#one degree is more than enough. you don't need two. you certainly don't need two and a half (i'm in a nondegree program)

[mixtapedoh]

and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of maltese puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

[autisticandroids]

i've been seeing ai takes that i actually agree with and have been saying for months get notes so i want to throw my hat into the ring.

so i think there are two main distinct problems with "ai," which exist kind of in opposition to each other. the first happens when ai is good at what it's supposed to do, and the second happens when it's bad at it.

the first is well-exemplified by ai visual art. now, there are a lot of arguments about the quality of ai visual art, about how it's soulless, or cliche, or whatever, and to those i say: do you think ai art is going to be replacing monet and picasso? do you think those pieces are going in museums? no. they are going to be replacing soulless dreck like corporate logos, the sprites for low-rent edugames, and book covers with that stupid cartoon art style made in canva. the kind of art that everyone thinks of as soulless and worthless anyway. the kind of art that keeps people with art degrees actually employed.

this is a problem of automation. while ai art certainly has its flaws and failings, the main issue with it is that it's good enough to replace crap art that no one does by choice. which is a problem of capitalism. in a society where people don't have to sell their labor to survive, machines performing labor more efficiently so humans don't have to is a boon! this is i think more obviously true for, like, manufacturing than for art - nobody wants to be the guy putting eyelets in shoes all day, and everybody needs shoes, whereas a lot of people want to draw their whole lives, and nobody needs visual art (not the way they need shoes) - but i think that it's still true that in a perfect world, ai art would be a net boon, because giving people without the skill to actually draw the ability to visualize the things they see inside their head is... good? wider access to beauty and the ability to create it is good? it's not necessary, it's not vital, but it is cool. the issue is that we live in a society where that also takes food out of people's mouths.

but the second problem is the much scarier one, imo, and it's what happens when ai is bad. in the current discourse, that's exemplified by chatgpt and other large language models. as much hand-wringing as there has been about chatgpt replacing writers, it's much worse at imitating human-written text than, say, midjourney is at imitating human-made art. it can imitate style well, which means that it can successfully replace text that has no meaningful semantic content - cover letters, online ads, clickbait articles, the kind of stuff that says nothing and exists to exist. but because it can't evaluate what's true, or even keep straight what it said thirty seconds ago, it can't meaningfully replace a human writer. it will honestly probably never be able to unless they change how they train it, because the way LLMs work is so antithetical to how language and writing actually works.

the issue is that people think it can. which means they use it to do stuff it's not equipped for. at best, what you end up with is a lot of very poorly written children's books selling on amazon for $3. this is a shitty scam, but is mostly harmless. the behind the bastards episode on this has a pretty solid description of what that looks like right now, although they also do a lot of pretty pointless fearmongering about the death of art and the death of media literacy and saving the children. (incidentally, the "comics" described demonstrate the ways in which ai art has the same weaknesses as ai text - both are incapable of consistency or narrative. it's just that visual art doesn't necessarily need those things to be useful as art, and text (often) does). like, overall, the existence of these kids book scams are bad? but they're a gnat bite.

to find the worst case scenario of LLM misuse, you don't even have to leave the amazon kindle section. you don't even have to stop looking at scam books. all you have to do is change from looking at kids books to foraging guides. i'm not exaggerating when i say that in terms of texts whose factuality has direct consequences, foraging guides are up there with building safety regulations. if a foraging guide has incorrect information in it, people who use that foraging guide will die. that's all there is to it. there is no antidote to amanita phalloides poisoning, only supportive care, and even if you survive, you will need a liver transplant.

the problem here is that sometimes it's important for text to be factually accurate. openart isn't marketed as photographic software, and even though people do use it to lie, they have also been using photoshop to do that for decades, and before that it was scissors and paintbrushes. chatgpt and its ilk are sometimes marketed as fact-finding software, search engine assistants and writing assistants. and this is dangerous. because while people have been lying intentionally for decades, the level of misinformation potentially provided by chatgpt is unprecedented. and then there are people like the foraging book scammers who aren't lying on purpose, but rather not caring about the truth content of their output. obviously this happens in real life - the kids book scam i mentioned earlier is just an update of a non-ai scam involving ghostwriters - but it's much easier to pull off, and unlike lying for personal gain, which will always happen no matter how difficult it is, lying out of laziness is motivated by, well, the ease of the lie.* if it takes fifteen minutes and a chatgpt account to pump out fake foraging books for a quick buck, people will do it.

*also part of this is how easy it is to make things look like high effort professional content - people who are lying out of laziness often do it in ways that are obviously identifiable, and LLMs might make it easier to pass basic professionalism scans.

and honestly i don't think LLMs are the biggest problem that machine learning/ai creates here. while the ai foraging books are, well, really, really bad, most of the problem content generated by chatgpt is more on the level of scam children's books. the entire time that the internet has been shitting itself about ai art and LLM's i've been pulling my hair out about the kinds of priorities people have, because corporations have been using ai to sort the resumes of job applicants for years, and it turns out the ai is racist. there are all sorts of ways machine learning algorithms have been integrated into daily life over the past decade: predictive policing, self-driving cars, and even the youtube algorithm. and all of these are much more dangerous (in most cases) than chatgpt. it makes me insane that just because ai art and LLMs happen to touch on things that most internet users are familiar with the working of, people are freaking out about it because it's the death of art or whatever, when they should have been freaking out about the robot telling the cops to kick people's faces in.

(not to mention the environmental impact of all this crap.)

[max1461]

I think something that many people of the high-modern bent (leftists, rationalists, etc.) tend to forget when they talk about society is this: many people (I would conjecture, most people) are not hedonists, either in philosophy or practice. There exist many things which people value inherently, above and beyond the capacity of those things to produce pleasure.

One ready-to-mind example is morality: people will often sacrifice their happiness significantly to do what they believe is right. If they happen to have a hedonist ethics, then we might say that they're still trying to maximize net pleasure overall, but if they don't have a hedonist ethics this is certainly not the case. They might, for instance, have a virtue ethics or a deontological ethics, and make great sacrifices to their own happiness in order to behave in a way they believe is just.

The above example is, I think, a special case of a broader class of example, whereby people make sacrifices to their own happiness in order to embody their ideal self. If your ideal self is very skilled at something, you may forgo a great deal of pleasure in pursuit of that skill. Think if Olympic athletes, who I frankly doubt tend to recoup the total lost pleasure of all the strict dieting and regimented lifestyle and so on via the pleasure they get from training and competing. Think of anyone who makes great personal sacrifices for achievement. Or think of the tortured artist, the virtual archetype of a person who cares more about the quality of their work than their own wellbeing. But cases need not be so extreme: I can think of many people who I would consider normal, healthy, happy individuals, who just happen to be a little competitive, and who I suspect are not pleasure-maximizing by spending so much time practicing at their skill of choice. Am I meant to tell them they are wrong for doing this?

There is a tendency in contemporary society to pathologize this way of interacting with the world, even among people who don't conceptualize themselves as hedonists, but I reject the idea that it is something to be avoided. I myself value my own pleasure, of course, and other people's pleasure too. But I also value things above and beyond the degree to which they give me pleasure: I value knowledge, I value success at my endeavors, I value aesthetics, I value the wellbeing of my friends and loved ones. All of these things I would gladly sacrifice some amount of net pleasure to advance. It is furthermore the case that I have been happiest in life, experienced the most pleasurable existence, when I have felt that I was successfully advancing these goals. It is possibly the case that I could experience more net pleasure by abandoning these goals and totally changing who I am (through, perhaps we can imagine, some sort of brainwashing), but I would of course be vehemently opposed to this. And so it is notable that maximizing satisfaction of my non-hedonic goals is also the state which achieves the local maximum of pleasure. Anything greater would involve greater changes to my psyche—wireheading, in short. I think this too is true of many people.

Anyway, I'm not a utilitarian (for mostly nitpicky philosophical reasons), but to a first approximation I am a preference utilitarian. To me, acting justly towards someone means working to make it that their preferences are satisfied in addition to your own, in some sort of appropriate balance where the two conflict. This is not, to a first approximation, hedonic utilitarianism, which differs obviously in how it handles wireheading but which I think also disagrees in more nearterm ways, like (perhaps) "whether we should pathologize highly competitive people" and so on.

Anyway, if you are a local high-modernist dreamer (affectionate) (self-recognizing), and you find me on your post grumbling about something, I think there's about an 80% chance that something amounts to "not preference utilitarian enough!". Or whatever.

[nihilnovisubsole]

Because of your latest post: not sure if you’ve answered this before, but how does someone even entertain the idea of writing for the game dev industry? Did you start out on indie games or just write before and show them your work? Since it’s such a subjective field etc

if i have, it bears repeating! here's a rough timeline of what i did. never discount the value of luck and the kindness of friends

2016: i was doing a random freelance transcription job when i saw @theivorytowercrumbles post about writing for voltage. they reblogged the studio's open casting call for new writers. since it was so lenient - no experience, fanfic samples allowed - i applied. they hired me for their new project, but let me go after a trial period, citing that the tone of my writing was a bad fit for that game. i foundered for a while after that. i don't take rejection well. i started dangerous crowns to try to make money from writing some other way.

2017: one of voltage's producers reached out to me and said they'd started another project that i was a good fit for. she felt letting me go was a mistake and wanted to snap me back up. i said yes, i mean, are you kidding? so i started on reiner's route.

2018-2019: i kept at it. i took on diego's route. it occurred to me that i wasn't making very much money, but i liked my coworkers, and i was building my portfolio, so who cared? i also finished dangerous crowns, and a handful of people bought it, but certainly not enough to support myself or anything.

early 2020: between the pay and creative differences with voltage's team, it started to sink in that i needed to find other work. i applied to the few open game writer jobs i could find, but with only mobile romance in my portfolio, i got nowhere. i threw in dangerous crowns samples. i tried to network on twitter. i still never made it to the interview phase. i foundered for a while again.

late 2020: the voltage writers went on strike. i gave a statement to a journalist that one of obsidian's narrative designers noticed. we became acquaintances over it. another old friend of mine threw me a life raft in the form of a different contract, better paying, on a non-romance indie game. i took it gladly. i added a twine game to my portfolio, too. i kept applying. i got a few interviews, but something still didn't click.

2021: i finally accepted that i needed formal help. i did a portfolio workshop. i got resume coaching. the coach passed my name to a writer on the company of heroes team. they liked me! they also paid me more money than i'd ever seen in my life. at the same time, obsidian advertised a narrative job opening. i applied on a lark and let my ND pal know i was doing so. why not, right? college-new-vegas-fan me would want me to. they rejected me, but not before i passed their writing test and two interviews. i had nothing to lose at that point, so i told my ND pal that i was bummed. she gave me a golden piece of advice: "you came really close. try again."

2022: obsidian had another narrative opening. i threw myself at it. i was now going to annoy them into hiring me. since i was a known quantity from applying six months before, they had no qualms about interviewing me again. this time, it worked out, and i've been there ever since.

what's the common denominator here? i met people who thought i was all right and gave me a hand up when i needed it. the standard advice is to work with a community of your peers instead of trying to get your heroes to senpai-notice you. it's not that they don't care - they just have their own thing going on, and your peers could be the heroes of tomorrow if the right project comes along. i also found the portfolio was the end-all-be-all when it came to job hunting. i went through a grieving process with that! i'm not afraid to admit it. i wish studios had held my degree or dangerous crowns in higher regard, but i just had to make games in a wider variety of genres, and that was that.

one caveat: narrative is a really saturated field right now. a lot of people want to write, and there aren't many openings. it's not uncommon for big studios to get hundreds of applicants. larian probably got over a thousand for the job they posted recently. i feel awful saying that, because i don't want to discourage you, but i'd feel worse if i didn't let you know what you were getting into. if it's something you want, you should try! keep an open mind about the random projects you may find. you never know where they'll take you.

[gl1tch3doracle]

can we get a yoru x f/non-binary reader which doesn't end with the reader getting turned into a weapon (also with a little asa sprinkled in)

Love Yoru and Asa, but I dunno how much romance is actually in this thing. It's pretty long compared to my usual word count, so I don't know how spread out it could be or if things are rushed.

Anyway...

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Conflict of Interests ˖ ࣪⊹

Love Asa and Yoru and imo both need more love, but specifically Yoru.

➸ Yoru + !Neutral!Reader, Asa + !Neutral!Reader

➸ Word count; 3849 words,

➸ Warnings for gore, because this is CSM and it's Yoru. No spoilers (that I know of)

➸ Aside from the gore, I don't believe there are any other content warnings either. Don't know how well this flows because none of my work is beta read and I was also losing motivation by the end of this because I cranked this out in about two or three hours.

All things considered, you were adapting to your new life in Japan pretty well. At least, it felt like it.

Communication wasn't an issue, which was a relief - Neither was money, but your biggest problem so far was being directionally challenged. It complicated your routine to the utmost degree, and what was supposed to be a simple shopping trip had taken more than three hours because somewhere along the way you'd taken a wrong turn. Which was why, in your current moment, you were wandering aimlessly around the backstreets of Kyoto, meandering closely to the nearby high school. Silent as it was at the current hour, it still felt weird knowing that if you never left home, you'd probably be stuck in a building like that for hours on end.

