#tangerine dream my beloved

[nevertoomanyspiders]

oh yeah re:playlists

sure I share my longass playlists with friends but that is generally if i have a pretty good idea of what they like or if they're looking for something new to listen to.

one bubbly and cutesy character may have a mostly J-pop and eurobeat saturated playlist while another may be kinda gloomy and edgy and have darkwave and industrial tunes. a 70s themed character will have 70s pop and rock (but especially prog rock lol)

but yeah. i tend to be biased towards electronic music in most cases but i do like supplementing with appropriately themed music.

music tastes can be very particular and I'm pretty picky about what i might get into. acoustic guitars are definitely one thing i am aggressively not fond of due to their overuse, but depending on how it's played, how the vocalist sounds, what the song is about may change my mind. but on most part, naw thank you. (looks at lutes in medieval and renaissance music) you're on thin ice.

edit: grabbing my tag novel from the previous post:

#i make playlists to listen to while i draw#i don't make them for some rando to try to get a read on my OCs asfdsag#that and idk i listen to mostly instrumental music#or songs with nonsensical lyrics#music to me is about The Vibes and not so much the meaning#if I was to find a perfect song to describe a character of mine it'd be weird because that is not how i listen to music#music#so yeah it's unlikely i'll try to make mixtapes anytime soon#oh yeah there's also the fact of like. the genres i like may not mesh with someone else's tastes#i ramble

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

not my most-listened to artist of the year being the obscure electronic/instrumental/soundtrack artist i listened to as focus music while writing my dissertation 🙈

[eternalslover]

Bullet train incorrect quotes:

Y/n: Hey I’m about to get in the shower. You wanna join me?

Tangerine: There’s a pistol taped underneath the island in the kitchen. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to shoot me. Aim for the head, don’t stop until I’m dead.

[lonestardust]

this was playing in the tarloft when iris visited! i love how Carlos and TK always put on music when they have people over!! i love diegetic music so much; something so intimate about knowing what's on a character's playlist and how they enjoy listening to music, it brings a certain type of tangibility; to know their little habits and their taste in things!!

[seren1tyhaze]

poison in my mind

PAIRING: idol!jisung x afab older stylist reader

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

SUMMARY: he has been your poison for years - Jisung with his innocent looking face, steely gaze, and wicked tongue. you do your best to keep a professional relationship with him during your work as a stylist for NCT Dream but his calls of "Noona" on set continue to test your patience.

AUTHOR NOTE: A VERY belated happy birthday to Andy Park and a big thank you to SM for letting us have that Poison live performance at the end of the year. This has been half written ever since the Poison track video behind vlog went up a million years ago but fueled even more by the dance intro at MMA. His more recent lives may have also served as inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this very self indulgent fic made especially for all my friends who also love Jisung <3

WARNINGS: explicit smut, idolverse, pet names (including Noona kink I'm so sorry)

PLAYLIST: Poison by NCT Dream, Quiet Down by NCT Dream, OK! by NCT U

dreaming 'bout you, dreaming 'bout you

~~ The set is buzzing with nervous energy in the dimly lit space, dark blue light cascading over the stage area dressed with large floral arrangements that almost make it look like the ocean floor. Renjun is talking to the camera filming their behind vlog footage and you look up from the shirt you are steaming when you hear his voice. 

“Dream will try for the sexy vibe for the first time,” with a sly smirk.

You can’t help but chuckle as the makeup artist next to you elbows your side and you tut at her, waving the steamer to quiet her. It wasn’t a secret that the Poison track video was going to be beloved by fans because of the concept and the way the members were styled. You had been tasked with pulling some of the key looks for the video, taking an opportunity to incorporate different textures like the metal grommets and fringe on the leather jacket Renjun currently was wearing. You watch proudly as he stretches his arms over his head in the center of the flowers, torso muscles rippling under the sheer mesh shirt.

You hadn’t been on staff for very long, a couple years of working under the main stylist under your belt. They had been hesitant to give you bigger opportunities due to your young age and lack of experience, but your boss saw that you had a great eye. It didn’t hurt that you were always the first one to volunteer for less than desirable tasks and always arrived early to shoots and stayed late.

“Sorry, this one’s a little too small, did you have others?” comes a voice behind you and you turn to see Mark, holding out one of the large metal rings you had laid out for him in his dressing room.

“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” you reply, smiling softly at him before kneeling down to dig in your bag for the small pouch holding the extra accessories. He was always so polite to the staff, greeting everyone and even when he was clearly exhausted, doing as many takes as the director needed.

“This one might work better and it’s adjustable,” you reply, taking his hand and sliding the ring on his pointer finger. You squeeze his hand gently before he inspects the rings, holding it out in front of him.

“Noona,” comes a harsh and low voice suddenly, causing you to move your head to the side of Mark’s leather clad legs to see an annoyed looking Jisung with crossed arms, shirtless and barefoot.

