theme songs for them and stacks up handily with the various animated series themes.. all of which slap. Okay... ALMOST all of which slap. Fast Forwards is aggressively medicore, which is doubly suprising to me since 4kids was REALLY damn good with theme songs. It was one of the three things they were best at along with finding VERY talented voice actors and setting japan based works in america because merica dammit.

The plot is very solid: It skilfully packed half of eastman and laird’s run on TMNT into 90 mintues while adding things like April’s job at channel 9, the way the foot recurited kids etc. The plot flows well for hte most part and apart from one annoying subplot we’ll get to never has a moment that feel unecessary or dosen’t pay off later. And the stellar plot and fun pacing of it helps boilster the characters that do work... and help paper over the ones that are so thin the’yd fall down a grate...

Our Heroes, Villains and Annoying Middle Aged Guys:

Yeahhhh character is hit and miss here. Some are rather strong, others are the bare basics for the character their adapting and most are just to serve the plot but some work some don’t, So let’s talk about it starting with our boys:

Raph is the most fleshed out of the turtles, being the main focus of the first 2/3 of the film, and having his anger be part of what SHOULD be a character arc, learning to temper it. And while granted MOST TMNT properties do this, to the point that Rise Raph is so loveable in part because his boisterous bruiser big bro attitude is a refreshing break from the usual grumpus we get. But at the time this hadn’t been done in every version but the 87 cartoon, so exploring it was valid.. but despite saying this should be a thing htey just forget about it and the most plot relevance he gets is going thorugh a window. He dosen’t really get a resolution.. his arc just kind of stops dead for the final half and it’s one of the film’s weaker points, one I only just now noticed on this rewatch. He’s still the most entertaining.

Leo is the weakest of the turtles. He really lacks a personality here mostly just being leader and while his spirtual side is touched on, it’s mostly a plot device. He’s just kinda the leader because he was in the comics to the point Partners in Cryme called Raph the leader. His role in getting taken out by the foot was taken by Raph, so he just has.. nothing to do for most of the film other than gripe at raph ocasionally and say orders. He’s probably the worst Leo i’ve seen outside of Next Mutation. I prefice that because after watching Phelous’ review it’s VERY clear those four are the worst versions of the characters, and no personality is still better than either having your team do nothing or yelling at them as your personality. I chalk this up to the Mirage Leo, and the mirage turtles to a poit being kind of bland. Not TERRIBLE characters, especially for the time, but not nearly as fleshed out or individualized as they woudl be in other adpatations, and with most traits LEo DID have, like his badassery flat out gone, he’s just.. nothing here.

Mikey and Donnie are a double act here with both sharing a brain. Interestingly instead of his normal genius character, Donnie is Mikey’s best friend and the two simply trade jokes and schtick together. The two are interchangable.. but easily the best part of the film and a lot of the most memorable gags and lines, from Ninja Kick the Damn Rabbit! to “Do you like Penicllin on your pizza”, are from them. Thier there almost entirely as comic relief but it works, with both clealry being more modled ont he 87 cartoon turtles, a move that helps lighten the mood in darker moments. Their just genuinely charming and it’s intresting to see such a diffrent version of Donnie, and other incarnations, specifically the 2003 and Rise versions, would retain the sarcastic edge.

Splinter is splinter. That’s about it, he’s peformed well and the puppet is amazing but he gets kidnapped a half an hour in and outside of influcencing Denny, more on that in a moment, and finishing Shredder he dosen’t do much but spout exposition. He’s not bad or anything, but he’s essentially a rodent shaped plot device. He was also puppeted by Kevin CLash, aka the guy who does Elmo. So there you go.

April on the other hand.. is truly excellent. This might be my faviorite April. Judith’s april nicely blends the cartoon and mirage versions: She has the cartoons energy and job, but the comics sheer will and casual nature. Judith just oozes personality and her April is just a joy to watch, from her breezy chemistry filled interactions with the guys to her confrntation with Chief Sterns, knowing she’ll get thrown out by the asshole. She’s confident, and even when afraid dosen’t back down to her attackers and even helps out during the sewer ambush. I mean it’s a pot on the head but still it’s neat. She’s easily the best part of the flim and the most fleshed out of the cast. The worst I can say is they kinda shove her store from the comics, Second Time Around, in there for no other reason than it was in the comics: It dosen’t come up until it’s needed for the foot’s assault on her place. But overall.. she’s just fantastic to watch.

Speaking of fantastic to watch, Elias Koteas is fantastic as Casey. Seriously he’s only second to the 2003 version in my eyes, getting the concept of a testorone filled average guy who decided to just go out and hit people with sports equipment after watching too much A-Team.. I mean that part of it’s not in this version but it’s implied, just right. Like judith, Elias is just really funny to watch and his big scenes, showing up just in time during the foot assault on april’s place and his fight with Tatsu are some of the best parts of the film, the former taken directly from the comics. This version isn’t without problems: His friendship with Raph, his most endearing aspect and one that has been carried throughout eveyr version Casey’s important, with the only exception so far being rise and we have a movie to fix that, is absent here. HE does save the guy, but they don’t really bond or anything. In fact he disappears for about half an hour after his big fight with Raph. But... again he’s just so damn entertaining, down to his JOSEEEEEEEEEEE Conseco bats (There was a two for one sale!).

Shredder is just a LITTLE better than splinter, if only because his actor projects a true aura of menace and I feel this version had some influence on the pants crappingly terrifying 2003 version. And the idea of the foot recurting teenagers like I said is a good one: He gives them home and a cause, they give him plausably deniable backup. And his fight with the boys in the climax is really awesome... the conclusion sucks but otherwise h’es okay. Not the deepest villian, but he has enough presence to be enjoyable.

His right hand man Tatsu, whose been adapted ocasionally since this and reimaigned as Natsu in the IDW comics, a female version, is also fine. He’s your standard grimacing goon but has enough presence to work.

So that brings us to the penningtons. Charles, april’s boss at the station and his son Danny who’s joined the foot as he feels his dad dosen’t love him. Charles..is about as interesting and likeable as a dog turd and is the worst aspect of the film. No debate there, he just sucks. He sucks so hard he’s classified as a black hole. The film wants you to see him as a put upon wokring dad whose frustrated with his son’s increased moodiness, skipping school and crminal undertakings and just wants to help him and loves him deep down. The problem is his actor’s delivery instead of concerned.. is just pissed. He just seems pissy and upset about the whole thing and comes off like he’s only mad about Danny doing this because he’s embarassing him and not because you know, it’s bad. When confronting Danny about stealing, he dosen’t consider MAYBE he’s part of a gang or needs help, but just wonders “Why are you stealing when I give you stuff”. Because, Dipshit, sometimes kids do crimes not because they need the stuff but because they WANT to, and because they want to act the fuck out.

The most he does for the kid is agree to try and get April to back off the police when Cheif Sterns offers to let Danny go and not put him on record in exchange for it. The problem.. is this makes him even MORE unsympathetic. While I do get wanting to help your child, I do and it’s a sucky position... he again should be sympathetic.. but he handles the thing so badly it sucks. He just tells april to ease off, with no reason given, then fires her when she SHOCKINGLY dosen’t give up taking the guy whose refusing to take her hard work seriously or actually solve the crime wave problem to task for his shitty behavior as ANY person facing a shitty, corrput cop would. She just wants to hold him acountable and get him to actually do something. He clearly knows her on a personal level too as he talks about his issues with his son freely with her, something you don’t do with an employee unless their also a friend on some level.

He could have TOLD april what was going on. She’d be furious at Stern’s naked corrpution and prioritizing shutting her up over actually solving crimes.. and thus put at least some of that energy into shutting him down or finding a way around it, going to the papers or something like that. Even in 1990 pre-internet, there were ways to get around Sterns blackmail and expose him so someone who’d actually do the job could get the job. Instead he just comes off as a selfish coward who rather than try and fight the guy blatantly abusing his power and using Charles own son as barganing chip, goes along with it because it’s the easier option to simply bow to him instead of TRY and stop this. And it’s not like he’s even going after a beloved public figure or someone who could hide behind his rep: Sterns was blatantly failing a crime wave, April had called him out on his failrues and coverups multiple times. The public was against sterns.. finding out he tried to blackmail the media into shutting up about him would PROBABLY end him... I only say probably not because the public wouldn’t skewer him, but because police tend to escape consequences for blatantly murdering someone on a daily basis and Andrew Cumo is STILl mayor over in new york, the same city this movie takes place, 31 years later, depsite EVERYONE asking him to resign over a long history of sexual harassment and a more recent but still horrible history of hiding death numbers. I don’t doubt people being stupid enough to ignore this or the bilaws with cops being stacked enough for him to get away with it, but just because someone gets away with a crime dosen’t mean you shoudln’t try and go after them in the first place. Fuck. Charles. Pennington.

Danny on the other hand is FAR more interesting and I think gets way too much flack when it comes to this subplot. Unlike his dad, whose dead weight, Danny is intresting: He provides a POV character for the foot’s MO in the film of taking in wayward teens, and his character arc is pretty engaging, slowly realizing the foot dosen’t care and that hte turtles are the good guys. HIs actor does a great job and while not the biggest presence, he’s not a bad addition to clan hamaoto and I wish other adaptations would find a way to use him. The pull between doing the right thing and his found family is a good struggle. My only real issue with his plot is the moviies flawed aseop about family. It tries to contrast shredder and his using the kids blatnatly with Splinter and Charles really loving their sons. And it works with Splinter and the kids because despite being a tad strict, Splinter clearly loves his sons and works with them to help them. The problem is ENTIRELY with Charles and Danny. As I said Charles love comes off as transasctional: He either thinks he can buy it or just expects it because he shot a bunch of goop into Danny’s mom after two minutes of disapointment. It dosen’t work with them because neither option is good for Danny. His father is neglectful, chooses throwing his jounralistic integrity out the window over talking to his son or his best friend about another way, and abrasive. Danny is no saint, he does do crimes, but it’s clearly a result of a shitty upbringing and the shredder and co actually offeirng him the love he desperatly craves. Danny goes to the foot because his dad is bad at his job but the film never adresses that and just expects Danny to go back to his dad because the plot says so. Danny would HONESTLY be better off with Splinter. No really. Sure he’d have to live in the sewers.. but he did so for a few weeks in the course of the movie. He’s fine down there. Splitner actually cares about him and took an intrest to him and knows how to raise a child. Let him become the fifth turtle. An aseop about family is not a bad thing: Loaded subject that it can be given how many outright abusive families exist, i’m one of the lucky ones who dosen’t have that issue, family is an important thing and can be a source of comfort and support. But this film tells you you should love and respect someone who does not love, respect or value you because he spent a minute in your mom’s vagina and that’s not how family should work and is outright dangerous to kids in an abusive situation. Love the film otherwise but fuck this aseop skyhigh.

Final thoughts:

Overall though.. the film is bodacious. It’s funny, well paced, has an awesome cast, and outside of a certain bald asswipe... it’s a really good superhero film. Is it the best i’ve seen? Nope. Not even close and character wise most of them are as thin as a wet paper bag covered in ranch dressing. But it’s still a fun as hell with awesome corepgraphy, a killer soundtrack, seriously the soundtrack is damn excellent and only didn’t get it’s own section because I didn’t have enough to say and some of the best effects work i’ve seen in a film in the turtle suits. If you haven’t seen it I urge you to check it out: it’s a breezy 90 minutes, it’s on hbo max and it’s a shell of a time. Will I do the next film?

We’ll see how this one does like wise and such, but I will be doing the rise film whenever it comes out this year. So look for that and keep possesing turtle power my dudes. If you liked this review subscirbe for more, join my patreon to keep this blog a chugging, comission a review if you have more turtle stuff you want me to cover, and comment on this. What do you think of the movie, what are your thoughts on the review, what can I do better, what other turtle stuff would you like me to cover/ Let me know and i’ll see you at hte next rainbow.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 1990 #leonardo #raphael #donetello #michealangelo #casey jones #april o'neil #the shredder #oroku saki #new line cinema #golden harvest #film #90's movies #the 90's #partners in cryme #judith hoag

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elexuscal · 5 years

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How The Steven Universe Movie Did Amnesia Well

Last week, I made a post covering the Dos and Do Nots of amnesia stories. What inspired it was the Steven Universe movie, which I personally thought was one of the best examples of how to make this kind of plot work.

So using the Four Elements I noticed as recurring in good memory-loss stories, I thought I’d use the film as a case study:

1) Emotional Weight

This is what Steven Universe has always excelled at, so of course it hit this one right on the head.