You weren't though, and you were also lost. Which seriously wasn't fun, especially when you had a younger brother at home left unsupervised.

What was even less fun, though, (besides the thought of a rouge twelve-year-old boy) was the lack of people around you. Sure it was late, school was finished and the teenagers had cleared the food stalls and vendors and had already gone home, but it wasn't late enough that people would be tucking up in their homes already. The sun was still peaked beyond the horizon, casting pale light amok the city - The streetlights weren't even on yet, and yet the roads were emptier than a bucket with a hole in the bottom.

You weren't sure if that should make you feel relieved, or even more anxious than you already were.

Your first thought was a devil attack. They were common enough, and although the living embodiments of fear preferred more public areas (more fear to feed on, you assumed?) that didn't mean the weaker devils didn't slink around alleys like shifty cats when the darkness fell. And it was that thought exactly that kept you from calling out for help.

It was certainly a nerve-wracking thought, that was for sure, and a part of your new life that you weren't ever sure you were going to get used to. At least back home, devil attacks weren't nearly as common as they were 'round the streets of Kyoto. Sure, you'd go through attack drills like any other school, but luckily for you, you'd never had the misfortune of meeting one face-to-face on the streets. You couldn't even imagine the pure terror you might feel in that scenario - The pungent fear, the visceral pounding of your heart in your ears, the fight-or-flight instinct failing to kick in, maybe even the sickening, cloying stench of iron blood swarming your nose-

Huh. That wasn't good.

That sickly sweet, cloying iron scent of blood was swarming your nose.

You froze, rounding the corner, feet rooted to the ground. You almost flinched at the wet squelch that met your shoe instead of the steady tap against worn, greening concrete. Didn't have to look down to know that pools of blood were lapping seamlessly on your brand-new shoes. You didn't know what made you wince more, the price of the now ruined shoes, or the feeling of pungent fear that struck you at the unsightly view of bulging intestines flung around the wider street in front of you.

Gross - Disgusting. There was no immediate threat, you deduced after a second or two of not being attacked. No, the devil that made this mess (inadvertently or otherwise) was sprawled in the middle of the street, gangly, twisted, fuzzy and bulbous body blocking the road like the world's most horrific barricade. It wasn't moving, fur clogged with blood and flesh and guts only wavered with the faint breeze, but its sides didn't heave like it was breathing, although you weren't entirely certain that devils had to breathe. 'It could still be a trap' Was the thought that bullied its way to the forefront of your mind, and yet you still couldn't find it in yourself to move.

For the first time in what had to be a good long while since you'd left the store, you saw someone else. At first, your heart froze as the bee-like body of the devil shuddered and shook - It rolled onto its side, spilling more of its entrails onto the path. They slithered up to you sluggishly, like a trash heap toppling over, but the insectile face filled with jagged and snaggled teeth was blank as ever. There was no life behind those eyes, but you were more focused on the girl who'd effortlessly posed herself atop the body of the beast.

She wore a school uniform, you noticed, paired with an otherworldly cutlass held firmly in her right hand. The world around the two of you was eerily silent, ear-splitting and ringing in your mind. You clutched your bags a little tighter, the plastic crinkling, rustling ever so slightly in your fist.

The hunter whipped around to face you - She couldn't have been much older than you, but her darker hair framed her face fiercely, fire-ringed eyes glaring you down with such hostility that it almost gave you whiplash. She didn't budge from her spot, but her shoulders drew up tightly as she held her weapon in front of her defensively.

You just blinked - The smell of blood wasn't as pungent as when it first hit you, settling over you like a blanket. You just lifted your shirt, covering your nose as you waved the brooding, mysterious and most likely murderous stranger over to you. From where you stood, you could see the way she froze, face twisting from a scowl into confusion, before the crisscrossing scars on her face literally melted into her own skin, leaving her in perfect condition.

The sword clattered mutely against what looked like a misshapen lung, and the girl set her foot down firmly against the joint of a broken leg. It gave out immediately, and you could only watch as she yelped and tumbled haphazardly from the corpse into a pool of blood. The aura she'd been carrying up until that moment disappeared the second she looked up at you again. Her eyes no longer glowed like red-hot embers, mellow brown eyes looking nothing but defeated.

She shook herself once and heaved herself to her feet, shuffling over to your relatively clear patch on the fringe of carnage.

"Hello?" Her voice cracked awkwardly. You couldn't help but purse your lips sympathetically.

"Hey," You began, reaching into your pocket. Just your luck that you had a clean packet of tissues packed. "I was just wondering how to get back to the main road. I'm new to the area, and I'm kinda lost."

You offered her the tissues, and it looked like she was about ready to cry at the gesture.

"Oh, uh, sure. I could walk you," She froze, dabbing the blood from her cheek, "-only cause I also need to walk that way," Her face pulled into a grimace, and she subtly flinched as if someone was poking fun at her. She opened her mouth a few times, gaping like a fish before her face flushed red. Without another word, she hurried around the corner you'd just rounded, and you just followed without another word.

She didn't talk, never glanced in your direction to see if you were following her. You didn't mind, though, because you were just happy to see life slowly returning around you - Moreso the sounds of traffic and chatter and city ambience that you'd slowly lost over the past few hours. The joy of finally returning to a place you could somewhat navigate diverged your attention, so by the time you turned to at least thank your guide, she was already long gone.

It wasn't really your problem if she didn't want to stick around. What was your problem was the little brother you'd left at home by himself. You hoped that the apartment was still in one piece by the time you'd made it back.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You finally visited the school. It certainly looked different teeming with student pushing and shoving their way to freedom. It also felt a lot different, seeing people your age running around in uniforms, talking to friends and passing by you without a second look. The uniforms, in particular, gave you a pause - They itched your brain in the most peculiar way until you remembered why. The same girl you'd met about a week ago, the one who'd slain the bee-like devil, had worn the very same uniform. Albeit, hers was doused in blood and cuts, it was no doubt the very same one.

That was a thought for later. You tapped your foot impatiently against the ground, waiting for your brother to finally make an appearance. You supposed his tardiness was payback for the time you got lost and spent hours wandering the backstreets of Kyoto, but you couldn't help but feel impatient.

He appeared a second later, thankfully, surrounded by a group of kids his age. It was nice to see him fitting in, especially after he'd only been going to his new school for about a week, although you had to admit it was funny seeing him freeze as soon as he saw you waiting at the front gate.

"Why are you here?" He scampered away from his group, looking more nervous than annoyed. You fixed him with a perpetually bored look.

"I came here to walk you home, idiot, why else? For shits and grins?" You quirked an eyebrow. He sighed and sagged his shoulders.

"But… I was gonna hang out with my new friends…" You gasped dramatically.

"And you were gonna make me walk home all by myself?" Your brother cringed. You felt nothing but satisfaction. With a sigh, you pat him on the shoulder.

"Just be back in time for dinner," You paused and set him with a stern expression. "And steer clear of devils, alright? I want you back in one piece."

He only gave you a big smile and a rushed thanks before running off, quickly rejoining his group. You shook your head and stretched your arms, noticing how quickly the crowds around you had thinned out around you.

"Oh, it's you again," You turned on your heel, coming face to face with the same, sharp-eyed dark-haired girl you'd briefly met a few weeks ago. Her face was riddled with scars again, clean cut, rough against her pale skin. You furrowed your brow, wondering if your memory was playing tricks on you.

"It's me? You were the girl who killed the devil, right?" You just had to make sure. She puffed up, eyes practically glowing orange and she fixed you with a pompous look.

"That's me. I'm an expert with any sort've melee weapon," She waved her hand as if shooing away an annoying insect from her ear. "But that's not why I came over here," Her eyes gleamed, "I was just wondering if you wanted to go shopping with me, y'know, have a walk around?"

You did a double-take.

The idea sounded nice, making a new friend, and there was a regular food vendor that you'd been meaning to try recently. But the idea of going with a stranger you'd really only just met set of alarms in your brain.

'However…' She was admittedly pretty. Those bright eyes that seemed to peer into your soul, a sharp, clean smile with long dark hair. 'Plus, it'll be in public, right? Plenty of other students and people around.'

"Yeah, sure, I have time," You missed the way her smile grew ever so slightly, stretching just further than a human could naturally.

However odd the situation was, you couldn't deny it was nice to finally have someone other than your brother to talk to. Admittedly, it was also odd how her bravado slipped the minute you turned to walk into the city, but you also found the marine life facts she sputtered out like she'd rehearsed were entertaining. She just seemed happy that you didn't seem bored out of your mind.

Asa Mitaka, you learned her name was. Wasn't usually one to talk to people, and she said it was a miracle she was able to muster up the courage to talk to you in the first place. She pointedly refused to make eye contact most of the time, which was fine in your opinion since at least the conversation was kept in a lively ebb and flow you weren't entirely used to.

She talked with an edge to her voice, not an annoyed one, but rather a nervous one. You didn't really want to ask about it, seeing as you used to do something similar when you were younger, however, Asa beat you to the punch.

"I don't have many friends - I had one before, but, well, she died in a devil attack not too long ago," She peered through a window store, just looking at the array of shoes that were for sale. "I mean, I haven't had many friends at all. Just the one." You stepped up next to her, but she just peered sadly beyond the glass.

Brown eyes. You squinted. Perhaps the light turned them orange. You once knew someone whose hazel eyes turned yellow under the light. Orange wasn't too far from brown.

"Maybe we can be friends," You asked, almost absentmindedly. Asa whipped around to stare at you, her mouth hanging open. Her eyes flickered back and forth - From your face, to behind you, maybe. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth nervously and didn't say anything.

That made your heart twist a little. Ouch.

Taking a break from the sun, the two of you were stopped at a vending machine under shade, grabbing a few drinks. It was mostly quiet aside from the sound of the machine working, clanging softly as coins were inserted. You were leaning against a wall when a little thing approached you out of the corner of your eye.

"Aw, cute. Kitty cat," You kneeled and reached out your hand, letting the feline sniff your fingers before it rubbed its head along your palm. Asa made a noise halfway between a choke and a squeak before shuffling a few paces backwards.

"Yeah, cute," She seemed preoccupied, whispering something urgently under her breath. Which was odd - You were going to ask if she was okay, but Asa was suddenly in your face before you could react, those same, orange-ringed eyes staring into your very being.

Orange. Not brown.

Preoccupied, a hot flush covered your face.

"Come with me. I wanna show you something cool," The bravado was back, oddly enough. No trace of the nervous high-schooler, but rather, the cool, confident and dangerous devil hunter you'd seen the first time you'd met eyes.

The change made you nervous, but also, you couldn't really say no to a pretty and confident girl asking you to come with her, especially when she'd been so heartening throughout your entire afternoon. She sealed the deal by taking your hand in hers, wrapping her lithe fingers confidently around your own in a way that made your heart thud errantly in your ribcage. Starved for human touch, you followed her as she tugged you along with enthusiasm.

It made butterflies tumble around in your chest, a sense of happiness and friendship you hadn't known in a while. It made you feel like a normal teen, running through the city with their friend, laughing happily together. You didn't have to care about making dinner, or phoning your parents in another country, or worrying about bills - You got to just run around without care plaguing your brain. You didn't care about the people you ran past, didn't even care as the streets thinned and people slowly appeared less and less around you. You didn't even realise that Asa had dragged you into something that was nothing less than an alley.

You only realised when she'd stopped laughing and was instead standing stock still between you and your freedom.

You also stopped laughing. Your heart dropped deep into your stomach.

"Ah, shit," You puffed, still catching your breath. "Well, I guess it was a dumb mistake to follow a stranger through the city." You tried to laugh away the atmosphere - You wanted to believe that you'd make it back home to see your family again, but somehow, seeing Asa's burning orange eyes made you doubt the chance that that would ever happen.

"Not surprised. Humans aren't the smartest," She offhandedly remarked, watching you like a dingo would watch a human baby. Although, no, that wasn't entirely right. There was a cold, analytical feeling behind it, not a sensation of hunger. But that word, the little indication - 'human.'

"You're a devil."

It was less a question and more of a statement. Asa smiled and cocked her head.

"A devil you couldn't even begin to fathom," Those same ringed eyes burned, pinning you to the wall. You furrowed your brow, gut-twisting and your neurotically swayed, judging how far you could possibly make it before she could close the distance.

"Lay it on me. I'm pretty smart," Were the dying words you chose to go with. However scary a devil she could be, Asa was also still in the body of a high-school girl. The sight wasn't particularly scary compared to the devils you'd seen in the past.

"You're bravado won't save. It certainly didn't save my host," Asa reached out her hand toward you, pinprick eyes staring you down with such complexity. The visage reminded you of an owl.

"I am not Asa," Asa began - "Asa is a part of me, and I am a part of her, yet, in the end, we are two different beings." You tilted your head.

