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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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What I Thought About "Eda's Requiem" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

...

...HOW IS SEASON TWO SO GOOD?! WE'VE HAD SEVEN EPISODES SO FAR, AND EACH ONE OF THEM WAS A HIT!

Take "Eda's Requiem," for example. It's yet another episode where I have NOTHING bad to say about it! That's two weeks in a row where that happened! HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?!

HOW!

...But anyways, "Eda's Requiem." It's another fantastic episode, and I'm about to dive into explaining how and why. Just keep in mind, it's gonna require spoilers to do so, so be wary of that as you keep reading.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Eda’s Checklist and Grom Photo: Within the first second, "Eda's Requiem" perfectly sets up Eda's central conflict in the episode. Despite spending years being on her own and looking after herself, she now has two kids that she's constantly caring over. Eda can try all she wants to say that she doesn't care, and I bet she has in the past. But given the hard work she's putting into getting King and Luz what they need and having a grom photo of the three of them together pinned in her mirror, it's pretty clear that those two knuckleheads wormed their way into her heart and are never getting out.

Eda’s Worried About King and Luz Leaving: And thus, that's precisely why something like this bothers her so much. Eda inadvertently adopted two rambunctious rapscallions (Yeah, I know. I'll get to it), so the idea of them not being around her anymore is going to be terrifying. That is a situation most parents, especially mothers, can identify with. It’s called empty nest syndrome and it proves just how much Eda loves Luz and King that she can't stand the thought of her babies leaving the nest. It's yet another well-made, wholesome, found-family moment that this series continues to excel at each week, making me extra excited for more like it to come...while also readying myself for heartbreak when one of them eventually does leave Eda.

Eda and Raine’s Music: Ok, I don't know the exact instruments that were played during this episode, but I also don't care because it was all (for lack of a better term) music to my ears. Every time Eda and Raine played resulted in melodies that are so beautiful and filled with so much emotion and feeling that I'm honestly tempted to listen to them again, multiple times, on repeat. Shows rarely do that for me, as background music doesn't always draw me in as much as lyrical songs do. Usually, it takes something so extraordinarily composed to give me the desire to listen again, and that's the case here. So huge congrats to Brad Breek for doing so. Seriously, the man's been killing it this season.

Eda’s Bard Magic Causing Things to Turn to Ash: This was assuredly a surprise side-effect of the curse. The fact that Eda can sort of do magic at all was its own shock. To then reveal that a specific type can do dangerous things to people and environments is...Well, it definitely brings up its own fair share of questions. Like, how can she do this? Will she do it again, one day? And are there other types of spells that can be negatively affected by Eda's curse? We don't get answers for any of these questions, and odds are, we never will. But that's alright with me. Because if a show makes me consider these many possibilities after a brief amount of time, it is a show that has to be doing something right. Even if I don't get the answers I want, the fact that it caused such a reaction makes me less willing to care.

Raine Whispers: Hey, would you look at that. Another fun, interesting, and compelling character added to the list of this shows' other fun, interesting, and compelling characters...how is this series so good at this!?

Joking aside, Raine's pretty good. I like Raine. They could have been this super serious leader who lost all their fun after years apart from Eda, but I'm glad that they're not. There are moments when Raine takes their job as leader of the BATs seriously, as one would, but I still prefer the fact that they kept a jovial nature despite how grim their situation is. It's an admirable trait to have, and it avoids the trope of making leader characters boring just because they're the ones who have to take things seriously.

Oh, and also, Raine's Disney's first non-binary character who has a stake in the plot. This is a tremendous deal, as you don't usually see that many non-binary characters in children's animation, let alone ones that hold importance to the story. So it's pretty cool for the writers to feature Raine, as it helps several kids feel as though they're finally seen and respected. And the fact that Disney of all companies gave the thumbs up is even more impressive. I hear people say that Dana Terrace should have pitched The Owl House to more progressive networks to avoid pushback, and while I absolutely see your point, I'll have to respectfully disagree. Disney is the largest entertainment industry of all time, so if you want to make LGBTQA+ representation normalized, you gotta stop making splashes and start making waves. Because if the same company that made three racist cats in the span of a few years manages to say that being gay is a-ok, then you know there's something wrong with you. Yes, Disney ended up screwing over the show anyway. But for that one moment, when kids felt pride after seeing a character like Raine, then, in the end, it's kind of worth it.

Also, if you're still having issues with more representation like this popping up in kids' shows, then allow me to redirect you to the complaint department.

...I made that post earlier today for this bit. YOU HAVE BETTER APPRECIATED IT!

Day of Unity is meant to be a Secret: At least, that's what I got when Raine stumbled over their own words. So if it's true, then I wonder why? Why does Belos want to keep the most critical change in the Boiling Isles a secret? Does he want to make it a surprise for his grateful subjects, or does he not want to spread worry and fear amongst the wild witches? It has to be something big if he doesn't want his followers to even say the words "Day of Unity." Whatever reason he has, we most likely won't know until the future. A future that I grow more and more afraid of each week.

Hooty Eating Echo Mouse: My heart sank in that brief moment when I thought that Hooty intensely screwed Luz over in getting back home. But looking back...it is pretty funny.

Just the suddenness of Hooty eating the poor creature that Luz desperately tried to earn its trust is priceless in how shocking it was. And also, Luz's expression.

That was the look of a young girl who immediately shoved her hand down an owl demon's throat the second the scene cut away. The Owl House may not always be a hit in the comedy department, but scenes like this prove that when it's funny, it is hilarious.

Luz and King Entering the Grand Prix: Not much to discuss here. It's just a cute subplot that adds frivolity to the intensity of what's going on through Eda and Raine's story. But I will say that I love how both stories occasionally interconnect with each other through the many moments of Eda being worried about King wanting to leave to find his father and avoiding any conversation about it. It helps both plotlines feel like they belong together, without being something like "Through the Looking Glass Ruins," whereas both stories could have been in their own episode. Which is neat.

How Bard Magic Works: I really love how this season is diving into how the other magic types work. More specifically, the ones that seem a little vague. I mean, stuff like healing, potions, and plants are easy to figure out, but what does it mean when a witch's talents are construction, beast keeping, and bard magic? We've been getting a lot of clearing up lately, with bard magic looking like a witch can control their environments and enemies through the power of music. Which is fair. Music is pretty powerful in the metaphorical sense, and I actually love that it's powerful in the literal sense when in the Boiling Isles.

The BATs: Not much to comment on these three either. The BATs have the potential to have an entertaining dynamic, but they do very little in this episode that I can't say much other than I hope they make a return in the future. But I will make this claim: Amber is my favorite. I'm sorry, but her screaming "You're not our mom!" to then go, "Bye, mommy Eda" is just too precious for me not to love.

I'm a simple man who falls for cute s**t. Leave me alone.

Raeda (RainexEda): Well, EdaxCamila, you were a fun crack ship while it lasted, but I'm afraid that this is now goodbye. The current canon has provided an incredibly adorable and believable relationship that I would be a monster not to support with my whole bi-heart. It's been real.

Ok, back in serious mode: I love these two together. Eda and Raine are grown-ups, and they still act all flustered near each other as if they were still Luz and Amity's age. It's definitive proof that you're never too old to get flustered near a crush, and seeing them interact adds a sense of wholesomeness when seeing them together as well as heartbreak when they're forced apart. Plus, we get confirmation that Eda's LGBTQA+! Whether she's bi, pan, or whatever, now that we know Eda can catch feelings for someone like Raine, it's yet another case that The Owl House is the most important series to the community. Because having the main character be queer is fantastic in its own right. But having the same apply to the motherly mentor figure? That's is an extra bit of normalization that anybody would be willing to appreciate.

Unique Guard Designs: Not many fans are going to appreciate this, primarily compared to everything else this episode does perfectly. For me, I actually like that you see a few Coven Guards looking differently from the others, as it helps make them less like clones and makes it seem like anybody of any body type could be a part of the coven.

Gus Looking Uninterested when Presenting Grand Prix with his Dad: I am positive that you didn't notice this (I didn't even notice it until someone else pointed it out), but there's something to dissect here. It hints that perhaps Gus isn't as interested in his father's field of work as one might think. If he did, he would look a lot less bored and much more excited to be helping Perry Porter present the race. It could just be the race itself, but judging from Gus' expression, it really seems like the kid would prefer to be anywhere but there. And why would he have that reaction to a race that his best friend is competing in? To me, this seems like an inkling of what Gus' relationship with Perry could be, which may not actually get time to shine, what with how little wiggle room the series has now (Thanks Disney). Regardless, it is interesting to notice, and it will certainly have fans thinking for a while.

Bump Being Smug of Luz Being in the Lead: That's it. Principal Bump looking smug as his human student is beating the students of his rivals is yet another moment that proves why Bump is easily the best cartoon principal.

Darius: First of all, this guy is f**king fabulous, and I love him. *Snaps*

Second, he is definitive proof that you do NOT want to f**k around with Coven Leaders. Lilith may have had her intimidating moments, but none of them compare to the guy who can turn himself into an abomination monster where only magic that hasn't existed before can take him down. It's genuinely scary to see Darius lose control, and I fear for the day when Luz inevitably ends up in his crosshairs.

With that said, Darius' still a ton of fun! He may be threatening, but he's just a flamboyant guy that hates the idea of getting his outfit the tiniest bit dirty. And I love that. I love that these Coven Heads have actual personalities instead of being generically evil. I consider it preferable to make villains entertaining rather than blatantly scary as I'll remember the personalities first and the villainous acts last.

Eberwolf: But this one's my favorite. I told you: I'm a simple man who gets easily swayed by cute s**t. And Eber? I mean, just look at her:

She's just a cute widdle rascal! I just want to pinch her cheeks, give her a belly rub, and--

...Eberwolf is not a cute widdle rascal. She is a strong, independent woman, and I will respect her as such from this moment forward...lest I feel her wrath.

That is all. Let's move on.

Eda and Raine Attempting a Final Performance: This was the best scene of the episode. It looked gorgeous, it shows the dedication Eda and Raine have for stopping Belos, and it says so much through so little. Go back and look at how Eda and Raine regard one another when performing Eda's requiem. Through their expressions and a few short words, you know they understand that if they complete the song/spell, they probably won't make it in the end. And yet, they don't care. They both know bad stuff will happen if Belos wins, so Eda and Raine put everything to the side, both their feelings for one another and the people they leave behind if it means putting an end to a tyrant. That level of dedication...Words can't fully describe how powerful that is.

Raine Sacrificing Themselves Instead: But in the end, Raine can't do it. Not when they know the life that Eda has and the people she'll be leaving behind. It's an extra bit of nobleness to the character seeing that Raine refuses to take away a woman from two kids who need her the most. A tad bit selfish, sure, knowing what Belos has planned. But when it comes to love, the romantic, familial, or platonic, the best decisions aren't always the logical ones.

Eda Crying: Luz crying tears me up, but seeing Eda cry is a whole different level of heartbreak. Like Lilith, Eda has her emotions locked up tight, with the closest she came to weeping were those two tears in "Young Blood, Old Souls." In "Eda's Requiem," she cries but almost quickly stops herself. As if she knows that doing so isn't going to save Raine. That is...even worse than seeing Luz break down after losing Eda. The fact that Eda refuses to give herself time to mourn losing someone she loved is tragic because crying is the most natural way of showing grief. Turning that off isn't healthy, and seeing her do it with little resistance is sad to me. It's sad to see a character I love can easily shut off all emotions despite how badly she may want to embrace them. It's one of those moments that, again, by doing so little, it shows so much.

“No one watches Crystal Balls anymore. It’s all about streaming.”: Oof. Even I felt that burn towards cable.

King’s Message: King's message was the pick-me-up I needed after the heart-wrenching sadness this episode put me through a few minutes ago. Seeing King say who he is and listing all the things he loves is nothing short of adorable. On top of that, I adore that Eda willingly recorded the whole thing. She may not want King to leave, but that doesn't mean she'll sabotage the one thing he wants. Especially not after Raine gave up everything so Eda could be with her kids. The opening scene may prove how much Eda cares about a rascal like King, but this heartwarmingly sweet moment reveals just how far she'll go to make him happy.

King’s Dad Reveal: ...ok, I'll be honest, I did not think we'd get that reveal this soon. Dumb of me to say, considering the number of times I've said that these writers don't waste time getting to the s**t, I know. But still, it's pretty cool knowing that King's dad is alive and well, added with the fact that we've got a fair idea of what he looks like. At this point, it's only a matter of time before we see him figure out where the Clawthorne residence is and witness the tear-jerking moments that will follow.

King Changing his Name to King Clawthorne: Not the official adoption I was expecting Eda to make...but DANG IT, is it still diabetes-inducing levels of sweetness!

Personally, I feel like the main reason why Eda breaks down this time is not only because she shouldn't be worried about King leaving her life, but also because Raine's sacrifice wasn't in vain. Her kids really do need Eda because no matter how far apart they'll be, she will always be a part of their life...dang it, I'm going to cry too!

What those Coven patches really do: Well...that was horrifying to see.

...Writers, if you kill off the best non-binary character in animation (it's a short list, I know), we are going to have PROBLEMS!

IN CONCLUSION

"Eda's Requiem" is--surprise surprise--another A+. The emotions hit hard, the representation hits harder, Raine is a fantastic addition to the cast, and it was all surprisingly cute at times. Season Two is currently on a hot streak, constantly winning with every episode that's come out so far. When a bad episode does eventually show up (IT'S GONNA HAPPEN!), I'll be sure to sing my requiem then. For now, I'm just gonna enjoy the ride.

#the owl house #the owl house season 2 #the owl house reviews #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #raeda #king of demons #toh darius #toh eberwolf #what i thought about

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dhwty-writes · 4 years

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I've had 'Just give me a reason' by pink stuck in my head all day lol, I humbly offer it as a song prompt if it sparks anything :D

“If it sparks anything”... Fam, I just astralprojected back to 2013 and my first kiss! I had a lot of fun with it (although I got a bit distracted midway through, I’m sorry!)

I also couldn’t decide whether I wanted to do a post-mountain fix-it fic or a modern AU, so you’ll get both! Here’s the angsty one (that’s way longer than expected) :)

Read on AO3

The unfairness of it all as he staggered down the steep mountainside was overwhelming. Twenty years of his life for... what exactly? For nothing at all!

Over half of his measly human life he'd spent trailing after that grumpy... horse's arse of a witcher. He poured his heart and soul into a song cycle just to change Geralt's undeserved horrible reputation! (And to get rich, of course, but that was neither here nor there.) By rights he should claim ten percent of Geralt's income, but did he? No, of course not!

He'd never asked anything in return. Nothing but company, a friend, a tiny bit of affection even. Not love, of course. He might be delusional and a hopeless romantic, but not that much of an imbecile.

He knew Geralt loved Yennefer and that the affection was mutual. It was pretty much obvious for about anyone who saw them together. And Jaskier wasn't just anyone. He and the witcher shared just about anything — food, coin, clothes, beds sometimes, when it was cold or there was only one room left. And, though the witcher denied that fervently, Geralt talked in his sleep sometimes.

Jaskier had discovered that one freezing night in a tavern in Kovir, when he'd woken up because he was uncomfortably warm. Additionally, to the heap of quilted blankets they laid under, Geralt had draped himself over him, too, clutching him tight against his chest. 'Cute,' Jaskier had thought, 'Geralt's a cuddler.'

But then he had started talking, and it had been torture of the most exquisite kind. Most of his ramblings were unintelligible, but those he could understand were unbearably sweet. "Don't go," Geralt would say whenever Jaskier tried to move away. Or "C'mere" and tug him closer to his chest. There were plenty of "Y'smell good"s and, on one memorable occasion an "I love you". None of them were meant for him, of course. But, oh, how he wanted them to be.

Jaskier had fallen for Geralt the moment he'd spotted him in that tavern, grumpily nursing his tankard of ale. He'd been absolutely smitten as soon as they walked free from Filavandrel and Geralt smiled at his "Respect doesn't make history" nonsense, thinking he wouldn't see. They had travelled together for the better part of a month, before destiny had parted them again. At an inn at the crossroads Jaskier had stolen a pretty lad's virginity and Geralt had ridden off into the sunset, not knowing he had stolen Jaskier's heart in turn. 'Good old days.'

Only that they weren't good anymore. Jaskier heaved a sigh that sounded more like a sob than anything else. What had previously been a rose-and-gold-coloured fantasy of a memory, seemed now rather dull, truth be told.

After a few weeks going their separate way, Jaskier had heard of a witcher near Hagge and gone to seek him out. They had travelled again, on and off. Most of the time it had been him, who had actively looked for Geralt, tracking down rumours about white-haired monster hunters. But not always.

Right before the whole child surprise ordeal, it had been him performing in a tavern and Geralt barrelling inside, interrupting him mid-song. "Jaskier!" the witcher had shouted. "There you are. I've got a contract, come with me?"

Or that other time in early fall. He'd gotten himself a comfortable place for the winter in the home of some noble lady, who he'd been entertaining with music, poems and other uses of his silver tongue alike, when one early evening a servant knocked on their door, quite adamantly insisting there was a visitor for the troubadour. His host had been none too pleased when he'd gotten up and dressed to greet a witcher of all people. "What the fuck were you thinking, bard," Geralt had growled, "not showing up all summer. I thought you were dead."

All in all, Jaskier had thought that his affection was, at least to some extent, reciprocated. And now this.

After twenty years the moment he'd dreaded had finally come. Twenty years of lavishing Geralt with love. Geralt, the person who'd been told he couldn't feel, mustn't feel. Twenty years of shouting his adoration to the heavens, to finally be told that it was unwanted.

To borrow Geralt's words: "Fuck." He needed a drink.

~*~

Geralt of Rivia was an idiot and he knew it. The revelation had dawned on him almost instantly after his foolish outbreak. Well, not entirely instantly. He had a feeling, at the very least, although he hadn't expected the bard to take his words literally.

He hadn't been able to get rid of him with his gruff exterior before, so he hadn't thought he would now. The realisation that Jaskier was truly gone dawned on him, when he reached the base of the mountain a few days later and the bard was nowhere to be found.

Roach was still there, as were Geralt's bags. Their content wasn't. After twenty years of carrying frivolous outfits, chewed-on quills tattered notebooks that smelled of lavender, they were uncomfortably light.

"Fuck," Geralt said quietly. He didn't know why, but some part of him had hoped to find Jaskier there. 'Where he belongs,' his brain supplied unhelpfully. He frowned deeply, trying to rid himself of that thought. Jaskier wasn't some kind of possession to be owned.

But when he settled down for the night that evening, the forest devoid of any melodic chattering, of joyful laughter, of life, he knew it was true. Jaskier might not belong to him, he mused as he crawled into his bedroll. 'But he belongs to my side all the same.'

Somewhere along the twenty years of companionship — gods, was it truly twenty years? It was nothing for him, but such a long time for humans, who aged so fast — Jaskier had managed to firmly worm himself under Geralt's skin, to the point where there was something missing now that he was truly gone.

Geralt slept terribly that night. When the sun rose the next morning, he set out on another hunt. Not for a monster, that time, but the best thing destiny had ever given to him, that he had chased away with his brashness.

The scavenger hunt led him halfway across the continent, until he stumbled into another tavern on the coast of Temeria. Jaskier's trail hadn't been too hard to follow. Apparently, his friend had been fucking and drinking his way through three kingdoms.

And the bard looked as if he was doing a good job of adding a fourth one. He was more than just a little tipsy, sitting rather than standing on the stage. An agonised look passed over his face when he saw Geralt. He wanted to rush over and pull him into a hug, but then Jaskier started singing and the witcher was just frozen in place. It was the most heart-wrenching ballad yet. It took him only about three lines to realise who it was about. 'Fuck,' he thought.

All his instincts told him to flee. He wasn't prepared for this. He couldn't do this. But Jaskier had seen him already. No getting out of it now.

So, he shouldered his way through the crowd Jaskier always attracted and tried to hide in some secluded corner of the tavern. It took incredibly long for the bard to finally finish his set, and even then he made no attempt to seek Geralt out. Instead, he languidly leaned onto the bar, flirting with the barmaid behind it.

He barely suppressed a growl. 'Fine,' he thought and got up to confront his mistakes. He slammed his tankard down next to Jaskier, scaring the barmaid off in the process. "Jaskier," he greeted him.

"Oh, great," he sneered in response. "There goes my bed for the night."

"Hmm," he answered and ducked his head. "I'm sorry."

"What, for chasing off my newest conquest? I fucking hope you are!"

"No, Jaskier," he answered honenstly. "I'm sorry for what I said to you."

"Hmph, you need to do a lot better than that," he said and reached over the bar for a bottle of strong-smelling liquor. He poured himself a glass and knocked it back. Without pause he continued: "Because you know what? I'm fucking angry, Geralt."

"Do we have to do this here?" he hissed. They were attracting glares. Never a good thing for a witcher.

"No," Jaskier admitted and stood up. Bottle in hand he walked towards the stairs. "You're paying for the room."

"Sure," he grumbled and flagged down the innkeep. By the time he had managed to acquire a key, Jaskier had already dragged himself upstairs and drained a good portion of the bottle.

Geralt snorted and unlocked the door, but didn't comment on it. "What I've been trying to say-" he began, and was promptly interrupted:

"How about trying to shut up?" Jaskier hissed and kicked the door shut. "How about trying to listen to me after twenty fucking years?!"

"Jaskier, what I said-"

"This isn't about what you said! Don't you understand? What you said is only the tip of the figurative dragon mountain. I thought you actually liked me! I thought we were friends."