In many ways, amnesia is a threat perfectly suited for Steven. He is a character defined, more than almost any other I know, by his relationships. His love for Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl is the defining aspect of the show, and its main plot has always been how the four of them worked together to grow and develop.

Taking those relationships away from him is probably one of the scariest things he could experience.

Then, we have the flip side; how the Gems themselves react to memory loss. This is given less focus than in most amnesia stories, since they all essentially react like computers being rebooted. It’s a different and fun take.

The Gems’ reactions comes from getting their memories back- and those moments are some of my favourites in the film. Amethyst surprise quickly transforming into joyous laughter. Pearl’s self-satisfied pride as she gazes down at herself. Garnet calmly and confidently bursting into song as she defends Steven.

Which leads us into the next point...

2) Character

When you get down to it, this film mostly functions as a big character study.

By resetting our main characters, it puts into stark relief just how much they’ve grown. Ruby and Sapphire are no longer tools, blindly following fate. Amethyst isn’t a lost kid seeking her own identity. Pearl isn’t a blindly loyal knight who needs external validation for her own self-worth. And Spinel isn’t a toy who will tirelessly chase a single person’s affection.

Getting the gang’s memories back involved building back their core- and one of my favourite details is how that wasn’t what Steven or the audience initially would have guessed.

Amethyst wasn’t returned by playing games, or eating, or singing; it was Steven’s loyalty and companionship.

Pearl, who’s so often defined by her relationship with Rose, is actually brought back by ideas of freedom and self-actualization.

A huge part of Garnet’s identity is obviously fusion. But from the day Sapphire and Ruby ran away from Homeworld, they’ve been searching from answers- something later hammered in by how poorly they took Rose’s lies. Of course, their final piece was truth and honesty.

–

3) Plot

Okay, so, admittedly, I don’t know much about how this film is going to impact the show’s long term plot going forward. It’s possible the regenerator stuff will play a significant part moving forward; it’s possible the story will be more self-contained. On that side, we’ll just need to see.

However, I would argue that the memory-loss story line worked very well specifically for developing Spinel’s character, and giving her story-line proper development.

When Spinel first appears, she’s not very sympathetic. She attacks out of nowhere, is cruel and dismissive, and wants to destroy Earth. Steven (and to a certain extent, the audience) has no reason to like her.

Okay. So, to make her sympathetic, the writers need to a) show what she used to be like and b) how her trauma changed her.

One way to do this would be through flashback. Flashbacks are often a very powerful tool, but of limited use in this particular case. You could only make scenes of Pink and Spinel playing engaging for so long.

So, instead, the writers have her get reset in the present. This solves the problem, while also having her interact with the main cast. She gets to develop a rapport with Steven. We see her genuinely sweet and fun personality, while at the same time, the annoying and grating aspects of it. Both of these are vital to making her full backstory land.

Spinel’s backstory was being abandoned; these fears get mirrored in the present. Steven is kind and supportive to the mind-wiped Spinel- kinder than a lot of people probably would be in his position. But he’s honestly not giving her a lot of attention. He has bigger problems, both on a personal and world-ending scale, than babysitting a Gem he just met.

Steven would rather spend time with his ‘real’ friends than her. So we’re able to see Spinel’s fears play out all over again.

Because of her time with amnesia, all of Spinel’s behavior in the third arc is so much more painful and understandable than it would be otherwise.

---

4) Thematic Resonance

Not only does amnesia serve Spinel’s story in a structural way; it also works thematically.

Spinel represents lost innocence.

She was a child’s toy, lost and abandoned. She became angry and bitter and jaded, and for good reason.

But she wanted to go back to the way things things were. Her plan was literally a way to accomplish that: Wipe the memories of the friends Pink chose over her. Destroy the planet that she chose, too. And then, goad Steven into attacking her with the regenerator and wiping her memories, as well. Now Spinel can forget all the awful things that happened to her. Everything can go back to the way it used to be.

But it can’t.

On stagnant and static Homeworld, maybe regenerators are reasonably effective. On Earth, though, they’re next to useless. Exposed to the same stimuli that changed them in the first place, all of the wiped Gems get their memories back in less than a day.

The message is clear: You can’t forget the past. You can’t ignore it. You can’t stop change.

“That’s easy for you to say!” Spinel yells. “When you change, you change for the better! When I change, that’s for the worse!”

But that’s not true. Spinel learned from her experience; learned to value herself, learned to live for her own sake. Forgetting all the bad stuff that happened would erase those lessons too, and leave her open to being hurt that same way again.

And yes, her trauma drove Spinel to viciousness and cruelty. But that’s the thing; she can change that, too. But only by accepting it, and choosing to move forward.

#steven universe #spinel #pearl #garnet #amethyst #amnesia

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leutik · 3 years

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Literature between Political Correctness and Cancel Culture

(Analyzed through Walter Siti, Natalie Wynn and Rick DuFer.)

(buckle up, because if you're gonna read this, it's gonna be long)

«Today is much easier to mistake an author’s personal stances with the content of their works, and then make the author pay for the work’s sins.

Today I look around and I have the sensation that literature is no longer taken seriously: that the way to interpret literature the way I knew it, depth-focused, focused on the power of words to reveal truths otherwise concealed to their own author, is disappearing — substituted by a conception of literature that has to serve a list of good causes.

When some writers of the “neo-effort” (Siti’s neologism) insist on the fact that words are decisive, and that it’d be urgent to change the words in order to change reality, I’m suddenly reminded of those old Marxist authors: they explained that the structure, which is what lays under society, determines what lays upon it, that is words and ideology. Thus, changing the name of something doesn’t change the thing the word stands for at all.

Literature has been considered throughout time the most indicated form to make resurface the part of ourselves — often, the least pleasant — that we’ve exiled in the shadows of our subconscious: a process that often happens without the author’s acknowledgement of it.

The authors of the neo-effort believe they have the duty to spread their ideas to the largest possible number of people and that, in order to do so, they have to simplify as much as they can what they write, sacrificing on the altar of efficiency the style, considered useless. The aim is to do good, namely gain an effect, what does it matter if it’s good or bad literature? Literature used to “take root”, to influence; put at the service of pre-established ideas, and not to venture into the discovery of something we don’t know yet. This way, it gains an ancillary role. And it’s a humiliation of literature — which can truly be useful, instead, only then it hurts.

Sartre’s “Nausea” doesn’t align with his political stances. For Sartre, the effort was the individual reflection of a society in perennial revolution, substantially a school of liberty, whilst for neo-effort the role of literature is to reassure.

Their attitude, their rejection of style, their low consideration of literature, tends to isolate the good writers out there, marginalizing them in a niche that looks like a convention of obsessed aesthetes in the public’s eyes.

I see it in the writing courses I teach: more and more young people whose main interest isn’t to write to learn something about themselves or society, but it’s to write to gain the title of writer and place themselves on the market, detecting the most profitable sector at the moment, which might be fantasy, crime, or effort-centred writing: it doesn’t matter, what matters is for it to be trending and to be reassuring to the reader, in a more and more therapeutic conception of writing.

Literature isn’t immediately therapeutic, this is the difference. When “The Sorrows of Young Werther” was published, copies of this book were burnt, because of the suicides it inspired. Today we read it at school. How much time has passed? I don’t refuse knowledge’s benefit, I refuse that knowledge can benefit instantly, painlessly. When I went to a psychoanalyst to face my neurosis, the psychoanalyst made me suffer for months, and only after I took benefit from it. What would have happened if they had welcomed me with a pat on the back and said “Don’t worry, stop thinking and go help African children”. Probably I would have had an immediate benefit, but all my neurosis would have stayed there, intact.

The Literature I talked to you about is depth-centred, and literature hasn’t always existed: thus it can disappear, sink for many years. Who said that it’ll survive, despite everything?

In Pasolini’s trial he was acquitted because Ungaretti was called to testify. He wrote a letter where he wrote that the formal value of Pasolini’s work turned into literature even those scenes that the prosecution deemed obscene. Law couldn’t do anything but recognize the critical judgement and welcome it. Web’s tribunal, today, would have burned Pasolini at the stake, and Ungaretti with him.» (via Walter Siti’s interview with the Huffingtonpost)

In other words, we can summarize Siti’s view with the sentence «novels aren’t the cure to the world’s evils.» They aren’t, because they don’t have the power to be, and more so they aren’t even supposed to be: writing is a form of art, and art has primarily an end in itself. Literature isn’t a political marketplace, even if it can be used to be — it’s not a crime to turn it into one, but by doing so, one loses Literature’s nature. By doing so, the harm could be mistake literature’s primary aim (that is being a form of art, that is style, that is the pursuit of the truth) with what they turned literature into: a marketplace to defend the author’s ideology.

Siti’s powerful image of the Web’s tribunal, the Web’s court finds an echo in Natalie Wynn video Canceling: in a sense, what Siti calls “neo-effort writers” fall under the same line of thoughts of Cancel Culture perpetrators.

«Like the guillotine, [cancelling] can become a sadistic entertainment spectacle.

Now there's a version of this conversation that's already been had to death, and it goes like this: On the one side are a bunch of male comedians who constantly bitch about how Cancel Culture is out of control, you can't joke about anything anymore without these Millennial jackals trying to get you in trouble.

And the other side is mostly progressive think-piece authors who argue that there's no such thing as cancel culture, it's just that powerful people are finally being held accountable for their actions and they can't fucking handle it, so they go around bitching about cancel culture.

Now unfortunately, neither of those viewpoints is quite as correct as some people might hope.

What Cancel Culture does, [is to] take one story and transform it into a significantly different story.

Presumption of Guilt

There's a traditional understanding of justice according to which, before you condemn or punish a person, you hear the accuser's side of the story and the accused's side of the story. You allow both sides to present evidence and only after everyone involved has had a chance to make their case do you pass judgment and punish the convict.

But cancelling does not abide by the law. Cancelling is a form of vigilante mob justice. And a lot of times, an accusation is proof enough.

Abstraction

Abstraction replaces the specific, concrete details of a claim with a more generic statement.

Essentialism

Essentialism is when we go from criticizing a person's actions to criticizing the person themselves. We're not just saying they did bad things. We’re saying they’re a bad person.

Pseudo-Moralism or Pseudo-Intellectualism

Moralism or intellectualism provide a phony pretext for the call-out. You can pretend you just want an apology; you can pretend you're just a “concerned citizen” who wants the person to improve. You can pretend you're simply offering up criticism, when what you're really doing is attacking a person's career and reputation out of spite, envy, revenge.

No Forgiveness

Cancelers will often dismiss an apology as insincere, no matter how convincingly written or delivered. And of course, an insincere apology is further proof of what a Machiavellian psychopath you really are.

Now sometimes, a good apology will calm things down for a while. But the next time there's a scandal, the original accusation will be raised again as if you never apologized.

The Transitive Property of Cancellation

Cancellation is infectious. If you associate with a cancelled person, the cancellation rubs off. It's like gonorrhoea, except doxycycline won't save you this time sweetie.» (via Natalie Wynn's Canceling video transcript)

Natalie Wynn describes and formalizes the phenomenon of Cancel Culture in those steps:

I only listen to the presumed victim,

I abstract the context to a vague idea,

I equate the action to the actor’s very essence (as if such thing even existed),

I say I’m acting in favour of morals or truth,

I accuse every person the presumed abuser ever came in contact with to be an abuser as well,

and I either reject every form of apology at the moment, or bring up the issue as if no apology was ever made at their first misstep.

Now, in this post I’m not trying to perpetrate any concept of charity, not only because it’s an attitude that takes a lot of work to inherit, but also because the negative aspects that might bring one to be a neo-effort writer or a Cancel Culture perpetrator are part of the very human nature (or, very stupidly, they wouldn’t be humans.)

The self-evidence rises here: those negative parts of human nature can be channelled everywhere, and literature or any other form of art is the healthiest way to do so: you’re not going to get rid of your anger, or your sadness — the best thing you can do is learn to control it and suppress it, but how is it going to work in the long run? It’s going to act past your good judgement, or even cloud your good judgement, clouding it into thinking you’re defending some pseudo-moralism or pseudo-intellectualism, when what you’ll be doing is just venting on someone else.

This is one way to see it: when one forgets what proper thinking is and falls into those quick and gut-feeling “thoughts”. Or one could even take advantage of this Cancel Culture, of this ground of poor thinking to instrumentalize this lack of critical judgement to attack someone else.