"Then, who are you?" You shimmied against the wall, trying to perhaps slide your way to freedom.

Asa closed the distance instantly, digging her fingers into your scalp with such ferocity that you could feel it digging into bone with enough force to pin you to the spot, but not enough to shatter your skull instantly.

"I don't have a name, but I go by Yoru - The devil of war."

.

"(Name). Spinal cord sword."

You held your breath.

Nothing happened.

Yoru furrowed her brow.

"(Name). Spinal cord sword."

Her face morphed into a scowl, and then a snarl.

You gave her a look, one that asked 'what the hell are you doing' and you knew she knew exactly what you were thinking.

"What the fuck - Why isn't it working?" She let you go, shoving you painfully into the wall. You were dazed, now had a sore head and probably a minor concussion, but you were alive and your limbs weren't twisted into a gorey weapon. Your eyes focussed just in time to see Asa, or Yoru? Punch a hole in the nearby brick wall.

"It's because of you!" Yoru shouted at a patch of empty air. "You and your stupid human feelings and your pathetic nature to fall in love with someone who shows you a smidge of kindness and your stupid nature infecting my mind! Sharing a body with you has done nothing but hinder me!"

Yoru howled and whined like a toddler, bashing her fists against the same wall she'd punched a hole through, clutched her hair with her face screwed up into a childish scowl. She whipped around to stare in the vague direction she'd done so before, her scowl deepening with her teeth bared in a snarl.

"I AM NOT STUPID!" And with that, the anger was gone. The scars were gone, too. Her eyes were a rich shade of brown, deep, with flecks of gold and faint rings that seemed reminiscent of the war devil's own eyes. You had no idea if it was the influence of the devil herself, or if Asa's (?) eyes naturally looked like that.

An ear-splitting silence settled over the scene. Asa slumped against the wall, curled into the pit of carnage Yoru had carved with her bare fists. She just sat there, staring blankly ahead, eyes hooded and squinted as if someone was yelling at her. You were in a similar boat, head pounding, trickling of blood dribbling from your hairline, down your face and dripping onto the concrete below.

"So," You hummed. Asa flinched, but she didn't stop staring into the empty air ahead of her. "What the fuck was that all about?"

"That, uh, was Yoru." She didn't say anything else.

"And Yoru is the war devil?" Asa nodded.

…

"Mind explaining what's going on?" Asa finally pulled herself together, physically.

"It's a long story," She offered, trying to pull her hair into a pair of twintails.

"Well, I have to make dinner. Fancy staying over?" The words were out of your mouth before you could even think about them. Why you were inviting the war devil over for dinner, or at least the host of the war devil, you had no idea. But you just had one question you really, really had to ask.

"Hey, do you know why she's such a baby?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm heading out, be back soon!" Your brother yelled into the apartment, shrugging on a jacket.

"Don't fill up on junk food and don't talk to any weird devils, 'kay?" You yelled back. Your brother paused and looked at you before nudging his head in the direction of the other room. You scoffed.

"You know damn well what I mean!" Your brother laughed and locked the door behind him as he left.

Yoru appeared in the doorway as he left, a loaf of bread tucked under one arm with a slice hanging from her mouth.

"Where's he going?" The devil sat next to you at the kotatsu, absentmindedly watching whatever was playing on the tv set.

"To hang out with friends. He probably won't be back later so don't eat all the goddamn soba this time," You pointed your pen in her direction. The devil didn't seem particularly threatened, so you made a mental note to put aside a bowl for your brother.

"Hey, Yoru? Quick question," The devil grunted. "When will I see Asa again? Not that I don't appreciate your…" You paused and looked her up and down "Wonderful companionship, it feels weird to only see one of my girlfriends on a near daily basis."

Yoru scoffed and shrugged.

"When Mitaka can take control of this body, she's more than welcome to hang out with you," Yoru took the piece of bread she'd been eating and pressed it against your lips. You quirked an eyebrow but took a bite of the offered piece of bread. You decidedly didn't comment on her eating it plain, as last time resulted in a forty-minute tantrum including someone called 'Fami'.

After a moment of silence, Yoru stopped and grinned sharply. The same smile she gave you back in that alley all those months ago.

"Are you bullying Asa-" Yoru reached forward and grabbed you by both your wrists "-again?"

…

"Yoru?" The war devil smirked like a bitch.

"Yeah?"

"You're doing this to tease Asa, aren't you?" Yoru only cackled.

"Perhaps."

Asa is crying and shaking at the end. She can't believe Yoru would do something like that in front of her.

[yeeterthek33per]

Careful (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

It was hot.

That was an understatement.

It is fucking hot.

The heat wave that'd hit London just a day earlier was predicted, and yet it was still a lot. Even for an Aussie such as yourself who'd grown up in the gross heat of Brisbane.

The warmups were a nightmare, and it was prediscussed by the officials that there would be set water and ice breaks for both teams.

For whatever reason, you'd forgone having much water after warmups, leaving you stuck feeling a little dehydrated during the first twenty minutes.

The game was rough, which certainly didn't help either. The late afternoon sun was beading down heat on your slightly bloodied up shins.

Unfortunately, you were one to wear your socks low, so you copped more studs than either of you girlfriends liked.

That being said, it feels like your blood is being cooked under the radiation from above.

Running around the field in a black shirt and shorts made you question everything, that's for certain.

The moment the whistle for the water break is blown, you duck into the shade by the bench, immediately grabbing an ice towel and a cold bottle from the cooler, dousing yourself with the cooling liquid.

Katie plonks down next to you.

"You alright?"

You nod.

"About as fine as it gets on this lovely thirty-seven degree afternoon. You?"

"Sweating my non-existent balls off, but what else is new?"

You laugh at that, clapping her on the shoulder before standing again. There's a little whooziness from the sudden movement, but you brush it off.

You join the noticably distanced huddle, standing beside Caitlin who shifts to let you in to the circle.

"Alright ladies, we're doing well out there, but we need to take more caution with those midfielders. They're wedging themselves between you, and that's not what we want. Make sure you're tight on them. Don't let those through balls get to them so easily. Strikers, I need you back when you can be. Leave those extra leads for when we're one hundred percent certain we can break that defensive line. That's the only way we're beating them today. Other than that, perfect work, all of you. Remember to track back where you can, watch that mid, keep it tight. Team on three."

"1.2.3 Team!"

You all disperse, tossing the now warmed ice towels to the sideline and running back out onto the pitch, the sun immediately returning it's assault on all of you.

What you don't notice is the concerned glance from Steph, who now sees the paleness of your face. Your sweating was a concerningly low amount, especially in this heat.

Regardless, the game plays on.

Half time can't come quick enough in your opinion.

You start feeling like the world is spinning a little... differently than what it should. Regardless, you shake your head and press on.

The number of times you hit the ground increases as it gets closer to the end of the first half, leaving you to struggle more and more to get up after each tackle.

At one point, you have to accept the hand up from Kim, who gives you a mildly concerned look as you stumble a little trying to jog back to position, but you wave the older woman off.

Thanking god for the whistle, finally blowing for half time, you make your way off the pitch, hoping the wave of nausea that came over you about two minutes ago would go away.

Making your way into the heavenly air-conditioned locker rooms, you find yourself collapsing a little heavy-handed onto your cubby chair, water bottle in hand.

The noise attracts a few concerned eyes, but you quickly straighten up, avoiding meeting your girlfriend's gaze, who stays watching you for a little longer.

You know Steph's just worried, but you can't help not wanting her to be. Especially not during games.

What you couldn’t see was the exchanged look she shared with your other girlfriend, who had seen your pale face when you'd stood in the circle next to her during the drink break earlier.

You weren't sweating nearly enough for it to be healthy, and they hadn't seen you pick up a drink after warmups when everybody else had, but they'd both brushed it off thinking they'd just missed seeing it.

Now though, they were worried you hadn't been careful with this weather.

Avoiding slouching too much, despite your exhausted muscles' protests, you take slow, small sips of water, not wanting to completely kill your stomach, especially not when the nausea was starting to lesson off now that you were cooling off again.

Your head was starting to hurt now, too, a heat headache setting in. Using the supplied wet cloths, you tried your best to keep away throbbing in your temples, which seemed to worsen the moment you were all told to head back out to the pitch.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump as you walk out onto the pitch again. You relax a bit before tensing up at the look she gives you.

"You doing alright, puddin?"

You nod, covering a wince as the pounding worsens at the movement.

"I'm doing fine. Let's get back to it, yeah?"

Jogging back to position, you shake off the jelly feeling in your legs, brushing it off as just lactic acid setting in and push it down like everyone else does.

It's just twenty minutes later, after a much more scrappy start to the second half, you realise, oh shit, maybe this might be bad.

Struggling to get up for a third tackle in four minutes, you stumble to your feet again, waving off your now slightly fussing teammates, your girlfriends in particular.

"Y/n... maybe you should go off -"

You shake your head no immediately.

"I'm fine, it's only twenty minutes left anyway, I'll be fine. It's just muscular exhaustion setting in, I can push it."

Turns out, you could not, in fact, push it.

Just five minutes later, after receiving a wayward pass from the backs and turning to send it into the box, you're wiped out from behind by one of their midfielders, earning a free kick for your team.

Unfortunately, you hit the turf a little harder than you expected, and it completely winds you.

You take a second to get up, stumbling to your feet to move so Katie can set up for the free kick.

Before you can make it back to your full stance though, the nausea and woosiness come back full force and you collapse like a sock of rocks, vision blurring heavily as you fall, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist stopping you from hitting your head, but your vision still goes dark for a few moments.

A frantic whistle blowing and several bodies surrounding your own is what brings you back, the pounding in your head far worse as your chest rises and falls with laboured breaths.

The moment you went down, Caitlin and Steph are beside you, frantically calling the ref and medics over, and that's where everything goes dark again.

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

Everything feels like a blur to you, and you don't fully come to for a long time. Which scares the crap out of your girls. It's not until you're laid on a bed in the paramedic's office of the stadium that you fully regain consciousness.

You feel like absolute crap. Everything feels limp and achey as you shift on the cheap cushioning.

Both of your partners are sat on stools beside you. The doctor is sitting at the desk, writing on some paperwork.

"How you feeling, baby?"

"Like shit, what happened?"

They both frown at that, and the team doctor's head perks up at your answer.

Steph cautiously takes your hand.

"You don't remember how you got here? Or what happened?"

It's a little fuzzy and strain as you might. You don't recall anything that might indicate why you're in a doctor's office. You just feel like shit and are wondering why you couldn't remember anything past getting up again after being tackled.

You wrack your brain a bit more, realising you'd felt like you were practically melting under the heat. Was that why? Had you collapsed? Or had you been taken out? You remember copping a few tackles during the game.

"I- not really. Did I get knocked out or something?"

"Uh, no Y/n, it was heat exhaustion. You collapsed during the game. Can you tell me what might’ve happened beforehand?"

He moves to stand by you as well, clipboard in hand.

Furrowing your brows, you try to think back, but the pounding in your head makes it difficult.

"Not really, I just remember copping a few bad tackles. That's it, really. That and just feeling, I don't know, hot? It's just fuzzy after half time."

The doctor's brow creases slightly in thought, leaving a worried expression on both of your girlfriend's faces.

"That's alright, we can try again later, we'll keep you on watch with the medics at your training centre overnight in case anything comes up."

"In case anything comes up? Is she gonna be okay?"

The question out of Caitlin's lips makes him look up with a reassuring smile.

"It's perfectly normal for people who pass out to not remember the incident itself for a bit. It's just as a precaution. She should be fine."

She nods, and you let your head rest back on the pillows.

"Keep drinking water for us, I'll be back in about twenty to check on you. As for you two, I recommend you both go wind down from the game, take your showers, do what you need to do."

They both go to protest.

"Or if you wanna take turns, your bus will be leaving soon. We'll arrange for her to get transported back to the training centre."

Reluctantly agreeing, Steph moves to go shower and change first, Caitlin stubbornly still gripping your hand.

"I'm alright baby, you can go clean up."

But try as you might, she still refuses.

"I'm not leaving you here on your own."

You smile softly, thumb caressing her hand gently, though it turns into a slight grimace. Having your eyes open at this point is a bit of a struggle.

"You wanna tell me what happened now, or am I wrestling it out of Kimmy later?"

Caitlin shakes her head.

"Hush baby, at least wait until Steph gets back, and we'll tell you. Just rest your head for now."

You hum softly, letting your eyes fall closed again. You must drift off for a moment because it's Steph who gently shakes you awake again.

"Hey, no sleeping just yet, baby."

A soft grumble leaves your lips.

She runs her fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, and it helps relieve the throbbing a little, to the point where you fully lean into her touch.

Pouting when she pulls away, you grab her hand and put it back again, which makes her chuckle softly, moving to sit next to you the bed.

"Still bad?"

Nodding slightly in response, you tuck your head into her lap and turn onto your side, letting her continue to comb through your hair.

"So, do I get to know how it happened?"

"We've gotta see what you remember first, baby. Let the doctor do his thing."