“Jisung, where is your shirt?” Mark replies, half laughing as he turns to face him, scratching at the back of his neck.

Ignoring him, Jisung returns his gaze to you and glares at your crouched position on the floor in front of Mark. A curious Renjun walks up at this moment, peeling a tangerine and flicking narrowed eyes between the three of you. Mark shrugs at him before walking away, answering a message on his phone.

“You tailored the crotch of these pants wrong, it feels weird,” Jisung continues, voice even and tinged with frustration.

Your face flushes at this, dropping the pouch back in your bag and grabbing your pins, suddenly on your feet and in front of Jisung.

“How do you know it’s wrong?” you ask, knitting your brows together as you look up at him. 

He looks good and you know he knows it. Something has shifted in Jisung in the past year - especially since they returned from tour. He carries himself differently, with a different level of confidence and wears it well. Today is no different and the fact that he just barged onto set without a shirt on is evidence. His dark blue hair is styled perfectly, long strands dangling in his eyes and contrasting beautifully with his sharp jawline.

“Here, feel,” he tells you simply, pulling your hand to his crotch and you almost let yourself palm him through the tight denim until you snap back to reality and pull your arm back. His eyes hold no emotion, dark and still, long eyelashes blinking at you temptingly. His lips are soft and plump and you want nothing more than to close the distance between the two of you and taste the glossy lip mask.

And there it is, your poison, Park Jisung. When you had graduated early from your program a few years ago, you had been focused on your career and hadn’t spent much time dating. You had some people you went out on dates with every once and a while and had your fair share of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a long night out. But Jisung had caught you by surprise. Something about the way he was so forward and aggressive with you made your brain turn to mush around him. Your heartbeat would quicken, palms sweat, and filthy thoughts would swirl in your mind until you could indulge in them with your hand pressed between your thighs later that night.

A heavy sigh comes from Renjun, accompanied by a shake of his head, as he walks out a nearby door muttering something about not wanting to see Jisung’s dick.

You flush violently, grabbing at Jisung’s bicep harshly and pulling him to his dressing room, leaving the door propped open intentionally as you take the layered black tank off the hanger and hold it out to him.

“Please put the rest of your outfit on, I think they are going to be ready for you soon,” you sigh as soon as you’re alone, reaching for the box that holds the platform boots you were reusing from a shoot with Haechan a couple months prior.

You both move silently as he pulls the shirt over his head, staring at the long leather cords before lifting his head back up to you. You move behind him, reaching over his broad shoulders to pull the leather cords around his neck and then letting the ends dangle in front of his toned chest. You try to avoid brushing your hands against his bare shoulders as he steps into the boots and ignore that his ass brushes against your stomach when he bends down slightly to zip them up.

“I just don’t know about these pants, are they the right length?” he asks, tugging at the material at his thighs. His tone is whining and defiant, lighter than how he was in front of everyone, but still slightly combative. He knows you’re weak for this very tone, as he can usually get you to do whatever he wants if he just adds it into whatever he says.

You sigh and move around him, dropping to your knees at his feet, slapping his hand away from pulling at the fabric. You pull the pants leg out of his left boot, pulling lightly and examining the hemline. You’re about to correct him when you suddenly feel his hand soft on your hair.

“You look so good from this angle,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry, causing you to jerk your head up and look at him from the floor.

Your lower lip is instantly caught in your teeth, sinking into the flesh deeply as you try to control your breathing, unable to stop yourself from blinking up at him. You feel drawn into his dark eyes and his hand in your hair is almost overwhelming.

He lets out a groan, tightening his fingertips on your scalp, exhaling audibly and clenching his other hand into a fist at his side.

“What am I going to do with you,” he tuts, dropping his hand to your chin and gripping it gently.

You rise from your knees, glancing at the open door just as Jaemin bounces by, screaming at something Haechan is doing. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step forward, adjusting the cords aimlessly.

“What happened to my sweet, innocent Jisung?” you whisper, staring at the soft skin of his collarbone and wishing you could press your lips against it forever.

“Don’t act surprised. You created this monster, Noona, dressing me in all these sexy outfits. How could you think I would stay your bright eyed baby Sungie forever?” he asks back, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear. His words are biting, even if they do hold some truth.

Memories of him dozing off on your shoulder during long bus rides and hastily helping him into heavy jackets and necklaces during quick changes on tour come flooding in, mixed with the heavy, lustful stares you feel on you when you wear a low cut shirt or on hot summer days in Thailand when you wore thin athletic shorts in the airport.

He had kissed your lips gently a year ago after many bottles of soju and when the rest of the members were preoccupied by endless rounds of karaoke. You had stopped him then, told him that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Ever since that moment, he had made every effort to get you alone when he could, using every excuse under the sun, today’s outburst nothing new. You still remember how soft his lips felt on yours and the fire under your arm as he held you close after you rejected him.

Back on set, you’re packing up your bag again when you’re called over to check something on the computer from Jeno’s scenes. You give your feedback and suddenly your eyes are drawn up to where Jisung is filming, camera close to his face, light illuminating his beautiful features perfectly.