'Shit,' Geralt thought and ground his teeth. "Hmm."

Jaskier laughed hoarsely. "Oh, great. That same old story again. Why am I even bothering...?" He drank straight from the bottle, swaying a bit on his feet.

"You're drunk," he tried to say as neutrally as possible.

"And you're shutting me out again," he countered. Neither of them were wrong.

"I don't know what to say," Geralt tried.

Jaskier wasn't impressed: "Evidently." He made no attempt to follow that up with anything.

After a few moments of silence, Geralt realised that it was his turn to try and fix this mess with words of all things. "I can't sleep," he tried. "Not since you left."

"Poor you," Jaskier mocked cruelly. "I can't either."

"I can't sleep without you," he tried again. "It's cold. I'm dreaming. And when I wake up I'm alone. Roach is a horrible conversationalist and my camps are too big."

Jaskier put the bottle down slowly, gaping at him.

"I walked the path for decades without you and it was fine. It's not anymore. I can't do it any longer. And I guess... I guess I was scared." The words weren't any less intimidating once he'd finally said them. "You said I talk in my sleep?"

"You do."

"I don't. It's been beaten out of me in Kaer Morhen."

"So?"

He closed his eyes as tightly as he could. It was stupid, he knew. Childish, even. But he couldn't look at Jaskier for this. "So, I meant it. Every word of it."

No reaction.

"Please, Jaskier, I need you to forgive me."

"Give me one reason and I just might." He could hear him come closer. "Say it," he demanded. "Look me in the eye and say it."

It took him every ounce of his discipline to open his eyes and look at Jaskier, barely two feet away from him. "I love you," he said quietly.

"Louder."

"I love you. I've loved you for years, and it scared me, so I couldn't let you know. Witchers aren't supposed to be scared, and that scared me even more, and-"

The rest of his words was silenced by Jaskier's lips. The bard practically leapt at him, snaking his arms around his neck and pulling him close. "You're an idiot," he said when he pulled away. "A fool, a nitwit, an absolute imbecile. The stupidest man alive!"

"I am," he agreed, looping his arms around his waist.

"Why, oh why, do I have to love you of all people?"

"You love me?"

He laughed a teary laugh. "I do, I do. For years and years. How didn't you notice?"

"Because I'm a fool," Geralt said and kissed him again. He just couldn't resist.

"I'm still angry," Jaskier informed him.

"That's alright. But you don't hate me?"

"Far from it."

"And when I wake up on the morrow, you'll be there?"

"Yes," Jaskier promised with another kiss.

Geralt couldn't help but grin. "Good."

#my writing #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #prompt fill #post-mountaion fic #angst with a happy ending #i'm sorry if the ending's a bit wonky #heart-of-a-rose #look i've got an ask

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vulpes-incendium · 4 years

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I made this long time ago, but I thought it's a good time to share it here for @aphasiaweek!

I chose 《Hoi Sam☆Nice Guy》over 《Maji Kandou☆Hong Kong Night》because there are more stuff about HK in it. So let's see if the lyrics are accurate in a native's point of view!

Spoiler alert: it's very accurate

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Hoi Sam = Happy (in Cantonese)

Guy = sounds like street in Cantonese (gaai1)

“Yooooo, so since there’s a song… while I’m at it I kinda put some effort into my costume… I think I’ve got like, serious swag Pardon? You can’t see me…for real? Woah!!!!”

FASHION: yes, HKers love to be trendy, always want to be on top trends! Trends come and go very very quickly, it's seriously really hard to follow trends in HK.

MIXING ENGLISH WITH CANTONESE: yup, we do that a lot, we almost couldn't finish a sentence without English, some words just sound "uncool" in Chinese lol (it’s always about being cool in HK lol), but we don't really say “pardon” unless we are speaking English

Sup-sup-sup-sup-sup-super mobile (snap snap) It’s my hobby to take pics and collect them (I guess) Not gonna lie, everyone’s got a mobile phone, penetration rate (highest in the world) Yeah! If you’re going sightseeing then Nathan Road! (Fuu~!)

TAKING PICS WITH SMARTPHONE: Aph HK loves taking (embarrassing) photos (of China lol), but in real life HKers do love taking pictures, or videos too (it's dangerous if you misbehave, people would film you and post on Youtube or Facebook)

MOBILE PHONE PENETRATION RATE: I couldn't find data for HK, but I think I heard on average, each HKer carries at least 2 cellphones! So this could be true!

NATHAN ROAD: It's the longest street in HK and there's so many things, good food, good shopping places and yup sightseeing! (A lot of our streets are named after the Governors during the colonial time, this street is named after Sir Matthew Nathan for example)

Welcome this makes me kinda happy (Check it out!) Learned this from England - tea in the afternoon (high tea) Welcome, this is kinda fun (Shake it up!) Yum cha, Hong Kong milk tea, cha-cha Nice culture (frivolous)!

AFTERNOON TEA: Yes, it's still a tradition for us to have tea time, we call it 3:15, workplaces would have tea breaks, restaurants do tea time menu during 2-5pm, it's really cool and cheap! We usually drink HK milk tea (evolved from British milk tea) during tea time and there are so many delicious snacks like French toast, pineapple bun and of course egg tart!

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YUM CHA: It literally means “drink tea”, but Chinese tea this time. It's a tradition for us to go Yum Cha every Sunday with our family! Dim sum is part of Yum Cha! We just eat and catch up with each others for HOURS!

Oh. My. God. “LOHAS LOHAS” Oh. My. Mind. “Gonna take a pic~” Take away “Is this delivery service for real?” Like, seriously, even if it’s way out of the way, no problem man

LOHAS: I didn't know what this refers to for a long time, I finally found the answer. This refers to LOHAS park, an eco-friendly residential area newly built few years ago. But what's so special about it? Is it famous in Japan?!

DELIVERY SERVICE: Well delivery service in Asia are generally good anyway, but I guess we are good and fast?! (but I think Korea too!)

Super Feeling unlucky? If it’s getting to you, go villain hitting at Ngo Keng Kiu A medium will perform an exorcism, and hit a paper doll with a shoe For fortune telling, go draw fortune sticks, or get a divine answer by throwing moon blocks at the temples… at Wong Tai Sin, light the fire of your incense! If you’re feeling tired, maybe you can give Feng Shui a try or something? A spiritual site in Lantau Island The Wisdom Path…is super Awesome for meditation, but there aren’t any toilets, so watch out Gold fish, bring me luck! (In money!)

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NGO KENG KIU: Generally HKers are not THAT superstitious, but the culture still lives within us. I have never known anyone who did the villain hitting, but it's still quite a thing (and a great tourist spot). It's mainly for people who backstab you (we call them "small people" siu yan), but I guess evil spirit too.

WONG TAI SIN: Again, it's more for older generation who are still a bit superstitious. People like to go to Wong Tai Sin Temple during Lunar New Year to wish for luck in the new year. It's still quite popular!

See I told you we have natural landscape (source)

WISDOM PATH: I've never been there lol. Apparently it's a "path lined with 38 wooden monuments inscribed with the Heart Sutra prayer". In general, HK has a lot of nice hiking trail, our landscape is actually amazing, it's just we focus too much on making money...

P-Pe-Pe-Pearl of the Orient is me! (I guess?) Got completely wasted? Ended up in a dress (totes sick) Not gonna lie, population density is highest in the world in Ap Lei Chau Yeah! If you’re going sightseeing then Hong Kong Island! (Yeah~!!)

PEARL OF THE ORIENT: It's the nickname of HK, the Philippines is Pearl of the Orient SEAS

(Ending up in a dress refers to this comic, thanks parallel France!)

POPULATION DENSITY: Yea, that's what we are famous for really, small place lots of people (HK is a very hilly city, surprise, surprise), we have the most expensive estate price in the world 🤦‍♀️, not sure if Ap Lei Chau is particularly population-densed, but the whole HK is like that!

Good luck in everything this makes me kinda happy (Check it out!) Learned this from England - how to be a gentleman (ladies first) I wish you good health, this is kinda fun (Shake it up!) Typhoon, Kung Fu, WA-TAHH Supplements, Chinese herbal medicine (healthy~!)

LUCK: The newer generations are less superstitious now, but luck is still kind of important for us? It's more like a tradition than a belief, we do them just in case (like Feng Shui).

TYPHOON: As a coastal city, we get typhoons a lot in summer, but they are not as strong in comparison to the Philippines or Indonesia.

KUNG FU: We are known for our Kung Fu films, as the actors are all trained martial artists! Bruce Lee (WA-TAH was his catchphrase), Jackie Chan and Donnie Yen are great examples! Because of the wars and Cultural Revolution, many people fled China to HK, resulting the influx of high quality martial artists (eg. Ip Man).

HERBAL MEDICINE: As western as we are, we still believe in Chinese Medicine, but more in a preventative way.

Oh. My. God. “Air conditioning in full blast!” Oh. My. Mind. “That’s not eco-friendly…” Oh well “The air will become cleaner, I think?” Seriously a Mistake, but, no problem man

STRONG AIR-CONDITIONING: This line had me laugh die (Imao in Cantonese)! It's so accurate! You can catch a cold from the airconditioning in HK! And that's why we always carry a jacket even in summer! It's not very eco-friendly and our government is trying resolve that.

AIR POLLUTION: Yes we have smog (smoke + fog), it is becoming quite the problem really. The root of the problem is that Shenzhen, the city next to HK, is developing rapidly and a lot of factories moved there, so the smoke is blown towards HK (we don't really have many factories left, it's too expensive here).

Awesome Riding on a roofless bus, cruising through the neon streets If you want to, like, go shopping… at Ladies Market There are stalls with cute stuff, souvenirs (lots and lots of them) Talk the price down! Haggling is what really counts For some more miscellaneous and deep junk, more for the adult and thrilling The street where mystery thickens… Temple Street Would you like to try some cheap eats at the street stalls? Absolutely delicious! Asian food is the best!

NEON LIGHTS: You've all seen the stereotypical HK streets full of neon lights, but it's actually decreasing, because there's no newcomers to the industry (the lights are handmade).

LADIES MARKET: You can find so many stuff there indeed, for a cheap price! Branded stuff, fake stuff (we don't make them but yea you can find a lot of them), food and goldfish. Yes, there's a goldfish street. Why? I dunno, for luck I guess?!

TEMPLE STREET: Similar to ladies market, it's also great for shopping. This street is also known for (illegal) prostitution and triad, but it's still safe to visit, never in my life have I encountered any of them.

“Yoooooo, Mister, so I kinda sang this song, but seriously, rapping is surprisingly, like, tough?” “It’s also a shame that no one can see what I’m wearing, I’ve got serious swag, y'know.” “Phew… I kinda want to go home already… I mean, the peach buns are gonna be sold out.” “…can we go now?” “…can’t we go yet?” “Haah…” “Okay fine, like, whatever.”

One, two, three!*

PEACH BUN: They are actually eaten on birthdays, for longevity (that's what peach represents in Chinese culture).

*this line was spoken in Mandarin in the song, which would be the only critism I'd give. Yes a lot of people may understand Mandarin, but Cantonese and English are preferred and they are our official languages. One, two, three in Cantonese would be "yaat, yi, sam".

Oh. My. God. “The rent is really expensive…” Oh. My. Mind. “It’s not easy…” Why oh why? “It’s like, the highest in the world” We have serious inflation, but, whatever

EXPENSIVE RENT: We are the most expensive in the world, thanks to the high population density (and foreign buyers 😶), it's really not easy to afford a flat in HK, that’s why most HKers live with their parents until they get married (it’s also a cultural thing).

INFLATION: Stuff are still relatively cheap, but they are getting more expensive really quickly, mainly because of the rent of the shops.

Super they’re so adorable it hurts, the perfect balance of black and white pandas that bring you happiness… we sell them, sort of So fluffy and cute, such big round eyes The kinda? Make you Happy! Uh-huh

PANDAS: We actually only have 2 pandas here like everyone else, in Ocean Park (it's like an amusement park and zoo). They finally successfully mated recently, probably because of Corona shutdown lol!

There are over 100 of them, Tin Hau Temple, so super Before I head there, I seriously wanna eat… mango pudding! So many gods, like, one in every street Pay homage at the temple, light the fire of your incense!

TEMPLES: We still have the temples built before the colonial time! Hopefully, we are able to keep them too...

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MANGO PUDDING: It's so good yes! Our dessert culture is just the best seriously! We have so many restaurants just for desserts! They are great places to hang out with friends after work or school!

The air conditioning at its max, the fire burning strong A steaming hot pot made with a carefully chosen soup base If you want to detox, have a Chinese herbal hot pot Absolutely delicious! Asian food is the best! Riding on a roofless bus, cruising through the neon streets If you want to, like, go shopping… at Ladies Market There are stalls with cute stuff, souvenirs, lots and lots of them Talk the price down! Haggling is what really counts Absolutely delicious! Asian food is the best! Every minute Happy☆Nice Town (Guy)

HOT POT: We love it! We basically love when a lot of people sit together, talking, sharing food (like Yum Cha), it's the harmony and atmosphere that we like so much! And yes, there are a lot of different soup base you can choose from!

BARGAINING: Yes do it, especially if you're in places like Ladies' Market and you're a foreigner, they do price things up if you don't look like a local.

***

Shout out to Takagi Motoki, the voice actor of HK, his voice fits the character perfectly! (and please get a new va for the new season please funimation) And how can he speak so fast?!

#aphasiaweek #APH Hong Kong #hws hong kong #hetalia #not biased at all but hk has one of the best character songs pls give him new songs in the new season himapapa #sorry im not following the prompts that well i dont have much time to make stuff #science poetry coming up i promise #Hong Kong culture

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kvella · 4 years

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Port in the Storm - Prologue (Josephine x Cullen)

A mead fueled tryst brings the Inquisition’s Ambassador and Commander together one night, but responsibility and miscommunication keeps them apart. When they’re assigned to build a memorial for Haven, will they find their way through the chaos or say turn away from each other forever?

Read on ao3

Prologue

Josephine and Cullen call a stalemate and have a mead-fueled encounter.

To find the Ambassador and the Commander at the Haven tavern was unusual, if not unheard of.

On this particular evening, the advisors had an unexpectedly light workload on their hands, the Herald being off in the Hinterlands to track down a potential Warden ally. Setting aside that they were what Josephine graciously liked to call “very different people” on a good day, she and Cullen had spent the better part of the afternoon bickering over the weathered maps of the war table. As the first dinner bell rang, Leliana excused herself, tired of the stubbornness and sniping and impatient to return to her work.

Embracing the rare opportunity for a free night, they declared a stalemate on the appropriate way to acquire resources - “just for the evening,” she jested - and found themselves taking in the ambiance of the local pub. It must have been something about the candle light or the dulcet melody of the flute, but as the sky fell dark, their words grew unmistakably flirtatious . One glass led to another, led to one glass of sweet honeyed mead too many and a surprisingly handsy, stumbling stroll back to the Chantry.

It’s hard to say who initiated, who pulled whom behind the Chargers’ tent but suddenly they were intertwined with arms around necks and hips, mouths dancing across each other’s cheeks and lips and chins. They parted, chuckling at the absurdity of the moment and the warmth of the mead bright and high in their cheeks and the crisp, snowy air nipping at their skin.

Pulling open the heavy Chantry door, Cullen grabbed Josephine’s hand boldly, but the gentleness with which he whispered “Is this okay?” melted her heart. Breathlessly, she whispered “yes” and he led her down the hall, a half-step ahead of her. Both were exhilarated by the openness with which they cavorted, regardless of the scarcity of people around at this time of night. They practically scampered down the hall to the bedroom in the far back, a strange youthful giddiness between them, so unlike either’s usual demeanor.

Cullen went first, opening the door to the room and heading inside. As she stepped in, Josephine caught a glance of Vivienne’s narrowed eye down the hall, felt the distinctive sense of judgement dripping from her eyes, high, mighty, and filing this sight away for her personal chess game. Deciding to ignore the opinions of others for once in her life, she raised her chin defiantly and followed him inside. No one else was around the Chantry at the late hour, and their good spirits and libidinous energy bounced off the stone walls.

She scanned the sparse room quickly, though she knew they were alone. To the left, Cassandra’s bed lay untouched. The Seeker had been away for weeks. A rather large tome sat on the table next to a candle that was burnt so low it may never light again. In the back, Josephine’s lived-in bed - made, but not fussily so, not when there are so many more important things to do than have a crisply folded sheet. Her lute sat dusty near her nightstand, an admittedly frivolous item to bring to a war, despite best intentions of putting her past as a bard towards morale and raised spirits. And on the right, Cullen’s bed, a Templar bed if she’d ever seen one. Regulation corners and all.

Cullen pulled her to him by the waist, kissed her hard, seemed to find a renewed sense of purpose in the privacy of their room. The fur of his mantle tickled against her neck. “Do you know,” he asked between fervent kisses, “I have thought about this every day since you moved into this room?”

A good, pious Chantry boy thinking about kissing her with all the passion of a sinner under this holy roof, every damn day. The thought made her knees weak. She moaned lightly against his lips. Filled with confidence, she walked him back against his bed, toppling him down atop the tautly pulled linens.

Desire rested deep in her belly, a sensation she hadn’t entertained for anyone in years. He fiddled with the satin buttons at her throat, jangling her heavy necklace back and forth against her collarbones. She leaned back, trying to give him space to work, fingers making waves through his carefully combed hair. Satisfied with the amount of flesh he’d exposed, he rose to her neck - the feeling of his smooth lips and stubble brushing against her throat was divine and she closed her eyes to savor it. Quickly, a brief flash in the theater of her mind: Vivienne and her haughty sideways glance. The Herald and Cassandra recruiting forces off in the Hinterlands. The bright emerald gashes tearing apart the sky.

A pang of panic struck her heart. Lifting her bejeweled hands to gently cup his face, she kissed him deeply, slowly. His stubble was rough against the pads of her fingers. She wanted to go further, wanted to be closer and closer, truly couldn’t believe she was about to say this until she felt the unfortunate words tumble out of her mouth like marbles.

“We should stop.”

He ceased instantly, removed his hands from her as if commanded by the Maker himself. “Okay.” His amber eyes were smoky, lips swollen and pink and thoroughly kissed. He was so beautiful that, for a brief moment, she reconsidered. "Why?" He asked, regaining composure.

She crawled off of him, settled on her knees at the foot of his bed. A cloud of disappointment floating around her hung head. He propped himself up on his elbows, catching his breath, and let his head roll back in thought, probably some frustration. She couldn’t fault him for that - her body ached for him, but her mind knew how these things tend to go. The mead was in her cheeks, hot and hazy, and his hands had mussed soft wisps of hair around her face, a golden halo illuminated by the fire.

Softly, carefully, she said, “It is not that I do not want this. In fact, I have thought of it...quite often. But…” She paused, dropped her voice to a whisper as if she was not certain that what she was about to say was a good choice. “I do not want just one night. And to become entangled right now with so much at stake...it is a fool’s errand, is it not?”

He sat up, eyes shut tight and brow furrowed in deliberation. She tried not to look at him, hope churning in her gut that he’d quell her fears or try to convince her otherwise or at least tell her he felt the same. Instead he responded, “You are right.”

It was quiet for a moment, only the crackling of the fire and the tension of disappointment to sooth them as they contemplated the many boundaries they had crossed together. Josephine felt a fire stirring in her veins. This man who rarely backs down, let alone to her, had simply caved to her concern without a single protestation.

She couldn’t help herself, and picked the fight anyway. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say? When do you ever agree with me?” It came out sharper than intended, but she didn’t try to soften it with more words.

Abruptly, Cullen stood, walked over to the small table near the fireplace. The sound of water pouring into glasses was nearly ear-splitting in the silence of their choice. “I don’t know how I am meant to share a bedroom with you when I know what you feel like against me, Josie,” he said remorsefully, offering her the glass. Eyes wide, she took it with bated breath. ”But I know that you’re right - were we to continue, I am certain I would have no choice but to stay entangled.”

He leaned back against the fireplace, casually, and sipped the water. She stared at him, a mad kind of anticipation in her eyes. The words hit her ears, white hot. They sounded to her like something of a promise.