The whine from you makes her sigh softly.

"I know, but I wanna know what happened, though."

"You'll find out later, babe."

You look up at her, wincing at the blinding light of the office LEDs.

"But-"

She gives you a stern look but her tone remains soft.

"Patience, Y/n."

Huffing softly, you cuddle back into her lap, nose buried into the skin of her stomach where her shirt's ridden up slightly.

Her hand continues its ministrations while you wait for the doctor and Caitlin.

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

You do end up staying at the training facility. As the night progresses, and the pain lessens slightly with mild painkillers, the event comes back a little fuzzy, but not entirely. You vaguely remember actually conversing with your girlfriend's in the doctors office for a while before you fully came to.

That's probably what had them so concerned in the first place that you weren't fully with it. They end up allowing one of your girlfriend's to stay while the other goes home to rest, but, knowing Caitlin, she'd be up pacing a hole in the floor anyway, most likely texting Steph the whole time.

Being woken every two hours with a killer headache until eight the next morning wasn't pretty to witness. Your girlfriend winced every time the medic received a grumpy swipe as they woke you to quiz you in the middle of the night.

You would later feel bad, knowing they were only doing their jobs, but your beauty sleep is your beauty sleep, dude.

It's about nine the next morning that you're allowed to go home under the condition that if you nap at all, you're to be woken every two hours and if anything worsens, you're to go straight to a hospital over the next few days.

Your girlfriends are also under strict instruction to make sure you actually drink water for once.

You do get a visit from the girls over the next day or so, making sure you're alive still and not going totally batshit crazy. You also do eventually find out what happened.

"God babe, you just crumpled. Like, you got wiped the fuck out and when you tried to shrug it off and get up ready for the set piece, you just fell again. Lucky McCabe caught you or it would've been a worse head injury I reckon."

"Really? What happened after I passed out? Because I don't remember anything after that, just vaguely some conversation in the doctors office before he assessed me."

Steph's hand rests on your leg from beside you, squeezing softly.

"That's what was a little scary. You were talking to us. Conversing with us. You complained you were feeling way too hot. But then you kind of, I guess, come to a bit more. It's like you weren't even awake before."

Caitlin nods.

"You know you really gave us all a heart attack out there."

Sighing softly, knowing you'd been too stubborn to admit it, maybe you needed to be subbed off.

Steph rubs your shoulder.

"You just need to be more careful, babe, especially in a heat wave like this. We hadn't even seen you drink water when you should have after warmups."

There's a guilty look on your face.

"It was just a minor mistake, that's all."

The incredulous look you receive makes you wince slightly.

"Okay, minor mistake, slightly less minor consequences, yeah, I know."

They both shake their heads, Caitlin moving to sit beside you, arm around your shoulder, Steph moving her arm around your waist.

"Look, baby, we know you were trying to push through. But we love you, and we don't like seeing you hurt. Just be more careful, yeah?"

You nod your head in agreement and let it fall to rest on the brunettes shoulder, her hand tightening on your waist, to which you squeeze her leg comfortingly.

She was right. You were a dipshit at the time and totally put your life at risk because of some stupid game time. And you scared the life out of your family and friends whilst you were at it too.

They couldn't bear to see you like that. Neither could you frankly.

Never again.

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

[vickyvicarious]

Every scrap of paper was gone, and with it all my notes, my memoranda, relating to railways and travel, my letter of credit, in fact all that might be useful to me were I once outside the castle. I sat and pondered awhile, and then some thought occurred to me, and I made search of my portmanteau and in the wardrobe where I had placed my clothes.

The suit in which I had travelled was gone, and also my overcoat and rug; I could find no trace of them anywhere.

The items Dracula takes have some fun implications. Regardless of whether you think he rushed off to steal these things as soon as he locked Jonathan in the study last entry, or if you think he took them a few days later, he has two clear goals here: prevent Jonathan from writing, and more importantly prevent Jonathan from leaving. Both point to him having a fear of losing control of the situation.

Sure, this escalates the mental torture. But it also suggests that, after seeing Jonathan's shorthand letter, Dracula became aware that his guest is more resourceful than he expected. Jonathan has access to at least one kind of knowledge which Dracula does not. There could be others (in fact, there is the diary). So. He takes away his writing materials - he won't be able to write any more coded letters. But Jonathan does still have access to paper as long as he has access to the study. If he's very resourceful he could rip pages out of a few books, fold up notes, maybe craft a sort of envelope by folding paper. It's not nearly as likely but it isn't impossible. The other aspect of preventing Jonathan from getting a message out is probably to keep a closer eye on him, to isolate him further from the people around him.

But he's already tried to send one letter. He arrived in the castle weighed down with anti-vampire gifts. Whatever language barrier he has is obviously not enough to keep him from receiving aid from the locals should he get out somehow - and after the incident with him encountering the vampire ladies as well as this letter, Dracula is no longer just assuming Jonathan can never get out. He is taking precautions to ensure he won't get far when he does.

He won't be able to get money with his letter of credit. He won't have access to his notes about the surrounding area or the dictionary that helped him to communicate better. He won't know where to go or when to get on a train heading far away from here. And more than that - he won't have his travel clothes, he won't have his coat and rug (basically a travel blanket to keep you warm). This might make him less likely to try an escape, which is a bonus, but the focus is on ensuring Jonathan cannot get out of Dracula's reach. He will be slowed down enough - by weather, by difficulty communicating, by uncertainty about where to go - that Dracula can catch up to him and stop him.

If needed, of course. It's not to say that this will be needed, and certainly Dracula would prefer it not to be, because that would spell a firm end to this game. But he now feels the need to prepare for such an eventuality. It's not just about stepping up the encroachment on Jonathan's space/privacy/belongings. That's a bonus for sure! But taking these things also points to him feeling threatened to some degree.

And not just by Jonathan, either. If his control over the locals were as complete as he presents it, I don't think he would be this worried. But his actions here actually support the interpretation that he was bluffing when he implied that the man to whom Jonathan entrusted his letter sold him out. Or at the very least, Dracula doesn't have confidence that everyone would sell Jonathan out. He fears that they might take a message, so he has to steal his writing materials. He fears that Jonathan might find a way out of the castle, so he ensures he won't get far.

Implying that the Romani who work for him will never help Jonathan is intended to build a sense of isolation in Jonathan. He wants to erode trust, to make Jonathan feel like he cannot rely on anyone else (except his friend Dracula, who protects him from worse dangers). That means, even if they did want to help him, he will try to make Jonathan think no one is even interested in doing so. It means he will keep him separated from them as much as possible. It means that he will do anything to break down trust and ensure Jonathan cannot access a support system.

Because if he has no support system, then if (when) he tries to escape he will have to do so all alone. And without the things Dracula took from him today, it's not likely that he will get very far. Not before Dracula catches up to him, anyway.

.

A few more spoilery notes below the cut:

In the last entry Dracula tried to ensure Jonathan wouldn't seek help from the Romani. When he goes out in Jonathan's clothes to kill people, he is trying to ensure the local villagers will not offer him help. Both are aimed at isolating him, and when you think about it they imply Dracula is concerned that Jonathan would be able to get help if not for these measures. Later on the wolves escalate matters even further, adding yet another layer of difficulty aimed to ensure Jonathan doesn't try to just leave. Because Dracula no longer puts it past him to somehow manage to do that.

And yet, at the same time, he's enjoying his time with Jonathan too much to end it prematurely by stopping him permanently. Dracula is arrogant enough to believe he can control the situation long enough to have his cake and eat it too, basically. But in the end, he was wrong to not ensure that Jonathan was taken care of, because as soon as he knew there was no more time to play the waiting game, Jonathan acted. And yeah, he was indeed capable of getting out. He was capable of moving very quickly, even with the obstacles put in place by the missing belongings, and he was capable of finding people who were willing to be kind to him. Jonathan's timing was perfect in the end because he waited out Dracula who could and would have hunted him down. The vampire ladies either don't have the control, the range, or the interest to do so.

Dracula is forced to acknowledge that Jonathan is clever, but he refuses to see just how much. He insists on treating him merely as prey trying to escape, who just needs a better trap. But Jonathan isn't merely going to flee, he eventually becomes the predator himself. The knowledge he has is absolutely vital to defeating Dracula; he's aware that he is a threat to the Count from early on. And if Dracula had been willing to truly play it safe here, he would have killed Jonathan before leaving. But that would require treating him as a legitimate threat. That would require Dracula to stop indulging himself with Jonathan. And Jonathan is so good at playing along, so good at being fun to toy with, that Dracula really doesn't want to stop. Not to mention his arrogance and expectation that he can surely handle this one man. And he can - until he leaves his castle. Then Jonathan is finally free to act.

And sure, it's no immediate victory. It's certainly not a one-man crusade or dependent on Jonathan alone. But that was never the danger Jonathan represented anyway - his escape represents knowledge getting out, spreading freely. His escape represents people freeing themselves from Dracula's control, acting without his awareness. And it happens, and it leads to Dracula being killed once and for all. Because Jonathan plays along, and because Dracula enjoys it and doesn't want to admit to the threat.

[mwolf0epsilon]

The 501st Gang Meet their 105th Counterparts

A prequel to my last post

Rex, staring uneasily at the fully kitted captain Carno who is just silently staring at him: ...Uh, welcome aboard. I'm sure you'll feel right at home with the 501st and, should you need anything, we're more than willing to accomodate. Carno, continuing to stare menacingly before finally speaking up in a raspy and very hushed tone: I don't like your face. Rex: Wh-- Carno, shoving past him rudely: Stay out of my way, Blondie. I don't need some flashy Jedi's pet putting a spotlight on me. Rex, starting to think this might not be as easy as the briefing made it sound: Oh boy...

-

James, looking Jesse up and down while playing with his braid: So, is like, the tat supposed to be some kinda statement, or are you just really into licking boots? Jesse, pausing: I... Excuse me?! -staring at James wide-eyed- James: Oooh, it's a statement isn't it? Dang boy, they should slap you on a poster. Every battalion needs a show fathier, I guess! Jesse, glaring: I don't like you. James: Feeling's mutual. This ship ain't big enough for two token pretty boys. Jesse: No, no it isn't.

-

Hardcase, excitedly showing Clearcut around while talking like a ship running a click per second: Clearcut, allowing Hardcase to drag him around while sort of tuning him out and only picking up on vital pieces of information like emergency hallways, weapons storage and other such things: Hardcase: You don't talk much do ya? That's fine I'll talk for the both of us! Clearcut: By all means, carry on. Hardcase, happily carrying on: I can tell we're both gonna get along really well. Clearcut: I agree.

-

Kix, staring at Bon who's been shaking and on the verge of tears since arriving: Bon, staring back at Kix with very wet eyes while holding a fully stocked medkit in hand: I get to use this on anyone who comes in here? Kix, blinking: ... Yes. This is the medbay after all. Bon: And I'm allowed to treat them? I'm allowed? Kix, feeling a little uneasy: Yes...? Bon, openly crying now: This is the happiest day of my life... Kix, incredibly uncomfortable: Ah...

-

Echo & Fives, having a stare down with Wallflower & Nowt: Wallflower & Nowt, staring back at Fives and Echo with an impassive and a smug look respectively: Fives, opens up his mouth to say something: Nowt: Bitch. Wallflower, turning to slap his brother across the face: Captain said to put a sock in it. Nowt: The captain can suck it! If it wasn't for me he wouldn't know half the kark the others get up to when he's not looking! Wallflower: Karkin' snitch! Fives, closing his mouth and looking at Echo: Echo, nodding at Fives as both of them slowly back away from the now furiously arguing Jenga Twins:

-

Tup, sitting on the floor wrapped in a thin blanket because he was kicked out of his bunk and had his belongings taken: Can I at least have my brush back? Lobo, tossing him a pair of scissors instead: No amount of brushing will make that rat's nest look any less like osik. Tup, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the scissors and now standing up angrily: I'm gonna knock your teeth out. Lobo, equally angry: I'm gonna make you eat your own hair. Tup & Lobo launch themselves at each other and proceed to start a fight:

-

Dogma, a little overwhelmed as Caprichoso pulls him along while he's supposed to be the one giving him a tour of the ship: Caprichoso, wide-eyed and extremely excited about everything he's seen so far: Wow! You 501st lot have EVERYTHING! Good eats, tons of new gear up for grabs, full training room setup, clean showers, clean barracks, fully stocked medbay... Your Jedi spoil you so good! You must be the greatest troopers ever! Dogma: I... I wouldn't say they spoil us... That'd be a sign of unfair favoritism and would go against the no fraternization rules. And while the 501st certainly has a degree of great competency among many of the GAR's forces, those things you've listed are all requirements that were put forward to the Republic since the beginning of the army's first year of deployment. An ill-prepared and ill-equipment battalion wouldn't serve properly. Caprichoso: I know what you mean. But our general didn't see it that way. Thought we could push ourselves to be better without extra help... But eh! Who cares? The blighter is dead an' buried while we're here now! Gosh... You think your medic could give me a once over? Or or or, maybe we could hit the mess? Or uh! A shower yeah! I haven't had a shower in two weeks... My armour's getting more rank than I am ehehe! Get it? Dogma, moving slightly away from Caprichoso out of mild disgust: I, yes, a hot shower and a hot meal, then I can continue giving you the to-- Caprichoso: YOU GUYS GET HOT WATER?! I LOVE IT HERE ALREADY! -hugging Dogma tightly- We are gonna be such great friends! Dogma, eyes watering at the intense stench of B.O as well as the bone crushing hug of the rather clingy trooper: Stars have mercy...