“Dreaming ‘bout you, dreaming ‘bout you,” echoes across the large soundstage and your heart is pounding in your chest as he plays with the cords at his neck, just as you had earlier, chests pressed up against each other in the dressing room. He makes eye contact with you briefly when the take ends and you look away quickly, embarrassed.

While you had been released to go for the day, you take your time packing the rest of your stuff, helping the makeup artists clean their station and even rearranging some chairs that barely needed adjustment. You watch the way he moves confidently, take after take, adjusting the jacket so his shoulders show boldly against the dark material. His fingers brush through the cords, pulling them up to his teeth at times before dropping them, leaving plump lips open before cracking a large smile at the reaction of the staff. In between takes he shakes his dark hair, casting his gaze down to the floor until someone asks him a question. You watch as he smiles and winks at the makeup artist powdering his cheek and you feel nervous energy stir in your stomach. You can’t bear to watch much more, so you slip out when he isn’t looking in your direction.

When you finally are home, feet pushed into fluffy slippers and sipping on steaming green tea you had just prepared, you peel the sheet mask off and rub the remaining serum into your cheeks and forehead. You are flipping through a magazine your coworker had given you on set, paying attention to the tabbed pages they had flagged for inspiration when your phone buzzes on the table next to you. A message from the head stylist fills your screen as you tap into it.

Jisung left his street shoes at set, did you take them home? He said he “needs them” for tomorrow. 

You sigh and go to the shoebox by your door to find his Nike sneakers tucked neatly, laces wrapped nicely. You quickly reply to your boss, saying you don’t mind bringing them to the dorm since you know the managers had a late night meeting tonight. Running a brush through your hair, you dot some perfume on your wrists and behind your ear before grabbing your keys.

You fiddle with the edge of your oversized sweater in the elevator as you climb the floors to his dorm, feeling a nervous pit grow in your stomach. Finally outside, you knock quickly before dropping it down to hold the box with both hands.

The door swings open and Jisung is standing tall in front of you, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp. A dark zip-up hoodie covers his chest and it’s unzipped just enough that you can tell he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You can’t help but let your mind wander back to shirtless Jisung pulling your hand to his crotch earlier and wonder if he was just lounging in his room in the sweatpants. Or worse, just his boxers.

“Hi baby,” he slurs out, lips curving up at the edge into a mischievous smile as he props his arm up on the door, leaning down as if he might kiss you. His sweatshirt hikes up on his waist when he does this, revealing a large swath of skin.

You shove the box at him, pushing him back into the room with it, letting it drop into his hands. You fling your bag on the table near the door and step out of your shoes.

“Don’t hi baby me, Park Jisung. I know you left these there so you could see me tonight. Did it really take you multiple hours to realize you weren’t wearing the shoes you came in?” you reply with a huff, picking up a sealed water bottle on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.

Sweat is pricking at your hairline and you are starting to regret not texting one of the assistant managers or drivers to come get the shoes instead.

Jisung chuckles and sets the shoebox on a chair, reaching out to take the water bottle from you and gulping down the rest.

“Don’t be mad, baby,” he replies, leaving heavy emphasis on the pet name, stepping closer to you and wrapping strong arms around your waist, thumbs instantly finding the hem of your sweater and travelling across your lower back.

You can’t help how your body reacts to his touch, feeling your chest meet his, nipples hardening under the knit fabric now tugged down and exposing your cleavage. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes for the second time today.

“Come on, I’m catching up on our show,” he says softly, lips grazing across your cheek gently. You had been watching the same show for the past few months, texting each other during episodes here and there, and chatting about it whenever you saw each other. He had complained none of the other members would watch it with him and while you would never let him know this, you had lied and said you were also planning to watch it.

Against your better judgement, you let him guide you to his small room, where his large tv is paused on the latest episode of the space docuseries.

“Oh, I haven’t watched this one yet,” you admit, dropping down to sit at the edge of his bed.

He clicks to restart the episode and unzips the sweatshirt, moving to remove it and reveal his bare chest.

“Jisung,” you say sternly and he chuckles, zipping it back up halfway, and plopping down on the bed next to you. He pulls the hood up over his dark hair for good measure before propping himself up against the pillows he has leaned against the wall. You settle back, leaving some space between the two of you and pulling a hamster plushie into your lap to nervously fiddle with.

While your eyes had started to get heavy back at your apartment, you are now wired, your body coursing with electricity and hypersensitive to every movement from the man next to you. He reaches for his phone occasionally, letting out light chuckles at messages from Chenle and even daring to post a couple Bubble messages. You thank whatever higher power exists that your phone was still tucked in your bag at the door, so he didn’t see yours light up when he sent the message. It was a drunken guilty pleasure you had indulged in and ever since receiving the first message tailored with your name, you couldn’t stop yourself from renewing the subscription.