________________________________________________________________

I’ve been working on this story since July this year and it’s been so fun! I know this is not the most popular couple (join me in rarepair hell), but I have a soft spot for the Ambassador/General opposites attract dynamic. This story is up to chapter 8 on ao3, but figured I’d post it on here too! I’ve been a Bioware/DA fan since the beginning, but I’m new to tumblr (how did I make it to 27 without having a tumblr??) and want to make friends lol Hope you enjoy! :)

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #josephine x cullen #josephine montilyet #cullen rutherford #dragon age fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #fanfic #ust #cullephine #rarepair hell #opposites attract

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makeste · 5 years

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BnHA Chapter 242: SANTA IS REAL

Previously on BnHA: We said farewell to the League of Pliff and were finally reunited with the kids of U.A., an institution which I would just like to point out is so diametrical to the League that they literally took the polar opposite route when choosing their name, and focused only on the acronym. I’m 100% sure U.A. doesn’t even stand for anything. Anyway, so Bakugou and Todoroki went on whirlwind press tour following their ch 219 antics, and the resulting interviews were so disastrous that Aizawa decided to bring in Mt. Lady to give the whole class a crash course in PR 101. Meanwhile All Might scoured Ancestry.com for info on the past users of OFA, and Rat Principal announced that U.A. was going to resume its internship program. This is great news for Deku, who’s been taking his sweet time mastering Blackwhip. Like, we’re not even talking baby steps here so much as little tiny flea steps. Kid’s going to need all the help he can get.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi targets all of my weak points at once. The My OT3 Academia arc gets off to an incredible, award-winning start with a Christmas party and the announcement of Internships 2: This Time, it’s Compulsory. Highlights include: (1) Kaminari and Mina forcing Bakugou to accept the spirit of Christmas into his heart and soul, (2) Iida rocking a Santa beard, (3) Eri holding a giant sword, (4) Bakugou reminiscing about his internship with Best MIA Jeanist, specifically the part where Jeanist was all “A HERO’S NAME IS REALLY IMPORTANT AND SYMBOLIC AND MEANINGFUL, SO YOU NEED TO THINK VERY CAREFULLY ABOUT IT” and oh my fucking god, and lastly (5) Todoroki inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at the Endeavor Hero Agency (known for its famous business slogan: “Got Plot?”). It’s like I wished on seventeen different falling stars and they all came true at once. I still can’t even fucking process this. kfkdslgk.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

I just got like three excited-seeming asks (I haven’t actually read them yet) in rapidfire succession less than an hour ago, and my dashboard is now filling up with filtered “bnha spoilers” posts, so I took this as a sign that I should read the new chapter ASAP. oh gosh

(ETA:

(1) SAMEEEEEE, and (2) YEEEEEEEEP. listen I’m not religious you guys, but I said “oh my god” so much while reading this chapter that I wouldn’t be surprised if he or she finally answers and is like, “YES!? WHAT IS IT???”)

what new state-of-the-art tomfoolery will our intrepid heroes engage in this week. what novel hijinks will they commence. what frivolous escapades will they embark on this lovely Friday morn?

HOMGAAAHHHHHH

THE TITLE IS LITERALLY MY FEELINGS RN. MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS TO ME. YES GOD I LOVE IT. I’LL TAKE A DOZEN

okay. so today, September 6th, is officially Christmas. you heard the man and who am I to argue

so we’re opening with a teacher’s meeting! probably about the internships. or the fact that they’re all screwed. I don’t really know what their priorities are nowadays

okay yeah it’s about the internships. also Rat Principal is nested in Aizawa’s scarf for absolutely no reason, and Aizawa is disgruntled about it. heh. tomfoolery already and it’s only the first panel

oh shit, Nezu’s saying it’s now a government requirement. I got so surprised I actually forgot to call him RP

because ain’t nothing safer than hero internships. if the Basement arc taught us nothing else. it’s that

that was sarcasm in case that’s not coming across. this is clearly a baffling decision. but what are government committees for if not for making baffling decisions I guess

and now Midnight is coming to the same conclusion I was starting to wonder at

can someone please tell me what the PSC’s goals actually are, then? is this not the same group that recently changed the rules of the provisional license exam so that an even smaller percentage of people would pass? so do you want more heroes or fewer? which is it?

how do they cope with it? does anyone even have any idea?? it seems to me like they’re just throwing them to the wolves. we have this problem that we have absolutely no idea what to do about, oh I know, let’s toss a bunch of inexperienced kids at it. and hope that none of them gets murdered I guess

anyway so The Sheriff is speculating that the League must have been involved in the Deika situation, and he’s wondering why the PSC is trying so hard to keep it on the dl

oh yeah. friendly reminder that the PSC, thanks to Hawks, probably knows exactly how powerful Tomura and the League have recently become. so they know full well how shark-infested the waters are, and they’re making it mandatory for the kids to all take swimming lessons. nice

lol back when I was brainstorming ideas for future arcs, I seriously thought Horikoshi would have to go out of his way to come up with excuses for the kids to have future encounters with the League, because the school was so concerned with their safety that they wouldn’t allow them to leave the grounds except on rare occasions. well I sure got that one wrong. though to be fair, for once it isn’t U.A. that’s doing the child endangering here

(ETA: and actually, regardless of how insane it is, I do appreciate that when shit inevitably hits the fan again, at least it won’t be U.A.’s fault this time. I’d like to be able to continue rooting for them, and that can be difficult when they keep doing reckless things that needlessly put children in danger. at least this time they’re not the ones driving the Stupid Bus to Bad Decision School.)

a message to who? the League?? “we’re not scared of you”?? did they seriously not think of all the numerous ways this could backfire?

oh shit Aizawa even went and said the d-word

well there you have it. the government is drafting teenagers to risk their lives dealing with a crisis they won’t out-and-out admit they’re actually having. on today’s episode of “Oh Hero Society, You’ve Got Problems”

anyway so RP is making the admittedly good point that “we’re fucked and everyone is in terrible danger” is hardly a new state of affairs for them these days, and so they’re all moving on. okay then. good talk. lol. gonna need my damn Christmas fluff after all of that

and also RP is mentioning some other mysterious new program to Aizawa too. I wonder what that could be

(ETA: oh yeah I almost forgot about this. thoughts??)

and now we’re cutting to “several days later” oh my god. it’s really happening. I need a moment here, I’m not even ready. gotta get all my Christmas headcanons lined up here. Satou baking cookies. Kaminari and Sero running around arm in arm singing “JINGLE BELLS, ALL MIGHT SMELLS” over and over at the top of their lungs until Bakugou screams at them to shut up. Mineta debating anyone who will listen over the merits of the song Baby It’s Cold Outside. the naturally Christmas-themed Todoroki savoring this, his time to shine

oh shit, we’re still with the fucking Rat Principal. for fuck’s sake

-- ooh but are they talking about the traitor??

will this put an end to the “Horikoshi forgot about it” rumors? several people have mentioned this to me here and there (sorry to everyone whose asks I still haven’t answered), but as far as I know, this was part of a fake interview with Horikoshi that was unfortunately circulated around as though it was the real deal. sometimes people are not cool and think it’s fun to take advantage of communities that are enthusiastic and trusting! always fact-check what you read on the internet just to be safe guys

anyway

so there definitely is one, then. got it

so the traitor is definitely a student in the hero class, then. got it

sob. I got an ask about the whole Kaminari traitor theory earlier this week, so I’m in the process of doing up a whole long post about that. but the cliff’s notes version is, it’s not him. it’s Hagakure. but I will actually go into detail in the post. it’s been a while since I’ve discussed the traitor thing in depth anyway

so RP is asking All Might if he’s coming back today, and All Might is immediately all “WHY, DID SOMETHING HAPPEN TO MY CHILD, OH GOD IS HE OKAY” which, omg. so much love for this man

and RP is like “geez relax” and OH MY GOD

[slaps on a paperboy cap and screeches at All Might in a bad cockney accent] TODAY, SIR?? WHY, IT’S CHRISTMAS DAY

OH MY GOD

I SPOT A GRINCH UP THERE AT THE TOP. SOMEONE NEEDS TO BE VISITED BY THREE GHOSTS FROM VARIOUS DIFFERENT TIME PERIODS

LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE CHILD (GREMLINS ASIDE) IS WEARING A SANTA CLAUS OUTFIT. DID U.A. JUST GIVE THESE OUT FOR FREE

AND IN THE TOP RIGHT NEXT TO SHOUJI, SATOU’S COOKIES! JUST AS THE PROPHECY FORETOLD

I SEE THEY HAVE THE REQUISITE KFC PLATTERS LIKE GOOD JAPANESE CITIZENS. WE SHOULD ADOPT THIS TRADITION HERE IN THE WEST TOO TBH

and last but not least, there are only nineteen children in this panel. it took me forever to figure out who was missing, but pretty sure it’s Iida. Iida where are you. clearly the traitor. certainly not off visiting his brother and the rest of his family, what kind of gullible fool do you take me for

looool

I love when the characters start to become self-aware that they’re the main characters in a story and that plot things keep happening to them at an unreasonable rate

oh my god they really are wearing the suits. it wasn’t just a title page gimmick like I half-wondered

ANSWER THE QUESTION, JIROU. INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW. do we even know where she did her first internship?? I suddenly desperately want to learn more about this

(ETA: she interned with Death Arms, the traffic cone-looking guy who notably chewed Deku out for trying to save Kacchan’s life in chapter one. Jirou my hope for you is that you find someone better this time around!)

also Tsuyu is observing that Momo doesn’t have a chair, and I honest-to-god was trying to count how much seating there was in the previous page. it seems to me like the common room got a lot bigger. it keeps adjusting to their needs like the room of requirement in Harry Potter

also does anyone else wish that Jirou would move her cup off of the armrest. IT’S GOING TO SPILL ffff :/ this is who I am at parties

oh shit wait, that was Iida with the beard?? I honestly thought that was Satou. well then Satou is the traitor. -- NOBODY TOUCH THOSE COOKIES!!

anyway so he’s all “well Deku not to bring up the elephant in the room but YOUR PREVIOUS MENTOR DIED A HORRIBLE DEATH so what’s your plan huh”

oh sweet god

listen, no offense to Centipeder, he seems like a really nice guy, but if I never see his repulsive face again I will count myself lucky

OH FOR FUCK’S

PLEASE GET RID OF IT IT IS CHRISTMAS!!! here I am trying to have a nice time and!!

god. and like, I feel bad, it’s not his fault he is A GIANT BUG and he has like, fucking mandibles and shit! but I can’t help the fact that my skin is trying to crawl off my body right now, and god but I can barely look at this panel long enough to read the dialogue sob why

(ETA: and now that I’ve forced myself to read it again, this doesn’t even make any sense lol. “we have too much work and not enough help, so we have to pass on you coming back to help us out. ...wait.”)

I want Iida to like. pat his lap and tell Deku in a big booming voice to cheer up and come sit and tell him what he wants for Christmas. not in a weird way you guys, come on. but just, he looks so forlorn. do you want Santa to bring you some cozy All Might socks

or wait, didn’t he want a PS Vita according to that one omake thing. what the fuck Deku. someone get this kid a Switch

anyway so Deku says that participation is mandatory this time, so the school will handle assignments if the kids aren’t able to find someone

meanwhile Kacchan is in the background accusing Mina of stalking him. I think she is trying to get him to wear his Santa outfit. doin’ god’s work

OH SHIT YOU GUYS I CLICKED TO THE NEXT PAGE, AND THIS. THIS IS MY CHRISTMAS OMFG

HORIKOSHI YOU DID GET MY LIST! BAKUGOU BEING TROLLED BY HIS SNEAKY DETERMINED FRIENDS AND MANHANDLED INTO A RIDICULOUS GETUP WHILST ANGSTING ABOUT BEST JEANIST BEING MISSING, YESSSSSS. IT’S SO SPECIFIC, I THOUGHT, “SURELY HE WON’T ACTUALLY DO IT,” BUT SANTA IS REAL, EVERYONE

HFMLSDKMGLKLKL!!!!!LKL:DSF

RED ALERT RED FUCKING ALERT PEOPLE!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHH HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

“MERRY CHRISTMAS MAKESTE HERE’S A WHOLE FUCKING CHAPTER ABOUT KACCHAN’S FUCKING HERO NAME COMPLETE WITH A BEST JEANIST META ON THE TOPIC” mother fucker I need to start reading these chapters with a goddamn life alert and a defibrillator on standby

“your name represents your wish.” ladies and gentlemen, introducing the new number one hero... Number One Hero!

heh. just kidding. “what do you want to become?” this, though. this right fucking here is why I’ve been dying to know what name he’ll actually choose. because it does reflect exactly what Jeanist is saying. whichever name he chooses will be an insight into who he is, and who he is trying to be

and this meta is making me rethink all my chapter 223 feels, and tbh now I’m back to thinking that it’s not going to be Ground Zero, unless he comes up with a cool reason for why that name ties in to the image of the person he wants to be (because right now, that particular name is tied more to the past than to the future). but oh my god, if he does choose the name Kacchan I am going to spontaneously combust. I will fucking do it. I will fucking die from being a dramatic excited bitch

(ETA: because. listen. there is one person who has always looked up to him in spite of everything and has always seen his potential. “in the end, in my mind, you’re the image of victory.” this, to me, is the meaning that the name “Kacchan” would have if he did choose it. it would symbolize him choosing to be his best self.)

don’t mind me I’m just stanning this child so fucking hard it hurts

(ETA: oh hey, and more feels on the reread because it looks like the reason he’s having this flashback is because he was planning to go back to Jeanist’s agency to do his real internship, and to show him how much he’s grown. but then The Thing happened. Hawks I just want to talk why won’t you answer my calls.)

Mina and Kaminari are the MVPs of this fucking chapter and I owe them my life omggggg. THEY’RE HERE TO SAVE CHRISTMAS

what are you thinking about there, Best Friend?

are you thinking about your daddy angst. penny for your thoughts

(ETA: “how can I cheer up my new best friend? I know, I’ll make him a lucrative job offer.” actually that’s a good way to cheer up just about anyone in this day and age, Shouto.)

okay, is there some sort of perverted context to Christmas that I’m totally missing here?? or is Mineta just really into the holiday spirit?

I feel like I missed something. eh

anyway Mr. Traitor himself is walking out now and HE’S BROUGHT THE CHRISTMAS GOOSE! or turkey! but goose sounded funnier

of all the things to be shocked about?? “SATOU CAN COOK!?!” like um yes hello you’ve been living with this guy for four months already? like the only thing more ridiculous than this would be, “TOKOYAMI IS A BIRD!?!”

(ETA: like I know baking and cooking are two different things, but in a manga they’re the same thing. fact.)

now someone is making a dramatic entrance! IS IT ERI I WILL DIE!!!! BRING IT

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I HEREBY SWEAR FEALTY TO THIS PANEL OF AN ADORABLY AND FESTIVELY DRESSED ERI MIXING UP HOLIDAYS WHILE DADZAWA PATIENTLY CORRECTS HER. I WILL PROTECT IT WITH MY LIFE. SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS CHAPTER SO THAT I CAN GO DO IT SOME MORE AGAIN, OVER AND OVER AND OVER

Ochako is me

(ETA: DEMONS OUT! DEMONS IN!! THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT!! YOU DO THE HOOOOOOOOKEY POKEY.)

and Kiri is out here asking the real questions, but sadly Aizawa says Mirio is spending Christmas with his own class. WELL FINE. I HOPE HE’S EXPERIENCING THE FOMO OF A LIFETIME. HOW DARE HE HAVE OTHER FRIENDS whatever I’m over it

sobbbbb

WELL HOW MANY FUCKING HOLIDAYS ARE THERE!? CAN SOMEONE HELP A GIRL OUT OR WHAT

oh my god I’m just going to reblog every single Dadzawa panel and none of you can stop me go on and try!!

impatiently waiting for fanart of Aizawa tucking Eri in and reading her A Visit from St. Nicholas. get on it, fandom

ohhhhhhhhh my goddddddd

I know it’s not a Christmas song, but I am this close to cranking up “I Gotta Feeling” by the fucking Black Eyed Peas. ya feel

do you guys see him sitting there next to Dadzawa. he finally gave in. Satou is feeding him chicken. his friends will not abandon him to be on the naughty list. motherfucker that’s it. I’m fucking doing it. fill up my cup. mazel tov

lol I don’t even want to click to any more pages because they’re all so happy and it won’t fucking last. :( noooo

good little boys and girls. noshing on that chicken. Kacchan continuing to be stalked by the Ghost of Christmas Friendship. Tokoyami what even is that. lol and is this their weird way of distributing random gifts. did Sero buy Jirou a scarf. did Deku buy Ochako a freaking All Might plush keychain!? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING AND WHY DOES ERI HAVE IT NOW AND WHY IS SHE MAKING THIS FACE

-- holy fuck, IT’S A SWORD. oh my god. THEY GAVE THE SEVEN YEAR OLD A FREAKING BUSTER SWORD AND SHE IS FEELING IT YESSSS THIS CHAPTER TRULY IS ALL MY DREAMS COME TRUE

“dad can I keep it.” Aizawa: [not even opening his eyes, all bundled up in his oogie boogie suit] “sure”

so now we’re cutting to afterwards and everyone’s cleaning up and Deku’s using his freakish super strength to lift heavy things impressively while Bakugou continues to stomp around with his hands shoved into his pockets waiting for someone to finally tell him he can go back upstairs

OH???

motherfucker. are you going to invite them to come intern with you and your dad!!?!?? I know I was all set on Bakugou interning with Miruko just last week, but I TELL YOU WHAT BITCHES, I’M FUCKING FLEXIBLE LIKE THAT

OH SHIT YOU GUYS!!!!

TODOROKI ARE YOU PLAYING THE OT3 SONG BECAUSE HONEY YOU KNOW THAT’S MY JAM, BRO

OH FUCKING SHIT YESSSSS

BAKUGOU DO YOU WANT TO INTERN WITH YOUR TWO BEST FRIENDS, EXCUSE ME, HATED ENEMIES. DEKU DO YOU WANT TO INTERN WITH YOUR TWO BEST FRIENDS. AND THE NUMBER ONE. WHO JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE BEST FRIENDS WITH THE NUMBER TWO. WHO JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE BEST FRIENDS WITH TODOROKI “I DIDN’T HAVE A FLASHBACK IN THE LAST ARC BECAUSE WE WERE SAVING IT FOR THIS ONE!” TOUYA? THAT’S RIGHT, IT’S BEST FRIENDS ALL THE WAY DOWN. OH MY GOD

it’s like Horikoshi made a long and detailed list of all of his regrets about the previous internship arc, and then said, “fuck it. do-over”

you guys. I’m all out of cans. we only have can’ts and cannots. I cannot

Christmas fluff. Dadzawa. Bakugou hero name meta. hints that the traitor plot will soon be relevant again. and the motherfucking OT3 of OT3s, MY SONS, MY THREE RESPLENDENT OFFSPRINGS, interning together at the motherfucking Endeavor Hero Agency because Todoroki is the sweetest most considerate angel, and because KNOCK KNOCK, IT’S ME THE PLOT, I’VE COME FOR YOU AGAIN AT LONG LAST AND I VOW TO NEVER LEAVE YOU ALONE AGAIN FROM THIS MOMENT ON

shit, y’all. I don’t know if it’s possible for an arc to become my favorite motherfucking arc only two chapters in, but damned if this sunnuvabitch ain’t trying

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 242 #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #eri (bnha)#class 1-a #best jeanist #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I gotta feelin'#that tonight's gonna be a good night #let's do it let's do it let's do it let's do it #JUMP OUT THAT SOFA #LET'S KICK IT OFF #lol you guys I am in a *good* freaking mood I tell you what

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amethystlogan · 4 years

Text

It’s More Than Just a Squishmallow

Alternatively - Patton’s Excuse to Buy All of the Squishmallows

Summary - Patton is adorable and gifts his famILY squishmallows. Fluff and comfort ensues.

Warnings - minor anxiety from Virgil towards the end

No romantic ships, a bunch of platonic fluff

Human AU

Patton loves many things. His roommates-turned friends-turned family top the list, but are quickly followed by a variety of small enjoyments, such as cookies, movie nights, onesie pajamas, all manner of fluffy animals, and many, many fandoms. But also on the list is a thing that Patton loves, but can quickly become problematic - plush toys and stuffed animals. The problem occurs because when Patton loves something, he can easily go a little... overboard, to say the least. Usually it’s easy enough for the others to reign him back in, especially when it comes to his collecting such things. After all. the six of them sharing an apartment leaves limited space for him to accumulate too many things. The general rule established was as long as Patton could keep his collections confined to his space, it was fine.

However, all reasoning went out the window when Patton discovered squishmallows. The others knew things could quickly get out of hand the moment he came home from a run to the store with the soft, squishy, cat-shaped blob clutched in his arms, his face practically glowing with happiness and excitement. Not even Logan, who would normally be strict about sticking to shopping lists and not splurging on such unnecessary purchases outside of special occasions, had the heart to chastise him.

The cat squishmallow found its home on Patton’s bed, and the others hoped that would be the end of it. But then Patton came home with another. And another. Almost every time he was sent on a shopping trip by himself, he came back with an embarrassed blush and proclamations of, “But look how cute he is!” and “It’s just one more, Logan. What’s the harm?”

But now, Patton faced a dilemma as he stood in front of his bed, dinosaur squishmallow in his arms, with no place left to set it down. With his new squishmallows, combined with the other stuffed animals he’d already had, there was barely enough room for him to sleep, let alone continue his new collection. He pouted, looking down and the dinosaur. He needed to figure out something! If there wasn’t room in his space, he needed to justify using the shared space in the apartment. And he knew he could probably puppy-dog face his way into keeping this one, but it would likely be the last.

Patton sighed, sitting carefully on the edge of his bed, dinosaur balanced carefully on his lap. As he sat, smiling softly at this small, cuddly friend, he began to think of his real friends. Of their smiles, their hugs, their moments of happiness and almost child-like behavior that they seemed to save for Patton’s famILY movie nights or pajamas only Saturdays.

From across the room, lying on his bed with his sketchbook in his lap, doodling with Disney songs playing in his earbuds, Roman glanced up and could practically see the light bulb go off in Patton’s head. Roman paused his music and pulled out an earbud. “You good, Padre? For a moment you looked like Logan when he finally solved that twelve sided Rubix cube.”