[back2bluesidex]

Taste of a Poison - KSJ (18+)

Pairing: Boyfriend!Seokjin X Fem!Reader (ft. Ex-boyfriend Jimin)

Theme: Angst, Drama,

Summary: Relationship with Seokjin is as toxic as it is addictive.

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: Unhealthy relationship, mentions of cheating, attempts of cheating, Jin is toxic, reader ain't anything better, argument, petty behavior, reader is stubborn, Jimin is an angel.

MINORS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THIS BLOG!!

A/N: This story is based on this request by @chimmisbae. It was getting longer and I don't usually write more than 2k for a story, so I made it a two shot. The next part will contain BDSM themed smut and I have not tasted that water yet, so, all the best to me. Till then.. enjoy this.

You stare at your open palms blankly. Your hands are as dry as your life lately.  

Not knowing what exactly you are trying to find there, you close your eyelids focusing on the stinging session that only tears can bring. 

You are in desperate need of soaking your tears away. 

“You can’t cry. You won’t cry. You don’t need to waste any more tears on Seokjin. You have had enough.” These are the words that you chant within yourself. 

Your eyes open on their own and divert themselves at the sky as if to look for an answer. An answer to justify why you are stuck in this miserable state. 

“Don’t I deserve to be happy?” you ask yourself and something within you replies saying, “Yes, you do. But first you will have to leave him.” 

You turn around to take a look at the exit of the bar. 

There is a guy trying to carry the weight of his drunk friend, a couple of girls who probably got kicked out for not having valid age proof, and a lonesome man trying to call someone. But there is no sign of him… your boyfriend Seokjin. 

It’s been more than fifteen minutes since you left your seat and walked out but he hasn’t even noticed your absence. That’s what you are worth to him, that is what you mean, which translates to nothing but an unimportant presence. 

How much time has it been again? 1 year and eight months? Yes. 

It's been almost two years and you still don’t understand Seokjin, neither does he have a Ph.D degree in understanding you. And as a result, you have seen more downs than ups within your relationship span. 

Things always go wrong one way or another. Mostly because - 

1. Seokjin is way too busy for you. Owning and running one of the most successful law firms of South Korea certainly makes you a busybody. However, that does not mean you can’t spare an hour for the person you apparently love. 

2. Seokjin is dangerously possessive. A man within 20 meters of radius of you and he will be losing his shit. If he could, he would lock you up in a showcase only for him to see. 

3. You don’t trust him enough. You are well aware of the womanizer reputation he had before starting to date you. And no matter how many times has he claimed that he has changed, you just can’t bring yourself to trust him.

4. You are way too stubborn for your own good. You only do what you feel like doing. You listen to none, you don’t consider suggestions and most of the time you don’t accept what Seokjin has to propose, which ticks him off very badly. If he tells you to go right, you will go left. Hence, your relationship is a mess. 

All in all, you and Seokjin are not meant for each other. 

Tonight is just another confirmation of the above statement. 

He has been ditching you for work for the past few weeks. You said nothing knowing that everything will end up you two having another unending fight and then you will somehow get pinned to his mattress while he fucks you senseless. 

You did not want to repeat this vicious cycle, so you settled for giving him a cold shoulder instead. This new tactic of yours had an impressive impact on your boyfriend as he promised you a date in exchange for your normal behavior. 

You almost accepted your victory. But it seems like you are not as lucky as you thought because as soon as you two got seated in a booth, he miraculously found two of his clients and offered them to join you two. 

And those clients being more important than you, your so-called boyfriend didn’t even pay you mind when you left the booth and walked out of the bar. 

This is unacceptable, especially because this occurrence is nothing new. You have been facing the same and similar shit again and again. But tonight, you are going to take a step. You are going to take a step away from Seokjin and this toxic hell of a relationship. 

So you do the next best thing. Pulling your phone out from your purse, you call that one person you know will go again every odd to be with you. You dial Jimin’s number and he receives it readily after the third ring. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Jimin’s voice bounces through the other side of your phone. He is always so cheerful to you that it hurts. 

“Jimin… can you pick me up please? I am standing at the exit of Blue Night” Your voice comes out firmer than you expected, “I mean only if you are not busy.” 

“Will be there in ten.” he cuts the call. 

You punch the keycode for entering your apartment as soon as possible. If Jimin notices that the code is still a combination of your and his birth dates then he doesn’t say anything. He has not said a word during your entire way back home, maybe he had understood that you are in no mood of being pursued for a conversation. 

“Um.. I’ll leave. Good night Y/N” Jimin says as you enter your apartment holding the door open. 

“No- I mean..” You pause, deciding on whether you should ask him to stay or not, “Can you.. uh.. Would you like to stay the night? If you don’t have anything to do- anyone waiting on you?” you place the last part of the sentence very cautiously. 

“I would love to stay, Y/N. but-” he closes his eyes, “what about Jin?” 

“I don’t care. Not anymore.” Your voice trembles. 

You break down in a loud sob as soon as Jimin shuts the door behind him. He wastes no time and wraps you into his warm embrace. You feel as if you just hit home.

“You know… he doesn’t deserve you.” Jimin mumbles, his lips brushing on your temple. 

“Just like I never deserved you. You were way too good for me. You still are. And look at me, I broke your heart only for you to hold me down when my so-called boyfriend ditches me for his precious clients.” You hide your face in his chest. Saying that you feel guilty of breaking Jimin’s heart upon realizing that best-friend-to-lover trope doesn’t work for you, will be an understatement. But you had no other choice, or that is what you tell yourself, since you could not see him expecting things from you and getting disappointed again and again. You are not a giver after all. 

“Just so you know Y/N, I never stopped loving you.” Jimin whispers in your ear, stroking your head gently. 

“I know. And that’s so stupid of you.” You reply, staring up into his eyes. 

His soft blonde hair makes him look like the angel he is and you feel like your rationalities are drowning in those beautiful brown eyes. You somehow start to reach up as he leans down. 

Just when two pairs of lips are about to touch, you hear the keyword being punched in your apartment entrance and the door opening with a beep. And the only person to know your house code except for you and Jimin is none other than Kim Seokjin. 

Jimin stops stroking your head as he sits up somewhat straight and stares at the door. However, you keep your face buried in his chest. A part of your brain is telling you to push yourself off of Jimin but another wicked and darker part of the brain tells you to stay put, rile seokjin up and push each of his buttons. You listen to the darker part. 

“Woah! I definitely did not expect to discover such a sight.” Seokjin regards the sight in front of him as the words fall from his mouth humorlessly. 

You detach your body from Jimin’s and sit straight, ready to fight him back, “You should not expect anything else after leaving me to die during one of our meaningless dates.” 

“Oh? Leave you to die? Have you even checked your phone or are you too busy to fuck around with your ex-boyfriend?” He grits, anger taking over his otherwise indifferent expression faster than light. 

“Only if you treated her better would you have a reason to complain.” Jimin interjects, now standing straight as if to protect you from Seokjin. 

“I am not talking to you, Park. Stay out of this. No wait- get out of the house or otherwise I will have to throw you out.” Seokjin growls. 

Jimin balls his fists ready to fight seokjin but that’s the last thing you want now. You know Jin. You know if he says he will throw Jimin out then he will actually throw him out, thanks to his immaculate military achievement during his enlistment span. You have already broken Jimin’s heart. Now you don’t want to be the reason for his broken ribs as well. So, you intervene.

“Jimin. I am sorry but can you please-” 

“You are doing this again Y/n” Jimin is visibly upset. His eyes reflect his heart, which is filled with pain and again you are the reason.

“This is the last time Jimin. I promise.” you manage to say. Jimin nearly stomps off and shuts the door loudly enough to signify his bitter mood. 

You sigh and then diver your eyes to your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend,

“What do you want?” you seethe through your teeth. 

“What was he doing here, Y/N?” Jin takes a step towards you but you stay where you are. 

“Someone had to bring me home since you got busy with your clients.” 

“He only brought you home?” 

“Why? Do you think I am like you? Fucking behind your back?”

Jin scoffs. He is now dangerously close to your body. His tall and broad form easily swallows your smaller one.

“You think I am fucking behind your back? After all these times?” Jin’s voice has reached a few octaves lower than usual but his tone is calmer than what it was seconds ago. 

“Your reputation doesn’t suggest otherwise. Especially when you don’t even spare a single evening for me.” Your voice is firm, steady and serious. You are not afraid of confronting him, especially when it’s the last time. 

“We have talked about this, Y/n” Jin’s voice is still calm, which contrasts the raging fire that you perceive inside his eyes. 

“Yes. we have but nothing changed. So-” you pause, gulping once to provide a touch of moisture to your dry throat, “I don’t think I can do this anymore. Let’s end this right now, right here.” 

“What?” Jin’s tough exterior finally breaks. His face falls, eyes widens, jaw loosens. 

“You heard me.” you reply nonchalantly, causing him to break into a round of a dry chuckle. 

“You really think you can live without me? After all these times?” Jin closes the remaining distance and this time, you take a step backward. You will be lying if you say the thought doesn’t make you weak. But you know he is trying to manipulate you into thinking you are nothing without him, which is most definitely not the truth. 

“I will be doing fine. As fine as I was doing before you walked into my life, Jin.” you reply firmly and you believe your words wholeheartedly.  

“I see? Does that mean… you will go back to that guy, won't you?” 

“That’s my private matter. What I do after breaking up with you should not be your concern. And what if I go back to him? He has always been a better lover anyway.” you spat at his face, reminding him the fact that Jimin is indeed better when it comes to loving you. 

“Oh really? But can he fuck you like I do? As much as I can remember, sex is one of the primary reasons why you left him?” Seokjin smirks, you gulp. 

Well, yeah. He is right. Sex is certainly one of the main reasons. 

With Jimin everything was so soft and vanilla. He used to hold your hands while thrusting into you, which is very sweet and lovely but not what you wanted. 

You are a kinky woman with a keen interest in submitting yourself to a master and that is exactly what drove you to Jin. Sex was rough and animalistic with him, he is also the best dom you have ever had. So even if you didn’t stay for love, you certainly stayed for sex. 

“What happened, princess? Why aren’t you replying?” Seokjin’s hand flies around your waist to pull you flush against him.

Once you are in his orbit, you lose your composure a bit. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe out a lie through them. You wanna tell him that yes jimin can fuck you like he does, but you can’t. You can’t lie about something you enjoy the most about this relationship with Jin. And you quietly decide to enjoy it for one last time before you leave him completely. 

“I am not replying because I forgot how you felt.” you scoff, wiggling in his strong hold, “you are way too busy to fuck me these days.” 

“Then let me remind you how good I can make you feel, princess.” Seokjin smirks as his hand finds its way to your ass.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonviblog @nochuel

[redlightspellsdaanger]

*new* Intimate Conversations (finale)

Title: Intimate Conversations

Pairing: Sebastian Vettel x female character x Jenson Button

Rating: +18

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings/notes: Established relationship. Threesome. M/F/M

Summary: Threesomes mess up your relationship, they said.

A/N: Last chapter posted. Took a bit but we got there.

Link to the full fic on AO3 here.

"Looks like you could use a hand to take care of that, Seb."

There was no way Stella had heard that.

It had to be the foggy lust haze blurring sounds in her ears. But Jenson was most certainly shifting closer to Sebastian and reaching out, slowly enough that they could tell exactly what he was about to do.

Sebastian had frozen on his tracks, half sitting with a leg tucked under him, fleshy inner thigh fully laid out.

He made no move to stop Jenson.

Hyperaware, Stella followed how lube slicked fingers wrapped around her boyfriend's cock and slid along the shaft. Sebastian, too, watched, eyes wide like saucers, as the head appeared and disappeared from the inside of his closed fist. Jenson's fingers brushed under his balls and Sebastian inhaled sharply. His body stirred, of course, reacting to the stimulus.

"Is it alright like this?" Jenson whispered.

Stella was holding her breath. Sebastian lifted his chin, blinking in that slow manner of his. "I-I don't know what to tell you, man."

"Do you want me to stop?" And he followed that by thumbing the slit with particular care.

Sebastian's mouth formed a perfect "o", filled with pleasure. "Yes," he swallowed. "No. I-I don't know." At his side, the sheet was bunched up in his fist and he squirmed a little on the spot, as if he didn't know what to do with his legs. Jenson was grinning. "Maybe keep going. Keep going... you're not so bad at it," he added.