His legs keep brushing against yours when he readjusts his position on the bed and somehow has gotten so close that his shoulder is now brushing against yours. You try to shift away, but he only closes the distance again when you do so. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re having a difficult time focusing on the show.

Suddenly the screen is filled with bright colors as they depict beautiful graphics of what scientists imagine the birth of a star looks like and a gasp falls from your lips as you lean forward, eyes flickering across the screen to take in the beautiful scene.

“You’re so pretty when you nerd out over this stuff,” comes his low voice, suddenly close to your ear, hand resting in the middle of your back.

You lean back in reaction, trapping his arm between you and the pillow, turning slightly to face him.

“Coming from NASA’s number one stan, please,” you reply lightly, shoving the plushie at him playfully. You let a chuckle fall from your lips and shake your head lightly, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulders.

He grabs at it and throws it off the edge of the bed, hands suddenly tight on your hips and pulling you into his lap, possessively gripping your ass as you straddle his legs. 

Your lips drop open in surprise, both of you breathing heavy at the sudden movement. You feel your responsible self tapping your shoulder but finally decide to let the years of desire bubble to the surface and propel your lips to close the gap with his.

You move your lips across his gently, resisting the urge to push your tongue out immediately or bite down on his lower lip. He tightens his grip on you in response, pushing his crotch up to meet yours. You swear you can feel him through his pants which only makes you want him more.

He pulls away, taking your cheek in his other hand and looking between your eyes as if searching for some sort of silent answer to a silent question. You can almost see his own voice of reason forcing him to pause, if only for a moment.

“You ready to deal with the consequences of that monster you created, Noona?” he asks in a devastatingly low tone before moving his lips down to mouth at your chest, pushing the knit fabric to the side to bite at your shoulder.

A sigh falls from your lips as you let your head roll back, entire body on fire as he marks the skin at your neck, teeth sharp on your skin. You can’t help as your hands slide over the zipper of his hoodie and unzip it slowly, pushing the fabric down his shoulders to expose his toned chest. Running your hands over his hard muscles, you dig your fingernails gently, eliciting a deep groan from Jisung.

“Babyyy,” he sighs out, sliding his hand up to your throat and applying pressure there, pulling you forward to meet your lips again. The kiss is more urgent this time, tongue pressing deep into your mouth and hand gripping you tighter as he continues.

You let your hands slide down his torso, running over his abs and sliding them to his back to pull yourself closer to him. Before you can pull yourself fully flush against his chest, you are being flipped over, head falling back into the pillowy surface.

“Are you sure about this,” you ask, voice wavering despite every intention you had to form a confident question. Your eyes are flicking between his dark ones, as they had many times before, but suddenly holding so much more meaning in this intimate space.

“Are you not?” he asks back, head cocking lightly to the side, thumbs never stopping the circles they are rubbing into your hip bones.

“That’s not an answer,” you quip back, grabbing onto his hands to force him to focus. Unfortunately for you, it did the exact opposite.

You pull your eyes away from his, looking at your hands now pressed up against each other against the comforter. Your hand looks tiny next to his, his fingers could almost wrap fully around the tops of yours and that makes your mind fuzzy. You pulse your fingers, stretching them along his, feeling the length of them and how hot they are to the touch.

“Noona,” he calls, not as harsh and biting as on set, but still drawing you back to reality quickly.

His voice finally softens as he sees your watery blinking eyes, overstimulation creeping up on you before you’ve done much more than make out. He drops his thumb down the side of your face, caressing the space between your ear lobe and jaw tenderly. You want to look away, you want to push up and capture his lips in yours, you want to pull that stupid hamster plushie over your face and hide your burning cheeks.

“You know, I want it, I like,” he states, as if that is a full sentence other than in the context of the song they were filming with all day. His lips turn up in a small, shy smile at the end, showing a glimpse of that quiet boy you’ve always known and your heart settles a little in your chest. You nod rapidly a few times, sinking your nails into the palm of his hand and letting your eyes flutter shut.

His lips are on yours again quickly and that wicked hand that was just caressing your skin is now tightening around your neck again, which forces you up into an arch on the bed, pressing your lower body against his hardening cock. His tongue feels hot and wet in your mouth and you can’t help the moans that are escaping every time you have to pull back for air.

He sits up, straddling either side of your legs, tugging at your shirt and you manage to sit halfway up on your elbows, almost tearing the delicate fabric of your sweater as you rip it off, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as Jisung’s mouth is suddenly latched onto your neck, dropping heated kisses down your collarbone.

He sees you struggling and simply presses a strong thumb to the clasp, letting the cotton fabric slide off your arms and he tosses it clear across the room. This draws your attention to the door, which you realize now is cracked and you pray to every higher power that Renjun isn’t home.

“Hey, eyes on me,” comes the low voice above you again and you’re drawn back in, tuning out the distractions around you. He seems more amused than annoyed, which you have to appreciate given how long you’ve both waited for this exact moment.