On instrumentalization and its dangers, Rick DuFer says:

«Political correctness works when its aim is to protect the weak from abusers, but when it favours every little susceptible sensitivity it turns dangerous.» (via Rick DuFer’s podcast DailyCogito)

Rick DuFer talks about a shared responsibility that happens during offence: shared between the offender and the offended. The problem with offence, as opposed to harm, is that it isn’t quantifiable, so the offender is guilty in regard to their intentions, and the offended is guilty in regard to the instrumentalization they can enact with the situation.

And again we find “instrumentalization”: if one destroys my property, I can quantify the damage, but if one insults me, how can I quantify how offended I truly am? This is when I can twist one person’s words and turn them into an offender, this is when sensitivity becomes a mask and no longer a virtue (or, for the toxic masculinity’s thought, a vice.)

Now, to wrap things up:

These people take the (s)word of this school of thought (which some other dichotomists may, generalizing it, call it “Strong Thought” or “Unique Thought”), perhaps without even knowing there’s an alternative, while there are multiple, actually: as many as the human beings right now populating Earth.

They may do it out of a dualistic and very childish view of society — divided into good and bad people. And if that’s your view of life, you’re not gonna want to be associated with who others deem as bad, following a gut feeling and nothing more. (And I say “gut feeling” to avoid saying “very poor thinking”, because that’s what absolutization, essentialism, and the rest is.)

Your thoughts aren’t really yours, and you become a vessel for something that belongs to someone else, someone who crafted those thoughts in a very different context, or with instrumentalization in mind. You don’t want to risk criticizing those thoughts because you don’t want to be isolated, or because you’re a sane person who deems it important to act rightfully (even if you’re letting others tell you what “right” is.)

And for how problematic moral relativism is, it surely is better than any form of absolutization: better than rejecting your status as “sapiens” and stopping thinking altogether, passively accepting what others taught you to be right and wrong, maybe even out of fear, or a stupid rush for glory and sympathy.

So I wouldn’t call this moral relativism, strictly, but rather moral subjectivism, or context-centred morality. A morality in which people still have a brain to separate a piece of work from an author’s ideology (against essentialism) and to still take into account the context in which an action was performed (against abstraction). A morality in which “good” and “wrong” aren’t seen in black and whites, but rather into lighter and darker greys; a morality which systematic use can slowly dress into the habit of charity towards one another, into kind teaching rather than cruel instrumentalization.

And is it really utopistic, is it really unfeasible, if we’re not falsely annihilating the suffering and the negative parts of the Human Experience?

This whole discourse could be turned into a political marketplace of rights and lefts, of conservatives and progressivists — but my aim here is much smaller (or bigger, if one is a humanist): to make the reader question their critical thinking, and just that.

(We love some self-doubt.)

I believe moral acts aren’t supposed to be a badge to share on one’s vest — to renew your status as “approachable person” (as if saying “don’t worry, you can talk to me, you’re not going to be deemed as bad for it”) or to be praised for. Moral acts are the only acts that raise humans from other species, the acts where the “sapiens” shows its evolution, the acts where our negative aspects aren’t hidden but channelled into arts, without the fear that someone might call us bad for it. (Immoral, even, whilst acting in the most moral way possible, exorcising those negative parts of us in the least harmful way possible.)

So, at the end of this unnecessary rant, my question is: is it better to be a minion in a culture where you have to watch your mouth, as if it wasn’t yours, or to be a person who’s engaged in researching how right and wrong truly manifest?

#the first and last sources are in italian #i did my best translating them #rant #philosophy #literature #cancel culture #cancelled #politically correct #controversial #opinion #thoughts #very open to discuss civilly

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curlewsteph · 4 years

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COVID THERAPY VIEWING

It’s been a year indeed and a struggle, but when I’ve needed an escape I’ve found solace in some brilliant tv series this year that I want to take a moment to remember. Immersing myself in characters, online discussion, podcasts and more, has kept me going and allowed me to block out everything that 2020 has been when I’ve needed to. This is my first and possibly only Tumblr post but here, the place where I’ve found so much great conversation, fan fic, gif sets and more to add to my enjoyment of my favourite things to watch, seems the best place to leave my own thoughts. So here goes from the year’s beginning to its welcome ending:

TURN - Washington’s Spies

I’ve got a thing for moody Jamie Bell (The Eagle 😍) and discovered TURN last New Year looking for other historical dramas he’d appeared in. These characters completely captured me and drew me into a historical period I’d done my best to avoid since flunking it during A Level history. Abe made quite the most useless spy but his passion and compassion sold him to me. The Culper Ring story is fascinating and the show brought to life the real lives and conflicts of those involved. Intriguing portrayals of morally corrupt characters (Simcoe, Andre etc) who surprise you at every turn kept me gripped and props to some extremely fine acting and characterisation. The found family dynamic of the Culper Ring was a real joy and Brewster will forever be one of my most favourite characters. I wanted more personal development and not really being able to ship Abe with anyone especially was a let down but it was a fine series that really kept me company.

PEAKY BLINDERS

I’ve no idea why it took me so incredibly long to watch this series but having eventually succumbed I was hooked from the very first episode. Brooding, oppressive, threatening yet full of charm and humour with characters that jump out of the screen and take your heart without asking, made it addictive viewing for me this year. The next series is light years away but I’m waiting for you Tommy.

THE 100

Thank all the stars that we had good weather during lockdown because the final series of this post-apocalyptic drama almost ruined my summer. I’ve followed every twist and turn over the past six years, had my Bellarke heart broken time over time, shared the pain and angst of an array of brilliant characters and watched through my fingers when the creators treated legions of fans of all factions, worse than mortal enemies. But the end was coming and I stuck with it - despite my misgivings since the overturning of the Writers Room - buoyed by some hopeful S6 content, but I should have listened harder to my guts. Despite some flickers of promise in S6, it was beyond clear to me that the new writing team simply didn’t have the same connection to the characters and history of the show. Instead of wanting to resolve arcs and reunite characters we’d become inexorably entwined with, the lure of the new and an opportunity to reinvent and take a detour sparkled more brightly to them - something I will never ever be able to fathom. Fans forgotten, long running storylines dropped and characters - including our leads - essentially abandoned and made for a horror show of a final act. S7 broke my heart and I should have seen it coming. When I’ll feel ready to rewatch The 100 again I don’t know, but I’ll end my run when the show should have at the S5 finale and save the CPR scene for an occasional treat. Farewell and May We Meet Again.

THE MUSKETEERS

Salvation comes in leather and 18thC lace. I ADORED this so much! Again I was incredibly late to the party because it seemed such a frivolous show but a Youtube fan vid drew me in and I’m so thankful for it. The plots are mostly light but tackle some important issues, the tension is chest heavingly dramatic and everyone looks astonishing and oh my was this the antidote to an anti-climactic apocalyptic obsession that I needed. There’s humour, kindness, compassion, daring do and a huge dollop of care and an emphasis on the value of friendship too. Clever dialogue, confident female characters, wry humour and some seriously good acting healed my heart. And yes the outfits helped. I loved it all and was transfixed by Tom Burke’s Athos.

STRIKE

...which led me to Strike. I don’t do whodunnits and crime fiction as a rule is just not my thing, usually because the core cast is always too small and I miss the found-family dynamic and they often feel claustrophobic, plus the predictable focus on difficult but supposedly fascinating men in the lead can be dull. In some regards, Strike is no different but Tom Burke’s performance and more significantly Holiday Grainger’s skill in playing Robin and how she transforms the usual “gritty detective with attractive sidekick” dynamic on its head, is really superb. I’ve read the books now too - my first JKRs. Honestly, parts are overwritten and a little indulgent but elements are breathtaking and as she’s so involved in the series too it’s a tie up I became incredibly invested in and the actors on screen are the characters on the page for me too. One does not lose out to the other, which is often the case with dramatisations. I can’t wait for the next instalment.

THE LAST KINGDOM

#TeamUhtred #TeamUhtred #TeamUhtred that’s it, that’s all there is to say, although it’s not obviously. TLK has been a slow burn for me and I began it several times when it was first aired by the BBC. The early series felt small, focussed on a pretty hateful hero who I failed to connect with, but I loved Aethelflaed and her story with Erik and Uhtred’s growing maturity was intriguing too. And then Netflix came in and the show exploded! Better scripts, more than the same 3 locations, impressive costumes and set-piece battles with characters that grew and grew. I rewatched S3 in preparation for S4’s release which I binged in style in lockdown 1 and cried when it ended. Utterly brilliant and a cast of characters that came closest to replicating the joy of my first fandom experience with the outlaws of Robin of Sherwood. Uthred has become a leader, has had to reckon with his responsibilities and shows a tenderness as he’s aged that the young callous warrior lacked. But if it weren’t for his bunch of faithful arselings I wouldn’t be watching at all. Without Finan there is no TLK for me. He’s my favourite character to have emerged in years. It’s the humour, the humanity of him that makes me cheer for him every time - as well as the arms 😍 Long live TLK. Or a final season at least.

VIKINGS (*spoilers for S6b)

2020 ended another long standing favourite series that I’ve followed for years. Unlike The 100 I’m not as deeply invested in this saga but Vikings has kept me company for so long now that the show feels part of me. It’s certainly lost it’s way over time but my favourite characters still shone brightly and those we lost were sent off triumphantly. I’ll forever miss Ragnar and the show lost a lot of its appeal with his passing, but the homage paid to such a talisman of a character was always done well. Later series did feel repetitive and the drama between the Ragnarsson brothers diluted. But Ubbe - my love - stayed true and the ending for him and Hvitserk (I always felt so heart sick for him) both felt fitting. And Bjorn’s final climax was awe inspiring (I do wish the tomb had stayed closed though). I’d have absolutely loved more time to have been spent on Ubbe’s future adventures instead of the endless hours in barren wastelands and storm lashed ships, but what we got was good. As for Ivar... an utterly unforgettable character (performed superbly) who became human again was a journey to behold. I’m glad it went that way but honestly I lost touch with him with all the time spent on the Rus storyline that repeatedly ate its own tail. Getting back to Wessex brought the show full circle and I loved it for that. Farewell Vikings. I hope Ubbe and Torvi are still doing ok in their new Valhalla.

#bbc strike #the 100 #vikings #turn: washington's spies #last kingdom #peaky blinders #the musketeers

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eternalthenas · 5 years

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what bothers me the most about tros and what i’m most unable to accept is how jj managed to destroy and disrespect EVERY single character. even the ones who technically had “happy endings”🤡

ben - i feel like this one doesn’t even need to be said, but i’ll say it anyways. after years of emotional abuse from palpatine, it’s disheartening to see that jj gave no explanation as to why palpatine wanted ben (personal vendetta against the skywalkers i guess??) when it semed like he only needed rey AND that ben never really triumphed over palpatine in any way. it hurts to know that leia straight up had a vision about her son’s death but that she still seemingly gave up on him despite knowing that he was struggling and that she sent him off to train to be jedi with a luke, when apparently she could’ve done that herself. it’s disheartening that luke who believed even vader could be turned back to the light also gave up on his nephew, when he was just a boy no less. it’s disheartening that although he was the last skywalker (a fact only palpatine acknowledged!), none of his family nor his namesake reached out to help him. instead of telling the last skywalker to rise, they ignored him (as they had apparently done his whole life) in favor of a palpatine. ok. even though as the last skywalker, he really should’ve been the one to have the final kill against palpatine since it was HIS family that palpatine destroyed, he doesn’t. he’s motionless in a pit for the whole final battle. ok. that will never not leave a bad taste in my mouth. his whole family (except for han apparently i love him) gave up on him and clearly so did the writers. as a fan of the skywalkers and their story, this isn’t the ending i wanted for them. especially when luke and leia and han had given their lives to see him turn to the light. and for what? so he could be used as a plot device to conveniently bring rey back to life and then promptly die (even though they’re a force dryad and, according to jj’s own fucking canon, supposedly one) without any fanfare, emotional reaction whatsoever, or later mention? wtf? it’s disrespectful not only to ben solo, who is easily the best character in the sequel trilogy and one of the best characters in ALL of star wars, but it’s disrespectful to the entire skywalker line!! (and to adam driver, who deserved so much better than this shit. go get that oscar)