Patton looked up, his eyes shining with excitement. “I’m good, Ro! Hey, can I ask your opinion real quick?” he asked, bouncing off his bed over to Roman’s side of their room, dinosaur in hand. “Absolutely!” he replied, setting his sketchbook aside, “Always happy to contribute in a moment of inspiration.” “Do you think Janus would like this?” Patton asked, holding up the dinosaur. “Run out of room to keep them yourself?” asked Roman, watching as a penguin squishmallow slowly slid off of Patton’s bed and onto the floor. Patton followed his gaze and shrugged impishly. “....Maybe?” He gave a small smile, and Roman couldn’t help but smile back. He turned back to the dinosaur Patton held. “Hm, I think Janus would love him. He likes all sorts of reptiles, and due to the general blobbish shape of these, he kind of resembles those snakes he is so fond of. This dino could be the perfect companion! Especially for those all-nighters he spends with his nose in his law textbooks.” Patton giggled, “yeah, maybe he’s pillow-y enough to convince him to actually go to bed, before Logan goes after him with his laminated sleep schedule again.” “Excellent idea. I think he’d really appreciate it, Patt.” “Thanks, kiddo! I’ll give it to him when he gets home.”

Janus had accepted the dinosaur with dignified gratitude, trying to express that he liked it without seeming overly excited, as he attempted to maintain his smooth indifference without hurting Patton’s feelings. But anyone could see that the dinosaur had immediately taken residence, metaphorically in Janus’ heart as a prized possession, and literally at his desk as his new study buddy. It was to no one’s surprise when Janus threatened to physically fite Remus after he almost spilled ink on the plush after bumping into Janus’ desk when leaving their room with his arms full of various messy art supplies. Janus could pretend sentimental affection for the toy due to it being a gift from Patton, but it was obvious he was soft for the dinosaur.

Thanks to the ink incident, it was clear to Patton which squishmallow to get Remus next time he was out. He practically squealed when patton handed him the purple, squishy octopus. “He won’t mind if you get ink on him, ‘cause he could use it for camouflage!” Patton explained, as Remus immediately hugged the toy to his chest, regardless of the ink and paint all over his shirt. “I love him!” Remus shrieked, pulling Patton into an equally crushing hug, before running off to his room, proclaiming, “Me and Inky are gonna plunge the depths of the ocean for inspiration! Anglerfish ink prints dead ahead!”

Logan shook his head fondly, failing to hide his smile at the interaction. “I suppose I should refrain from informing Remus that and octopus of such bright coloration would likely not be capable of accompanying him to such depths due to lack of sunlight?” “Oh, let him have his fun.” Patton said, flopping onto the couch next to Logan. “They’re adorable squishy blobs of animals, it doesn’t have to be realistic.” “I suppose there is some truth to such a sentiment, although I’m sure we are both aware he will begin to speak to it as though it is conscious.” “I know, but that’s part of the fun, too.” Logan gave a small smile to indicate understanding, if lack of agreement, before returning to his book.

And so,to cater to Logan’s clearly more scientific and practical preferences, patton got him a unicorn, but in key chain size. He figured Logan would be able to look past any scientific inaccuracies with an animal that wasn’t even real. And they were all aware of Logan’s fondness for the fantastical, as evidenced by his own onesie. Logan had given Patton a look over the top of his glasses rim when presented with it, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He had long ago given up the pretense of being all seriousness all of the time, and found to his surprise that the others respected him no less for it. However, he did choose to only indulge in such frivolity on occasion, such as his onesie only making an appearance at their monthly movie marathons. He did appreciate the mythology and folklore behind such creatures, but was grateful for the smaller, more inconspicuous size of the plush Patton had selected. He chose to attach it to the strap of his shoulder bag for library trips, but carefully tucked the unicorn into the bag. He would never deny sentimentality, but would prefer not to have it on display all of the time. And if Patton caught sight of him gently squeezing the small squishmallow with a fond expression after a particularly stressful day, he chose to make no mention of it.

Roman had honestly been a little trickier than Patton had expected. He’d been standing in that toy aisle for way to long, but it was a difficult choice. At a glance, his eye was caught by a lion squishmallow, which had seemed perfect for their own Gryffindor prince. But sitting behind the lion was a soft, light grey and white owl that drew Patton to reconsider, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain or describe just yet. But the longer he stood there looking at it, the more convinced he was that the little owl was just meant for Roman, even if he couldn’t say why.

It became clear when he got home, and found Roman in their room, almost in tears. He was fighting a major bout of artist’s block, and couldn’t seem to put pen to paper. No idea seemed good enough, bold enough. The white expanse of empty paper intimidated him, and he couldn’t find the courage or impulse that usually drove him through such moments. Even if he could make something, the mere thought of posting it anywhere, it scared him.

But then Patton came in, pulled the sketchbook from his lap, and handed him that little owl squishmallow before pulling him into a hug. As Roman accepted the embrace, and began to calm down, he looked at that owl, soft and comforting, and he found that moment of reprieve that the others could only associate with Patton. Roman knew that he could always come back to his work later, with a fresh mind and new motivation. For now, he had Patton, and when Patton couldn’t be there, he had that little owl.

When Harry Potter faced hardships, he didn’t need the Gryffindor lion to bolster his courage, but a moment with his friends, or with the loyal owl that was there for him until the end. Hedwig the Second, as Patton affectionately called her, became Roman’s go-to for artist’s block, stress, sickness, or anything where he just needed that moment to regroup.

Virgil knew it was coming, he just didn’t know when. What had started as a simple excuse to buy more squishmallows had grown into a mission of sorts, and Virgil knew it was only a matter of days before he was gifted a squishmallow of his own. He didn’t entirely know what to expect, but hoped it would be a bat, or black cat, or something of the sort that would at least fit his aesthetic. His half of the room he shared with Logan was an emo’s dream after all. He figured Patton knew him well enough to suit the plush to the black and purple scheme he had going. But after Logan’s unicorn, he really couldn’t guess what Patton would do.

The very last thing he expected was the pastel blue dragon squishmallow that might have been as big as Patton himself that Virgil found sitting on his bed when he got home from class. But he couldn’t find it in him to care about his “rep” for the moment, as he was about two steps from an anxiety attack. He’d woken up that morning on edge, it was just going to be one of those days. Class had been awful, he hadn’t understood the lecture, and his fellow students had decided to be louder than usual leaving the lecture hall, only making him more uneasy and overwhelmed. Then he’d nearly gotten run over in the crosswalk coming into the apartment building. It didn’t help that it was one of those rare afternoons when everyone else was out, either in class, at work, or at rehearsal for Roman.

So Virgil stood in the doorway of his room, in an empty apartment, shaking, trying to fight back tears, and found himself facing the light, fuzzy blob of comfort that he knew had come from Patton. Virgil choked out a laugh, wiping at his eyes as he toed off his shoes and climbed into his bed, cuddling the dragon close. He breathed deeply, and slowly. In, and out. He could almost hear what Patton would be saying. He was okay. Logan could help him sort out his class notes. The car hadn’t really been that close outside, the sudden honking was just jarring. He was okay. In, and out. He was home, he was safe, it was quiet. The others would be home soon. He fell asleep shortly after calming down, with thoughts of his friends in his mind and the soft, soothing crinkles of the dragons wings and scales under his fingers.

It may have looked quite out of place in his room, but to Virgil, it didn’t matter. That dragon was his new protection from overrunning thoughts when the others couldn’t be there. And when Patton got home that night, he found himself tackled in hugs, and the dragon found a permanent spot right on Virgil’s bed.

Suffice to say, the others never again thought it a problem that Patton like to collect a few too many of the things he loved, because his famILY was still at the top of his list.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #squishmallows #patton is an adorable bean

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testifytime · 4 years

Note

hi ardent!!! im here to be government kin assigned. you pretty much know most things about me by now, but i really love music and art! i also really like sports n science!! so, uh, a pretty wide variety of interests ghjklgh. i try hard to stay kind and optimistic, and i really care about my friends!!! ty for doin these, they seem so fun!!

-Cracks my knuckles- You didn’t specify so I’ll do all.

- A Pokemon team/type theme (+ fun facts abt your team!)

You’re a fairy-type user! Your main pokemon is Sylveon, though you also have a lil Togepi, Florges, Alcremie, Marill, and Ribombee!

Fun facts!

Your Sylveon evolved without you meaning it to! You were going to evolve it into a Vaporeon, but you befriended it so quickly that it evolved before you got the water stone!

Your Togepi likes to ride around in a little backpack you made specifically for it. It’s a huge sweetie, but it also a bit of a baby; it knows Fake Tears, so it often cries whenever it wants some attention.

Your Florges and Ribombee help you in your garden! Ribombee makes sure that all of the flowers are pollinated, and likes to help with watering them! Florges helped you plant all the flowers and how to place them beautifully, and now keeps a close eye on them for any signs of stress or illness - which, luckily, have never happened!

Your Alcremie was a gift from someone! It adores you with its whole heart, which can sometimes be a little messy; more than once it’s tried to jump into your arms, and you’ve ended up covered in sticky cream. Its sweet is a Heart, and its flavour is Mint!

Your Marill is a little different from the others. It’s a lot shyer, and tends to cling to your legs a little more. But it’s really good with kids!! It loves to go swimming with you in fresh water lakes.

- Bloodcaste/lusus/chumhandle as if you were a Homestuck troll (+lore)

You’re a bronzeblood with a Paradise Flycatcher lusus! Your chumhandle is amiableGaitey.

You live in a small house in a meadow far away from society, living a fairly simple - albeit hard - life. There’s a stream that you get most of your water from, and a clothesline that you dry your clothes from, and as soon as the sun sets, you lose all power. It’s... a bit of a pain, honestly, but you kind of like it! You eat the berries and fruits that grow in the orchard and bushes that surround your home, and sometimes you go foraging for nuts and mushrooms, but only if your lusus gives the go-ahead. You’re pretty sure a bunch of the plants near your home are deadly. You might have even made poison once? It’s kind of weird.

You spend a lot of your time outside, going for walks and picking flowers to put into scrapbooks. Sometimes you’ll take your camera with you, and take pics of all the cool plants that you have around your home! It’s fun to show your friends later, when they’re all online, and it encourages you to go out every day just a little further to see what new things you can find. You’ve even turned it into a bit of a game! So far, you’ve managed to follow your river all the way down to the cliff that it drops from, have climbed up it, and have gone racing through the woods above. The exercise is great! You love it maybe more than anything else, and you couldn’t imagine giving it up for anything in the world.

When you’re at home, you like to spend most of your time talking to your friends online. Your husktop is solar-powered, so you settle down in a nice sunny spot just outside your home and curl up against a big beancushion for hours until that itch to get going hits you again. Sometimes you draw - they’ve gotten you into drawing more and more frivolous things, things for you, things you might not have indulged in if they hadn’t encouraged you to - and sometimes you play games. Most of the time it’s just talking and having fun, though, and you love it! You’re pretty sure you’re all going to be friends for a very long time. You hope so, anyway.

Your lusus is pretty small. They’re kind of fae-like, if you’re honest, and they often warn you against going in mushroom circles or going too deep into the woods. They’re a supersticious little thing, really! But they make a great navigator when you’re out and about, and they warn you of oncoming trouble pretty quick, so you don’t mind having to do weird things like hop on the stepping stones of a river after saying a little thank you.

- Symbol/guardian/chumhandle as if you were a Homestuck kid (+lore)

Your symbol is a styalised bass clef that looks like a heart, and you live with your auntie! Your chumhandle is appreciativeGuitarist.

You and your auntie live in a tiny cottage at the foot of a mountain surrounded on all sides by a field of wildflowers. The kitchen doubles as a dining room, and your livingroom really only fits a small, old-fashioned tv and a sofa that’s a little too worn for wear at this point. But you have your own room! And you’ve got all your things in there, including your bike, which is kind of a pain to get in and out all the time, but you make it work. You have a small desk for your drawingpad and laptop, and a tiny bed you just about fit on, and it’s maybe a little small? But it’s also filled to the brim with clothes you love and stuffed toys you’ve collected over the years, so it’s pretty good, all things considered. Homey, more than anything.

You love to draw! You’ve really improved in the last few years, you think, and you’re getting more confident about posting your art again - so you draw, and draw, and you think maybe you’re starting to see what your friends have been telling you! You like to draw fantasy things, of yourself in different scenarios or just spending time with your friends, all of which you do on your drawing pad. It’s a pretty neat little thing to have, admittedly, though you don’t always get to save your art in the process unless you send it to yourself and save it on your phone - but it means that you’re more inclined to send your art to your friends, and you’re pretty sure they love seeing what you’ve made.

You love to go out and about, and your little space in nature gives you the perfect place to release all that pent up energy. There’s planty of beaten paths for you to follow, and a whole moutain for you to trek up if you want! You’ve gotten lost a few times, but that’s okay; the wifi signal is weirdly good up there, and it’s easy enough to figure out a way back down again before nightfall. It makes for a pretty good bike track, too, with plenty of dips and bumps that make your stomach flip whenever you go over them too fast.

You have a bunch of friends online! Actually, you have a bunch of people who just kind of flock to you for guidance and leadership, too? It’s a little weird, and it can be a bit intimidating, but you really like being able to help people, even if it means overwhelming yourself sometimes to be good at it. Your friends make it worth it, anyway. They make you laugh and make you feel better when you’re down - which doesn’t happen often, but sometimes it’s hard to keep smiling, and they remind you that that’s okay - and they make such wonderful things with you!! You love being able to talk to them, love spending time with them, and even love getting teased by them (which, you tease them back, of course).

You like to sit out in the field of flowers just as the sun starts to set, and the sky slowly turns from blue to orange. The wind rustles the flowers around you and curls your hair around your cheeks, and sometimes, you wonder if maybe you’re not alone.

- A FNAF animatronic design and name

You’re a sweet, pink and white boardercollie with lots of hearts in your design! Your eartips are curled over, your pupils and nose heart-shaped, and you have cute little toebeans on each paw. Your chest fur, paws, belly, and the underside of your tail are white, along with your muzzle and a stripe up to your forehead, but every other part of you is a beautiful pastel pink!

You’re designed to be a friend to any child who seems upset or let out at a party, to make them feel special and to bring them back into the fun or even just to spend the whole day with them!

You have a designated name - Collie - but you like to let the kids decide what to name you, too. It’s fun! And it helps to make them feel like you’re a Special Friend, so you often get trusted with their secrets - like if another kid is a bully, or if they’re maybe not too happy at home. You do your best to make their time at the pizzaria as fun and happy as possible to make up for all the bad things they have to deal with - and honestly, they love going to Freddy’s just to see you! It’s their favourite place in the whole wide world because they know you’re there.

(You also tend to send information back to the owners about anything worrying you’ve heard while out on the floor. This has saved a lot of kids. They’ve often come back in smiling brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and they haven’t needed you after that, but that’s okay. You know that’s for the best.)

- A BNHA Quirk and hero title

Your quirk is Uplift, which allows you to raise the spirits of any person who hears your voice! It doesn’t matter how down they are or how villainous they may be; as soon as they hear you, their hearts are filled with brightness and warmth. The downside to your quirk, unfortunately, is that it can be draining on you: sometimes you Uplift others so much, that your own mood starts to drop, and you start to get emotionally tired. When this happens, you just need a little company, warmth, and love to get you back to normal. Cuddlepuddles with blankets and hot chocolate ARE common after training.

Your hero title is The Inspiring Hero: Restoraise! You’re more of a support hero than a daylight one, and not very high on the charts, but that’s not what matters to you. What matters is keeping people calm and full of hope whenever you’re on the scene - be that upset civillains, trapped victims, or even hopeless villains. You refuse to let anyone down if there’s even a slim chance that everyone can be saved or redeemed!

#ukeealyptus #long post//#heartless prince rambles

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smuttymess · 4 years

Text

bts astro soulmate reading | for binta

sign: aries sun | capricorn moon | taurus rising

lover: park jimin | soulmate: kim seokjin

This reading is for Binta, a Minimoni double bias with a terrible case of Jungkook fever which she’ll likely never recover from. I really hope to be able to meet you post-COVID/general world mayhem. Please enjoy <3

Intelligent, strong-willed, perceptive - is there anything you can’t do when you put your mind to it, dear Aries? You are a force to be reckoned with, and there is no doubt that you make an impact in all areas of your life from work, friendships, and romance. It is this fire that draws people to you, and it is pretty common to find you in the center of attention in your social world, attracting friends and lovers alike. With your rising in Taurus, you are known to be practical, valuing a slow and steady approach to life that others see and appreciate. This level-headedness when paired with your ambition, means that you are trustworthy and able to see things through to completion. Valuing constancy in your life, you are able to achieve a nice balance given your ability to stick to your guns in all matters and rarely get distracted with frivolity. While you have your insecurities like anyone else, you are able to push these aside and focus on what is in front of you, which is the entire world at your feet. Your signature Aries assertiveness and Taurus practicality are nicely complimented by your Capricorn moon, which hides a softer, more sensual side which you know how to use wisely. It is not that you are disingenuous, but rather your gentler demeanor is somewhat of an persona that you can - and do - use to your advantage. Your most powerful self exists as a strong flame simmering beneath a calm, kind exterior that is both magnetic and enigmatic to those in your orbit.

You, miss, are an opportunist. Not that this is a bad thing - its just that you know exactly what steps to take to get what you want. When you hear from a friend that Park Jimin will be in your city play at a secret show, you know at once that he is what you want. After all, you’ve been keeping tabs on him on social media and so why not shoot your shot? After all, despite your occasional self-doubt, you have an extremely high success rate. Equally alluring but seemingly aloof, it is not surprising when Jimin locks eyes with you from the stage during a particularly sexy section of the show. As with every time he is on stage, Jimin is is full Libra seduction mode, his fingers gently gripping the mic stand while fully immersed in the song. Occasionally lifting his eyes above the mic to stare at you before flashing a sly smile, you are fully aware that he is toying with you. Will you play?

In the game of flirtation, you are notoriously hard-to-get and he enjoys the chase. It is not until almost an hour after he converses with the numbers of fans that he saunters over to you, immediately disarming you with his signature irresistible charm. Your outer self wants to take things slowly, but your inner world wants to fuck him right then and there as he undresses you with his eyes. In talking to him, however, you sense an emotional depth to him that is hidden under the sultry stage persona - he is sweet, and even a little shy when met with your powerful gaze. It is this sweetness that you explore together in the hours, and eventually months, that follow this initial meeting.

Jimin, the unattainable Libra celebrity that can have literally anyone he wants, is essentially putty in your hands as you start hooking up. His ability to lean back and happily let you take the ropes further enhancing the spectrum of your Aries confidence, allowing you to really shine. You two are polar opposite signs, with you drawn to his expressive, romantic and optimistic approach to life (thanks to Jupiter in Sagittarius) and he to your passionate, determined and fiery nature. While anyone could stimulate him physically, you turn him on with mental challenges and intellect. He is mystified by you and wants to do nothing more than please you. Sex with Jimin is light, energetic, fun - a lovely escape from the intensity of your daily life. There is no such thing as a quickie with him, as he wants to enjoy every moment with you, drawing out every bit of your orgasm before licking it all up. Jimin’s teasing nature does not end on stage, and it is unlikely you will ever meet someone else more skilled with foreplay than him. His goal is to make you shed your walls and make you entirely his, if only for the moment, before engulfing you in his arms and holding you close.

Ultimately, Jimin’s popularity and flirtatious tendencies along with your equally chaotic schedules prove to be too much for your romantic relationship to withstand as you are both prone to extreme jealousy. He adores you when he is with you, but cannot give you the full commitment that your sensitive heart desires (though you may never admit it.) You find that your small arguments turn to larger ones more regularly, leaving you both unsettled and uncertain - with his Gemini moon much more sensitive to moods and irritability. When he is away, you find you spend more time worrying about his faithfulness than other areas of life, which you cannot afford to do when there is so much you want to explore and accomplish. However painful, it becomes necessary for you two to part ways - though not before fucking several more times.

It is likely that after the end of this unexpected relationship with Jimin that you seek solace in work projects, throwing yourself fully into your career. You enjoy environments where there are clear paths to growth, and the workplace is one space in which you truly excel, with an ability to work hard, accomplish tasks, and foster beneficial relationships along the way. This innate combination of intelligence and perceptiveness is what makes you one of the most successful signs of the zodiac.

This natural charisma is exactly what draws Kim Seokjin to you when you are both attending a company fundraising event at which he is a keynote speaker. Immediately upon laying eyes on him, you are drawn to his energy and charm (his Mercury in Scorpio in the spotlight.) The man knows how to work a room, in a genuine, strategic and precise manner that deeply appeals to your driven, passionate nature. Also, yes, he’s fucking gorgeous and you can’t help but imagine how he would look between your thighs. In that moment, you decide you must meet him and - in true Aries form - place yourself perfectly in his direct line of vision, effectively making sure he has no choice but to see you as he finishes shaking hands with benefactors and all the important executives. You can feel your hear race as his eyes move steadily from your eyes down the curves highlighted by your chosen dress for the evening.

Aries and Sagittarius are notoriously known for being fickle in terms of your relationships as you can quickly become bored, despite your deep desire for commitment. Soon into the dating process you realize your fiery signs may have found their match - keeping each other toes with your ability to juggle and hop between your vast interests and knowledge of everything from philosophy to travel to food, which you enjoy to the fullest. You appreciate his strength, confidence and his insatiable lust for life, which allows this less inhibited and spontaneous side of you to flourish as well, despite your initial stubbornness in wanting to follow the standard rules of dating and adhere to your rational "good girl” persona that you’ve built up over the years.