Jisung makes quick work of removing his pants and boxers, reaching for a condom from his nightstand as you push down your own sweats, pausing at the thin band of your underwear. He sees you, dropping the foil packet to the bed and dips his head down, teeth dragging the elastic quickly, causing you to jump and let out a giggle.

“SUNG!” you yell weakly, trying to push his dark blue locks away as he continues to drag the dampened fabric down your legs.

He somehow manages to do it pretty easily, without getting too caught up on your knees or thighs, only struggling once he’s at your ankles and ripping them off with his hand, letting them drop to the floor with your bra.

He simply shrugs at you, a smile tugging at his mouth as he smooths those huge hands over your thighs, kneading the flesh there, eyes transfixed on your naked body. Your whole body is on fire and you silently beg for him to get on with it, even as it looks like he is about to swallow you whole.

A creeping monster your in your brain tells you you should feel more self conscious with him seeing you like this, despite both being equally exposed, realizing how many times you’ve seen him half clothed or even less. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he reaches up, covering your breast easily with his hand, thumb teasing your nipple absently. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but hold your breath as pleasure begins to flood through your body. 

You beg your own gaze not to lower, not ready to see the size of him fully hard. You’ve unfortunately seen almost all the members’ dicks but usually in quick, embarrassed, accidental glimpses. Well, except for that one time Jaemin was literally helicopter swinging it around in the dressing room when you walked in with a tray of iced americanos. Both him and Jeno couldn’t speak to you for two weeks while Chenle continued to bring it up every chance he could, even mimicking the motion during sound check at their next stop.

You are startled at the sound of him tearing the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly on and leaning back down, face inches from yours as he cups the side of your face again. You instinctively nuzzle lightly into his hand at the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut as you draw your lips to his hand, smelling faintly of the lube from the condom. You kiss in between his thumb and forefinger lightly and before you know it, he’s slipping his thumb in between your spit covered lips, pad of his finger gently pressing against your tongue.

You gasp but drag your eyes lazily to meet his, knowing your own hunger is visible now not only in your gaze but also in the eager sucking of your lips.

He groans, taking the chance to push into you and you swear you see stars. Your eyes widen but pull his thumb further into your mouth, teeth grazing across the tip of his finger erratically as your hips buck up to pull him impossibly close.

Jisung’s eyes are fluttering shut, thumb dropping from your lips, now flushed red with teeth marks and slick with spit, sliding down to clutch your throat once again. Your own hand flies to your chest, groping at yourself, desperate for something to hold onto as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

He’s quiet, but with deep and passionate groans tumbling from his lips every once and a while. You watch as sweat begins to form at his hairline, perfect face beautiful in the dim light of his room, quiet music floating from his tv’s speakers as the episode is long forgotten and scrolling through the credits screen endlessly. Each noise that bubbles up from his chest equally soothes and paralyzes you, your own personal brand of poison seeping coldly through your veins. Your lips are perpetually hung open, mouth becoming so dry you can barely squeak out your own moans.

You feel your orgasm building suddenly after a particularly strong thrust and you swallow harshly, moving to speak to alert him. He doesn’t need any warning, reaching down to throw your leg over his shoulder and angle his lower body to perfectly hit that same spot over and over.

In seconds the poison is washing over you, lapping first at your feet like waves at the shore, nearly knocking you out as you float high above yourself, almost feeling like you’re having an out of body experience. Your chest is heaving as he slows his movements, as if he’s going to pull out. 

A confused look forms on your face, head cocking to the side as you grip his arm, shaking your head wildly. Your hair is sticking to the back of your neck and you feel too hot on his plush bedding, but that isn’t reason to stop.

“Wait…what about…” you ask, confused, knowing he hasn’t come. Your eyes flick to the door again, wondering if he’s heard something while you were swimming a galaxy of bliss post orgasm.

He smiles at you, sliding out slowly and disposing of the condom quickly. He walks back over and takes your hand, bringing you to rise on shaky legs, standing naked beside his bed as he takes both your cheeks in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.

“I was thinking it would be better to continue what we started on set,” he purrs against you when he finishes ravaging your swollen lips.

A mischievous look forms in your eyes and you drop your hand to his stiff cock, giving it a few experimental pumps with the mix of lube and pre cum.

“Oh yeah?” is all you can reply, sinking slowly to your knees, still managing to tease him at this moment. You drop your hands to let them rest at your thighs, pressed together in an attempt to cool the burning heat still there.

He hisses out as soon as he can see you below him, bicep flexing as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head in feigned annoyance. His lids are heavy and all you can see are the whites of his eyes as they roll up in ecstasy.

You run your hands up your body, fingering the side of your neck and then tangling your fingers in your own hair seductively, never looking away from the man standing above you.

“Show me how good you can be for me, Noona,” he grunts out suddenly, gripping your chin way tighter than he had in the dressing room earlier. You grit your teeth but try to keep your face even as he tilts your head lightly, as if studying your face.