rey - by making her a palpatine, jj completely disregarded her arc. whatever your opinions about rey nobody, once they went with it, they never should’ve retconned it and turned her into a legacy character in the final film. it felt cheap. in my theater, there was no cheering about this reveal. because jj had never properly set it up and he didn’t even bother to reveal it an impactful way. but what’s most annoying about rey suddenly being a legacy character is that it completely disregards the fact that she was powerful on her OWN, without any famous blood making her that way. furthermore, by turning her into the chosen one and giving her the entire skywalker legacy (which felt like a slap in the face to the skywalkers imo), she did turn into a mary sue, one of the biggest complaints about her since day 1. she was overpowered, morally perfect, and never faced any failure. i struggled to root for her as the “hero” because i felt everything was handed to her on a silver platter. so not only did jj turn her into a mary sue and take her power away from her by turning her into a legacy, but he also destroyed the fact that her whole arc had been “seeking belonging” and a family. rather than having her final scenes be with her new found family, she ends the movie with her canon soulmate dead and no one but a droid by her side on a desert planet of all places. to add further insult to injury, she also disregards her family name even though they supposedly loved her and sacrificed themselves for her (despite the fact that they sold her but whatever) in favor of a last name of a guy she had barely known. she had more emotional connection to han or leia, but she didn’t take their last name. she took luke’s, the guy who had refused to teach her and who she had come to view in a more negative light towards the end of tlj. in this house i will not EVER be calling her rey sky- i can’t even say it🤢

finn - in all honestly, they screwed finn’s character arc in episode 1 when jj turned him into a lovesick sidekick who served as comedic relief. as a deserted stormtrooper, he could’ve had the most interesting storylines. and he should have. but apparently the writers forgot about him. although they mention his past BRIEFLY, it’s paid no real weight or attention. instead, he spends the whole movie once again trying to (possibly) confess his feeling for rey. and for what? probably just to bait finnrey fans and prove the character’s heterosexuality bc it goes absolutely nowhere. although we find out he’s force sensitive, that too is glossed over and has no lasting effect. he’s also made co general, which okay cool, but then he does nothing?? so while finn could have and should have been a main character with an interesting storyline, they turn him into your average run of the mill action hero with an occasional quip. john boyega, sweetie, i’m so sorry (but i guess that’s kind of what he wanted since he hated tlj, the only movie where he actually had a main role with any character growth?? idk)

poe - it’s once again evident that they originally intended to kill off poe bc he has no arc whatsoever. he gets a little backstory as a drug smuggler now ig, which really came out of left field considering the already established canon with his past as a pilot. he’s more of the same in this movie, except more unlikable than usual (imo). he’s still stubborn, occasionally funny, but mostly he just bickers with rey, which isn’t funny, at all necessary, and doesn’t add anything to the “trio’s” dynamic. he’s at his best when he’s with finn but then, of course, jj has to remind us of how straight he is every single scene so. another character like finn who could have been great, but with the lazy writing, he has no arc, no backstory, no character growth, so he’s just mediocrity personified and just kind of there.

zorii & jannah - both could’ve been awesome. both are just there for a brief introduction and to help the heroes with maybe one thing and that’s it. both deserved better.

the skywalkers - yeah jj really said a big fuck you to luke, leia, and anakin most of all. the WORST part of tros is the fact that it basically makes the previous six episodes useless. anakin’s redemption arc? what does it matter now? he didn’t successfully bring balance to the force. he didn’t successfully kill palpatine. and now his entire bloodline is dead. ok cool😎 thank you jj!!!! what a hopeful end to the skywalker saga!!!! i love seeing that anakin failed and wasn’t REALLY the chosen one. i love that luke and leia gave their legacy to a descendant of the guy who tried to tear apart and terrorized their family. that’s really nice. i love that anakin NEVER reached out to help his grandson who struggled with the dark just like he did. but that he came in just in time to tell palp’s granddaughter to rise😍 really hopeful, lovely ending. thanks again jj! thanks for making leia seem like a bad mother who sees visions about her son but just throws in the towel and doesn’t really try to help him?? wtf??? not my princess leia. also tros luke? truly the worst luke. i really have no other words, i’m just disappointed. jj let me down in every single way possible and ones i didn’t even realize he could.

palpatine - jj also managed to ruin the best star wars villain, a feat i didn’t even think possible. palpatine had always seemed scary to me because of his inhuman qualities. but in this one, he’s back with no explanation whatsoever. he just is. he somehow managed to survive (ok🙄) and furthermore he had a kid. what in the fuck? jj clearly read harry potter and the cursed child, but he clearly also forgot to read the reviews. NOBODY LIKES IT WHEN THE PREVIOUSLY UNTOUCHABLE/SCARY VILLAIN HAS A KID OUT OF NOWHERE. NOBODY. i seriously spent the entire movie wondering who the heck would sleep with him? that’s it. he didn’t seem menacing or at all like a threat. this movie genuinely had no stakes whatsoever (that’s why ben’s death feels so out of left field bc literally for what?! but i digress) also the final “fight” where rey kills him??? very lame. he supposedly survived all those years to be taken out like that?? no thank you, i’d like a refund.

in conclusion, thank you to jj for ruining my favorite franchise by killing off every last one of my favorite characters, destroying the skywalker legacy (& killing them off), ruining seriously every character, and leaving me with despair!!! while i’ll continue to watch star wars without including episode 9, it sucks that some of my joy is zapped from my favorite series. because this is how future generations will know star wars. with this shitty ending. and any future movies will have this canon. and that really fricking sucks. thanks, i hate it.

anyways feel free to message if you’re also in the depths of despair about how this all ended!! bc the more i think about it, the sadder/angrier i get.

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merigreenleaf · 4 years

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Unexpected Inspiration Character Backstory: The Twins’ Past

The crisp snow crunched under Etri's feet in a sickening way reminiscent of the rough gravel floor of the Sanctuary's acolyte quarter. His skin burned every time he sunk into a knee-high drift, the pain a constant reminder of the flames that waited for him should they be caught. His fingers were numb under thin gloves meant for concealment, not warmth, and his robe was nigh-useless outside the cavern city. It had been cold underground-- every day of his life had been spent shivering-- but nothing had prepared him for this overwhelming numbness spreading through his body. If he couldn't find shelter soon, it wouldn't matter that they had escaped. They would die anyway.

-Excerpt from “Stuck With You”

As their lingering accents and pale features can attest, Sol and Etri weren't originally from Concordia. They come from Montglace, a place far to the north where the population lives in a single city deep below the mountainous snow and ice. At one time, long ago, people lived on the surface, but this was so long ago that the rest of the world mostly assumes the population of Montglace died out, if they're reminded of its existence at all. Possibly this would have been for the best, considering what Montglace has become. The twins do not have a happy backstory.

Montglacian culture is dominated by a dual religious order of light and shadow; the twins were born into and raised by the Sanctuary of Shadow. Within the carved stone walls of the temples, there is no concept of family and children never know who their parents or possible siblings are. Being identical twins granted Etri and Sol some insight, although it took years for them to work this out. While Etri was delivering a message for one of the high ranking priestesses, he came across a mirror for the first time in his life. It was then that it made sense why people had always called him by the wrong name-- he looked identical to one of the other boys. Since their language has no word for brother or twin, the closest they could come up with was "person who looks like me," but this was enough for them to realize the other was important.

[More]

Etri's shadow magic manifested soon after this and he was allowed a small room of his own. This offered a little more security from the dangers of the temple, but it meant that it was harder to sneak around to spend time with Sol. In working out a way to do this safely, Etri discovered that his magic could turn his body into a shadow, much like the elementals the priest/esses controlled. This brought its own kind of danger in keeping it secret, but Etri has always been careful. He made sure that they were never caught together and when Sol began showing signs of light magic, Etri made sure no one else found out. If this was discovered, Sol would have been sent to the Sanctuary of Light and it would have been unlikely the two would see each other again. Sol played dumb, which was easy when the priest/esses never guessed he could have light magic and instead only tested his control over shadow elementals. To this day, shadows still terrify Sol.

Only one other person knew the truth about Sol having magic and he took it to the grave... but I'm getting ahead of myself. Sol fell in love with another boy in the temple and this needed just as much care to avoid detection since any kind of relationship was forbidden. Knowing how important this boy was to Sol, Etri took a risk and befriended him. Etri tried his hardest to keep both of them out of trouble, but this wasn't an easy task. Sol had a tendency to become easily distracted and not notice a threat until too late. Pierre constantly talked back to his superiors and made himself a target all too often, usually as he tried to divert someone's attention long enough for Sol to get away. Pierre always stood his ground, refusing to be quiet and accept life as it was in the temple. He hated the Sanctuary and while he and Etri were able to give Sol happiness as best they could, both hated seeing him scared so much of the time. There had to be a way out, even if leaving was forbidden. So the three made plans for Sol and Pierre to sneak out of the city and out of the mountain. Etri disliked the idea of losing the people he cared about, but he knew they would have a better chance of escaping if he stayed behind to distract or try to stop anyone who followed them. With his ability to shift into a shadow and avoid being seen, he had a level of protection the other two did not.

Their plan almost worked. At the last moment, their escape was discovered, and both were locked up. Etri tried so hard to break them out, but couldn't succeed before Sol and Pierre were dragged out to the surface of the mountain with Etri following close behind in shadow form. With no witnesses around, the three knew the type of punishment the priest/esses had in mind. What was essentially an elemental firefight went down. Etri, doing the best he could with magic that had never been fully trained, blocked the elementals long enough to give Pierre time to summon shadows of his own to use against the light elementals. Sol, absolutely terrified of everything happening, lost control over his magic. He flared hot and bright like a small sun, which took out a portion of the elementals before he fainted. This was a losing battle and the other two knew it. Pierre urged Etri to get away with Sol, then used every ounce of his strength to buy them time. Etri, in turn, threw all he could into wrapping his magic around the other two to try to shadow them to safety, but he wasn't strong enough. He was able to grab his twin-- just barely-- and pull him away before Pierre drained his own magic dry.

The twins got away and made their way south into Galanvoth and eventually into Concordia. It wasn't easy and they struggled at first, both in terms of controlling their magic and with life in general. As Sol grew more confident with his magic, he decided to change his name as a way of claiming his power for himself and also to get rid of the birth name that reminded him too much of his past. He earned what income he could through his skill in fixing and inventing things while Etri stole what else they needed to survive. This, though, is a story for another day. Seven years have passed since they fled Montlgace and both have grown up and found happiness. They now have safety, security, and friends in their carnival troupe. When they meet Blythe and later Adair and Dray, they gain a family they never had in anyone but each other. Forever at the back of both of their minds, though, is guilt and regret that they weren't able to save Pierre, too.

————————–

This is the next (and possibly last, although I might do secondary characters later) in the series of backstory moodboards I’m doing about the dorks. I have one for Blythe here, one for Addy here, two for Dray here and here, and one for Rosalie & Camille here.

This was made for @homesteadchronicles theme of “mountains” although I started it weeks ago for a theme that might have been “desperation”-- it took me that long to iron out their backstory because I realized I’d broken it as I’ve been outlining the trilogy. Also I swear I’m still writing comedic/lighthearted fantasy despite how depressing this post is. The twins most definitely had the hardest childhood, but it improved drastically after this low point as teenagers, I promise!

(For the moodboard, most pictures are pretty straightforward, but I’ll explain a few. The pictures represent them in this point of their past-- Etri is naturally blond, believe it or not lol. I liked the heart shape of the guy breathing fire because that’s so very Sol. The necklace represents the one Sol made for Pierre; he put some of his magic into it so it served to protect Pierre a little while they were living in the temple. While Pierre was telling Etri to leave, he passed the necklace back because it was the only thing he could give Sol to remember him by. The crescent moon tattoo on Etri’s side represents the branding he was given when his magic manifested; everyone in the Sanctuaries is branded when they develop magic. In case you can’t see the images, like if tumblr isn’t letting you click them bigger, Sol’s quote thing says “Play Dumb! Not That Dumb!” and Etri’s says “Always have an escape plan.”)

Tagging my series tag list. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list and please definitely tag me in writing things you share, too!

@homesteadchronicles @ageekyreader @lynnafred @the-gay-hufflepuff @oceanwriter @desperatlytryingtowriteabook @muffindragon227 @theguildedtypewriter @toboldlywrite @wchwriter @dreameronthewind @shadow-maker @pen-for-sword @loopyhoopywrites @emptymanuscript @madmoonink @perringwrites @megan-cutler @elliot-orion @thatwriternamedvolk @indecentpause @writer-on-time @ravenpuffwriter @siarven @musicismymoirail @lady-redshield-writes @bluemartlet @reeseweston @worldbuildingwren @hiddswritingrefs @cay--scribbles @focusdumbass @enasroterfaden @missrobinswritings @joshuaorrizonte @zofiehelen @kainablue @kalis-scribbles @inspirited-goddess

#death warning #which is the first and probably only time you'll ever see this on a post of mine #writing #writeblr #moodboard #character moodboard #character backstory #character aesthetics #fantasy series #unexpected inspiration series #Unexpected Inspiration aesthetic #UI POV: Etri #UI POV: Sol #this is definitely the most depressing thing I've ever written #someday I'll go back and write a novella about Dray's past #I most definitely will never write one about the twins lol

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sombreboy · 4 years

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Love Maze »23 (FINAL)

Previous Series Masterlist ▎ 18+ ▎ pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ▎ genre: School AU, crack humor, smut, angst, ETL, slow burn, fluff. ▎ word count: 7.3k ▎ ch.warnings: profanity, mentions of drinking, smoking, dom!tae, sub!koo, smut, fingering, anal (Use lube this is fiction dw their asses are fine), dirty talk.