"Naturally talented is what they call it, mate," he teased. His grip seemed firmer, as he flicked his wrist, and the skin on skin sounds hit louder than they perhaps normally would. It was deliciously tantalising and Stella didn't trust herself to even wonder where that might lead. "Tell me how you like it, c'mon."

"I didn't expect I'd be needing to explain that to you," he breathed. He was nibbling on his bottom lip now.

Jenson released him - Sebastian's brow furrowing with clear disappointment - and his seductive eyes darted meaningfully to his own lap. "What if I told you I'd love it if you showed me?"

The two men were close enough that Jenson was within reach from his right hand. It was a challenge.

One that Sebastian would not turn down.

Sure enough, a few expectant moments later the German slowly made a move. It was such a striking image, seeing him stroking another man's cock. His hand seemed smaller, there was a degree of uncertainty, it was all so very different compared to how it went when he touched himself.

Tip of his tongue sticking out, Sebastian tilted his head to the side as he got accustomed to the sensation of pleasuring someone else that way, gradually displaying more confidence.

Stretching out their legs to sit more comfortably, they applied some lube at Jenson's suggestion before carrying on in a mutual exchange. Stella was gifted with a front row view to it all.

"You're telling me you've never done this, Seb?" Jenson sounded slightly breathless.

The reply came as a simple shake of head, Sebastian mouthing "no".

"With none of your karting buddies in a locker room? When you were the last ones around?"

"I don't know what it was like for you," he scoffed, "but everyone was always bigger and older than me. The kids, the sponsors..."

"I suppose it's never too late, is it?"

Sebastian appeared fascinated, watching as they wanked each other, his right arm and Jenson's left crossed over each other's laps. They had fallen into an easy rhythm, pretty much mirroring each other.

Stella giggled. "I think I found the next OnlyFans stars."

A small smile pulled at the corner of Sebastian's mouth; Jenson winked at her. "Oh, yeah? Why don't you come over here so you can get your share?"

She had no interest in changing the dynamics yet.

Sebastian shot a loaded glance at his fellow driver and Stella sensed something changing.

"Jenson, is it okay if I give you a blowjob?"

The blond's head snapped up. Sebastian was staring at him in a disarmed manner as if he had just offered him a lift to the circuit.

"D-did I hear that right? You're offering to- you want to suck me off?"

Sebastian went redder, a mix of coyness and naughtiness on the lopsided grin that formed. "Why not?" He glanced at Stella, then shrugged and withdrew from Jenson's lap. "I never tried it. And I mean, since we're here now. Obviously, if you don't mind. But I don't think you do."

"Oh, wow." Jenson was floored but the dark pupils did not conceal his primal reaction. "As if I'd ever say no to that. I think you're trying to kill me."

"No, not really, I hope I'm not that bad!" He joked. "So how do you wanna do this, how should we...?" And he gesticulated to the general area of the bed.

Moving aside immediately, Stella made room for Jenson, the British driver preparing to recline against the headboard, fluffing a pillow to stuff behind his back. Sebastian searched for Stella's hand, giving it a squeeze, and placed a kiss on her lips. He seemed a little anxious all of a sudden.

"What if I like it?"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing."

She sat comfortably beside Jenson, the temperature in the room rising steeply at the mere sight of Sebastian crawling all the way up from the end of the bed and then above him. Sitting on his heels for a moment, their limbs entwined, he focused on the generous erection resting on Jenson's belly as if he was assessing the task.

Without any warning, he grabbed him at the base and experimentally licked him up like an ice cream. Jenson responded with a mighty shudder and Stella heard him curse under his breath.

Sitting back up, Sebastian winced and cleared his throat. Stella immediately pipped in, "You get used to the taste."

"Right." He tucked the unruly locks of wavy hair behind his ears and grinned. "Any tips?"

"You know the drill," Jenson folded his tattooed arm under his head and spread wider on the mattress, making himself more accessible. "It can't really go wrong. Just do what feels good when you're on the receiving end, let's put it like that."

"Really careful with your teeth," Stella added, caressing his arm encouragingly. "And don't get too excited, don't take more than you think you can."

"Small mistake, big consequences, I get it." The permanent blush that had set on his cheeks made him incredibly boyish; the combination with his bright eyes was irresistible. "Maybe I should practise first. You have a banana? No?" He shook his head, amusing himself.

"You can practise all you want on me, Seb, I promise."

"Okay, no fruit. Just fruity." Sebastian leaned forward again, this time bracing himself on one elbow. Jenson twitched when he rested a hand on his hipbone. "Where the hell did you pull this from? Fuck, it's so big."

His tongue darted out. Slowly, it flattened over the tip, licking once. He wetted his lips then swirled his tongue around the head; and then he moved down to take him in his mouth. Stella watched the way his cheeks hollowed when he sucked. Jenson hissed, closing his eyes.

"Alright?" She asked Sebastian.

He drew back. "Yeah. Bit weird but I'm still drunk enough," he chuckled.

"Don't worry, just keep going..." Jenson gasped when he resumed. "A four time Formula 1 champion sucking my dick. God, in my wildest dreams. In my wildest dreams..."

Sebastian was giving it his full, undivided attention, just as he did with everything else in his life. With his lips stretched around the full width of Jenson's cock, his mouth glided up and down over the wetness, hand rubbing what he couldn't reach, ridiculous eyelashes laid against his cheeks. He looked up at Jenson to check his responses, a wisp of curly hair fallen in front of his eyes.

Watching her boyfriend staring squarely at another man while sucking him diligently might rank as the hottest thing Stella had ever witnessed in her entire life.

"Enjoying myself loads, Seb." Jenson's voice had mellowed into a lazy, sultry drawl and he massaged his shoulder fondly. "You look incredible doing this. Do you mind if I-" And he placed a hand on top of his head. There was no protest. "I refuse to believe this is your first time. I absolutely refuse to believe it. Stella, your boyfriend is a natural at giving head. You must know this." Sebastian averted his gaze and his ears were turning crimson.

"Of course he is, he's amazing in bed." Filled with silly pride, she snuggled to him and rubbed his back in appreciation. "He's good at everything."

She saw him swallowing and Jenson released a louder groan. "Oh, fuck, yes...oh, fuck, I'm gonna come so quick."

Jenson cupped the back of Sebastian's head and, together with Stella, stroked his shoulders, down his backside and thighs, everywhere they could reach. Stella pressed her thumbs to the dimples on the small of his back and proceeded to run her tongue up the deep ridge of his spine.

There was no denying it, he was definitely aroused.

"Don't worry, I'll help you feel good, love."

She grabbed him between his legs and he immediately moaned around Jenson. He was hard as a rock.

"Tell me what he's like, Stella." And she could hear Sebastian breathing harder. "How much have you really done?"

Pulling out and wiping at his mouth, Sebastian braced himself on both arms. "Just because I'm blowing you it doesn't mean you get to know everything."

"Oh, lord..." Jenson jerked, his nails digging on Sebastian's shoulder blade when he lowered his head and continued sucking him. "You love this, don't you? C'mon, don't think I can't tell. Don't think I didn't notice how much you liked what she did to you either. Before, when we were on the couch." There was a gagging noise from Sebastian and Jenson's muscles tightened up, his face contorting sharply. He was quickly pushing at the German's shoulder now. "Wait, wait. Stop for a moment. Please. Seb, you have to stop now."

A little dazed, Sebastian sat back up while Jenson removed himself from under him. He was all puffy and glossy pink lips and seemed confused at whether he'd done something very good or very bad. Stella decided clarifications were a waste of time and simply swerved his face towards hers. He returned the kiss with hunger and they were cupping each other's faces in an instant, his fingers knotting in her hair tightly.

She dipped her face to his collarbone to cover him in kisses, running her tongue along the dips and hollows and shapes of his upper body, sucking and nipping as she went along, aching for the taste of the sweat on his skin and the coarse texture of his chest hair on her face. Her hands ran up and down his torso and cupped his toned pectoral muscles. He always felt incredible under her touch, so strong yet vulnerable. He gasped against the side of her head when she tweaked his nipples.

The snap of a condom was followed by Jenson moving around on the mattress. He settled behind Sebastian, who quickly glanced one side to another before relaxing at his proximity. Nuzzling the side of his neck, he slid a hand around the German's waist to his front. Stella caught on to it and guided him down.

Sebastian surfaced from her kiss and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. "Fuck..." His voice sounded thicker, swamped in arousal. The moonlight coming in through the window pane fell on his eyes and eyelashes from the side in a flattering angle and the golden hairs on his stubble shone bright.

They wanked him together. Facing up, chest heaving with shallow pants, Sebastian seemed completely undone and she stroked his damp hair back, away from his forehead.

"Jenson," he called out.

"I'm here, tell me... tell me what you need."

Stella saw Jenson's buttocks contracting when he tilted forward in a fluid hip swivel. Sebastian's head lolled back to land on Jenson's shoulder, their host wrapping his free arm around his slim waist.

"Jenson... I need to think about that first, I'm sorry."

"I wasn't going to, I swear," he chuckled. "Certainly never without asking!"

"I know you weren't. I'm just saying in advance, I don't think I'm ready for more." Sebastian gazed up at Jenson. "But you can go back to what you were doing. It felt good."

Jenson's grin was feral and there was another roll of hips. "Is that so?"

"Oh..."

It was a mix of a chuckle and a breathy moan and his arm shot around Jenson's neck. Upright on his knees, back bowed in a perfect curve, thighs flexed and his cock proud and erect in Jenson's hand, he pushed back into the other man's crotch.

The bed was dipping where their knees were set wide apart for balance, the two nestled tightly and grinding together. That was when Stella had a glimpse of it - the tip of Jenson's cock peeking, snug in the middle of her boyfriend's pert buttocks.

She completely missed entirely what Jenson was whispering but Sebastian's fingers at the back of his head were desperate to grasp at something. Cupping the side of his face, Jenson pressed his lips on the corner of his mouth. Heads tilted, they drew closer.

It was clumsy. All tongue and teeth between harsh breaths and noses bumping, Jenson's palms splayed open over Sebastian's thighs, stroking him languorously as they kissed.

The air was saturated with sweat and humidity, the smell of torrid heat and sex everywhere. It dawned on Stella that she had retreated from the action entirely and she didn't care. She was mesmerised, committed to etch every second into her brain.

"Suck", Jenson instructed.

He had cupped Sebastian's jaw and his thumb had slipped in by the corner of his mouth. Blindly, Sebastian only closed his lips around his finger under the scorching gaze from Jenson. A drop of sweat ran down the Brit's sideburn.

"You make me wanna come all over you." Jenson growled, returning to his groin and teasing him with his fingertips. "Do you know... everytime we sprayed champagne on each other on the fucking podium, right there in front of everyone... I had this insane fantasy of locking you somewhere with me?"

Sebastian's eyes squeezed shut. "It's just... adrenaline."

"That's what you tell yourself?"

Sebastian grunted and Jenson shifted, as if looking for a different angle. They dropped forward on all fours on the bed.

"Like this?"

"Yeah...yeah..." Head bowed as Jenson humped him and wanked him with fast strokes at the same time, his body was taut as a wire.

"I'd be on my knees for you, Seb, anytime you wanted. Anywhere. You just had to ask."

His eyes were crinkled, his mouth wide open and gasping. His hand covered Jenson's.

"Why didn't you?"

His face scrunched up; Jenson growled into the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

One after the other they came, their joined hands dirty with pearly white fluid.

They collapsed on the bed next to each other.

***

Monte Carlo's old school glamour was special, Stella contemplated as she took another drag of her cigarette. There was some traffic noise in the distance, scattered voices, music travelling swiftly over the water and floating from various directions. Still riding the heatwave from their evening, she noted how the night too was warmer than usual for the season.

She heard the boys' voices at low volume when she left the bathroom earlier; they had a bottle of Johny Walker with them. She forced herself to leave the pair on their own and returned to the living room to pluck a much needed cigarette from her bag. She had an inkling they had some catching up to do.

Everything felt out of kilter, somehow.

It would happen sometimes, after such nights. And the previous couple of hours did feel as if she'd been high, chemicals pumping through her veins. The crash wasn't so bad as others she'd experienced in the past but this particular aftertaste represented a strange twist.

"Hey."

Equally stark naked, Sebastian rested his elbows on the balcony's balustrade by her side. She stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray she'd stolen from the table.

A finger poked her in the ribs and she bowed her head with a smile, pulling her long hair over one shoulder, before eyeing him from the side. He was already awaiting her gaze, with a smile of his own. They chuckled at the same time.

"You okay?" She cosied up to him and his arm wrapped around her. A kiss on the top of her head brought a contented sigh.

"That was wild."

"You didn't actually believe you'd be watching from the sidelines all night, alone?" She snorted. "I know you better than that, love."

"No, but I-I didn't think it would get... that far. You get carried away."

She muffled another giggle against his collarbone. "Nothing wrong with that."

"Hmm."

"Oh. You're full of regrets already."

"No. Did you have fun?" He asked and she nodded emphatically, grinning at him. "Got what you wanted?"