You gulp audibly and take him in your hands, finally faced with what you already knew was going to be stretching your cheeks as you were definitely going to struggle fitting him in your small mouth.

You tongue at his slit teasing it gently before sucking at the tip, letting it rest in your open mouth, eyes flicked up at him menacingly. You can tell from the look in Jisung’s eyes that he is dying to ram his cock down your throat but is trying so hard to let you set the pace.

Without any warning, you're sliding him further and further into your mouth, hands massaging his smooth calves to ground you. He’s getting louder now and one of his hands is playing in your hair, every once and a while gripping it tighter.

It only takes a few gentle thrusts till his voice becomes more strained and he’s tapping you on the head as a poor attempt of warning you he’s close. You resolve to let him spill into your mouth, but as soon as he comes the sudden movement causes most of the mess to land on your cheek and shoulder.

His loud exclamation of his pet name for you still ringing in the air, his hand loosens in your hair and you’re on your feet, hands settling on his broad chest, a hazy look of satisfaction on your face.

He seems mesmerised by you covered in his cum and draws a thumb up to that same spot between your ear and jaw, sliding it down and through the mess he made on your face. It’s as if everything’s moving in slow motion as your bottom lip drops open without a word and he slides his thumb into welcoming lips. You taste him, all of him, as he watches you suckle on the digit and blush form on your cheeks under the shine of your skin.

“Fucking filthy baby,” he whispers out, yanking you towards him as he sits on the edge of his bed and lifts you into his lap. 

You can feel him harden under you and feel yourself warm up as his cock brushes against your core. You grind down on his lap which is met by him only gripping your waist tighter and landing a light smack on your ass. You grin at this and lean forward to kiss him, pushing your tongue greedily into his mouth.

“Already wanting more?” he asks with a mild mocking tone when you pull back, breathless and red in the face. He’s fully groping your ass at this point, massaging your cheeks with his fingers and pressing his palms into the thick flesh there.

You nod aggressively as you grind down on his cock again, spreading your thighs a bit more for better leverage. You want nothing more than for him to slide his bare cock into you right here and let you ride him through multiple orgasms, your tits bouncing right at eye level as he groans into your mouth through open mouthed kisses.

He merely laughs, pulling you out of your fantasy and reaches awkwardly for another condom, hand firmly keeping you in place.

“As much as I want what you want right now baby, let’s make sure there’s no-“ he starts out, rolling the condom on with shaky hands.

“SUNG, PLEASE!” you yell, clasping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Even in the midst of it all, all the lustful years leading up to this moment, all the hidden glances and late night drunken thoughts, he is still your poison. Something that worms its way into your mind, into your heart. Normally, you wouldn’t even imagine being this close to someone without protection but somehow, Jisung does something to you that makes you want to be reckless. You want to be reckless with your heart, let it be swallowed whole by him. You want to throw your body on him, let him tear you down and degrade you and use you. You want to give him everything and every bit of love you can offer. You think you can see the two of you growing old together, sitting quietly in a park watching your grandchildren play together in the distance.

But you see, that’s the problem with poison. It gets in your veins, in your lungs, in your heart and slowly sweeps and finally, finally tears you down. You float high above yourself again, seeing stars as Jisung releases into the condom and his head falls against your chest. You are both quiet and unsure of what comes next. The poison of this night will wear off soon and reality will set in, leaving you only the memories of this night to return to in your dreams.

~~

[dd122004dd]

Without you, There is no me

After the battle with Imhotep the Medjai return home to their beloveds. Even Ardeth has someone waiting for him.

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Hello! This was a requested fic. Unfortunately my tumblr acted up and ate up the request and I can’t exactly recall who sent it, so if you’re the person who told me they loved the way I wrote Ardeth Bay and that they wanted a fluffy romantic fic with a fem reader, please do dm me and I’ll tag you in this fic. Also, thank you for your lovely request, I tried to encapsulate the feelings I felt while reading your request and apologies in advance if this is a little shorter than usual.

The sun slowly melted into the golden dunes of the desert as the sky was bathed in a heady mix of crimson, tangerine and mahogany. The hot desert air slowly cooling as the glowing rays faded, descending further into the horizon. Darkness descended over the camp as the stars arose, twinkling gently alongside the moon.

The plagues upon the land had disappeared, the Medjai officials in the government working swiftly to cover up its mystical origins, yet the only word the Medjai camp had received was that the warriors were coming home and that Imhotep had been imprisoned once more.

A woman paced within her tent, constantly glancing at the entrance before returning to pacing. Eventually she tired, laying against her soft mattress and watching the entrance with rapt eyes. Breathing slowly, she rubbed her hands against her swelling stomach, impatience thrumming through her veins. As the sky changed shades and the moon illuminated her doorway her breathing slowed and her body relaxed, her bodily aches momentarily forgotten as her mind escaped into the chasm of dreams where she dreamt of warm arms and ebony irises.