Co-writer: @velvetwicebang ♡♡♡

Days gradually turned into weeks, and weeks morphed into months. Naturally, each day spent was one day less until Taehyung could go back to Jungkook— for good. He’d miss the friendships he’s made over the course of the long months, but no other group of people compared to his annoying ass friends back home. Of course, Tae exchanged numbers with a few of them, hoping they’d continue to keep in touch even if most of the English phrases he knew were, ‘I don’t understand’, ‘Where is the bathroom?’, ‘I need burger’, and ‘My boyfriend’.

Overall, the elder didn’t regret his studies abroad. It sucked ass to be away from Kook for so long, but they always managed to make it work. They FaceTimed a lot and texted (turns out Jungkook was getting better at answering). His boyfriend seemed.. happier, and Taehyung loved to see it. That’s all he wanted for the younger, happiness. His own contentment was there, but it wasn’t as noticeable. Tae enjoyed the career he set out to study, but it didn’t make him happy. It was more so he tolerated it.

But, who really enjoyed their job in the first place? It was nearly unheard of.

Interrupting his racing thoughts, the voice of the speaker let everyone know they were going to be landing soon, and Taehyung swore he felt a bundle of jitters travel through his veins.

He was finally back home.

On Jungkook's end, life was completely turned upside down in a sense. He'd spent weeks looking for jobs, until he had enough, thinking 'fuck it', he'd just wait for Taehyung. He gave up, and had accepted the fact that he was useless until he'd gone back to finish his high school diploma. He'd managed to keep himself off of drinking--no, actually, that'd be a lie. He drank, just not as often as previously. He couldn't really afford to buy more, but he surely wouldn't waste the full fridge he had wasted money on. But one of those days after Jungkook thought luck was nowhere to be found, it smacked him in the face. Quite literally-- he was walking down the street close to his apartment complex, and as he turned the corner, a flyer in the wind hit him straight in the face. He had picked it up to throw it away, but noted that it was for the tattoo shop looking for new apprentice hires.

A tattoo shop? At this point, Jungkook couldn't afford to be picky.

So he'd gone inside, and immediately hit it off with the owner; Yun. The man was probably in his late 20s, covered in different artwork. It intrigued the younger so much, and he was excited to hear he'd gotten the job.

Months passed, and he'd found that he was really, really passionate about body art. At first, he'd watched Yun do his thing, and he was mesmerized. With time he'd been allowed to practice, and turns out; he was really talented with drawing, even tattooing. As his hyung had said himself; 'a natural talent'.. Jungkook had gotten so into this lifestyle of his that he'd gotten several tattoos of his own, some self made (like the little letters on his hand representing his hyungs and his boyfriend) to some made by the owner himself, a large flower tattoo along with other beautiful works covering his skin. However, he'd spent most of his time with his new group of friends, and along with it came their habits. Jungkook had picked up smoking, as a form of socializing and it quickly turned into a habit he couldn't imagine himself without at this point. And drinking, after work, spending less time calling his boyfriend, but more time texting.

But he was happier, and that he made sure to let Taehyung know every single time as they counted down the days.

And finally, that day came, and the doe eyed, muscular; and now tattooed boy was over the moon that Taehyung was coming back home to him. Just like last time, he'd cleaned up his apartment, even stocked up some food and banana milk now that he was able to afford it, and picked up a strawberry milkshake ready in his hand for Tae's arrival. He knew since way back that it's the elder's favourite. Jungkook stood by the gate, anxiously rocking back and forth on his feet. He'd dressed himself in ripped black jeans and a long sleeved turtleneck, a new style of his as of late, with his now trimmed, but still long curls hanging freely around the frame of his face. It had gotten a tad bit too long for him to do his work properly, so a light cut was necessary. As the gate opened and people flooded out, Jungkook tiptoed on his feet to try to catch a glimpse of his person, excited to finally close the distance they've had to endure for way too long.

Moving with the flow of the pack, Taehyung tried to keep himself from pushing others out of the way, too eager to spot his boyfriend in the hustling crowd. Who would’ve thought that months could feel like years? Those years felt like an eternity.. But, they were here. They only had a game of hide and seek left to play; the second Tae saw Jungkook, he’d run into his strong arms. That’s a promise.

“Babe, where are you..?” The elder mumbled to himself, pushing through the crowd until.. “Damn.”

There stood his boyfriend— wait, was that really Jungkook? The latter’s hair wasn’t as long and he seemed to build up more muscle; if that was even possible. He looked like an absolute model, Kook looked unreal.. After a second of merely gazing, Taehyung picked up his jaw from the floor, instead smiling as Jungkook’s new appearance slowly began to sink in. “Baby!” He excitedly ran into his man’s arms, letting go of his baggage to cup the younger’s handsome face, pressing smooches on nearly every inch of his skin. “I missed you so much.” Now that Tae was closer to him, he saw the new additions to Jungkook’s ears. His boyfriend looked hot.. “You look hot, I would suck your dick right now if I could.” Of course, Taehyung had no shame in saying what he thought. The moment he pulled away was when Tae finally took notice of the milkshake in Kook’s hand— “Woah. Shit you got tattoos?”

The poor man was practically salivating..

“Fuck, Kook those are pretty.” He thanked Jungkook for the strawberry milkshake before further inspecting the younger’s tattoos, in awe of the sight. Taehyung couldn’t help but imagine that hand doing dirty things to him.. his tatted finger sinking in— he shook himself out of it. “Wow.. you look.. amazing.” He ran his hand through his boyfriend’s new length of hair, loving how soft it felt in between his fingers. “Have you gotten a bit taller than me too?” The boy swore he’d fallen even more in love, Jungkook was here.. different, yet still the same Jungkook he’s always known.

Jungkook's bunny-like grin grew with every surprised expression on his boyfriend's face, he was practically beaming under the constant praise. ''This one's for you,'' He showed off the letters on his hand, along with the matching ones intertwining the flow of names, ''And these are for our hyungs.'' he said fondly before grabbing Tae's bag with one hand, using the other to smooth his tattooed fingers on Tae's cheek. ''I might be taller, but it might also be these shoes.'' He chuckled, showing off the thick soled black combat boots he was rocking. His style had gotten more dark, that's for sure. some would compare it to a 'goth e-boy'. ''I missed you so much.'' He added, leaning in to place a proper kiss on Taehyung's lips before his hand travelled to wrap around Tae's waist to usher him towards the parking lot, eager to get out of the airport-- hoping it was the last time he'd ever be in one.

His boyfriend’s drastic change of style wasn’t overlooked by Taehyung; the elder couldn’t help but stare at every inch of him. Even when Jungkook was driving, Tae would find himself gawking at the latter instead of the flashing scenery in front of him. He just couldn’t believe how good Jungkook looked.. The last time they FaceTimed, the new earrings were nowhere to be found, even less the tattoos. What else did Kook have up his sleeve?

“I’m so happy to be back, you have no idea.” Taehyung sighed in pure content, out stretching his arms over his head before plopping down on the infamous couch. Just like last time, their apartment looked cleaner than when he left it. Everything appeared more.. improved— like everything finally seemed to be falling into its place. Jungkook was happy, Taehyung was sure to have a job he didn’t quite enjoy, but it was better than nothing. What mattered was that he was back, and that was enough for him.

"I think I might have an idea, I'm just as happy to have you back." Jungkook put Tae's bag in the bedroom before heading back into the livingroom to watch the scenery before him. Well, to him it was. Seeing Taehyung comfortably on their couch holding many memories made the younger's heart swell.'

"You hungry?" Kook scrunched his nose, shaking his head as if it was a dumb question. His boyfriend was always hungry. "I actually got some stuff to make you dinner this time." Kook beamed proudly before he turned to head back to the bedroom. "Just let me change first. Maybe you should too, those clothes reek of the airport." Kook chuckled as he beckoned for the elder to follow before heading into his room by himself meanwhile, pulling his sweater over his head and throwing it to the side before rummaging his drawers for a tshirt and a pair of sweats.

“You’re right,” Taehyung groaned, finishing the last of his strawberry milkshake before setting it down on the coffee table, practically forcing himself from up the couch to follow behind Jungkook. After long hours of sitting in a cramped airplane, Tae could use a bit of comfortability and changing out of his clothes was the first step. The elder inattentively stepped into their bedroom, about to slip off his shirt when he stopped midway.

If there was one thing he didn’t already see about Jungkook, it was the rest of his boyfriend’s tattoos.

“No fuckin’ way..” Taehyung’s jaw hit the floor, “Jungkook, fuck.. what?” The younger’s never told him he’d planned on getting tatted; the ink on his hand was already startling enough. But this? “I mean.. I’m a little taken aback but.. damn, you look hot.” Yeah, this Taehyung liked.

The latter stepped closer to him, lightly tracing the outline of one of Jungkook’s tattoos with the pad of his finger, as if he was making sure that it wouldn’t rub off his boyfriend’s skin. “I.. they’re beautiful.” He leaned in to press a mellow kiss onto one by Kook’s collarbone, gently stroking his curious hand over the rest of the younger’s muscular arm. Jungkook was breathtaking. “You’re beautiful.” Tae smiled, smoothing his fingers through the younger’s hair. “Any meaning behind any of them? I’d love to know..”

"Some are more meaningful than others," Jungkook's voice was slightly breathy from the kiss on his skin, it had been so long that he was surprisingly sensitive to the elders touch. Actually, it wasn't that surprising, he'd always been weak underneath his fingertips and lips. Heat blossomed on his skin wherever Tae's touch lingered, and his body reacted to it through a light shudder. "This one I told you about already," he glanced at his hand, then resumed to show off the large flower on his lower arm, "this is my birth flower. It means, umm... love me." He chuckled, "it's a bit cheesy, but I love it a lot." Kook traced his fingers to his upper arms, "these were just because I thought they were pretty." And finally, he lifted his arm to display the thorns adorning his ribs in a flow like pattern, beautifully following every curve of muscle on his skin, "This is..." he scrunched his nose with a small smile, "my pain. But its beautiful still; because it withers as it gets closer to my heart... which is you, keeping the pain away." Kook shrugged, cringing a bit until he grits his teeth in his smile, "I did the one on my hand myself actually." He switched the attention back to it, "I'm quite good."

Jungkook rambled on, it was obvious that he had a passion for tattoos, his eyes sparkling with every word. "You like them?" Kook asked, even if he knew the answer by the way Tae kept touching and staring at his body; not to mention he literally just told the younger.

Taehyung listened closely to each and every one. He might not have any visible tattoos, but his boyfriend’s personal stories were forever inked in his brain, especially the last one. “The thorns are captivatingly beautiful, and so is the meaning behind it.” He playfully wrinkled his nose, “Don’t come for my spot as the cheesy one in this relationship.” Led by a loving gaze, Taehyung pressed his moistened lips onto Jungkook’s left pec; where his boyfriend’s beating heart hid. “I love them, I really like the one you made yourself,” Tae reached for the younger’s hand, smiling fondly from the way the lines effortlessly came together as one.

Jungkook was indeed talented, but then again, what couldn’t his boyfriend do?

“You have all the letters of our names down.. god I love you.” Suddenly missing the intoxicating warmth of Jungkook’s bare skin, Taehyung wrapped his arms around his defined torso, pressing him closer until he could comfortably feel Kook’s lips melting against his.

"Mmm.." Jungkooks hum vibrated in his throat as he returned the soft kiss. Their lips were practically made specifically for each other, the plump curves fitting together like a perfect puzzle. He moved his lips slowly against Tae's as his hands smoothed underneath the hem of his boyfriend's shirt to feel the soft skin against his calloused fingers, moving upwards to help Taehyung to get rid of the fabrics. The kiss momentarily broke when he took it off, only to immediately press their chests together once again, leaning in for another kiss; this one laced with emotions. Jungkook had missed Tae so much, and the desperation slowly growing in his touch was the obvious proof of this.

"Remember when I fucked you in the bathroom at the airport?" Jungkook coyly reminded, hands squeezing at the elders fleshy hips.