"Way more than I expected." She dropped a butterfly kiss on his shoulder and he rubbed her arm. She sighed, playing with her fingernails. "I think- remember what you said about keeping some things to us?" She felt him nodding. "I think that... I mean, this is great. Doing all this. It's insane, it's so fucking good. And then there's that insane afterglow and it hits you strong. Yeah. And I... it's odd but, now it also feels-"

Stella didn't know how to explain this foreign emotion. It didn't make a whole lot of sense. She was full and empty; satisfied yet wanting more; feeling luckier than ever and deeply relieved Jenson was happily married.

"Yeah. A bit weird, no?" He supplied, softly.

"Yeah."

The lights at the port flickered. Parties hosted at yachts would be in full swing, clubs were packed. All because of the famous race that took over the principality every year without fail.

"I don't regret this at all," Sebastian stated. "I tried something new, I'm happy that I did it and I wanna do more of that. Not necessarily this, you know," he chuckled, gesturing in a circle as if to encompass them and the house. "I'm not so sure this is something I wanna repeat in the future. But there are many, many other things in life I want to try and find out. Stella, I-" he sighed. "I haven't decided about next season. There's so much I want to do. I want to be there for my kids. I want to be there for you. I don't want you to be the one flying across the world all the time to be with us and I don't want you to sacrifice your career and your dreams so that we can be together. You deserve to have your life too."

She took a deep breath. "No. Sebastian. No. I stand by what I said before. And the time before that. Your choice cannot be based on what you think I need."

"It doesn't work like that. You deserve someone who gives you their time and attention."

"You already do that," she turned in his arms to face him. "I'm with you because I love you, just the way you are. No one else in this world could possibly give me more so stop creating other narratives. Do what makes you happier. You only get one life and racing is something you can only do now. What makes you happy, makes me happy."

"Aww." There was a tender smile playing on his lips and he ran a finger down her nose. "I know. And I love you for that. Which is why I don't want to make the same mistakes."

Her throat turned very dry and she couldn't find fitting words to reply to that.

"Now I'm all sad again that I won't see you for a month," he added, before pulling her in a hug.

To that she could relate. They believed at some point that saying goodbye would become easier, simply because it would be routine and they would get used to it; on the contrary, it seemed to become harder every time.

"Jenson said we're welcome to stay, we can take one of the guest rooms," he said in her ear.

"You wanna stay?"

"As you prefer." A pause. "How awkward would it be tomorrow?"

"For me? Not much." She let out a laugh and he retaliated with a pinch on her side, making her yelp. "He was so nice. A lot of blokes like him are absolute arseholes in bed, but he was not." Sebastian replied with a non-committal hum. "Did you have a nice chat?" She scratched at the centre of his chest with a fingernail and he turned bright red. "Okay, I swear I'll stop teasing. At some point. And, for the record, you don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with."

"Ah but that's silly, how can I not be comfortable with you?"

"Maybe you need to work it out in your head first."

He blinked, as if the idea hadn't occurred to him.

"Let's go back in," she grabbed the ashtray. "Fuck this, I need to stop smoking." She was walking away from the balustrade but Sebastian held her back by her hand.

"Was he better?"

It caught her off guard. Could be a joke but she wasn't sure. She replied with an eyeroll. "Please, as if you don't know the answer to that."

A big grin and he pushed himself from the wall. He spooned her and whispered in her ear, "I agree."

He kissed her cheek and they went back in, sliding the balcony door closed behind them.

The End

[ohbo-ohno]

simon doesn’t like having to play bad cop all the time, but it’s hard when johnny doesn’t take this as seriously as he does :((

johnny doesn’t feel the need to discipline or reprimand reader to the degree simon does. in one way that’s what they disagree on. simon treats reader like glass, while johnny’s more rough and handsy with her, and needs to be reminded constantly of her limits

the boys definitely argue over appropriate punishments though. most of the time it ends in sex, but sometimes simon needs to be physical with reader in a way that isn’t sexual. he’s not downright abusive, but he’s not shy to use a belt or his hands to keep reader from jumping off the deep end.

looove ur brain. kissing ur forehead. semi-nsfw under the cut, and decently dark with talk of noncon spankings and things of the sort :)

the thing with johnny's punishments is that they're almost entirely unintended. like when you fuck up somehow and he gets real scary for second, goes stiff and glares, grip turning far too tight - to you, that's a punishment, or nearing one. and when he fucks you so deep he hits your cervix, slaps your ass with enough force to bruise, it certainly is a punishment. but to him, it's just his reaction. so he's like, unintentionally correcting behavior and doesn't even really notice it.

simon's punishments are clear - you fucked up in this way, and now this is happening. makes you tell him what you did wrong before and after he punishes you, makes sure you understand that you're forgiven, he's not angry, but he expects it to never happen again.

simon draws the line clearly in the sand, but sometimes you feel like you're wandering blindly with johnny. you don't know what his lines are, what he doesn't think is acceptable. he gets rough out of nowhere sometimes, just because he wants to. drives simon fucking insane, but johnny doesn't see the need to curb his desires with you, with either of you. simon tries to get it into his head that they are quite literally attempting to brainwash you here, but johnny just... doesn't really care that much. why are you there if not for him to do what he wants with you? it's not like he's actually hurting you, anyway.

aftercare for punishments is... hard. this isn't a normal bdsm relationship, where a Dom would have an agreement with a sub and every thing would be discussed and understood beforehand. when simon punishes you, it's not something you've agreed on. you don't want him to take his belt to your ass, you don't see it as necessary in the same way he does.

so when he's finished, when the lesson is over and he knows you understand, you don't go to him for comfort. and that fucks with his head in a way he couldn't have expected.

johnny is more than happy to gather your teary form in his arms, to soothe your cries and kiss your head. but simon needs to know you're ok, needs to know that he hasn't fucked everything up. so he slides in with the two of you, johnny more than happy for him to join, but you flinching away and fucking hiding from him, crying out when he lays a hand on your back.

he kicks johnny out the day after the first time this happens. he's pouty about it, but can see the shakiness in simon's eyes, knows he needs whatever it is he's going to do.

simon spends the day glued to you. spreads ointment over your ass, rubs the soreness away. soaks with you in the tub, fills it up with bubbles and lights a candle he knows you love. lays you stomach-down on the bed, gives you a massage while purring praise in your ears. makes you dinner, has you straddle him and feeds it to you by hand.

he has to play bad cop. it's the role he's taken in both yours and johnny's life, one he's almost always enjoyed. but you also have to love him. you can't flinch, can't hide. he is doing what's best for you - he knows that - but he cannot handle your fear, not true fear.

[lady-phasma]

This specific use of the 180 Degree Rule has been nagging me since the last trailer came out. The 180 Degree Rule refers to how the camera frames the subjects in a scene so that they are "switched" when the camera moves. This is less disorienting to viewers than if the subjects stayed on the same side of the frame every time (see example below). It's a small trick, but it is noticeable when it isn't used. Logic tells us they should stay on the same side of the frame but it really doesn't work. If you are interested in understanding this further there is a great sequence in Satoshi Kon's Paprika (2006) that explains it better than I have ever seen anywhere else.

Daemon's War

The exchange between Rhaenyra and Jace in episode 10 conveys so much meaning in so few words. I'm not going to discuss Rhaenyra's desires in this post or if they conflict with Daemon's. That would need its own post all to itself.

Jacaerys: Where is Daemon? Rhaenyra: I don't know. Gone to madness. Gone to plot his war.

Daemon and his motivations are revealed so concisely. There is certainly foreshadowing here, but I appreciate that Rhaenyra knows him so well and has no expectations of him (at this point) beyond what she has seen in the past.

Daemon makes bold assumptions and is arrogant enough to think his way is the best way. When he lists Meleys in their assets there is no doubt in his mind that Rhaenys will side with them in the war. But why does he assume this? What isn't being said is intriguing.

We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys. Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Baela has Moondancer. There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. Then there are the three wild dragons, all of whom nest here.

Then, at some point in season two, we see Daemon presumably stop Rhaenys by grabbing her arm.

This man is manipulative and good at it. Rhaenys is not pleased with him touching her. With no context at all, we only have a few words and body language to interpret. I can't wait to see if I'm correct about this when this episode airs. There is a threat or ultimatum here. Daemon's posture is so self-assured, hand resting on Dark Sister as if whatever he is saying has only one response: agreement.

Correct 180 (from trailer):

Might be helpful to cover one while watching the other.

Incorrect 180 (my edit):

What made this 180 rule from the trailer stick in my mind is how tight the frame is on Rhaenys for her reaction shot. A medium shot on Daemon cuts to a medium close up on her in order to show her facial expression. We can't interpret too much from trailer editing as it is specifically designed to manipulate and distract viewers in a different way from the final product. However, we are given Daemon's dialogue for this particular shot: "We are going to King's Landing." But what next? Why show her disdain, frustration, irritation? Is there an "or else" or some other technique to coerce her and House Velaryon?

Rhaenyra's words are relevant here as well as in the foreshadowing of the upcoming war. Daemon is not asking permission. His hostility, animosity, and wounded ego combine to make him rash. Another example of the applicability of the title The Rouge Prince. This isn't an argument that his character is made more complex by this foreshadowing, but that he has rarely, if ever, hidden his motives. His motivations are always clear even if they shift from selfish to selfless (which is only evident a handful of times). He is morally ambiguous to viewers because much of the time he seems to be amoral. He can stomach things that others cannot. He believes the end justifies the means. I think it will be fascinating to see how the showrunners, writers, and Matt can navigate someone becoming a villain without making him completely one dimensional. He is irredeemable and many of his fans love him for precisely that. He doesn't want to be redeemed. He wants to be in control.

I started writing this last night and today this amazing gifset comes across my dash so I had to link it.

[lattesqueeze]

"how long have you known?" for the prompt game! x <3

hello my darling!! thank you so, so much for sending me a prompt!! here is...this. the fruits of my labours. (leave me alone don't perceive me i can't write these two for love nor money)

i love you!! <33

“I lied,” Sebastian says, cornering Charles halfway down the hall, secluded in an annexe with a frosted window. 

Charles does his best to hold eye contact with Sebastian, all long lashes and simple innocence. There’s something there, in Sebastian’s eyes. Something…not quite suggestive, per se, but there certainly feels to be some degree of implication in the intensity of his gaze.

“Huh?” 

“I said, I lied. I don’t think we need to start by holding hands.”

Charles stares at him, brow furrowed, and Sebastian can almost hear him thinking. A smirk wanders its way across Sebastian’s face, and he quirks an eyebrow at Charles, asking a silent question Charles doesn’t quite know the answer to. 

There’s half a heartbeat of a pause. Charles looks to the side; Sebastian guides his chin back, with a firm but gentle hold. In some semblance of natural instinct, Charles’ lips part slightly. His breath is uncertain, a shallow gasp and a soft sigh both fighting to be heard. 

Sebastian runs his thumb over Charles’ jaw, once, twice, and then he’s leaning in. Charles’ breath catches in his throat as he realises where this is going. His heart feels ready to beat right out of his chest, and he wonders if Sebastian can hear it hammering at a hundred miles an hour. 

He ceases to wonder anything shortly thereafter, though, as soft lips meet his. Sebastian’s lips are a little chapped, windburnt perhaps, but Charles doesn’t mind. God, he doesn’t mind at all. He sighs into the kiss, his lips parting just enough to invite Sebastian’s tongue inside his mouth. 

Charles winds his arms around Sebastian’s neck, intertwining his fingers. Sebastian takes the cue and wraps one arm tighter around Charles’ waist, the other hand holding Charles steady by the hip. Charles’ head fills with white noise, radio static taking over as his lips move in a natural dance with Sebastian’s.

After Sebastian pulls away, Charles takes a moment longer to open his eyes again. When he finally looks back at Sebastian, his eyes are wide, and his breath is shallow.

Neither says anything for what feels like an age. 

“You did want this, right?” Sebastian eventually breaks the silence, concerned. 

“How long…how long have you known?” Charles’ cheeks burn, and he can’t meet Sebastian’s eyes. 

Sebastian rolls his eyes fondly, a smile dimpling his cheeks. He can’t help but shake his head, relieved that he hasn’t misinterpreted the past several months.

“Sweetheart,” He tilts his chin down a little, his expression soft. “Anyone with eyes could see it. Don’t you know I want you too?” 

Sebastian takes hold of Charles’ hand, stroking his thumb back and forth over the inside of Charles’ wrist. Charles knows his features are flushed a deeper scarlet than his favourite Montepulciano wine, and feels a sheen of nervous sweat forming across his forehead. It’s hot - it’s so hot in here - and he resists the urge to fan himself with his free hand. 

“Should probably go…” Charles mumbles. 

“Don’t let Silvia see you like that, hm? Fans’d have a field day if they knew.” Sebastian says with a playful wink, in a bid to lighten the mood. He releases Charles’ wrist, encouraging him on with a smile. 

Charles hesitates as he heads out to the hallway. He turns on his heel, possessed by a spirit not his own, and kisses Sebastian firmly one more time, his fingers finding their way into Sebastian’s sandy hair. He steps back, breathless, a drunk grin slapped across his face. 