Jin takes your whole slow-and-steady, protocol-oriented mask and wholeheartedly rejects it, promptly throwing you into a whirlwind romance. Jin’s ethos is that life is meant to be experienced, savored and devoured - and he does that quite well. You’re pleasantly surprised to find yourself, on the third date, sky high in the passenger seat of a helicopter with Jin’s lips on your neck and fingers against your clit. Jin’s uninhibited spontaneity naturally extends into your sex life, which is intense, dynamic and fiery (of course). You two have no shortage of joint business events, on the way home from which you tear each others clothes off in a frenzy while he plants kisses all over your body. There is nothing that he enjoys more than hearing you moan his name into his ear, and no he does not care if it is in the back of his valet or against the floor-to-ceiling windows of whatever hotel he’s booked for the two of you that night. Jin’s range is extensive, moving from dominating and in control in the literal driver’s seat to completely submissive to your touch as your lips wrap around his cock while on your knees in front of the fireplace. While not for public eyes whatsoever, he believes sex, like everything else, is meant to be enjoyed in all ways, in all forms, and all places, and he makes you feel secure in exploring this life accordingly with him by your side - or behind, or on top.

Ultimately, as a couple, you are able to achieve great things while as co-pilots. You are a great match matched in that both of you need to be moving at all times, either towards adventure or a new goal, and require independence on a deeper, more profound level than any other sign combo in the zodiac. You approach each others’ chaotic schedules with complete understanding, knowing that soon enough you’ll be met with a black car ready to take you to the jet to meet him at whatever location he has (spontaneously!) chosen on the map and for a proper reunion. Your Taurus rising can make you prone to stubbornness, preferring to stick to your guns over taking too much risk, and Jin is able to get your out of your own way and remind you of how amazing you are - even when you are feeling less than perfect. While he can be overly blunt and brash in his approach to communication, with patience you are able to access his more romantic, serious, passionate nature of his Venus in Capricorn which gives your emotional Capricorn the tenderness and care that it craves. You see through each others’ confident exteriors into your more sensitive sides, which you are able to reveal only to those you really trust. It is important for you to live authentically and without restriction, and in each other you find someone that is equally imperfect but also constantly strives for excellence in their everyday lives. Together, you build a harmonious life with equal parts adventure, friendship, spontaneity, comfort, and unbreakable trust.

#bts #bts astrology #astrology #horoscope #horoscope reading #bts fic #fiction #park jimin #kim seokjin

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stillness-in-green · 6 years

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Seven Stars Tea Blends

Ever since I saw that the Gundam Café in Akihabara was selling official, licensed teas with the Bauduin and Fareed family crests on them, I knew I was going to write this post someday.

The calls below (other than the two canonical ones) are based on a sort of ambiguous blend of what I think a café might pick (On the Menu), what the characters would think of their family tea in a world with more surviving tea culture than I suspect the IBO world actually has (Tea Culture), and stray facts that influenced my picks or that make fun parallels (Supplementary Notes). I’m tempted to go back in and make bonus picks for Ein, Isurugi, and Julietta, but for now, I’ll try to keep on-theme.

Bauduin Family Blend: Earl Grey.

On the Menu: Bergamont's rich floral scent belies the strength of the black tea brew with its piquant citrus twist; in the same way, the Bauduin family's comfortable affluence masks their intense dedication and trained skill. Tea Culture: Gaelio is surprisingly fond of tea for a soldier, likely due in no small part to his sister's tireless efforts. His palate is not terribly refined, but he can certainly taste when a brew has turned bitter and isn't afraid to say so. Takes his tea with a lot of milk. Gallus leaves the milk but takes a dash of sugar, and likes his teas brewed strong. Almiria has weaned herself off of both milk and sugar when drinking with company, wanting to seem grown-up; though she secretly does prefer a splash of milk added, she nevertheless has the most refined palate of her family. Supplementary Notes: Earl Grey has a storied history that, despite all its associations with high-class luxury, has some outrageously fake elements to it. I enjoy the way this echoes how very prepared Gaelio and Almiria both are to flush their family fortunes straight down the drain the moment Earth taboos or paternal authority conflict with their personal desires. Those kids look like nobles, but deep down, they are far more attuned to their own emotions and goals than they are advancing the family's standing in the peerage.

Fareed Family Blend: Darjeeling.

On the Menu: While the labeling of Darjeeling is strictly regulated and monitored, the tea itself is a mild, soft black with faint floral notes. This juxtaposition echoes both the Fareed family's meticulous intelligence and their talent for the delicate art of social maneuvering. Tea Culture: McGillis has done enough reading, and is attentive enough to social cues, that he can fake it, particularly for Almiria, but his palate is actually quite poor. He can take or leave tea as a drink--he actually prefers coffee--but weird tea classism is exactly the kind of frivolous luxury he loathes on principle. Iznario, on the other hand, is quite discerning. Supplementary Notes: A fun fact about Darjeeling: While the bulk of black tea in India is cultivated from the local variety of the Camellia sinensis plant, assamica, Darjeeling derives from the Chinese type, sinensis. Literally--early Darjeeling tea was grown from seeds smuggled in from forbidden provinces in China, because the East India Trading Company was getting desperate. I am delighted by the way this parallels Iznario's propensity to more or less steal children to advance his own ends--of course we all know how he came by McGillis, but Carta and Almiria's ties to the Fareed family echo the methodology as well.

Issue Family Blend: Matcha.

On the Menu: The Issue family puts a great deal of stock in tradition and ceremony. Our matcha--rich, astringent, and demanding--is a perfect match. Tea Culture: Carta, with her strict personality, would be startlingly skilled with the whole matcha process, though it would have taxed her patience mightily as a young child. She would be smug bordering on intolerable that she drinks it straight, unlike that thin, oversweetened nonsense Gaelio favors. Supplementary Notes: Probably the least likely in-universe call, as Teiwaz and its associated members are the ones hanging onto most of the Japanese culture in the setting, rather than Gjallarhorn, with its European trappings. However, I can't resist drawing the parallel between Carta's fondness for (even reliance on) established battle strategies, her kitsune tails and kabuki makeup, and matcha, that most rigorously, performatively Japanese of teas. If I didn't go with matcha, I probably would have gone with a good quality white, but the delicacy and subtlety of white teas didn't really seem like Carta's bag, and we don't have any other family members to compare to.

Kujan Family Blend: Masala Chai.

On the Menu: An Assam-based blend, this bold black tea is warmed by cloves, ginger and nutmeg. It reflects the Kujan family's reputation for producing leaders whose strength and easy charisma win the unflagging loyalty of their followers. Sweeten liberally with milk and cinnamon for the young or young at heart! Tea Culture: Iok's father, a man of such legendary prowess and charm that he had a generation of soldiers prepared to die for his children, probably drank this mostly straight, adding milk to sweeten it a bit when he was sharing it with his men. Iok, who has the taste palate of a spoiled nine-year-old, likes it so sweet that the family cook has secretly taken to leaving the Assam out entirely. Supplementary Notes: Iok is actually the person in the cast most likely to know his way around a Japanese tea ceremony, if his talent for kanji calligraphy is anything to go by, but chai's particularities--a widely social drink, and one whose production varies so hugely recipe to recipe that some of them don't even bother with tea leaves at all--make it an easy call for someone like Iok, whose charisma and passion make it easy to miss that someone left all the authenticity in his father's cup. Iok is also the most "exotic"-looking of the Gjallarhorn cast, and chai is exotic enough that it's spread overseas under a name that in its own language just means "tea," making it a likely call from our hypothetical Gundam café looking to find something that's foreign-sounding but not so obscure that it's unmarketable.

Elion Family Blend: Russian Caravan.

On the Menu: This green/black tea blend--oolong, keemun, and lapsang souchong--is famed for its characteristically smoky flavor. Bold and complex by turns, but with a mellow finish, this nuanced brew matches perfectly to the Elion family's dauntless yet urbane heir. Tea Culture: Rustal, like McGillis, has little investment in Tea Culture, though in his case it's more because he already knows what he likes and has little interest in exploring other flavors as a weird rich person hobby. Exasperatingly set in his ways, he makes no secret of the fact that he thinks his family brew is a superior tea, and is happy to lean into the star-faring romance of its characteristic flavor blend (see below). Supplementary Notes: The smoke flavor today comes from the lapsang souchong, which is dried over pine smoke, but folklorically, it was thought to have been imparted to the tea by the smoke of campfires on the long trek through Mongolia between China and Russia. As the admiral of the Arianrhod fleet, Rustal is the member of the Gjallarhorn cast who does the most traveling in the black depths of space, and so the imagery of strong-flavored brews to push back against the cold felt like a natural match. Additionally, while Rustal isn't canonically of any particular nationality, he does share his ash blond hair shade with many an anime Russian, which also influenced this match.

Baklazan Family Blend: Silver Needle.

On the Menu: This most rarified of white teas features a profoundly delicate flavor with just a whisper of natural sweetness. The skill, care and discernment involved in its production speak to the Baklazan family head's light touch and keen insight, honed over his many long years on the Council of the Seven Stars. Tea Culture: Lord Baklazan sticks almost completely to white and green teas; even oolong is a bit over-strong for his palate. He's blind, and so finds quite enough to savor in the milder, more nuanced cups of the traditional Eastern teas. He's a bit busy to mind his family's tea brand on his own, but there's an underling on the family payroll whose only and entire job description is "tea master," who Nemo is relieved to say he's unlikely to outlive. Supplementary Notes: We know precious little about Nemo Baklazan, other than his very particular design--even his being blind is blatant supposition on my part--but someone in that council room after McGillis's coup looked around at a room full of dudes in full riot gear and decided, "Despite the implications of those worryingly large guns, McGillis actually can't force us to side with him." Between Nemo, Gallus, and Lord Falk, I'm willing to bet it was Nemo, suggesting a prudent, cautious, but ultimately insightful man. I also wanted to have a proper white on this list somewhere, and he definitely looks the type to have the most refined tastes in Chinese teas. Silver Needle is, not coincidentally, also the most expensive white tea, which feels appropriate for one of the oldest and most influential men in the solar system.

Falk Family Blend: English Breakfast.

On the Menu: A blend of Ceylon and Assam teas with an added earthy Kenyan, brewed to stand up to all the milk or sugar you could add as an indispensable part of the classic full breakfast. Our stoutest black, this tea reflects the Falk family's pragmatism and resolve in the face of the changing times. Tea Culture: Probably the member of the Seven Stars with the greatest active interest in where his household is procuring its tea, Lord Falk always has time to offer his opinion on a cup--Almiria found him to be quite the educational resource, on the few occasions they ever spoke. He has a generous, adventurous palate, though he feels most at home with traditional blacks. Supplementary Notes: Oh my god, you guys, we know basically nothing about Elek Falk--he doesn't even have Lord Baklazan's distinct design! He has a big medallion of the sort that you sometimes see on Anime Popes, but there's no indication that organized religion figures into Gjallarhorn's affairs, and even if it does, the dude who responds, "That's just a fairy tale!" to claims of Agnika's soul animating Bael does not strike me as a likely spiritual leader. He seems interested in getting to the bottom of mysteries--he's one of the voices pressing for continued investigation into Galan Mossa after the Silent War--but those are literally all of the characterization cues we get for him. I don't want to sit here saying, "I picked English Breakfast because he looks like a guy who never skips a good full breakfast, if you get my drift, hohoho," but, like, if the shoe fits...

#mobile suit gundam: iron-blooded orphans #gundam ibo #g tekketsu #mcgillis fareed #gaelio bauduin #almiria bauduin #gallus bauduin #carta issue #iok kujan #rustal elion #seven stars #my writing #ibo meta #please take this nonsense

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cent-noah · 6 years

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Sunset Blvd [Noah Centineo] - Prologue

Summary: After Y/N being her irresponsible self for one more time, her father has had enough of it and teaches her a lesson on responsibilities and living her life free of any worries.

Now, with a job in her hands, she has to learn, the hard way, how to act like a grown-up. And, on top of everything, how to deal with the know-it-all employee that thinks she’s better off living in her princess bubble.

Word count: 1,998

Warnings: none

A/N: ah wow. This is weird. I’m here posting the prologue without having anything for the next chapter but oh well... I want to know how you guys will react to this story. So please please please, let me know what you think of it, ok? Also, if you wanna be added to the tag list, just send me an ask! Here goes nothing

The music could still be heard from the foggy sidewalk, people hurrying past the girl leaned against the wall as she waited for the car to pick her up, not a spare glance towards her. Her low cut tight black dress hugged her frame perfectly, a sight that would draw anyone’s attention, but not that night, as she did her best to hide in the shadows provided by the tall buildings, her eyes glued to the light up screen in her hands, eyeliner smeared in her right eye, the lipstick she had put on no longer tinting red her once luscious lips. She was tired, done with the night and there was nothing in the world that could make her change her mind, not after everything that had happened so far.

For starters, she had just come back from a trip to Santorini, her head still function as if she was still there, her whole body screaming at her for the jetlag she was putting herself through. Then, she remembered it was Halloween and she had promised she would make an appearance in the party she was just leaving from. Something about the owner of the nightclub begging her to be there in the first place, apparently she was someone in that city.

It wasn’t that Y/N Y/L/N was someone overly known throughout the whole world, but she had connections; she had met celebrities left and right through her life, she was associated with some of the most influential people at the moment and that’s what everyone liked; she had an entourage following her, making sure she was in the right place at the right time, making sure she was having the most comfortable time, making sure that she was having fun. She was someone to be seen with.

Being that said, it wouldn’t make sense as to why she didn’t want to be seen, even if looking like someone who had just walked out of a night out, but when you live for your looks and what your whole life represents for the others, you don’t want to be seen walking out of anywhere looking like she did. The truth was, she hadn’t had the most smooth time ever since she stepped out of the airport, the car that was supposed to pick her up, bringing another surprise with it: her father.

To say that she was huffing and puffing the whole way home was an understatement. There was a time she used to have the best kind of relationship she could ever have with her father, one where they would spend most of their times together laughing and having fun, but something happened that changed her whole demeanor towards the man. It wasn’t that he had done something to upset her, far from it. It was just that Y/N grew up to be a completely different person than she used to. Maybe it was the friends she had made, taking her out every possible minute of the day, introducing her to famous people and to the most frivolous way of living. Her father couldn’t exactly say what had happened, but it was like she changed for good, always causing a trouble in every way she went through.

That was what they talked about most of their way back home, Y/N keeping her eyes locked out of the almost black window as she tried to drown her father’s words, but he could be pretty loud when he wanted to, even when he didn’t raise his voice. He had gone on and on about her not being the most responsible person to ever walking this Earth and how he wished she could be a little bit more like how she used to when she was younger. She could go out and have fun with her friends, he just didn’t want her running to the airport in the middle of the night to catch a flight to the other side of the planet to have some fun in the middle of a paradisiac island. She should have discussed that with him first and not jumped into any conclusion.

Of course, Y/N listened to all of it with deaf ears, not paying the slight attention to anything, her mind running a hundred miles per hours as she internally rolled her eyes at her father’s antics of trying to tame her. He could never do it. He would never do it.

That was probably why she had a migraine that night, from the constant talk the older man was giving, not giving her a moment to catch her breath. Not that she would say anything back to him, of course, because she could be better than that. Y/N had learned that when it came to making her way out of trouble with Alexander Y/L/N, all she had to do was look at him as a little kid, batter her eyebrows a couple of times and smile adorably at him. That would do the trick.

Either way, she didn’t stay around much to hear what else he had to say for as soon as she had reached their destination, she was already off to get ready, not a care in the world as she neglected every recommendation she was given. It was a night to have fun and not worry about anything else. And empty threats weren’t going to stop her.

A black car stopped by the sidewalk, a tall, broad driver getting out of the vehicle and walking to the back door, opening it before looking at the girl standing near the wall, her eyes rolling for what felt like the millionth time in the last five minutes.

“What could possibly have taken you so long?” she hissed, her hands going to the handle of the door as she climbed into the car gracefully, sliding to the other side of the seat without waiting for a reply from the man outside, her attention already turned to her phone. She had to keep her social media apps updated.

The drive back home was quite uneventful, the streets somehow empty even with all the people roaming around it earlier that night. Maybe they all had gone somewhere else by now, maybe the losers had already hit the Hollywood Blvd, something she would never do, something she would never think about. She had standards and for as much as the place seemed like a good thing, she would never let herself mingle with tourists and those who she thought of less than her.

The lights of the house were all turned off, something she greeted with enthusiasm. It meant she wouldn’t have to deal with complaints about being out so late or anything of the sorts.

But as soon as Y/N stepped in the living room, her high heels dangling from her hands as she tried to make her best to not make any noise, a dim light from the other side of the room was lit up, the shadow of a man sitting in the couch caught her attention, her blood running cold before she could listen to the words leaving his mouth.

“Where were you?” Her father inquired, his expression not showing any kind of emotion as he eyed the girl up and down, a small wrinkle in his forehead as he took in the state she had walked in; barefoot, smudged makeup and slightly drunk. That was not what he had hoped to see.

“Dad,” she breathed out, one hand reaching into her chest and grasping it as she tried to calm herself down. “You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing sitting there in the dark?”

“What a worried father would do, waiting for you to show up. Trying to calm myself down as I prayed and hoped you were alright because you didn’t pick the phone.” His tone was somber, his eyes, which she was trying to find, were hidden in the shadows cast by the lamp behind him. “I just didn’t go after you because I knew that if anything had happened, I would know by now.”

Y/N smiled inwardly, her heart warmed by the way he worried about her. There were moments she thought he would only care about the conglomerate of companies he had acquired over the years, the companies and stores he had worked so hard to put in the world. All the business meetings, all the trips and the nights away from her had made her believe that she was just there, barely cared for. But then... Whenever she did anything slightly dangerous, that was when Y/N would realize that maybe not all of it was true. Maybe he did care about her.

She took tentative steps towards him, her hands reaching for his as she uncrossed his arms and sat on his lap, something she always seemed to do when she was younger and needed to feel safe. She no longer needed the security anymore, but she liked to be close to him, to hear his soft breaths and the way his heart beat against his ribcage, reminding her that he was still there, that even when she did things wrong, he was still there for her.

Alexander took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment as he tried to organize his thoughts, trying to think what he was going to say first.

“You can’t keep pulling stunts like that, Y/N,” he said after a few seconds, the girl trying her best look at the wall in front of her and not to her father as if she was already bored of what he had to say. He was tired of that attitude. “You give me no other choice, kiddo…”

Blinking a couple of times, Y/N turned her face to her dad, her expression contorted in confusion as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Maybe she had dozed off for a few seconds and didn’t catch the rest of his words.

“What do you mean?” she had one eyebrow up, a trait she had inherited from her mother, something she always seemed to do and that crackled the man in front of her for the resemblance the two women had.

“You need to learn some responsibilities,” he started with a sigh. “You need to learn that things won’t ever come to you as you wish, things won’t be played in your favor for the rest of your life. I lost track of how many times I had to rescue you out of a bad situation, Y/N. Like last summer in Ibiza.”

“That wasn’t-”

“I don’t care if that was your fault or not. The fact is that you made me get out of the country in the middle of the night to bail you out of jail,” he took a deep breath. “You’re a grown-up woman already, Y/N and I want to make sure you’ll be able to take care of yourself when I’m not around anymore.”

“Don’t say that, Dad.” she huffed. “You are around now.”

“For now,” he said with a small chuckle. “And I intend to be for many more years, but I won’t be here forever, sweetie, that’s just how life goes. And that’s why,” he tapped her legs a couple of times, telling her to get up as he also did so. “That’s why you’re starting a new life.”

Y/N looked completely confused, waiting for him to finish whatever he was going to say.

“What?”

“It’s gonna teach you some values and how you have to be thankful for everything that you have. It’s also gonna give you responsibilities, something I really want you to learn,” there was a pause as he walked up to the other side of the room, his hands fiddling with some papers sitting on the desk. “Y/N, you’re gonna start working in one of our coffee shops.”

Tag list: @disbestiles, @centxneo, @savage-stilinski, @apkavy, @akumakoronso, @hope-stilinski, @mf-despair-queen, @roscoeknows

#noah centineo #noah centineo fanfic #noah centineo fluff #noah centineo smut #noah centineo au #noah centineo x reader #noah centineo feet #noah centineo fanfiction

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lewnatic · 6 years

Note

For the D&D asks, 1-20

Oh gosh, okay. This is gonna be long so I’m gonna do it under a cut.

What was your favorite Nat 1 Experience?

I don’t think a lot of my characters have had really funny Nat1 moments, sadly. I will always remember the one when @zhixx made a goblin named Spook’em specifically designed to have the least survivability possible. The first time he was downed he rolled a Nat1 on his first death save. The feeling of comedic timing was just beautiful.

Favorite D&D Inside Joke?

“You are a privateer! BUT ON LAHND.”

Favorite Item Your Character received in D&D?

Phailyn was supposed to get a tome to increase his strength, but when his crush said she wanted it, he immediately fucking dropped it so she could have it. So the DM let me sneak off and get a scrying orb we’d passed up earlier. He hasn’t used it yet, but I just like the story behind it.

Ves probably considers Sikrikta to be the best item she’s received has a lot of really expensive shit she’s keeping just because she has bourgie taste. She got a bottle of wine as a gift that would have been 400g if she’d left it unopened. She’s drinking it gradually through the adventure. It’s good, but not quite as good as what she’s used to.

Teeki has a gaudy diamond crown that Bing bought for 300 gold. It does nothing. It is purely cosmetic. She loves it.

Basically I love frivolous shit.

Preferred Animal Companion (if you had any)?

Vesxlit has a familiar, if that counts. He’s a parrot named Brilliant. He talks like a normal human (in a setting where that is definitely not commonplace) and is a member of the Bardic College in the capital city of the nation we’re traveling in.

He’s a posh gentleman who helps Ves sew dresses. They spend 90% of their time arguing because, being a bird, his fashion sense is incredibly bright and garish.

Favorite D&D Battle Encounter?