One of Taehyung’s full brows arched upwards, “Yeah, I remember. But why are you bringing this up now..?” The elder’s teeth clamped down on his lower lip. He slowly wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s neck, burying his slender fingers underneath the younger’s soft hair, faintly tugging at a certain spot as they securely curled around a couple strands. “Are you perhaps wanting me to return the favor? Hm, baby boy?”

Seeing his boyfriend like.. this, it made Taehyung want to tame him into a moaning, crying mess. The wash of tattoos would be quite contradicting the image he had in mind, but underneath them all laid a very good boy who wanted nothing but to please. Taehyung was sure. With one last smirk, Tae leaned in to whisper into his ear; voice raspy. “Think it’s my turn to leave you limping for days.. That was an asshole move, you know.” He allowed his warm breath to linger for a few seconds, arms loosening themselves to softly smooth his palms over Jungkook’s upper arms. “Wanna make you cry.. good tears, of course. Fuck, wanna be inside your ass.” Taehyung growled, lightly nudging the tip of his nose against the younger’s ear. “Wanna fuck my cum deep into you.. wanna fuck your insides ‘till my cock is numb.” The elder practically moaned, now gripping at Jungkook’s upper arms. “Tell me, pretty boy, how does that sound?”

A few words was all it took for Taehyung to make Jungkook crumble right in front of him. Although the younger was physically at a large advantage, he turned into a puddle mentally quicker than one could say 'baby boy'. Just something in Taehyung's voice could make Kook drop to his knees within a split second if asked. "Sounds really good.." Jungkook's voice was weak, the familiar slightly higher tune of his would only be used in front of his boyfriend. He craned his neck to the side, giving no resistance to expose his strained skin for the elder to bruise or simply kiss as he wishes. "Miss your cock." Jungkook whined quietly, his hands digging into Taes hips at the mere thought of having his ass filled. It's been so long, he didn't even care that he seemed desperate for it. Because he was.

“Miss my cock?” Taehyung licked over his lips, the exposure of his boyfriend’s supple neck making him all the more impatient. “Poor baby..” The elder ridiculed, plush lips coming together into a mocking pout. Jungkook was exceptionally captivating when he whined, the pitch of the younger’s voice was a big contrast to his muscular build, and it made Taehyung feel powerful. “Don’t be shy, you can touch it..” Tae deliberately reached for his boyfriend’s tatted hand, closing the small distance between his lips and Jungkook’s neck. “It missed you too..” He stamped little kisses along the boy’s skin, fingers curled tightly around the younger’s wrist whilst the other worked on undoing his zipper.

“My baby boy..” Taehyung trailed his wet kisses up to Kook’s defined jaw, entirely leading the latter’s hand into the warmth of his boxers. His breath noticeably hitched at the contact, momentarily putting a pause to his lips sensual movements. “Ah fuck..” The elder’s darkened eyes eventually flickered open, looking up at Jungkook’s face from a low angle. “Touch it, get a feel of what’s gonna be slamming into you.”

Jungkook's breathy groan rumbled in his throat when he felt the silky smooth skin of Taehyung's cock. He wrapped his long, calloused fingers around the girth, letting his hand slowly and tortuously stroke it from the shaft to the tip. ''Fuck, I want it now Tae..'' Jungkook shamelessly announced his neediness; he felt impatient. The younger kept stroking his boyfriend's growing length, the beads of precum dribbling out of the tip smearing down with every movement of Kook's hand. Jungkook knew exactly how Taehyung liked it. Where to squeeze, where to tug, and where to simply let his fingers linger until it drove the elder mad. Kook's hand stopped by the mushroom tip, using his slick thumb to rub underneath the crease of the head of Tae's dick. ''Please,'' Jungkook lowered his head to look directly into Taehyung's eyes with his own doe ones, ''I can't wait.''

“Pretty sure you can wait, and you will.” The elder’s dominating aura emitted off of him in large amounts, overfilling the small room with more of their sexual tension. One could practically smell it at this point, its scent was too heavy to ignore. “Wanna take my sweet time with you first..” Taehyung lowly moaned into Jungkook’s ear, moderately rocking his hips into the latter’s hand, going crazy from the sly prod of Kook’s thumb. “You sure know how to please me— ah fuck yeah..” Taehyung redirected his boyfriend’s head with a sharp upwards movement, allowing his pointer finger to continue resting under Jungkook’s chin as the pad of his thumb kept his head in place. “But I also know how to please you, and if you really want it, you’re gonna have to be patient,” Tae murmured against the skin of the younger’s neck, his mouth latching on to a desired spot. Taehyung’s tongue occasionally swirled around the blossoming bruise, teeth nibbling and pulling at the exploited skin as if it was a piece of meat. The elder was starving for a taste.

He pulled away after a few seconds, seemingly proud with his temporary tattoo, the lopsided smile gradually disappearing until Tae stared into his boyfriend’s doe eyes. “Get on the bed, on your back. You’re gonna spread out your legs for me— open them up real good so I can see that pink little hole of yours. ‘M gonna finger you, but if you want more.. beg for it.”

Jungkook's audible swallow didn't go unnoticed by either of the men, a heated blush creeping up on his cheeks. A quiet 'yes' echoed in the room as he withdrew his slick hand from Taehyung's boxers to instead slip out of the rest of his clothes. Now fully naked, his muscular body trembled as he felt Tae's heavy gaze burning on his skin. Kook headed over to the bed, his heart pounding in his chest in excitement... He adored when Taehyung was in the state of dominance just as much as he loved the submissive side-- he could never pick just one. How lucky was he to be able to experience both. Jungkook laid down on his back on the soft duvet, his sculpted body flexing with every move as he reached down to place his hands behind his knees to help spread his legs properly, exposing his pink, tight entrance for Taehyung only to see. Kook's eyes were glimmering in the dimmed light of the room, dead set on his boyfriend with an immense shameless need.

Tae's throbbing cock twitched from inside his boxers, “So pink ‘n perfect for me to stretch..” He walked over to his boyfriend, intrigued eyes set on the small opening to an intimate portal of various emotions; several feelings.. The elder loved being inside of him, it’s where he felt the most warm and at ease. No matter how hard he’d be fucking into Jungkook, Tae would make sure the younger felt every ounce of his love. Because at the end of the day, that’s what it was.. love. Taehyung’s large hands rested on the back of his boyfriend’s thighs, gently pushing the latter’s legs down to his chest.

“Shit I can’t wait to fuck my cock deep into that pretty hole, bet you’re just dying for me to stretch you out, aren’t you?” The elder snickered, manhandling Jungkook’s body to pull him closer to the edge where he stood. “How cute, baby. It’s clenching tight around nothing.” Taehyung leaned down, inching his face closer to press a wet kiss onto the younger’s entrance, settling for kissing around the rim. His hands smoothed over the underside of Jungkook’s thighs, making out the clear goosebumps under his touch. “Smells so sweet too,” Suddenly, Tae spat on Kook’s sensitive hole, some of his saliva dribbling down his chin. He quickly cleaned it up with the back of his hand, then proceeded to circle the pad of his finger around the tight ring of muscle. “So eager to get fingered, I see.” Taehyung smirked whilst he looked up at Jungkook’s expressions from his spot in between his boyfriend’s legs, his black fringe effortlessly falling down to his eyes.

He sank in his pointer finger, playfully wiggling it inside of Kook. “Oh? You like that?” By the way his boyfriend’s body twitched, Taehyung already got his answer. He then added in a second finger, his thumb forcefully pressing against the puckered rim. “So wet, fuck.. beg if you want this fat cock.” He began to move them inside of Jungkook, the squelching sounds making him foam at the mouth.

Jungkook's gasps quickly turned into moans, his entire being crumbling into the needy mess he can only become for Taehyung. "Ah-- fuck.. please..." he threw his head back on the pillow underneath, eyes staring right back into the piercing ones from between his legs. Jungkook squirmed in pleasure every time Tae’s long fingers sank into him, the continuous loop of his lower lip being clamped between his teeth causing the plump skin to swell. "Please baby... please, Taehyung, I need your fat cock--" His higher pitched voice cracks at the end, his cheeks flushed. But he didnt care, all he wanted was to be fucked dumb. "Please fuck me deeply, please please please..." Kook continued with a lower voice, eyes seemingly struggling to stay focused. He was so cock hungry it drove him mad, there was no shame in his body for begging. Quite the opposite, he loved the degrading feeling to it all; giving all control to the one and only person he trusts.

“Ah, why didn’t you just say so~?” A demeaning smirk etched onto his lips at the tease, continuing his fingers’ scissoring motions inside of Jungkook until Taehyung deemed it plenty. He knew best; he was the one in charge. The elder slid off his uncomfortable boxers, letting it droop down to his ankles along with his pants. His rock-hard cock boldly sprung up from its hiding spot, making itself known in both of their hazy eyes. “Gonna stretch you out so good, baby..” Taehyung spat onto the palm of his hand, evenly smothering his warm spit onto his responsive dick; his length twitching as he pumped himself a few times to get started. When ready, Tae carelessly dragged his boyfriend’s body closer to his, pressing one hand onto the back of Jungkook’s thigh whilst he stood by the edge of the bed. It was the perfect height for him to fuck into the younger, his bulging tip aligning with Kook’s clenched hole. Taehyung rubbed the head of his cock against Jungkook’s entrance, annoyingly poking at his boyfriend’s needy ass for the hell of it.

“O-oh shit..” The elder hissed once he’d finally pushed it in, only managing to get the tip inside as the remaining inches didn’t budge. Damn, his boyfriend was fuckin’ tight. He pulled out soon after, wetting the same two fingers before forcing them back inside of Jungkook, fingering him as quick as he could so it wouldn’t be such a tight fit. His cock was getting impatient. “Fuck, baby I need to fuck you more, you’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung tried again, pushing the glistening tip past the rim— slowly, until the rest gradually disappeared in between Jungkook’s fleshy walls. “Shiiit.. so warm..” Yeah, this was what home definitely felt like.

''Ah...aaah..!'' Jungkook's lower moans gradually grew louder with every inch of Taehyung that entered his warm insides, the familiar sensation washing over him. His face winced from the stretch that burned, but it quickly morphed into that of pleasure when he had all of his boyfriend inside of him. ''oh god, yes ye--..'' Series of praises and curses rolled of his lips at a constant, already feeling the scorching heat blossoming on his skin where Tae's hand were touching him, ''So big, I fucking love your cock so much.'' He pressed his head down against the pillow, licking his lips as he relished in the feeling, his hands vulnerably placed above his head to fully display his clammy, flexing torso. His ass clenched hard around Taehyung's length, the muscles still learning once again to relax. He wiggled his hips slightly to feel his boyfriend more, ''Move, please.''

Taehyung obliged— how could he say no when the younger asked politely?— grunting as he leaned forward to tower over Jungkook’s body, each hand placed by the younger’s head. “Hngh.. how’s that?” The elder bit down on his lip, fighting against the way his boyfriend clenched down on him, moderately picking up his pace until he felt himself hitting Kook’s prostate more often than not. Taehyung’s lips parted in a moan, jaw slack as he stared down at his boyfriend’s powerless form underneath him. “My pretty boy..” His pelvis slapped harshly against Jungkook’s ass over and over again, the sounds so lewd and wet just the way Taehyung liked it.

Jungkook's eyes glazed over with a layer of tears, expression mirroring the man above him with a parted mouth that had the most wanton of moans emitting from the younger's throat. Heavy breaths and whiny cries echoed in the room, Kook's body jolting upwards with every thrust he was blessed with. "So good, so fuckin' good- ahh.." Jungkook began struggling with stringing together a coherent sentence at this point, way too indulged in focusing on how the blossoming heat pooled in his lower stomach with every brush of Taehyung's bulbous tip against his prostate. "Harder, harder..." he meekly managed to whisper between breaths, greed overtaking his senses, daring to place his strong hands on Tae's hips to draw him closer, aiding the strength of their bodies clashing together-- practically fucking himself with his boyfriends body.

“Fuuck..!” Taehyung let his head tiredly hang between his broad shoulders, panting as he looked down at the way his cock was entering Jungkook over and over again; some of his precum dribbling down the younger’s skin. “S-shit, so tight..” The elder stared down at his boyfriend, able to make out Jungkook’s various expressions through the sweaty fringe dangling over his eyes. “C’mere.” He leaned down to capture the younger’s plump lips with his own, stifling both of their loud moans to instead feed their cries of pleasure to one another, letting each other have a ‘taste’ of how they were feeling. With their heaving, glistening chests tightly pressed up together, Taehyung felt Jungkook’s hardened cock rub against his lower stomach with every precise thrust inside of him. It got to a point where the elder’s flexed legs couldn’t afford to stand in place, but they weren’t done. Tae was so close, there was no way he was going to stop now. Pulling out of his boyfriend, Taehyung purposely ignored Kook’s cute whines. “Shh, baby. You’re still gonna have a taste of this cock.”