“Go!” Sebastian laughs. “We have all the time in the world.”

[max1461]

In sociology and economics, a common way to mathematically model preferences is via weak orderings, which have several equivalent formulations:

1. As a strict partial order for which incomparability of elements is a transitive relation. In this formulation, a < b represents "b is strictly preferred to a", and "a incomparable to b" represents indifference between a and b.

2. As a total preorder, i.e. a total and transitive but not necessarily antisymmetric relation. In this formulation, a \leq b represents "b is preferred at least as much as a", and consequently a \leq b \land b \leq a models indifference.

3. As a utility function f with codomain the real numbers, where f(a) < f(b) represents "b is preferred to a", and f(a)=f(b) represents indifference.

It's clear that (3) is capable of conveying more information than the other formulations, since it can encode not just preference but degree of preference. For the purpose of formalizing a weak ordering, though, this extra information is forgotten.

The point of this post is mainly to say that I do not think weak orderings are a sufficient model for human preferences. I don't think they're terrible, and I think there are domains in which it's reasonable to model preferences via weak orderings, but I also don't think the model is perfect—it is not good enough to represent the ground truth of human psychology, and this should be kept in mind in any applications.

In particular, zooming in on formulation (2): I think the assumption of totality is grievously wrong. It is not in fact the case that humans either have a clear prefer or are indifferent between any two arbitrary options put in front of them. Far from it! Very often people might experience indecision over preferences, that is to say they directly experience two options a and b to be incomparable in a literal sense. Sometimes this is due to lack of information, but sometimes it is inherent: I can think of choices wherein, even in possession of full knowledge of the consequences of options a and b, I would not be able to decide which I preferred—but would certainly not be indifferent between the options!

These "impossible choices" have variously been dramatized and represented in fiction as part of the human condition, and on a more mundane level I think they often occur in everyday life. A not uncommon occurrence, I think, is that a and b are incomparable to each other, but both are strictly dispreferred to inaction, and so when push comes to shove some ad hoc procedure is employed to select between the two. In dramatic terms we might be unable to decide which of our children to save from certain death, but in a more mundane scenario we may simply be unable to decide whether we want to eat an apple or a banana for lunch—both offer different experiences, which are not exactly commensurable with each other—and only end up picking one (via some ad hoc, unprincipled mechanism) on the grounds that either choice is preferable to not eating.

If you've ever been deeply torn between two choices, and found that while neither appears strictly better than the other you would not feel content to choose between them with a coin flip, you have experienced preference incommensurability! This is not the same thing as indifference, either emotionally or practically (in terms of people's behavior), and if your model of preferences cannot differentiate between indifference and incommensurability it is an insufficient model.

We could, in light of this, relax the definition from a total preorder to a partial preorder, and I think this would be somewhat better—although it plainly makes the math harder. But I'm not sure even that would be sufficient; the human experience of wanting is very complex and more granularity may be needed to model it in a way that feels "psychologically adequate".

I don't think these facts, at the end of the day, have too much bearing on domains like economics, where one is working at a low level of granularity with regard to people's preferences anyway. But I'm not a domain expert so I can't say. What I am trying to say is that I think these facts are fairly disastrous for preference utilitarianism as an account of underlying ethical truth. And, as a preferentialist sensu lato about ethics, I regard this as a major mark against the viability of utilitarianism generally.

[flameof]

Okay, Gundam SEED Freedom has completely taken over my brain for the past 24 hours. I ABSOLUTELY MUST GUSH LORE AND PUT IT DOWN SOMEWHERE.

Naturally, there will be major spoilers for Freedom below the cutoff. If you don't want to be spoiled, then TURN BACK NOW, PLEASE.

Okay, we good? Good.

First the lore: A major theme throughout quite honestly the entire SEED series is that of Destiny. Rau le Creuset believed it was humanities destiny to destroy itself, Gilbert Durandal believed humanity would be happiest if their destiny was determined by genetics, and Foundation, the nation introduced in Freedom, follows in Durandal's footsteps, only to a more violet degree.

The main thing that differs Foundation from Durandal is the existence of Accords; basically Ultimate Coordinator MK2. At some point between Ulen Hibiki's initial experiments that created both Kira Yamato and Rau le Creuset, and Durandal being a part of whatever it was when he devised the Destiny Plan (as well as whatever created Rey za Burrel), two particular individuals were a part of the overall scheme. These two were Aura Maha Khyber (the blonde loli), and Lacus' mother.

That's right. Lacus Clyne is an Accord. She, alongside Orphee Lam Tao (blonde dude), were designed with the express purpose of running the Destiny Plan as a couple. Arranged marriage between Coordinators is no big surprise, let's be real. Hell, Lacus was probably genetically coded to be attracted to Orphee, shown in the movie by certain scenes (not show how else to describe them).

But, as you might guess (or know, if you've seen the movie), Lacus still chooses Kira over Orphee. Why? Well, time for some theorycrafting.

It's my believe that the main message of Freedom is one of Nature VS Nurture. Who we are genetically vs Who we are, raised by our environment.

Kira Yamato is a First Generation Ultimate Coordinator, so while he's outstanding compared to normal Coordinators, he pales in comparison to the Accords. But, Kira always said he was more than just the byproduct of Ulen Hibiki's hubris. More than a child of Ulen, he is a Yamato; raised and nurtured by Caridad and Hamura Yamato, after being entrusted to them by Via Hibiki, his mother by blood. Kira's kindness may very well be engrained into his DNA, but it was something he was taught to value by the Yamato's. He could have easily become conceited, like so many other Coordinators, but he didn't.

Just the same, Lacus Clyne, as far as we knew up to Destiny, was raised by the late Siegel Clyne, who almost certainly taught her to value people based on who they are, not what they represent. She can be cunning underneath her cheerful exterior in her youth, but she gravitated towards Kira because he was Kira Yamato; the kind boy who stuck his neck out for a stranger.

A wise dragon once said: Destiny is little more than the sum of our choices. I feel this quote perfectly encapsulates the core of SEED as a whole, not just Freedom. Destiny shouldn't be something chosen for you; it should be something you yourself choose. And in the end, Lacus chose Kira. A common theme in Freedom was the idea of 'Loving someone because you need them', which Lacus herself refutes with "You don't love someone because you need them; You need them, because you love them". Its a sentiment that Kira actually shares, when the woman holding Lacus at knife point threatens to cut our her tongue, or gouge her eyes out, and see if Kira still loves her then, Kira's immediate response... is of course I'd still love her; she's Lacus.

The Destiny Plan, laid out by Durandal, and worked on by so many, like Aura and Lacus's mother, was (ha ha) destined to fail, and I believe it all comes back to the choices two parents, unrelated to each other, made for the sake of their children. Because Via Hibiki got Kira and Cagalli to the Yamato's and Athha's, and all because Siegel Clyne taught Lacus to value the kindness of a stranger, over the power of your destiny.

Funnily enough, I'm remembering a line Kuzzey says back in SEED, about just how much work went into making Lacus's voice the way it is. Turns out; a lot.

It also makes me wonder if Meer Campbell was something of a backup plan, since she sounds identical to Lacus.

Okay, gushing about the new lore done. Now, let's talk about the awesome.

First off: The Immortal Justice is a Shinn Asuka suit, not an Athrun Zala suit. I don't make the rules, but Athrun never sat his ass down in the Immortal Justice.

Next, Agnes Giebenrath can literally be described as 'Coordinator Flay Allster', and I appreciate her for that.

Then, there's all the callbacks to other characters that had passed away, specifically Nicol and Natarle. Those two had complete maneuvers and tactics named after them. They're gone, but never forgotten.

As I mentioned in my last SEED Freedom post, Athrun did stuff with the Z'Gok that would make Char envious. The way Athrun handled that machine made me think he was Master Asia, Undefeated of the East.

Next, as we all well know by now, the way Athrun managed to get one up on the Black Knights' ability to read his mind; by thinking about having sex with Cagalli.

Next! Once more Mu La Flaga proves himself to be the man who does the impossible... by face-tanking FREAKING REQUIEM WITH THE AKATSUKI! Man practically said he had to stop doing that.

Then, there's the new warship, Millennium. Not only is it state of the art, but Murrue, once she starts captaining it, gets her own assault deck where she controls FREAKING GUNBARRELS! The Millennium is a warship sized Moebius Zero!

Finally, for the last thing I want to gush about: Shinn Asuka. Just... all of him. From the fact that he's calmer, earnest, stands up for Kira, drinks his 'respect' juice, and at the end, when he gets the Destiny Gundam back, he faces off against four of the Black Knights, and kicks their asses... WITHOUT TAKING MAJOR DAMAGE. Not only that, but STELLA LOUSSIER makes a comeback, proving definitively that Shinn Asuka is the Kamille Bidan of the CE era, by protecting Shinn's mind from being probed by the Black Knights, freaking them out by going all nightmare on their asses (which is probably just a representation of them being scared by just how much darkness is in his heart), and then immediately followed by him putting the F91 to shame and using the much meme'd about afterimages to kick ass and take names. Shinn may have lost to them before, but only because he wasn't using the machine literally built for him. Also, before I forget, when Shinn went SEED mode during that same battle, the Black Knights couldn't read his mind. Shinn's instincts are just that good.

Okay. I'm done. I've gushed all I can.

[seafoamreadings]

week of sunday august 27th, 2023

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: if it feels like a bit of a lead weight on your soul all week, that's a saturn thing. this week's full moon in your 12th house is conjunct saturn, so you have a lot of feelings and it can seem like they're dragging you into a viscous horrible fluid by a lead anchor on your feet or concrete shoes. it isn't all as bad as it feels. the way out is to accept it, maybe retreat into a sort of hermit mode, sit with and listen to the emotions. on the other side of the full moon you start to float back up.

taurus: uranus goes retrograde in your sign. more retrograde phenomena are to follow next week. meanwhile also a full moon in pisces suggests a quiet night or two or several at home, even though socializing can be beneficial on ordinary full moons. this is not one. the stereotype that weird things happen and emergency rooms are more busy on full moons has to do with lunar antics like this.

gemini: focus on your home life, your family of origin, and your ancestry this week, especially if you have ancestral wounds or trauma and no one but yourself to heal your lineage. retrograde activity supports you in this work. it's not always fair that you have to do it, but you can heal the past and the future.

cancerians: the pisces full moon is one you can connect to viscerally as a water sign. but be advised it is conjunct saturn within a couple degrees and this can make it feel heavy and mundane compared to ordinary pisces full moons. therefore it likely takes on a melancholy tone and is less energizing for you than you would prefer. yet you're just as psychic and intuitive as ever, if you commit yourself to listening.

leo: you are the only sign i think this week's full moon on saturn REALLY benefits. if you have a magical practice or if you love to manifest, whatever you work on under that auspice gets plunked down into the 3D earth by heavy saturn. if you're not that sort at least launch a project or work on a goal or wish on a star or something!

virgo: a full moon in pisces highlights your relationships. maybe they go a little nuts. maybe YOU go a little nuts. that's okay. saturn keeps things somewhat realistic although if you refuse to see certain truths you may find things get more depressing than they needed to. try to keep your chin up! saturn brings wisdom when you work with him. that can lead to brighter times.

libra: be advised that if you've been neglecting your health in anyway it is likely to force you to deal with it this week due to the full moon conjunct saturn. and if it isn't about health it's about some aspect of your daily life, perhaps something you thought was too boring or ugly to bother about until now.

scorpio: many MANY changes are brewing in your life right now, in almost every facet of it, this week and next. fortunately you're the zodiac's alchemist, no question. don't neglect to turn the lead of this week's saturn vibes into gold, by hook or by crook. life is a spell and you are, certainly for now, the cauldron.

sagittarius: like your opposite sign gemini, you're slated to do ancestor work this week. if you're not typically the family genealogist you may find yourself deep in research or stories about your family's past. some will be good and others not so good. you will see how it affects you psychically, and find ways to heal. for you a bright light is cast on a dark shadow no one has acknowledged in a long time, in your lineage or your earliest years.

capricorn: keep a notebook or something close by this week. the astrology brings you inspirations and brilliant ideas and yet, so saturnine as the week is, if you wait too long to get it out of your head it will become too heavy to extract.

aquarius: retrogrades of your ruling planet are long and in the end just part (almost half) of the texture of life. but the one starting this week is a little unique as it occurs among many other retrogrades. furthermore the moments (days) surrounding the station either direction are typically strange. and by strange i mean not in a gradual way, but lightning bolts of things too serious to be coincidence. at the same time, the full moon in pisces cautions you against irresponsible spending or hiding your values, although it may be tempting.

pisces: a melancholy, saturnine full moon occurs in your sign this week. don't let any depressive episode drag you down, at least as well as you can help it. douse yourself in golden sunlight, and gold jewelry, and you will likely also respond very well to silver, and to music. especially if you can find something upbeat and happy to listen to (or compose!) or at least something catchy.