Every boss fight Skaaren has done is goddamn awesome, tbh. My favorite is the first just because of how scary it was.

Keep in mind, we’re level 1 in Pathfinder, an Oracle (Ves) and a Barbarian (Cato.) We’ve just watched a big hole open up in the ground, and our characters don’t know why, but we’re looking for missing people (including the barbarian’s boyfriend Fabius, he’s important) so we figure hell, this is probably where they’re missing.

We find some of the missing people at the bottom of the hole, but we haven’t found Fabius, so we go deeper in. We find this creepy old woman doing some kinda ritual or something by a pool of water? Barbarian charges in to kill her and save his man, and… kills her very quickly.

Silence. We go to check on Fabius, and we’re not sure if we can safely move him. I’m running out of heals from earlier stuff and I pop my last one on him, and after a while of debating what to do a ton of undead start coming out of the water. Just a goddamn mob. Whatever the hell creepy-lady was doing, we were suddenly way in over our heads. Even if we picked up Fabius and ran, we don’t have a fast way out of this hole. And we start taking damage fast. Including Fabius.

I don’t remember the specifics of the fight. I think that’s a testament to how much we were panicking. I remember feeling the helplessness of being a mage completely out of spell slots frantically trying to hit things with my stupid mace.

And I remember when the fight was over, I stayed down there panicking for several more minutes, trying to determine if Fabius was even alive while the barbarian ran to get the local doctor in a town of which he didn’t even speak the language.

In the end, Fabius was okay, and we both got out of it alive. It was just that sense of dread and fear, that we didn’t know how the DM’s rolls were going or if anything we were trying had any impact. Skaaren has always done a stellar job since of bringing that sense of genuine fear into the game when he wants to, but that first unexpected taste of it was so damn cool.

Favorite D&D NPC Interaction?

Varis Vrynn was my favorite villain. Not because of his fight, or how he fit into the greater lore, but because of how @extravagantshoes played him. He was a slimy uppity elf in the city of Galthiel, a city with heavy class divides based on magic ability. Varis was a powerful diviner, and a lot of our party interactions involved everyone in the party trying to piss him off and Varis looking down his nose in disgust at all of us.

Then Cedlanna, our young sorcerer, got a conversation with him alone in his manor, where he wanted to make a deal with her. And she just ripped into him. Cut to the core of his insecurities and how with all of his riches on display, his manor still was incredibly empty–that for all the parties he hosted he was completely alone.

He was doing some really irredeemable things and later tried to kill us all but I still managed to feel kind of sad that we ended up gruesomely killing him.

Dumbest thing You & Your Party Did

Charging through multiple spinning saws comes to mind. Every time I try to sneak around in heavy plate armor also comes to mind.

I feel like I need to make a separate post to discuss just all the impulsive things Cato does. Turning an entire city upside down just for the chance to punch a specific guy in the face was one.

Most Epic thing You & Your Party Did

I might also make a separate post about this, but Cato and Ves convinced a bunch of lizard people that they were their gods.

Basically in this setting, the level 1 baddies generally fought are called Rapia. They’re kobold-esque in design, but they have a faith-based culture and… well, kind of a faith-based biology. Rapia need something to worship, they undergo gradual physiological changes based on the thing they follow. (Say it’s a sea creature, they might get gills.) And if they don’t have something to worship, they literally become sick and presumably die.

We’d fought a few before and looted crap from their caves, including a tiny hammer that we never could have used but the barbarian held onto cuz idk??

We later ran into some others by falling through the roof of their cave, but they didn’t attack us. They started to assume that we were the gods depicted on one of their cave walls. For the sake of brevity, a fight broke out later when we were trying to leave, and Cato gave the hammer to one of the rapia who was helping us escape. It turned out in the DM’s notes, this hammer had significance to the rapia, and was supposed to be given to the religious leader of a tribe. And so the entire tribe turned to our side and protected us. And… they started following us.

It was about this time that the DM broke character to tell us he had no plan of this happening, and I guess we just have a tribe of rapia now. And we’ve had the goddamn campaign balanced around having a tribe of rapia ever since.

What did you like about your Campaign’s World?

I’m gonna try to sum these up quickly cuz these stories have already gotten long.

The Ascension world has elements of what I affectionately like to call Pop Fantasy, there’s some genre-awareness while not being parody, and all the work on the pantheon Spi did has been goddamn amazing. I also cannot figure out the overarching mysteries and that is awesome.

Nejj puts a ton into immersing us into the world. I can always very clearly get a feel for the sort of setting he’s putting us in, and I’ve been having a lot of fun with the political intrigue he’s been setting up.

Skaaren’s got the weirdest goddamn races in his setting and I love every single one of them. He’s also packed the setting full of little cultural details, I swear to god he’s done extensive research into what we’re having for breakfast in the morning based on where we’re staying.

What was the most Interesting Lore you Found?

I seriously can’t pick a favorite here so I’m going to give a silly answer, and that’s that acolytes of Ves’s goddess commune with her by getting super high.

Summarize Your Campaign(s) in a Single Sentence

One for each campaign:A group of weird rebels and one very ordinary guy dismantle the ruling government.Goblins discover crazy politics and necromancy, what happens next will warm your heart.Tourists getting intimate with the horrifying hidden truths of nature

Describe your whole Party Dynamic in a Sentence

The best bunch of weirdos and one stupid shady paladin.Loner rogue becomes Team Mom by sheer force of how much the other two hate each other.Bug Jesus and The Angriest Boy discover family in the form of lizards.

What Alignment do your characters lean towards?

I have a weird time choosing an alignment for characters cuz motivations change a lot for my nerds. Teeki was True Neutral but has become more Chaotic Good. Ves is Lawful Good I guess?? And Phai is a goddamn mess whose alignment has shifted at least thrice since his conception.

How do you tend to Take Notes (if you do)?

Badly! Next question.

Prefer Story/Plot Driven or No Plot/Character-Driven Campaigns?

I tend to prefer plot-driven, but I honestly think elements of both should be implemented in your narrative–occasionally giving breaks from the overarching plot to give the cast some time to dick around can give a breath of fresh air to roleplay.

Combat or Role Play?

Roleplay, of course. I actually used to think I hated D&D combat. It took a lot of great sessions to make me realize that the RP doesn’t stop for combat, and that’s when I started really getting into learning and enjoying mechanics elements.

Favorite D&D Monster/Creature?

Illithid. I would love to actually play as one someday.

Magic User or Fighter?

Magic is more engaging to me, personally, but I like both.

Preferred Weapon/Spell in D&D?

Tasha’s Hideous Laughter. In large part because of how it’s roleplayed in Critical Role tbh. I also have felt the high of Sneak Attack enough times to really love it now.

What was your Favorite Nat 20 Experience?

One time I rolled a Nat20 perception while we were on the road and it was literally just to find a coin on the ground. That might always be my favorite.

#dnd #lewnspeak #gobbos #ascension #scarecrowmes

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johobi · 7 years

Text

When You Least Expect It | 09

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader x Taehyung

Word count: 11.6k

Warnings: depression, anxiety, a very vague allusion to self-harm, graphic, penetrative sex, vulgar language etc.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732419/navigate

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long to edit!!

Next: 10 || WYLEI Masterlist

You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last-ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

The three days following that ill-omened evening passed with as much ease as a spell in the Underworld. You could have been swayed into believing that that was where you were now sentenced, perpetually, to reside, but for your familiarly unextraordinary surroundings. The Black Dog had become Cerberus, and tirelessly upheld your condemnation. Never too far astray, and possessed, always, of a voracious appetite for your misery, the hound snuck its way into the sanctuary of your home and watched you reduce to a melancholic soup between the stale, rumpled sheets of your seldom-left bed.

And you still functioned, yes – to the casual eye. But only to deter interrogation over that most unbearable of subjects. Adopting a frivolous front was so mentally taxing, that you attended only those obligations that demanded your appearance. Like at work, for example. Your sole method of coping, there, came in the form of the new hire Hoseok presented to you on Day One, Post-Taehyung.

In the wake of such devastation, it was far easier to assume a different role; a different life.

So, on Day One, you became The Trainer. The Trainer was bubbly, comedically clumsy and ever so relieved to have the extra pair of hands. Even Hoseok loved The Trainer. So much so, you began to wonder if he preferred her to the real you. The you that slept little, ate less, and, when at home, did nothing. Even when the roots of your hair came to shine like you’d been baptised in a font of grease, you did nothing. And when the blank page of your perennially unstarted assignment began to blend in with the walls surrounding it, you did nothing then, either.

On Day Two, as you lay there in the comforting—for its sheer suffocation—murk of your apartment, the laptop winked its final goodbye as it gave up hope.

And on Day Three, the day that should not have been Day Three but the date with Jungkook you had so been looking forward to, you gave up hope.

As the intervals between his determined door-knocking grew, hailing his weakening will, the path to him felt far too long; far too treacherous to tread. The exhaustion that dogged you saw corridors and rooms outstretch the paltry floorspace detailed in your tenancy agreement, casting Jungkook beyond reach.

You would never make it.

The rapping stopped.

So, this was loneliness. Four blank walls and sour-smelling sheets.

You rolled over, eager to succumb to the lethargy that lapped at your toes. That buffered you from the vulturous circling of your more serrated thoughts.

But then you saw him. Saw his kind, softly-sloping features. A face that granted you succour for its sheer existence.

Your phone cast you in a cool glow, not far removed from your waxen complexion. Jungkook vibrated incessantly, and would not go unignored. When his attempt to reach you passed its fourth minute, the gamble of picking up had your heart hammering. If you answered, what would you be met with? An anger that burned so hot, it could disintegrate what fragile matter of you that remained? You just didn’t have the strength.

But if you didn’t, Jungkook would be gone.

Just like him.

And the crippling fear of that possibility had your thumb swiping in a panic-stricken fumble to admit his call. “H-Hello?” you mumbled, voice uneven for its prolonged disuse.

“____?” came Jungkook’s sweet, agreeable – oh, so, so agreeable – tones. They cracked under concern. “Noona, are you okay? Where are you? I’m at your apartment, like we arranged.”

No, you hadn’t even possessed the decency to cancel the meeting you knew you would never make it to. But that’s what you did, when things became unbearable. Avoided them. Like you did, now, with anyone or anything related to the man who had cut you to ribbons. Even Yoongi, who, by mere association, had become painful to be in the presence of.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you rasped flatly. “I’m not feeling well. Hiking is too much.”

The fury would come, any second now. You didn’t even care to brace for it. Just a hope remained, that it would push you a stage past numb and into an anaesthetised utopia.

But it didn’t. Only warmth trickled forth from the speaker. “That’s okay, noona. We don’t have to go hiking. Are you sick?”

“Yeah, something like that that,” you mumbled, as indistinct as the enigma of an answer you’d given. Had you the strength, you’d have berated yourself for harbouring reservations about expressing your mental anguish to him. Jungkook had, after all, sworn himself to be nothing but a willing ear to your woes. As always, though, your reluctance to add to his burdensome load prevented you from voicing them. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

Wise to your tendency for deflection, however, he wouldn’t allow you to withhold it from him. “Not feeling well in yourself?”

Such a gentle, considerate way to put it. Dare you say, the faintest of somethings tickled your necrotic heart? Maybe it was still capable of sensation. “No, not at all. I’ve been having some very bad days.”

A sigh filtered through your phone, but it wasn’t one of frustration. Nor despondency, which you feared more. “Noona, I know you have this thing where you feel like you have to keep everything to yourself, but even when we can’t be together in person, I’m at the end of a line, at the very least,” was Jungkook’s tender appeal to you. “Texting is great at hiding emotion, because I had no idea you were struggling. That, or I’m an idiot and should have realised.”

“You’re not an idiot,” you immediately dismissed such undeserving slander. “I mislead you on purpose. I was trying to dig my own way out of this hole, but, uh,” you cast a despairing look around the disarray surrounding you. “That didn’t happen. Sorry.”

Jungkook was swift to scold you. “Stop apologising, seriously. We don’t have to go hiking, but I don’t want to leave you alone—I mean, unless you want to be alone, that is,” he added hastily. He was trying so hard to say the right thing. A blooming warmth began to thaw you. “But I don’t want to leave you alone. I want to be with you. We could just spend the day inside and chill out? That sounds just as appealing to me.”

You surprised yourself. Spurning his company had seemed like a dead cert. “No, I don’t want to be alone. But you can’t come in, my place is a fucking pig sty and I’m—I’m embarrassed.”

At your confession, he addressed you with an impassioned softness. “Noona,” he murmured, the word like a velvet-wrapped embrace as it kissed your ear drums. “There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. But, I understand, and I won’t ask to come in. Why don’t you come to my place?”

Now that it was he himself proposing it to you, the prospect of a fresh environment and more Jungkook became the only appealing suggestion to broach your shroud of gloom since its descension over you. Nothing could be better for you than to gain distance from the pungency of unlaundered clothes and the ecosystem that now thrived in your kitchen sink. You grasped the opportunity with both hands. “I-I’d love to. That sounds like a really nice idea. Can I have, like, ten minutes to make myself somewhat presentable? I’m sor—”

“Of course,” Jungkook cut through your forthcoming apology. He wasn’t having it today. “Take as long as you want. I’ll be waiting in my car, okay?”

“Okay,” you hugged the phone closer with both hands. “Thank you, Jungkook. Really.”

“It’s cool. Selfish, really. I wanted to see you so badly,” he admitted with a bashful chuckle, the pure noise summoning the makings of a smile to your face. And thank God, because you’d been convinced future appearances of the expression would prove elusive.

It was imperative that he knew this. “I wanted to see you, too. I really did, I was just—so—I don’t know. Well, you do know. And you didn’t give up and leave me to it. You could have done, probably should have, but—”

“Stop, noona. Go get yourself ready, and—” Jungkook paused to draw in a sharp, excited breath. “Hey, why not get some stuff together to do some baking? Not that I’m any good at it, but I know how much you love it. Why don’t you show me how to make something?”

A faint chuckle threatened to shake free the device you clasped so weakly. Jesus, you really needed to eat something soon. “That does sound fun. You probably won’t have all the utensils I’ll need, so I’ll bring what I can. Uh, just—”

“Hm?”

“I look like shit, so try not to look too horrified when you see me,” you rushed out with a grimace that couldn’t be seen, but felt all too well in your self-deprecative humour. Even as physically and emotionally weak as you were, you were incapable of giving yourself a much-needed break from criticism, no matter how undue. Indeed, had you been laid out on your death bed at this very moment, dragging in your penultimate breaths, you’d likely be apologising to Jungkook for the haggardness of your appearance, or how abrasive to the ears your final gasps might be. “I’ll try and lessen the damage if I can,” you continued, though the appeal of applying make-up was a zero on a scale of I can’t even be bothered to breathe to Do I really have to comb my hair?

Now Jungkook was frustrated. But only enough to target you with a playful chastisement. One that had you swooning like a silent movie starlet. “Don’t you dare, or I’ll come up there and throw you over my shoulder before you have a chance to,” he warned with an authoritative growl. “Just keep yourself comfortable. We’ll probably get messy anyway, I’m notoriously clumsy with food. Especially if I’m wearing a white shirt, which I am.”

“Okay, okay,” you relented, his encouragement invigorating your faltering limbs enough to haul yourself from bed. You fished around in the pile of clothes that, while a little creased, were still unworn. “I’ll get my ass into gear. I’ll be down soon.”

“’Kay. I’m just outside,” was his parting comment before he hung up.

One brisk shower, a hesitantly adorned romper and a perilously pinned bun later, you were ready. Well, not ready, as such, because you still considered your appearance lacking, but Jungkook’s sternly-worded warning rang in your ears and prevented you from making further embellishments. Bare- and fresh-faced was how he was going to receive you. Okay, so maybe not fresh, more weeklong, sequestered neglect-faced, but at least it was bare, as ordered.

Having haphazardly shoved into a box what culinary implements and ingredients you could think to bring, you hauled the cargo with great difficulty down the narrow staircase descending. Your choice of flats afforded you, at least, the agility to catch yourself on the next step when you nearly met your neck-breaking end a few times.

With an incredibly unattractive scowl, you sandwiched the box between the wall and your body as you fumbled with the lock, and wore the expression still when the door opened into Jungkook’s immediate face. Abruptly, you wiped your features free of their unsightly crumpling and, quite of their own accord, found them curving to accommodate a giddy smile. One he wrenched from you with such ease. And giddy, because how the fuck did he get more beautiful with each meeting? The party felt so long ago now, but in reality, it had only been a week or so. The heart — and, indeed, the eyes — evidently grow fonder with time. “Jungkook, I thought you were going to wait in the car? You made me jump.”

“Sorry,” your guts twisted at the crooked grin he slapped on as he immediately relieved you of your load. “I thought you might need help carrying stuff.”

Forever obliging to lighten your figurative and physical strains, Jungkook’s attentiveness sent you into an inward flap. And the re-emergence of his beautiful fucking buck-teeth only intensified the party-for-one taking place in your stomach. Luckily, you were adept at channelling an outward serenity. “Thank you,” was your predictably unimaginative response. Honestly, he deserved so much more than that – not just for carrying a stupid box – but the words to express complex sentiment often abandoned you.

One side of his mouth pitched higher as he led you to his car. “Wow, this is a lot of stuff. Are we preparing a seven-course meal?” he jibed, gently setting the culinary collection into the trunk. He treated even the most inanimate of objects with the care and consideration with which he handled you, as though he considered anything by proxy just as precious. Why, exactly, had you been so unwilling to spend this day with him, again? Free from insidious thought – momentarily, at least –and rooted in the reality of his uplifting presence, the hopelessness of 30 minutes ago seemed lifetimes past.

Jungkook caught your quiet smile as he darted around the car with an adamance to hold open its door for you. “There she is,” he grinned openly when you neared him, hands on hips. “I love your dress, by the way. You look beautiful, as ever.”

“Oh my God, stop,” you groaned, plopping into your seat with a huff and whipping the seatbelt around you. “And it’s not a dress, it’s a romper.”

He closed the door and leaned through the open window to scrutinise the garment in question. “I don’t know what that is.”

It was the most throwaway of comments, but it tore a bark of laughter from you, as though he’d hammered on your chest to extract it from you himself. It was an odd, but welcome, sound. “That’s so funny, and I don’t even know why.”

Giggles continued to hijack you as Jungkook rounded the car and took to the driver’s seat, an eyebrow hooked high in amusement. “If I just say random words, will you laugh?”

“No,” you were perceptibly shaking, now, exposing you for the flimsiness of your denial. And even when you perched an elbow on the door to better adhere a hand to your mouth, it did little to stifle the string of hiccups you were now stricken with. Your chest ached for each sharp intake of breath they prompted. “Fuck, I can’t s—hyuh!—stop!”

As the engine turned over, Jungkook adopted a brassy voice that was comedically dissonant from his usual, reserved tone. He strained his vocal chords into breaking. “Cucumber, squash—oh, this fucking car—moist, cheese, moist cheese,” a hyena-like cackle, interspersed by loud, abrupt squeaks, resounded as your attempts to hinder the noises fell flat. His unrelated interjection — as passionately voiced as the rest of his nonsense recital — only heightened the hilarity of the situation.

“Fuck,” you tittered, wiping away a tear born, for once, from something other than melancholy. “You’re—hup—insane.”

Jungkook yelled victoriously when the car finally growled to life. “I was getting worried, there.”

A snigger. “Yeah, me too. Not for the car, though.”

“I’ve got more where that came from,” he tongued his cheek like the appealing bastard he didn’t know he was, peering behind the both of you to check for blind spots. As he pulled away: “Especially if I get to hear more of your ridiculously adorable hiccups.”

Your cheeks bulged with captive air. “Please, no,” you sighed, releasing a long, restorative breath. When no further hiccups came, you wrapped your stomach in a wary hug. “I’m aching. Sounds like your car’s on its way out, though.”

Jungkook’s face fell slightly. “It is. I’ve been told to expect it. I can’t afford anything else, though, and it’s already had some emergency maintenance,” you watched, distracted, the way his mouth puckered and slackened as it shaped every enchanting syllable. Receptive to the allure of the sight, your lips parted in harmony. “It won’t go on for much longer. I’m looking for better paid work, actually.”

That drew you back. “You’re leaving the school?”

“It’s not that I want to,” Jungkook nibbled on his lower lip like the long-eared mammal he so endearingly resembled. “I don’t have much of a choice. I won’t be able to afford rent, soon. The car trouble is only adding to the list of money troubles I’m having. And I really don’t wanna be stuck in this situation for too much longer,” his addendum was voiced with an understandable, though subtle, distress.

You wanted to draw his hand into a consolatory hold, but it was more pressingly occupied. “I’m really sorry to hear that. I know how tough things can get.”

Jungkook delivered a heartening slap to your bare thigh, sending you rocketing up in your seat. “Don’t worry, I’m surviving. To be honest, I was doubtful of whether I was going to bother sticking around this city. Until I met you,” the volume of his admission plunged dangerously close to a whisper. He stole a meaningful glance your way, the coyest of smirks twitching upward his mouth. Jungkook had an aptitude for pulling off such contradictory expressions. “Moving away from home definitely seemed like the best decision at the time, but I began to doubt it a couple of months ago. When I got poor, basically,” he snickered. “Things are really tough on your own.”

The breath you’d been inadvertently holding since the – by no means unwelcome – introduction of his hand, flowed free. “Right? Bit of a culture shock. I should’ve gotten a roommate, really, but my studio is just about manageable.”