He quickly climbed up on the bed, messy strands of hair sticking to his tan skin as Tae scooted closer to the headboard, resting his head on a pillow before stroking his wet dick a few times. “Ride me,” it was an order, and he was hoping that by the look in his eyes, Jungkook would be able to understand.

Jungkook didn't hesitate to scramble up on his knees to crawl over to his boyfriend, straddling his hips. To think of it, he'd never fucked himself on the elders cock before; which was surprising. However, the thought alone of it had him foaming at the mouth. He wondered if he'd be able to make the elder just as much of a mess riding him. Jungkook leaned forward slightly, one palm firmly pressed against the elders chest for leverage as he used his other to align Tae’s cock with his entrance, wasting no time in sinking his hips down to regain the feeling of being so full once more. "Ah, fuck..." Kook hissed, the new angle providing a more prominent pleasure with the way Tae's mushroom tip prodded his prostate, "so big." He praised, placing both hands on Taehyung's chest as he started to move his hips to grind himself down on the fat length stirring up his tight, fleshy walls; triggering Jungkooks own untouched cock to twitch and bounce needily between them. "Touch me, please-- wanna cum all over you."

Taehyung gripped onto Jungkook’s sweaty thighs, squeezing the firm skin in between his fingers as he gazed up at his boyfriend, face slightly scrunched up in utter fulfillment. Seeing the younger straddling him; rosy cheeks paired with the number of intricate tattoos painted all over his upper body, it made Taehyung not want to look away for even a mere second.

His boyfriend looked too beautiful, Tae still couldn’t believe it.

“That feels so good..” He hissed, one hand reaching downwards to engulf Jungkook’s needy cock in his tight grasp, mercilessly pumping the length from the start. “F-fuck, Babe I’m gonna cum soon..!” Taehyung could feel the quiet rumbling in his lower stomach, along with the pool of heat slowly but surely building up.

"Me too," Jungkook threw his head back as one throaty moan after the other erupted from his parted lips. He swore his eyes would roll to the back of his skull if it was physically possible. "Gonna cum-- fuck, fuck, fuck!" The muscles in Kook's thighs worked hard, heaving his body up and down roughly to fuck himself on Taehyung's fat cock. It felt so fucking good, and now that the younger was able to set the pace he wanted, there was no room for mercy on himself-- or his boyfriend. He wanted the elders' length as deep as possible inside of him, rough and sweaty. All his pent up stress from the past few months mixed with the pure lust and missing Tae was all poured into this very moment. " Oh god now, now.. now!" Jungkook cried out with a broken moan as he came, ropes of white gushing out to pool on Taehyung's stomach. The intense muscle spasms had his insides clenching down hard on his boyfriends length, the tip continuously hitting kooks deepest parts. Sensitivity slowly washed over the younger, his cries becoming more painful as the elder didn't stop just yet-- not until Jungkook would be completely filled up.

Taehyung held on tight to his boyfriend’s jittery hips, blunt nails sinking deep into the skin as he sloppily fucked into Jungkook’s clenched insides. “Gonna cum so deep inside of you— fuck..” A series of grunts slipped past his rosy lips; the skin swollen from Taehyung biting down on them often. In the spur of the heated moment, that was the least of the elder’s worries— “I-I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna.. fuuuck!” His hips stiffened as he shot his heavy load inside of his boyfriend, warm spurts of cum completely stuffing Jungkook’s fleshy walls. Despite his fatigue, Tae proceeded to lazily thrust his cum deeper inside his boyfriend. “Shit..” The rocking of Taehyung’s hips slowly came to a stop, instead he focused on regaining his normal breathing, dick still twitching inside of Kook.

“Glad to be back,” a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips whilst he stared up at Jungkook, taking in the younger’s fucked-out state. Taehyung slightly sat up to push Kook’s body down against him, smoothing his hands over his boyfriend’s back, enjoying feeling the younger’s chest heaving against his. “Gotta admit, this was the best ‘welcome back’ present ever.” Tae mumbled against Jungkook’s temple, the tip of his pointer finger grazing over the tattoo’s outline on the younger’s upper arm.

"I was planning to make you dinner, but this surely beat that." Jungkook winced when he chuckled, pressing his cheek against the crook of his boyfriend's neck. They were a sweaty mess, cum between their bodies and inside of the younger. But they both didn't seem to mind, this was exactly how and where they wanted this to be. "I can still make some if you're hungry?" Jungkook looked up at Taehyung, "Just need to shower first... I'm kind of hungry."

“Dinner sounds great.” Taehyung beamed, delicately cupping the side of Jungkook’s face. He couldn’t believe it; no more long distance. Taehyung was back for good, they could finally start working towards the life they’ve always wanted.

The flame flickered a little brighter, and the feeling of uncertainty was long gone. Jungkook was happy, Tae was content— they didn’t need anything else. They had everything they needed right in front of their eyes.

“I love you.” It was simple, but Taehyung meant it each and every time. He didn’t know if there would ever be anyone he’d love as much as Jungkook, but for now.. he was pleased.

A few years later...

“I love you~” Taehyung cooed, nuzzling his nose into Taeyeon’s warm tummy. The baby obnoxiously giggled, eagerly moving her small limbs in response to her papa’s kisses on her pudgy skin. It was late at night, and they were laying on the bed with their four month old daughter in the middle. She’d woken up crying, in need of her fathers’ comfort. The fatigue that once took over Taehyung was now nonexistent, something about hearing their baby babble and squeal awakened him.. He hated it when she was distressed; if it meant he’d have to lose a few hours of sleep to hear Taeyeon laugh once again, it was worth it.

At first, Taehyung was terrified of becoming a father. They might have babysat Yuna for Namjoon and Jisoo once in a while, but this.. this was different. Taeyeon was going to be theirs forever— to love and care for. Part of him was afraid he would fuck it all up, that he’d end up like his own father.. But the moment a weeping Taeyeon was placed in his arms, however, Tae promised her he’d always be there for her. It was love at first sight, really.

She was their baby, their own little human to introduce life to. To know he’d take care of her alongside his husband? Taehyung felt blessed.

The night she was born was extremely stressful, Tae wished they were allowed in the delivery room, but it was a closed adoption. He simply remembered squeezing on tight to his husband’s hand, hoping that everything went smoothly. The second he heard a muffled fit of cries, Taehyung swore immediate tears rushed to his sleep-deprived eyes. It wasn’t until they were allowed to hold her that the elder felt a hint of every emotion sink down on him; he broke down. Joy, fear, anxiety, but most of all love.. Namjoon recorded every single second of it, zooming in on the family as they lovingly gazed down at a newborn Taeyeon. “You’re daddies now!” Joon’s excited voice rung from behind the camera. It was an unforgettable moment, for everyone included...

“Taeyeon, I love you~” Taehyung repeated, cheekily smiling down at her before facing Jungkook, noting the same look of adoration on his husband’s face. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Tae pressed a kiss onto the younger’s shoulder. Taeyeon stared up at her fathers with big, doe eyes, wondering why they weren’t giving her anymore attention.

''She is.'' Jungkook agreed softly, his toothy grin growing as his eyes flickered between Taehyung and Taeyeon. At one point, for the longest time, Jungkook didn't believe he would love anybody as much as he loved Taehyung. But oh, how wrong he was. When he first laid eyes on their new addition to the family, it was as if his heart grew double in size. He loved the little girl with his entire being.

His love wasn't split, it simply grew for the two of them.

''Oh look, she's jealous that I get your kisses.'' Kook giggled as he reached to pick their daughter up to lay her on his chest, pressing a soft kiss on her head before her cheek pressed against Kook's firm pecs. They served as perfect sleeping pillows for their little one, and her eyes loved to follow the patterns of his added tattoo collection adorning his chest and shoulders.

Immediately, Taeyeon seemed content to feel the safety of her fathers' warmth, cooing quietly as her eyes seemed to flutter shut. Jungkook glanced over at Tae with a grin, beaming with pride.

Who would've thought both of them would end up here after all these years; tackling hurdles and growing together. It's been a total mess, but without it they wouldn't be who they are today.

''Hey,'' Jungkook nudged his husband, inching his face closer with a plush pout, ''Tell me you love me too, I get jealous when she gets all of it.''

Taehyung rolled his tired eyes, but amusingly smiled nonetheless as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss onto his husband’s childish pout, instinctively blanketing his warm hand over Taeyeon’s bare back; afraid she’d get cold.

This ‘kiss’ was probably the most action they’ve gotten in weeks. As it turns out, babies really do take up the majority of your time.. The elder wouldn’t change a thing, though. Their daughter’s needs were the first priority.

“I love you too, dumbass.” As a cherry on top, Tae stamped a bundle of little kisses over Jungkook’s face, careful not to disturb Taeyeon. She was a heavy sleeper for the most part, but there were some rare occasions.. The thought of her high-pitched cries made Taehyung’s ears ring.

“Ah, Yeonie looks so cute sleeping on your chest like that. I need to take a picture.” The elder reached for his small camera that was placed on the nightstand, precisely aiming the lens towards his husband and daughter.

“Say cheese, Jeons~” He cooed barely above a whisper, managing to capture a few frame-worthy shots. A couple years of practice surely did him a few favors. The businessman's life wasn’t for him, as Taehyung came to find out. He just wasn’t.. happy, he didn’t feel fulfilled in his stressful choice of a career. It made him miserable every waking morning. Thankfully, life works in marvelous ways, and he was introduced to the art of photography. Taehyung fell in love with the idea of permanently ceasing life’s certain moments. One’s existence flew by in a flash, but with his camera, he was able to hold on to that point in time for as long as he wanted. Tae found that really cool. He was pretty good at it, too.

Once he was pleased with the pictures, Taehyung sat the camera to the side, reminding himself to set it as his phone’s lock screen later. The elder’s thumb lightly caressed over Taeyeon’s back, feeling their little one’s comforting breaths whilst she slept.

“She loves napping on your chest,” Tae giggled, reminded of all the times she’d cry and beg for Jungkook’s presence whenever he was away at work. “Remember that one time she puked on you, though?”

"That one time still haunts my dreams," Jungkook scrunched his nose as he chuckled quietly, not as worried about whether their little bundle of joy would wake up. She was a heavy sleeper, for the most part; but on his chest she was like an immovable rock. Kook yawned, the bags under his eyes were prominent. But he was happy. Losing sleep together with Taehyung was everything he ever wanted... figuring out how to be parents together were one of the most beautiful moments of his life; and he had deemed many memories with that title. He could make an entire list. "I think you can get some sleep now babe, she's all passed out." Jungkook adds as he uses his free arm to pull his husband closer, urging him to sleep on the younger's free side of the chest, knowing Tae does love it just as much as Taeyeon.

Finally having both of his most treasured people in his entire life close to his heart, breathing soundly in unison.. He wasn't sure if Tae was actually asleep; but he was great at just... enjoying the moment these days. Kook couldn't sleep just yet, his mind racing as usual as he reminisced about the past. He thought back to everything; how every piece of their path had mattered to be where they are today.

And to think that this crazy Love Maze had started by the slip of a fucking shoelace on the dirty gymnasium floor all those years ago.

THE END.

Thank you so much for reading and following along this story. I really appreciate all the kind comments, ranging from frustration towards the character's dumbass decisions, the heat of their moments, and the love for their growth. I'm so attached to these characters it hurts to see it end.

HOWEVER... I have a couple smutty oneshots throughout various times during their relationships, if you'd like me to post those please let me know in the comments.

I love you all! And an endless amount of love for @velvetwicebang for writing this with me.I seriously can’t find the words for how much ily :( <3 -xoxo, sombreboy

#fic: Love maze #taekook smut #vkook smut #taehyung x jungkook #sombreboy

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have-each-others-six · 4 years

Text

time will tell, she’ll see us through (pt. four)

***

part one

part two

part three

***

“It looks smaller on our days off,” Cathy comments, looking up at the marquee of the theater and stepping back to take in the building. “Doesn’t it look smaller now than it does on show days?”

Aragon shrugs, laughing a little bit at the intense concentration in Cathy’s squint as she tries to compare the theater’s appearance to the last time she saw it. “It looks the same to me. Maybe I’m just not observant enough,” she says, looking up at the way the sun is peeking out over the top of the building.