She was slowly drawn from her slumber by feathery kisses upon her cheeks. Groggily opening her eyes she saw the face of the man she adored. His lips drawn into a smile as he gazed at her.

“Hello sweet wife,” he whispered with a husky voice.

“Ardeth?” She whispered full of disbelief.

“I’m here,” he said, smiling at his wife.

Overjoyed at his presence she pulled him to her arms, her grip around him tightening and unwilling to let go.

“I thought you’d- I thought-“ she stuttered out, sniffling as her mind brought forward her worst fears.

Rubbing her back he soothed her, “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m back and no one, not even an ancient mummy or Anubis himself could keep me away from you.”

Pulling away from her, he gazed into her eyes, vowing, “You, my sweet wife, are my very life. The air within my lungs and the sand beneath my feet. Without you, there is no me and I will never let you or our little one go.” Saying this he bent towards her stomach before placing soft kisses along her skin, feeling the little flutters of their baby’s movement along his hand he whispered, “I’m here, little one. I won’t leave you.”

Slowly moving away he cradled his wife against his body as he told her the tales of his recent death-defying adventure and as the stars looked down at the lovely couple, the desert breathed peace.

[bergandysam]

BTS Fic Recs / To Read

purely because i am trying to keep track of what i have read and want to read in the future lol.

‼️18+ minors DNI, if you choose to anyways, PLEASE be careful. try to heed our warnings, we have them for a reason‼️

key/guide at the bottom of the post :)

ive come to the realisation it is ALL smut.. my bad

i will also be making a part 2 as i can only tag 50 ppl per post

set me free chap 7 YG to read

on with the show RM to read

haunted house JHOPE to read

mine JK to read

our beloved summer JK to read

borathae kinktober to read

neon sign YG to read

until i found you JK to read

9 months to fall in love SJ to read

believe it JM to read

sticks and stones YG to read

diving chapter 15 JK to read

epitaph KT to read

you who never arrived YG to read

turn back time SJ to read

undone business JK to read

not even a mouse YG to read

sonic rain JHOPE to read

business proposal RM to read

fake love JK to read

AAOLAASOF chap 14 JK to read

on tilt RM to read

nonsense JM to read

room for rent to read

work hard play harder YG to read

under the blankets JK to read

sweet dreams JK to read

not my fault JK to read

all i want JK to read

recommend:

[not in any particular order] [if any users would like me to remove their post from this list please let me know and i will do so immediately!]

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if you have any recs for me 🤭🤭🤭 pls send them through 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

just in case people weren’t sure

RM = Namjoon

YG = Yoongi/Suga

JK = Jungkook

SJ = Seokjin

KT = Taehyung/V

JM = Jimin

JHOPE = Hoseok

FWB = Friends with Benefits

e2l = Enemies to Lovers

f2l = Friends to Lovers

s2l = Strangers to Lovers

s2f2l = Strangers to Friends to Lovers

BBF = Brothers Best Friend

smau = Social Media au

au = Alternate Universe

[polina-me]

Sweet dream

Characters: Donald Duck, Della Duck, Hortense Duck-McDuck, Quackmore Duck

_____________________________________________

— Della! Stop stealing my food! — Donald hissed angrily when his sister took his sandwich and quickly stuffed it into her beak.

— Della, behave yourself. We're on a picnic, not in a pigsty. — Hortense scolded her daughter menacingly, sitting surprisingly elegantly and holding her cup.

Quackmore carefully brought the kettle and poured tea for his wife. He kissed Hortense on the cheek before putting the kettle away, earning a quiet giggle from the red duck.

Donald mimicked his mother's elegant pose, also sipping tea while Della lay on her stomach sipping strawberry juice.

— Tea boy.~ — She teased her brother by straightening a golden curl from her hairstyle.

Donald swung to hit Della, but he was stopped by the stern look of his parents and instead, the sailor took an apple.

— You're 36, Donny. It's time to stop being led by other people's provocations. — Quackmore reproached his son while peeling a tangerine, putting the slices on a plate, and the peel in a bag.

Donald pouted in embarrassment and looked away.

— It's not my fault that everyone loves to piss me off so much! Let them know what will happen if they contact Donald Duck! — at the last words, the sailor proudly puffed out his chest.

Della rolled her eyes in annoyance, but she couldn't say anything because Hortense beat her to it.

— Better tell me, how are things at work? Is Scrooge still hurting you? — The red-haired duck asked worriedly.

Donald waved his hand dismissively and rolled his eyes in response.

— Of course, he is! Our relationship is always like this! — He chuckled and tossed a couple of chocolates into his beak.

Hortense growled angrily and shook her fists in the air.

— Arrgh! Stupid Scrooge!! Tormenting my beloved son!! — She opened a jar of jam that Quackmore couldn't open.

— Why don't you leave Scrooge, duckling? You can move into your houseboat and work for someone else, for example, Rockerdack? — Papa Duck asked affectionately, smearing bread with jam.