Your heart fluttered to an unsteady rhythm when Jungkook became conscious of where his fingers were so intimately situated. Lingering along the innermost of your thigh, they skimmed the supple flesh beneath them as he corrected the bold manoeuvre and removed them entirely. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he begged his pardon with a clear of his throat, eyes glued a little too firmly to the road.

“Now it’s my turn to tell you off for apologising,” your lips plucked up slyly. “Not after the things we’ve been talking about. Anyway,” you drizzled the last word with a stomach-turning sweetness. “What were you saying about not sticking around until you met me?”

Jungkook’s flushing subsided somewhat with the diversion from altogether more sordid topics. “It’s simple, really. I want to stay here, now. Because of, uh, you,” but ruby kissed his cheeks all the more avidly for the heart-pounding proclamation.

God, you needed to kiss him.

Unfortunately, unless a kiss was worth the certain, gory decapitation the distraction would bring, you’d have to go hungry.

And you were positively starving.

You clenched fists around your seatbelt, like you didn’t trust it to hold you in place for much longer. However, even if your traitorous hands didn’t uproot the meddlesome restraint, the blaze of adoration raging against your ribcage would easily incinerate it. “Wow,” was your eloquent response.

Jungkook didn’t allow you to elaborate. “I—I mean, don’t think that I’m putting pressure on you to like me, or anything—”

“Fuck’s sake,” you growled, all a shackled beast burning with the frustration of being denied its master’s touch. Jungkook’s eyes widened fretfully. “I really gotta kiss you right now, but I can’t. You’re driving.”

The heated exclamation alone was enough for him to momentarily forget the importance of steering the death contraption you were both belted into. When you realised he was no longer adhering to the highway code, but instead lavishing you with a protracted, open-mouthed ogling, you pushed his face frontward. As heart-stopping as Jungkook was, the magnetism of his stare would, for sure, guarantee your collision with something far more fatal than each other. Nevertheless, he spent much of his time casting you vital, sidelong looks. “I—I can stop. I can stop right now. I can pull over right here.”

Your head hit the headrest with a dull thump, overcome with mirth for his urgency. “We have all day. Keep driving, I have some refrigerated stuff in the back.”

Jungkook emitted a desirous whine. “I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“Tough,” you snapped merrily, spotting a camera case in the backseat as your eyes perused its hazardously stacked contents. Guilt gored you when you caught sight of his thoughtfully-packed backpack. He’d clearly been prepared for your originally intended date activities. “You brought your camera, after all.”

He peered over his shoulder. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Well, now I can take pictures of you in the comfort of my own home, instead.”

Turning in your seat, you propped your chin upon the heel of your hand. There was no way you could let pass such a fortuitous opportunity to see him squirm. “Yeah? What kind?”

His mouth hung open a fraction at the bait, but avoided the snare. “Whatever you like. You’re my muse.”

The sincerity of the compliment threw off your sultry play. You’d never met a guy who countered coquetry with kindliness. Undefeated in all your many bouts of flirtation thus far, Jungkook was the only one to frequently give you pause. Who knew your Achilles heel was not, in fact, obscenities so appalling that Eros himself would recoil in revulsion, but plain old flattery? Flattery that spilled with such liberty from behind those exasperatingly darling teeth? “Stop being so nice.”

“Why do you always say that?” his brows met in bemusement. “It’s as if no-one’s ever treated you the way they should.”

He had no idea how close that hit to home. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just particularly kind.”

“I’m not,” the furrow deepened. “Sounds like you dated some douchebags.”

“Quite a few,” you began, then thought better of elaboration. Jungkook didn’t need to hear the true extent of your hormone-fuelled regrets. “But that doesn’t matter, now. You’re opening my eyes to a lot of things.”

“I’ll take that as your roundabout way of admitting that you really like me and wanna spend all your time with me. Forever,” Jungkook’s jesting crinkled the corners of his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

And, yes, you did.

Because you no longer wanted a life that was absent of something so diminutive, so tremendous, as the way his features puckered around joy. You wanted to watch those creases, with time, score themselves between his brows and atop his cheekbones.

And you wanted to be the one who engraved them there.

“Forever is a long time,” you cautioned with a wink. But inside, you were already living it.

You were enamoured.

When he parked beside an obnoxiously up-market apartment complex, you presumed it was to grab some snacks from the gentrified establishments opposite. However, as he lugged the box of utensils to your window, he ducked his head in, confused. “Why aren’t you getting out?”

“Wait, you live here?” you gawped, eyeballing the building that emanated affluence. “No wonder you’re fucking broke!”

As you exited the car, mouth still unflatteringly ajar, Jungkook developed a sudden interest in the – miraculously unblemished – paving beneath your feet. As one of the great unwashed, you felt at risk of apprehension for even daring to tread there. “It’s nowhere near as expensive as it looks, but, yeah. All my savings are gone. I didn’t really budget all that well, but I kinda left home in a hurry. This was the first place I could find.”

Was he really that naïve about financial matters? “Why not just downsize, then?”

“The landlord won’t release me from my contract. I have another six months left on it,” he huffed in vexation, tapping a six-digit code into the pad adjoining the gate. With a buzz as grating as the needlessly extravagant entrance it controlled, the lock released. Jungkook stood aside, stubborn in his chivalry, to allow you entry. “If you ever wanna get in, the code is 093457. Can you remember that?”

Wow.

Without a whisper of doubt fogging his eyes, he’d placed a ghost of a key in your palm. Like it was of no more significance than those digits of his stored in your phone.

Boy, things were progressing rather quick.

And you were clinging, white-knuckled, to the front seat of this rollercoaster as it barrelled down a track conspicuously free of obstacles, squealing for it to go faster. The opportunity to alight had long since passed. All you could do now was throw up your hands and scream. “I think I can, yeah. Thank you. I’ll make sure to come here in the middle of the night to relieve you of all the rich-people possessions you probably own.”

As you entered the lobby, as plush and immaculate as it could only have been, Jungkook ushered you into one of the immediate elevators. The cubicle alone, less of walls and more of mirrored panelling – you know, so you can better appreciate how wealthy you look when en route to brunch with dahling Cressida – was bigger than your only bathroom.

“I’m far from rich,” he muttered into the box staunchly cradled to his chest. A billow of powder stirred under the gust of his breath. Looks like the flour didn’t survive the journey. “Not anymore. My parents are, though. Maybe that’s why it was hard to let that lifestyle go. I made a lot of mistakes learning, that’s for sure. Still am,” was his barely audible addition.

You stood a little straighter. This was his first time mentioning more than their existence in passing. “Why did you decide to leave?”

“They started pressuring me into things,” the offering was vague and ominous in tone. Eyes rising to the mirror image of him opposite, Jungkook engaged his counterpart in a steely staredown. “Business stuff. I didn’t want anything to do with it.”

The hum of the ascending elevator filled the hush left by your introspective pause. “You’re not part of a family-run crime syndicate, are you?” you posed, only half-joking.

Jungkook’s scowl broke with a bob of his shoulders. His laugh could be corked and peddled as a cure-all. And you’d be first in line. “No, it’s not quite that bad. Though, that’d probably be infinitely cooler than the reality. My parents—well, my father—is the head of a pretty large conglomerate. My mother is a member of the board.”

Your eyebrows shot up into the stratosphere. “Whoa. Hella rich, then.”

“Hella? Have you been playing Life is—”

“—Strange? Absolutely. I’m hella fond of that word, now,” you expressed that fondness with a toothy grin that tripled his. But your glee faltered somewhat when you recollected his earlier visitation of your apartment. “Shit, and you’ve been in my hovel of an apartment. I bet that must’ve been like dumpster diving.”

With a ding of announcement, the lift drifted to a halt. Taking the lead again, Jungkook shook his head. And like a cat stalking the metallic shimmy of a bell-toting toy, your eyes snapped to the quiver of his helix piercings. There wasn’t a thing about this man that wasn’t sexy as fuck. “I loved it so much I considered asking to move in as soon as I stepped foot inside.”

You rolled your eyes at his back. “Let’s swap, then. What do you have, a three-bedroom? Four?”

Jungkook crowed. “Okay, I’m stupid with money, but I’m not that stupid. It only has one bedroom. As you’re about to see,” he gestured to the door he now stood before. “Can you take this for a sec?”

“Sure, I should be carrying it anyway,” you relieved him of the box that clanked with the promise of sweet concoctions. “Did you just say I’m about to see your bedroom?”

He fished in the pockets of his jeans for his keys and, with a smooth turn of burnished brass, let you into the awaiting opulence. “I—I meant the apartment,” he spluttered, and you watched, with a kittenish smirk, the tips of his ears tinge red. “You know what I meant.”

“So, are you famous enough for me to Google y—whoa.”

Okay, so it wasn’t on the same scale as Yoongi’s gratuitous bachelor pad, but it was sumptuous all the same. “Nice,” you whistled, your focus fastening to the splendour beneath your feet. Rich, restored mahogany kissed your unworthy soles – something you were all too aware of, as you hastily slipped off your scuffed excuses for shoes – and played host to a number of tastefully-placed shag rugs. Rugs that just cried out to be rolled on. You eyed one, transfixed, a cat again. A cat that had located its next nap spot.

Juxtaposed with the knife-point angles and frigid decor of Yoongi’s apartment that so became him, Jungkook’s was warm- toned, with soft furnishings and of a lived-in air that appealed to you immensely. “This is probably how I’d decorate my place if I had any money,” you lauded, resembling a Nodding Dog for all your vague head-bobbing. “I like it.”

Like Yoongi’s, though, Jungkook’s apartment was open-plan but for the bedroom and bathroom tucked away to the side. Shafts of light, streaming from a slanted glass wall – a fixture imposing in its sheer immensity – brought forth golden tones latent in the dark wood. The sight further compelled you to flop down, belly-up, and bask, feline-like, in the warmth of its glow.

Jungkook deposited the the box – its contents, now, as tossed as a salad – on the asymmetrical countertop of his rustic breakfast bar. And with an expectant hand poised to catch his four-digit camera, he shrugged the strap free from his shoulder. “I’m glad you like it,” his voice took on that fondness for you that you could never quite understand.

What, in all actuality, did he see in you?

When you had drunk in your legal limit of his pleasantly sedative abode, you turned to him, giddy. His eyes played on you, cryptically astir at having won your acclaim. Chin in hand, he propped himself against the counter, looking nothing short of smitten. “I’m glad you like me.”

The boy had a talent for sending you off-kilter.

You tugged at the hem of your shapeless one-piece, jerking your head at the wonder of his affection. “I don’t understand why, but I’m glad you like me, too.”

“Don’t make me list the reasons, or we’ll be standing here all day,” he cracked over his shoulder as he rattled his way around an array of hammered-gold cannisters. Lifting each one free of its lid in turn, he peered dubiously into their depths. “I can never remember what’s what, here. You want coffee? Tea? Something else?”

“Just some water, thanks,” you croaked. God, you sounded like shit. Like a frog had taken up permanent residence in your windpipe and insisted on strumming your vocal chords for you. “I’m trying to keep away from caffeinated drinks at the moment.”

“Ah, of course,” Jungkook acknowledged with a click of his fingers. You watched with a vested interest as he rolled up the sleeves of his—indeed, white, and imminently on course for soiling—sweatshirt to oblige you. A succession of dulcet half-murmurs and airy croons drifted past his lips.

Fucking hell, he could sing, too?

“Voice of an angel,” you muttered, more an aside than anything, but the volume of your contemplation was enough for him to hear. With the full weight of his stare pinning you in place, you threw one of your own, much heavier, at the works of Bernini he called legs. “Thighs of a devil.”

Jungkook turned to the sink, a suppressed grin warping the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t realise I was singing.”

“Oh, you didn’t realise you were singing,” you pitched deeper to mimic him. “You just happen to have a voice that explains the immaculate conception, and you didn’t even realise you were using it. I see,” in a mannerism most certainly acquired from Jungkook, your tongue planted itself firmly in your cheek. “It’s not like you were trying to show off for me, anything.”

Whatever danced in the dark depths of Jungkook’s eyes, then, hit your circulatory system like a stimulant. “You’re asking for it,” was his harbinger of a warning.

You drew sullen circles into the countertop, jutting your lip to bait his scrutiny. “For what?”

The devious twitch of his lips was tacit enough. Leaving you to braise in the juices of your own undoing, he returned to the task at hand; your all but forgotten glass of water.

With a flurry of excitement, you pulled objects indiscriminately from the box, not caring where or with how much might you unloaded them. Your attention was better spent elsewhere, namely leering at the prominent veins that scaled Jungkook’s arms like ivy. When you tracked their descent to his generous hands, wet from the faucet, your want for him manifested in a bitten bottom lip.

“What are we making?” Jungkook startled you out of your indecent introspection, catching you on the edge of exposure. His lips curled tellingly. “Something sweet?”

“Something creamy,” was your proposal, steeped in suggestion. For some reason, Jungkook seemed oblivious to the water now surging over the rim of the glass. “I’m thinking a pavlova, because I’ve forgotten a lot of things. Got lots of eggs, though!”

Not a glint of recognition. “I don’t know what that is, either. I’m not doing great today, huh?”

“You’re doing just perfect,” you hushed him, taking the proffered drink. There was about as much clinging to the exterior of the glass as there was inside it. Looking up from the bowels of your emptied box, you affixed a sceptical smirk. “You don’t have an electric whisk, by any chance?”

Jungkook scratched at the back of his head. An imagined itch, to be sure; the gesture another of his wholesomely appealing habits. “Nope. I’m not exactly Gordon Ramsay, I’m sorry to say.”

“Then I’m gonna need your big, strong, man-arms, probably. Beating eggs is fucking exhausting.”

Flipping open the dozen you’d successfully remembered to bring with, you cracked one against the rim of your mixing bowl with a precision and fluidity that impressed Jungkook enough to provoke a gasp.

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen anyone do that except on TV,” he gaped, studying the art of yolk separation in an awed trance. He could catch flies with the amount of air exposure his mouth was getting.

And there he went again, affecting you in the smallest, most trivial of ways.

Teasing him was fast becoming a prized pastime. “You’ve never seen anyone break an egg before, Jungkook? Do you just live on instant ramen, or something?”

The swipe was barely glancing, but he played up the wound with the eyes of a Disney critter. “First of all, yes, I have seen someone break an egg. You know exactly what I meant. And, second of all, this is exactly what I was talking about.”

“What is?” you chuckled, siphoning your fourth egg into the awaiting gloop.

“All the bad things you say are gonna get you into trouble, one day.”

You stilled. That was a very direct attack. So direct, your pussy throbbed in the wake of its impact.

Feigning virtue was always fun. “I have no idea what you mean. I’m just crackin’ some eggs.”

Jungkook’s silhouette loomed closer. “You wanted me to beat something for you?”

Whisk in hand, your knees felt dangerously close to knocking themselves out and rendering you a floor-bound Salmonella risk. Unprepared for this lobbying of impurity, it took you a second longer than you’d prefer to formulate a counterattack. “I’ll need to see how capable you are, first.”

Yeah, not your best.

Jungkook, however, took it as his cue to mold himself to your back, granting your upper arms an explicit squeeze with the hands you were so fucking obsessed with. The sleevelessness of your romper had been a point of internal contention for you in your earlier clothing deliberation, but now it was the most valued of selections. You experienced, unobstructed, the softness of his unmarred palms as they ghosted down your arms’ reach and engulfed your fingers whole. Never had you felt so delicate as you did, then, swallowed in the expanse of his strapping hands.

Decisively, he plucked the implement from your slackening grip and hauled the bowl closer to him. Or you, rather, a little too comfortably wedged between the pressure of his body and the countertop that never asked to be part of this charged exchange. The warm, sturdy enclosure within which Jungkook held you captive tightened when he began whipping the bowl’s contents with a strength that struck you dumb. Like a primitive ape, you fawned over your mate's show of power, because the display was nothing if not to titillate you into a hard, dirty rutting.

And, fuck, you wanted that.

You leered, mesmerised, at the succulent bulge of tendon and vein alike as his hands whisked up a storm, his biceps rhythmically buffeting your shoulders with the effort of the motion. Hot breath met your ear, liquefying your entire being. “How’s this?”

“G-Good,” you couldn’t have given him a more vivid, greener light. All that he did piqued the fierce interest of your every nerve ending. And that was a reality all too apparent in the collecting slick coating the crotch of your panties. You should have been adding some sugar to the eggs around about now, but honestly, who gave a fuck about that anymore? “Until it forms stiff peaks.”

Jungkook pulled the whisk from the mixture to test its consistency, but didn’t return to the task when it proved unsatisfactorily blended. Instead, he dropped the implement into the creamy mess and seized, suddenly, the clothed swell of your breasts, adamant on turning you into a creamy mess, apparently. The switch in intent caught you wholly unawares. Like a boneless fish, you flopped into his built physique, lolling your head against his broad span of shoulder. “Oh, f-fuck.”

The fabric of your one-piece wasn’t the thickest. With impressively able hands, he kneaded you like dough, plying you into a putty that bulged from between the gaps of his wolfish grip. It wasn’t long before you were rising to readiness, a glaze streaking the space between your legs.

Jungkook was priming you for consumption.

His thumbs grazed to and fro over your budding nipples, wakening them to the chafe of your outer layer. “Feel pretty stiff to me,” he practically purred into the nape of your neck, his lips brushing a template of where he would later revisit. “I’d say you’re done.”

And from the burgeoning bulge making known its presence at the crack of your ass, you’d say he was about done, too.

A hand ventured lower, and then higher, as it slid surreptitiously beneath the hem of your shorts. “Do you want me to keep going?” Jungkook near-whispered, pausing his pilgrimage to your saturated cunt. You craned your neck, with some difficulty, to face him. “If you don’t want this today, I can stop.”

A dazed smile. “I want it. Today. Now,” and, bonding your lips in a kiss that should never have been broken on that night on the balcony, the heated, humid rejoining drew a muzzled moan from the both of you. Immersed, again, in the ambrosia of each other’s unfastened mouths, the steady undulation of Jungkook’s jaw as he received you felt as innate as your own heartbeat. How quickly he had attuned himself to your motions, your tempo; and, with a studious tongue, taken such an intimate cast of your mouth, knowing, already, how best to tease whimpers from you. Together you drowned, caught in a sea of saliva and amassed lust. Lust built from weeks of needless principle.

Oh, why had you waited so long, when this was nothing but right?

The potency of your monstrous, reciprocal desire now unleashed, it spurred your hands, your tongues, to paths they were keen to retread.

Jungkook was particularly quick in infiltrating that one part of you that begged for reunion. But despite his haste to submerse his fingertips in your gooey delight, he skimmed the outskirts of your panties with an infuriating lightness. He tore away from the kiss as though scorched. “You’re already this soaked?” he exclaimed, tormented, knocking his forehead to yours like the revelation had physically weakened him. “How are you so fucking sexy, noona?”

“It’s all you,” there was no need for exaggeration. Not when him simply broaching the meagre cotton barrier snatched the neediest of whimpers from you. Feeling his fingertips glide along the curve of your slippery slit, you briefly fretted that spontaneous human combustion may not merely be a myth. Because as he slathered himself with your syrupy, fervent welcome, you swore you were the pyre of a building inferno. “Don’t you dare tease me, Jungkook, you’ve gotten me so fucking horny,” was your urgent warning, coasting close to shrill. “Put those goddamn fingers--that you know I’ve been fantasising about--inside me, already.”

A husky chuckle tickled the nerve endings spanning your shoulders, every centimetre of your skin pining for the touch of his supple mouth. Kisses that he generously gave, but sprinkled chaotically, like he didn’t want to neglect any one part of you. The cupid’s bow that dipped his upper lip assailed you with volleys of heated adoration, riling you into a squirm that only pressed you closer to the tip of his other, drawn, weapon. “You mean, these?”

Oh how easily they sunk into you; two at once, with an immediacy that spoke volumes of Jungkook’s desire to touch the lining of your most sensitive parts. He half-hummed, half-whined his approval for having been re-embedded in the heat and squeeze of a place his cock wished it could inhabit. For now, it was forced to experience your narrow reaches vicariously, through the nubile probing of his fingers. Jungkook was bewitched. “You feel like fucking heaven, fuck.”

His dick twitched impatiently, pressed flush to your backside as it was. And, though cosy in the pressure with which your asscheeks provided, it answered to a higher call, now; your warm, throbbing pussy. You rocked against his languid insertion, more exploratory than possessed by hunger. It seemed Jungkook had become lost to the wonder of your calculated constriction, each tense of muscle prying further open his mouth and eyes. You snickered at his wonderstruck expression. “Never had your fingers this deep in a girl’s pussy, Jungkook?”

“Not one as delicious as this,” he shot back, leaving an aching void in the wake of his exit. Poised to question his knowledge of your taste, he spun you around so you could better view his sampling. He drew the drenched digits to his mouth, their savoury topping bridging the gap between as gooey strings that lit up his eyes in anticipation. As easily as he had buried them in your sopping cunt, he dipped them past the seal of his lips with an agonised crumple to his brow, like he was partaking of some tantalising elixir he’d been forbidden to let touch his tongue. “I knew it,” he murmured thickly, sucking clean his fingers and allowing your essence to titillate his tastebuds. “You taste as good as you smell, and as hot as you look.”

Enthralled by the vision of him drinking from you with all the reverence of a wizened man supping up the Fountain of Youth, the tail-end of his ardent declaration stole your attention enough to tickle you. “I don’t think it’s possible to taste hot? Unless that wasn’t water I showered with earlier, but sriracha,” you teased, slinging your arms haphazardly around his neck. You did so to close the far too vast a distance between your bodies, but, hands upon your ass and subjecting it to a voracious, possessive squeeze, he was already mashing you to him. Your romper may as well have been non-existent for all the dulling of sensation it granted you. When the top of your mound thudded lightly to the rock-hard protrusion reaching for you from behind Jungkook’s jeans, it did nothing to diminish the utter, raw aching the contact inspired.