After another few minutes, Aragon nudges Cathy lightly. “Come on, weren’t you just saying how we absolutely need to find your manuscript? Let’s go inside.”

“You’re right,” Cathy says, swallowing hard and coming out of her reverie with a quick shake of the head. “You’re… you’re right. Let’s go in.”

The theater doesn’t feel like a theater without all the people inside of it. The startling silence, in combination with Cathy’s dread about the loss of her one testament to her legacy, makes the entire space feel ghostly. They see a few of the janitorial staff that make the rounds on days off, but the energy of everybody bustling around, shouting out requests for food and info on mic changes and the time till shows, is jarringly absent.

One of the staff lets her into the greenroom after she confirms it’s nowhere among the rows of seats, and her heart starts to beat faster in her chest and in her ears because this is her last chance to find it- this is the last possible place it could be.

She feels desperation through her whole body, tugging her in all different directions as she runs through the dressing rooms, looking and looking and hoping against hope that it’ll be leaned up against something or on a side table or next to a pile of scripts, her mind inventing new places one after the other, but each one is refuted.

Eventually, when all of the possibilities have been exhausted, Cathy ends up in the middle of the stage, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes darting everywhere like maybe if she looks away and looks back the manuscript will reappear.

She’s lost without that manuscript. She had told Aragon earlier today that it was everything, and that isn’t far from the truth. This story is a part of her- or maybe all of her at this point.

This is all she is, all she knows how to be, because for such a long time it was her sole purpose. She was the only one with the means to do it, one of the few women with the ability to read and write and the platform to make her ideas heard, so she vowed to write something powerful that would change the world. If the manuscript is gone, it means that power is gone too.

There’s a gentle hand on her shoulder, and it nearly makes her jump out of her skin.

“It’s not here,” she says softly without turning around to face her godmother, and she hates, hates, hates crying in front of people but now she’s hiccuping through her sobs, feeling snot and tears on her face and not much caring because she doesn’t know if there’s any care left in her. “It’s not here, it’s not here, it’s not here, and if it’s not here it’s not anywhere- there’s nowhere else it could be. It’s lost, Catherine, it’s lost.”

“Come here,” Aragon says, and it isn’t soft and overly sweet, which Cathy would’ve hated right now, instead it’s gentle and it’s sincere, and when she collapses into Aragon’s arms and cries so hard her chest hurts the queen just rubs her back in a slow, steady motion.

“It’s lost,” Cathy repeats thickly. “It’s lost…”

“Listen to me,” Aragon tells her quietly, and her voice is a murmur but somehow cuts through the blaring, screechy panic in Cathy’s ears. “You will come back from this,” she promises.

“No, I won’t,” Cathy spits, even though it isn’t Aragon she’s angry at. She doesn’t know who she’s angry at, actually. It might be herself, for ever letting that stack of paper out of her sight. Or maybe she’s angry at God, the prick. God took Mary from her, has He now seen fit to take her manuscript as well, her only connection to her fragile little baby girl?

“I’ll never be able to write again,” she says bitterly, pushing away out of Aragon’s hold. “I won’t trust it- my writing’s going to be awful for the rest of my life, because I won’t be able to invest any sort of hope in it. I poured everything into this manuscript, this curation of my memory, and I lost it. Who’s to say I won’t lose everything I ever write?” She swallows hard. “Who’s to say I won’t lose all of my memories?”

“That won’t-”

“It happened to Henry, near the end,” Cathy interrupts. “I watched it happen. He started to call me the names of all of you- of his other wives- when he was speaking to me. Once, he thought I was Anne, and he flew into a rage- called me a witch, a harlot, a useless hag, over and over until his face was purple. He forgot the names of his favorite lords, he forgot what he believed in… he forgot until he wasn’t himself anymore, but a shell of who he once was.” She looks at Catherine with a glassy fear in her eyes. “I can’t become like that.”

“You won’t,” Aragon tells her gently. “You’ll have us- we’ll remind you every day of who you are if we have to.”

“But what if I forget who you are?” Cathy asks, in a voice so soft and terrified it’s clear where her worries lie, and it also helps Aragon to finally fully understand why the manuscript is so important to her and why she’s so broken because it’s gone.

She sits down on the steps of the stage, Cathy sitting next to her, and as Aragon puts her arm around her they can hear the muffled noises of the city though the walls of the theater in their silence.

“You still have that last page of your manuscript, right?” she asks quietly, indicating Cathy’s pocket, where the folded piece of notebook paper is.

“Right,” Cathy answers sort of thickly, a little confused as to what Aragon’s getting at.

“Read it to me, will you?”

“It’s incomplete, though,” Cathy tells her. “It’s just the last page, there’s nothing else lef-” her voice cracks. “If the rest of it is lost, what’s the point of the last page?”

“I want to hear it,” Aragon replies gently. “It’s still the last page of something you worked very hard on- it’s the culmination of your story, of all of our stories, and you might’ve lost most of it, but you still have this page and I would like to hear what you wrote.”

Cathy pulls the piece of paper out of her pocket, and it seems too neatly and nicely folded for everything it holds. “It’s not very long,” she says softly.

She leans against Aragon as she flattens out the last page on her knee, and she feels like it’s been a hundred years since she finished writing it yesterday, sitting in almost the exact same spot. She can see the whole auditorium from here- the dim lighting that they turn on to clean the aisles illuminates it just enough that she can see how big the theater really is.

Suddenly, she feels very small.

“Our lives are not limited to the scope of Henry’s reign,” she reads quietly. “They never should have been. Placing us in a miniscule box of marriage and labeling us with words from a rhyme does not allow us our humanity- to have feeling, to have depth, to be complex and mutlilayered like every person on this earth deserves to be. We have had the extraordinary, improbable privilege of getting a second chance at life, and the gift of being allowed to tell our stories on the stage, but we have to look at other lives the way people are learning to look at ours- as something whole, not as something incomplete.”

She looks over at Aragon, taking herself out of reading her own words for a moment, and the woman’s eyes are closed. She’s genuinely listening.

“History is complicated. History is not just looking at people through the lens of what is told about them, it is searching for the truth in their existences. We often ignore either the good or bad in people to paint them as one simple thing, but everyone is human, and we need to appreciate people in their entirety.”

Her handwriting got messy here. It’s hard to read as it slopes and scrawls, like it’s bending under the weight of the emotion in the words- her words. She thinks she might be crying- these are her words, this is the end of her story. This is the end.

“Our opportunity will not be wasted. We don’t know how long we have, but we know that we have a story to tell, and we will tell it in its complete and true nature for as long as we can.” She swallows, hard. She doesn’t need to look at the paper for the last two sentences, because those aren’t just on the page- they’re in her heart, her lungs, in every breath she takes. She feels these last words in her chest every time she puts her pen to paper. “We should all be given the chance to share our story. I am grateful to have been given the chance to share mine with the people I love.” Her next breath shudders when she exhales it out of her lungs, and when she looks over at her godmother again the woman’s eyes are open and flooded with tears. “You are brilliant,” she whispers, smiling, and cups Cathy’s cheek in her hand. “You are brilliant.” “Well, that’s all there is,” Cathy says in a weak sort of voice, and gives a watery laugh, one that doesn’t have a whole lot of humor in it. “The rest is gone.” Aragon rubs her thumb over Cathy’s cheek and looks her in the eye, sincerity and pride evident in her gaze. “Your brilliancy isn’t dependent on the manuscript, darling. You have always been a writer, and you have always had your words. The words in your manuscript may have been lost, but you have so much more in you,” she says, and a tiny smile flickers over her face, her joy showing itself in the small action. “This is not the only story you have to tell, I can feel it.”

“I don’t know if I have any stories left in me,” Cathy says quietly, sincerely, and her voice is fraying at the edges. “What do you mean?” Aragon asks gently, her eyes soft. “Of course you have stories left in you. The historians might say this is the most important one- this is the one that talks about what happened from the perspective of people who actually experienced it, it talks about our feelings on being left out of history from our very unique position of having been reincarnated- it’s a good story to tell, and I think you should try to write it again. But it is not your only story.”

“How do you know?” Cathy demands, still shaking. “How can you say that if you don’t know?”

“You love to write,” Aragon says simply. “You are made of stories, my dear. Every writer is. The way they see the world is through a lens of words. You could write an absolutely incredible story about something as simple as the way the stage looks in the lights right now because of that.” She looks over at Cathy after a few minutes of quiet. “You’ll find a new story.”

“I wish I was as sure as you are,” Cathy mutters. “You don’t have to be. Just don’t give up.” Cathy goes back to leaning against Aragon’s shoulder, and they stay like that for a long while, the smaller woman curled into her godmother’s side, but eventually, in silence, the two of them stand up, leave the theater, and get in the car, Aragon driving them home to the house.

Before they open the door, Cathy has to breathe in and lean against it. She has to acknowledge the piece of her heart that’s been lost along with her manuscript for a moment before she goes back to her family- before she has to really face what’s happened and let it sink in.

She really, really doesn’t want to go inside. But she turns the doorknob anyway.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Jane says, visibly relieved when they walk in the front door, getting to her feet. She checks over Cathy first, then Aragon, looking them up and down with quiet worry in her eyes. “Can you tell me what’s going on yet?” she asks softly once she’s done making sure they’re both all right, and Cathy hates herself for being the reason that there’s that anxious crease between her eyebrows.

She looks over at Aragon and then back to Jane, who always pokes her head in and checks up on Cathy if she’s been upstairs too long, who makes her tea or coffee when she stays up late with a story, who offers up synonyms when she’s scared she’s using a word too many times. “I don’t know how to tell you,” Cathy murmurs, because that’s the truth. She’s fairly sure Aragon means what she says about not feeling let down by the loss of the manuscript, but she’s not sure that Jane will- Jane’s put so much hope into this, both out of love for Cathy and out of a wish that people will read her story.

Jane nods, chewing on the inside of her cheek and crossing her arms tightly over her chest- a sign that she’s nervous, trying to protect herself. “Are you… can you at least promise me that you’re safe? That you aren’t in danger?” “I’m not in danger,” Cathy answers sincerely, holding Jane’s worried gaze. “Really, I’m not.” “You’d- you’d tell me if you were?” Jane asks. Her eyes are soft and gray and fragile. “I would.”

“All right,” Jane replies, and she looks conflicted as she watches Cathy turn to head upstairs. “I… I think it’s really wonderful that you’ve let Kat write some pieces of your manuscript,” she tells her quietly. “It’s good that you’re giving yourself a bit of a rest.” Cathy turns back around, confusion apparent in her expression, but it’s Aragon who speaks. “What? Do you mean the interview? Katherine didn’t write anything for that, she just answered Cathy’s questions.” “Oh,” Jane says, brow furrowing. “I must’ve heard her wrong, then- this morning, when I went into her room, she had your manuscript, Cathy, and she said she was just checking her edits over when I asked her why she had it.” Aragon realizes what that means at the same time Cathy does, and Cathy grips her godmother’s arm. “This morning? Are you absolutely certain it was this morning?” the last queen asks. “Yes, just after you left,” Jane replies, confused. “Why?”

Cathy feels too many different emotions flood her system, and her heartbeat sounds too loud in her ears.

“Excuse me,” she hears herself say in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like her own, and she turns around and strides towards Kit’s bedroom.

Her mind is always filled with thoughts- Aragon was right, she does experience the world through words, and her brain is usually crowded with perceptions, but this is different than her normal, slightly helter-skelter stream of consciousness.

She is being bombarded with feelings of betrayal, the dizzy realization that her manuscript might not be lost, and the no, no, no, it can’t be my Kit thoughts all at the same time, because it can’t be her Kit who would cause her this much pain.

The girl was there when Cathy woke up from that nightmare this morning, she knows how important the manuscript is. She would never intentionally cause Cathy pain, and especially not by targeting her writing.

Right?

As she walks slowly down the hallway, she feels like she did when she was a child taking deportment classes and balancing books on her head, only instead of books it’s the weight of trust and loss and fear, and if she loses her balance she might lose her mind.

Aragon and Jane are staring after the sixth queen in a sort of shock, and Jane looks to Aragon in fear and confusion.

“What’s going on?” she asks worriedly. “Is Katherine in trouble?”

“If Cathy’s right,” Aragon starts, not elaborating on what that means, “she’s going to be.”

***

taglist: @thenicestnonbinary, @soultastic

#the angst is strong with this one #and it will only get stronger #six #six the musical fanfiction #time will tell she'll see us through #catherine of aragon #anne boleyn #jane seymour #anna of cleves #katherine howard #catherine parr #six the musical fanfic

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