“Don’t sass me, noona,” the admonishment was stern, but breathless. “Am I gonna have to bend you over my knee?”

Fuck, the suggestion was enticing. Unfortunately, the drooling maw between your legs had no such patience. It demanded gratification. “Not this time, baby. You can punish me all you like later on. Right now, I need your cock,” you cooed, granting its straining outline the coaxing smooth of your palm.

Jungkook stiffened to a rigidity that could rival his dick. “Ugh—I like that,” was his softly moaned encouragement. “Again, please.”

“I haven’t stopped,” a lone brow raised in bemusement. To demonstrate, you increased the pressure you were applying to his captive length, enough friction to have him grinding into your hand like a randy buck.

“N-No, not that—ah,” you stole his gasp with your determined toying. “Well, that too, but—c-call me baby, again.”

Your other brow arched to match. “Oh? You like that, huh?”

Jungkook sobered a little in his self-consciousness. “Yeah,” the arousal that dusted his cheeks deepened into an irresistible scarlet. “I don’t know why, but, man, that hit a note.”

You caught him before he could pull away. “Then I like it too, baby,” the endearment dripped as obscenely from between your lips as the honey from your lower pair. “So fuck me, already.”

The seconds proceeding your demand hung heavy; almost beyond endurance. But then, in slow motion, you witnessed that sudden click; the wildness that pitched Jungkook’s eyes into an all-consuming blackness that entreated you to an amenable doom. The shiver of energy that shifted through him was near palpable; it resonated from the soles of his feet and upward, until, like a carnivore coiled to pounce, he hoisted you with ease onto the countertop.

With a vulgar smack, the backs of your thighs collided with solid oak, and, God, did you wish you’d taken up his earlier offer of some disciplining. The sting would tingle all the more beautifully for having been dispensed by his hefty palm. “You don’t need to ask me twice, noona,” he puffed, excitement rather than exertion stealing his breath. “I’ll give you the fucking you so desperately crave.”

Jungkook’s arms encased your torso, sheltering your heart better than the ribcage that so freely allowed Taehyung to penetrate. “Whoa,” you hiccupped, steadying yourself with a grasp that landed, fortuitously, on his tautened biceps. They shifted excitably beneath your hands. “What are you gonna do with me?”

Legs free and sprawling, you welcomed him into the space between with an invitation written in your tongue’s ink, blotting his girthy neck with saliva.

An invitation he accepted wholeheartedly.

With an appreciative grunt, the mass of his body bore down on and nearly—oh, so nearly—inside you, dancing on the fringes.

You wanted him to invade you, claim and repurpose you. Dismantle your design; one so sorely built in error.

You would no longer be his, but Jungkook’s.

“So, so many things. But, first, I’m gonna give your pussy the beating it deserves,” he leered over you all stone-cold assertiveness, and you shrunk beneath his emanating power, both gut-squirmingly aroused and intimidated by the absence of the usual fumbled words and averted gazes.

He must have been practicing, you mused inwardly, allowing him this momentary victory over you with a sufficiently servile, doe-eyed pout. “Are you gonna let me see your pretty co—oh, fuck!” your yelp was consumed by a hacking cough, when one, misplaced hand catapulted the box whose only remaining contents consisted of the powdery residue left by your battered bag of flour. Your life, never having run the smoothest course, hit you with the timeliest derailments. This one presented itself as a billowy cloud that powdered most of you ghoulishly white. “Oh, God, look at me.”

Jungkook, who escaped relatively unscathed despite his proximity, cackled openly at your misfortune. But he didn’t surrender his hold of you; not even for a second. He only pulled you closer, marring himself to match. “You could be covered in anything right now and I would still be desperate to fuck you,” he stressed with a bow of his head, charting the topography of your sprinkled cleavage with a hot, open mouth, reducing the offending powder—and you, with every enthused flick of his tongue—to a streaky, viscous sludge. “You taste just as good when you’re a little salty.”

You wrinkled your nose at his willingness to ingest meal. “I guess you want this pretty bad, baby.”

Jungkook’s head shot up like he’d been conditioned into uninhibition on that one word’s command. “So bad,” he virtually snarled, scrambling to undress. Endowing you with your first, unfiltered view of his honed build, he yanked his sweatshirt free of his body, latching a smouldering gaze to you as soon as the obstruction was tossed aside. “Before you covered yourself in flour, I thought I heard a request?”

Your eyes trickled freely down his slopes of definition, steered into the trap that was Jungkook’s sublime anatomy. Cut, bronzed abs and a whisper of hair lay breadcrumbs to an outcropping so stark you could hang something off it.

Hopefully you.

“You know what I want,” your tongue painted the outline of your lips as he unbuckled and whipped off his belt with a crack that had your cunt quivering for the lashings of its master’s crop.

“Tell me again,” Jungkook barely breathed, peeling down the zipper of his pants at a pace that was far too leisurely for your liking.

“You’re getting a bit too bossy for your own good,” you cautioned, though the substance of your warning disintegrated upon each, agitated breath.

Clearly, it was for your own good.

Jungkook’s fingers fell away from his front. “Tell me again,” he reiterated firmly.

How effortlessly he flitted between subservience and indubitable control. Hopefully the thorough flouring you’d sustained would stave off the likelihood of you completely adhering to his countertop in your current, sodden state.

The thrum of your clitoris compelled you into compliance. “Please, let me see your cock.”

A triumphant smirk sharpened his features. “That’s my good girl,” he hummed, tugging his boxers down enough to allow it to topple into his awaiting palm like a freshly felled tree. Reality was far more generous to him than the feeble fantasies you’d concocted, with increasing frequency, the last few weeks. His arms weren’t the only appendages lovingly wrapped by veins, green and blue; powerlines supplying the monster that would soon be hollowing you.

Its perfectly pink head enraptured you. “God, you’re so hot—way too hot. I’m so fucking wet, Jungkook, you know I am. I’m so ready,” the sight of his fleshy offering stirred you into near-frenzy. So much so, you grasped for him without pretence; no longer did you possess the constitution to play ruler. “Fuck me, please.”

Jungkook’s calculated façade slipped when confronted with such raw need. He was on you before you could blink, inhaling you into a soul-sucking kiss that saw his tongue tickling the threshold to your throat. Was it possible to swallow and choke on someone else’s tongue?

If so, you gladly would.

He must have been in some state of severe desperation, because Jungkook spared no thought for your poor, flimsy romper as he yanked sharply at your shorts, inadvertently flossing your cunt with the seams. It should have been painful, in theory, and yet the angling strummed your clit to the tune of your resultant, yearnful moans. With a fistful of fabric, he paused suddenly, confused both by your fervid feedback and the stubborn garment that still adorned your body. “What the hell is this thing? Shorts? I thought it was a skirt,” his voice pitched with an adorable curiosity.

Yes, even now, cock out and teeming with pre-cum, he was adorable.

Tongue pinched between teeth, you giggled. “Yeah, and it’s all one thing. Gonna have to take it off in one go.”

With that, you sat straight, teasing two sets of straps down the round of your shoulders. Jungkook was your besotted audience of one, engrossed in your seductive shedding. His chest expanded with a sharp intake of breath when your bra peeled away from your breasts, tips painfully taut from his earlier bullying. “God,” was his succinct, but cock-felt response. And, sure enough, he watched the show unfold with a white-knuckled clench around said cock, spreading its drool the length of it through each your stages of undress.

Unclasping your bra with a fluidity born from nearly three decades of suffering the damned things, you threw the unwelcome item of clothing over Jungkook’s fruit bowl. And, with a jerk of your hips, disrobed yourself of what remained of your layers soon after—including a misguided choice in panties. In fairness, you’d hardly – having been wallowing in the depths of despair not an hour ago – been expecting his scrutiny. Not while you were spread-eagle and, with your fore and middle fingers scissoring the hood of your clit, beckoning him with your pussy like a wanton wench.

You eyed his vigorous pumping of his dick and tutted. “Baby, slow down. Are you that excited?”

Jungkook grunted past the lip caught between his teeth. “Fuck, yes. Ugh—” his gaze was unshakably fixed to the trail that oozed from your tender interior. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, the utterance barely audible above the mouth-watering shlip of his rhythmic movements. Whether his comment had been for your ears, you didn’t know. But your confidence ballooned exponentially, banishing the skulk of inadequacy that had intermittently threatened your enjoyment.

Hooded eyes flew wide. “Wait,” Jungkook panted, stalling his overzealous strokes. “I-I don’t have a condom, I didn’t think—oh, no.”

Wow. He really had left this decision entirely in your hands, hadn’t he? Your abdomen crawled with a warmth not possessed of arousal. “I do,” you assured him, pointing to your purse. “In there.”

“Thank you, Jesus,�� he muttered, shoulders sagging for the relief of your divulgement. “And you, of course,” was his snort of an aside as he pulled the accessory to him and rifled, behind thinly-veiled excitement, through its compartments. “Aha.”

It relieved you endlessly to witness him tear open the packet with his fingers, rather than his teeth. Every man you’d ever bedded that had been a teeth-tearer, had, without fail, vastly overestimated their sexual prowess. Jungkook’s concentrated fumbling only made your heart more buoyant. “Let me?”

He couldn’t have moved fast enough. Surrendering the wrapper immediately, he observed keenly, how adept you were at removing it. It could have been candy inside for all the pre-cum his dick was salivating, eager to don the sheathe that would allow him access to the sultry stretches of your vagina.

With a practiced pinch of the tip, you wrapped him from end to base in one soft, sweeping motion, never quite allowing him the gratification of a firm grip. He squirmed nonetheless, ostensibly overcome by both the feeling and realisation of having your touch grace his—very nearly—bare cock. “I wish you could fuck me raw,” you grumbled, never having been too fond of the taste or texture of latex, nor the hindrance it posed when all you wanted was to fully appreciate his silken skin as it caressed your insides.

That was, perhaps, the most provocative thing you could have said in that moment. Because Jungkook snapped to you like he was impelled by magnetic forces and, with a squeak of flesh on wood, pulled you to the very edge. The angered tip of his cock hovered directly beneath, inciting you to your grisly end by impalement. “Don’t say that to me right now, noona, or I won’t even survive putting it in. Jesus,” he ran splayed hands over the planes of your thighs, and thumbs along the pulse points that gushed, with urgency, to provide oxygen to parts of you that were fast becoming deprived.

“I’ll let you fill me right up one day,” you teased, hooking a leg around his waist and bringing your throbbing genitals into closer proximity. “But I won’t tell you when. I’ll just pull it off and shove you back in when you least exp—ungh!”

Jungkook silenced you with a hungry bruising of lips and teeth, delving his fingers into your backside to better guide you to the beacon that, now, stood sentinel between the seam of your pussy’s lips, coating itself in your plentiful excretions. He wrenched himself free of your oral dalliance. “Ready?”

As if your entire body wasn’t crying out for his fullness. God, you’d never experienced such a haunting ache between your legs. “I’ve been ready since date one, and failed date three is the extent of my self-control. Hurry, baby.”

And with a smooth rock of his hips, he eased his way past your slit and into the clamp of your unaccustomed cunt. The sharpness of penetration pushed a gasp from you, halting him immediately. “Are you okay?” he whispered to your lips, tracing each syllable with his hovering mouth.

You were okay.

More than.

Beyond okay.

It was formidable, the intensity of this moment. Skin-on-skin, simmering under a sheen of perspiration; the intimate, reassuring canopy of Jungkook’s weight, anchoring you to reality.

And you needed that anchor, when it was nothing but an unreality that you were melding, after so long, with a man who returned your ardour. A man who pursued you, who desired you, who embraced you without pretence.

That first stab let flow months of unprocessed, pent-up loneliness and desire for companionship. For sexual affinity.

And as he bled you of pain, all that remained was a strengthening, terrifying appetite, brewing in the pit of your being. With an exuberant smile, you cupped the sides of his face. “I’ve never been better.”

Coaxed by the sincerity of your own words, you laxed around your gradual accommodation of Jungkook’s cock, permitting him to share your body; to become the vessel for his enjoyment. He gave in to the pull of your suckling pussy, a breath he had long been holding rushing free to flutter the wisps of hair around your face that had abandoned their hastily styled arrangement. And though it seemed to pain him, Jungkook steadfastly maintained the quiet, intimate exchange that passed between your torpid gazes. As consumed of lust as they were, the darkness that swallowed his eyes was not that same, meaningless, matte void you had seen stare back at you, time and time again. There glimmered, like an uncharted nebula, thousands of stars.

And every one bore your name; shone to be seen by you.

Jungkook allowed you that glimpse of tender emotion before body overrode heart. He pressed welts into your asscheeks with his boisterous grappling. “Noona—God—you’re so tight.”

And you felt it, too; how you hugged him so inflexibly. Your walls spread, burned around the circumference of his cock, hewn wider by Jungkook’s measured descension to your core. The tip of his member brushed conciliatory kisses to your softest spots as it passed, mitigating what little discomfort there still remained.

And soon, there was none.

Soon, each, sunken inch of him induced only the most moreish, pleasing of sensations.

Jungkook’s sculpted abdomen, drawn tightly under the burden of moderation, pressed flat to your mound as you enveloped his full length. You writhed, feeling his mass so perfectly planted within you. “I-It’s been a long while,” your voice was more air than sound, the feeble, soft noise summoning his mouth to provide your own succour.

A few sprawling, desperate seconds later he broke away, though his impression lingered upon your smooch-swollen lips. Despite the visible trembling of his arms, he kept his tone considerately even. “Let me know when, ____.”

Even now, even lodged so deep that his balls kissed at your crammed core, he put you first.

“Now, Jungkook. Now,” you urged, trapping him in a vice of thighs. “F-Fuck me, I’m ready.”

And he did.

Instinct overruled cognition with a hasty, acute snap of his hips. From the very outset he set a hurried, frenzied pace that saw him transform from the attentive man you so treasured, to a rapt beast heeding the call of a pleasure that could only be found at your centre. A centre he plunged with abandon, tapping you for a completion he was racing startlingly fast towards. “A-ah, noona, I—fuck, you’re perfect, you feel so good,” he gushed unfiltered, your clenching pussy torturing him into the most candid of outpourings. His fingertips dug with such resolve into your ass, it felt like he could tear away flesh.

“B-Baby,” you began, but a raucous groan burst forth from him at your weaponization of the term, striking him at his most vulnerable.

He was gone.

Immersed, so deeply, both in your cunt and the effort he was expending to pound himself into its limits, your provocation only served to accelerate his harried thrusting to a dizzying tempo. The furious pacing was nothing but sweet, sweet violence; your plastered, swelling pussy and endless caterwauling was an attestation to that. Each thunderous clap of your flesh battered your clit to inflammation; a willing casualty of the pummelling he was subjecting you to. “You’re fucking me so good, d-don’t stop, oh!—”

With an ear-sundering squeak, he slid you from the breakfast bar and onto the burly shelf of his stiffened forearm, the other more tenderly employed to cradle your waist. In his strong, resolute hold, he suspended you from the floor, legs dangling, as he continued fuck up into you with admirable determination. And though you were quick to ease his burden somewhat by encircling him with your legs, he then began to stagger away from your previous perch. His intended path was unclear, more-so as you ricocheted from countertop to countertop, entwined and blind in a kiss so sloppy you almost missed mouths, drawing the vicinity of your lips into a maelstrom of tongue and saliva.

With the grating crash of unseated pots and pans, Jungkook drove you to the wall, plastering you onto the decor with the momentum of his pussy-rending pistoning. How he was able to maintain such a potent, jarring rhythm despite the strain of your added weight was an absolute mystery, and one you were only sad you were unable to witness in the rippled strain of his muscular thighs.

“O-Oh God, I don’t think I can last much longer,” he whined, the centre of his face crinkling into agony. “I’m already so close, I’m s-sorry—you’re just so—so fucking—ungh!”

An orgasm would’ve been lovely— okay, that was an understatement— but unanticipated. First encounters were often desperate, grasping tussles that lacked the longevity and attention you required to get you there. And yet, this was the first time it hadn’t bothered you. Ushering Jungkook to nirvana was euphoria enough for this cursory experience. It was a gift you wholeheartedly gave to a man who put you first in all things. And, given time, would master your body enough to pay you back tenfold. With a gentle brush of his cheek, you prompted his unfocused attention. “Don’t worry about me. You’re gonna make up for it later, aren’t you?”

Jungkook loudly moaned his affirmation. “F-fuck, yes. I’m gonna worship your pussy, noona. Just wait,” a series of harsh, broken thrusts was his endorsement. The drag and draw of his rigid cock was so smooth, now, so lubricated by a unified ecstasy, that it truly felt like he belonged. Like he was a part long missing from your malfunctioning machinery, well-oiled and barrelling into you to fulfil a function you’d never quite known.

And now you knew.

“Are you gonna dirty my pussy, baby?” you purred the salacious incitement into his ear to feel him flounder. And, boy, did he. The targeted battering he’d been unleashing on you stuttered to an erratic, madcap blindfiring that struck you in places that you would be sure to tell him to focus on later. A jagged rasp of a moan bruised your vocal chords. “J-Jungkook, f-fuck, fill me! I wish I could feel you fill me, want my pussy full of your cum—”

“Agh!” he spat the strangled response from behind a clenched jaw, your body drooping in increments as his knees quaked from the stress. With a surge of decisive strength, he hauled you up and flopped you onto the dining table directly behind, the surface lower in height than where your entanglement first began and allowing him the unhindered scope of your nude vista. Forfeit of decency for being so deep within you, his eyes dwindled on the hypnotic spring of your breasts, fuelling a passion that raged toward combustion. “I-I’m gonna come, noona, I’m so close—God, how are you so fucking gorgeous—”

With one, final, fatal squeeze of your vagina, you bought him a one-way ticket to his end. A last gasp of breath and the indistinct blurring of his hips saw Jungkook through a climax that thrashed him with such intensity that he no longer appeared conscious of the grip he had of your waist. It tightened as painfully as the vicelike restriction that tormented his cock, and his thumbs delved so far into the supple flesh of your tummy it felt like he was palpating you for medical examination.

“F-Fuck, yeah, oh, noona, yes—” he shouted with such vehemence you became conscious of the existence of his neighbours. That thought was fleeting, however, in the literal face of Jungkook, stubbornly grinding every drop of himself into the true recipient you both begrudgingly permitted to participate. And though the condom, surely, dulled his – and your, because you couldn’t think of anything more soul-rendingly erotic than him emptying the scorching contents of his balls into you – enjoyment somewhat, you were an awed spectator to the seraphic beauty of his bliss. Features free of anything but a meditative placidity, Jungkook, with every whoosh of expelled breath, looked a traverser of Elysium’s peaks.

“Wow,” you chuckled, rosy-cheeked and more serene than you could ever remember feeling. “You still in there?”

Jungkook’s eyes peeled open, black as night. With him fucked-out and flying, you were better able to access the rawness of him through the dilated pools that stared back at you.

A secret, there, seemed so within reach—

“Only just,” he panted, each word ousted from lungs devoid of breath. “God. I’m just—wow. I lo—I mean, you were amazing.”

You sat up to take his face into your hands – hands that craved him still. “I barely did anything. You rocked my world and I came along for the ride,” Jungkook slipped his wilting cock from you, the desolate chasm it left in its wake soliciting a gloomy pout. “I don’t want you to leave. You feel so good inside me.”

He held the softening appendage in his palm, eyeballing the abundance of cum he’d soiled its latex prison with. “Jesus,” he breathed, flashing you an impish grin. “I submit this as evidence that I also feel really, really, fucking good inside you.”

“More, please?” you simpered, prying wide your legs to tempt him into another round. “I’m hungry for your cock, still.”

Jungkook was enthralled by the ruddied, slobbering sight. His sagging dick heaved a determined breath, levitating precariously from his palm. “Fucking hell,” he threw an anguished look towards the bathroom. “I’ll give you as much cock as you want, noona. But I need to take this off, first. Let’s take a shower, and then—well. I promised you something, didn’t I?”

Your eyes may as well have lit up with jackpot signs. “You’re gonna worship my pussy?”

“I’ll do more than that,” he vowed, stalking away to the bathroom with an urgency to his gait. “I’ll get the shower going.”

Watching his chiselled backside leave was a perk in itself. You were definitely going to bite it at least once in your future tumbles together.

In his absence, you evaluated the trail of destruction your frantic fucking had wraught. As his guest - and the lucky recipient of said fucking - you felt compelled to straighten the place to the best of your ability. You spotted your purse first, dusted with flour, and patted off the excess that stubbornly clung to its exterior, inadvertently dislodging your phone from its compartment. Quite against expectations, you caught the sleek object before it could clatter to the floor and ruin your week, and with a relieved sigh and a habitual click, began mindlessly scrolling through a day’s accumulation of unnoteworthy notifications. In the midst of the unexceptional, Yoongi’s name popped out at you.

[15:33] Yoongi I don’t know if you have already, but can you talk to Taehyung, please?

Your stomach bungeed to your feet.

No.

Not now.

Please.

[15:34] Yoongi I can’t get hold of him since he told me the news.

Oh, God. What news?

Had he really disclosed the grisly details of that catastrophic evening to Yoongi?

[15:34] Yoongi You know he broke up with Tara, right?

Oh.

Next: 10 || WYLEI Masterlist

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