Donald chuckled softly and picked up an apple.

— How can I leave, Pa? I'm practically the only one who can handle Uncle Scrooge. — He took a bite of an apple and offered it to Della with a sly smile. — Plus, I love him too much to leave that damn old palooka. — The sailor laughed when he saw his sister make a face and throw an apple at him.

— It's sour, you're a problem on your feet!! — Della screamed in frustration and began to drink her strawberry juice aggressively.

Hortense and Quackmore exchanged glances after hearing Donald's last words.

Hortense was surprised and puzzled by them, and Quackmore just smiled tenderly at his wife, as if saying, "I told you so."

Their picnic continued.

Donald talked enthusiastically about the adventures he got into with his family or on his own. With parental care and love, he boasted of the boys' merits to Della. And playfully shared various embarrassing Scrooge stories with Hortense.

Suddenly a breeze blew and Quackmore gently put his hand on his wife's shoulder, looking sadly into her eyes.

— Oh... Is it time? — Hortense asked, calming down after another laugh.

Quackmore nodded and the red duckling sighed heavily.

Della got up first, brushing off the crumbs.

— Okay, Donny, we have to go. When are you leaving?

Donald sadly watched his family get up and get ready to leave. He didn't know where they were going, but he had a feeling he needed to let them go.

— I'll take a nap first before I leave. — The sailor replied, adjusting his hat so that it covered his eyes and put his hands behind his head, comfortably lying on the plaid.

Hortense giggled, secretly glad that her Donny was still so lazy and went over to him.

— I love you, Donny. Goodbye. — She whispered softly and kissed her son on the cheek.

Quackmore and Della followed her example and also kissed Donald gently on the cheek, saying goodbye to him.

— I love you all too. — The sailor muttered as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

He could hear the footsteps of the three ducks gradually receding until they disappeared completely and the space was finally filled with silence. It was so calm and peaceful that Donald didn't even want it to stop.

However, his pacification was interrupted by a strange sound. An annoying sound.

Donald tried to ignore it, but the sound was getting louder by the second and infuriating the sailor more and more.

— STOP IT ALREADY!! — He finally exploded and angrily looked around to figure out where the sound was coming from.

Donald was slowly enveloped in disappointment when he realized that he was lying in his bed in his room and the annoying sound was the sound of an alarm clock.

The sailor turned off the alarm clock with trembling hands and began trying to put two and two together to understand what had happened.

He was on a picnic with... Mom, Dad and Della...

— Of course, it was a dream... — Donald muttered to himself as he stared at his blanket.

He clutched the cloth with his trembling hands as his tears slowly fell down.

— Of course, it was a dream... — He whispered softly in his trembling voice as his eyes filled with tears more and more.

___________________________________________

I know this isn't the fanfiction I promised and I'm sorry, but for now, here it is.

[finleycannotdraw]

thank you @sweet-tangerine-dreams for engaging with me in this utter buffoonery but hey! aziraphale and crowley are utter buffoons. so we were laughing about this post and I sent the following:

I’m personally a fan of them making out and slamming into shelves, a book falls on crowley and he’s like ouch wtf and aziraphale says something like “OH NO MY FIRST EDITION SONG OF SOLOMON” and crowley just starts laughing.

more funny silly hijinks.

they finally make it to the bed. music stops they both stop. the bed is COVERED in books. they look at each other aziraphale says “oh you know I’ve never gotten the hang of sleeping” crowley says “and you know I’ve always thought that was ridiculous” snaps his fingers the books vanish. aziraphaledistress.png.

crowley says “relax I just reshelved them downstairs. alphabetically. by the last letter of the last word.” aziraphale says “you ridiculous serpent” and throws him down on the bed. clothes start coming off. crowley goes “ridiculous am I?” aziraphale starts listing other adjectives. the last one is “beloved”. they start kissing again.

cut to insane natural phenomena happening. earthquakes. the kraken bursts out of the ocean. alarms going off in heaven. michael slams her head into her desk. power flickers and goes out all over london. car alarms blaring. maggie and nina exchange a knowing look. gabriel and beelzebub watch in awe from alpha centauri as a wholly new nebula explodes into being in front of them.

cut back to aziraphale and crowley lying in a mess of blankets and feathers looking utterly dumbfounded. aziraphale looks at crowley, besotted, and says “you know dear that was quite nice” crowley groans and starts to protest. aziraphale interrupts by kissing him. oh so gently. crowley says “fine you can have it this time. that was really fucking nice” and wraps his arms around him. soft music plays, camera pans out the window.

utter chaos on whickber street.

and then she said this which i thought was so funny I couldn’t Not add it:

[lostfirefly]

You’ve Got The Same Dream as Me (Ch. 3)

Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced (sorry, guys). The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. Sorry, not sorry :) The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) I have no idea how many chapters there will be. Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.

Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) 

And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)

Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. 

Warnings: 12+, I think. As always, no smut, angst, violence. Adventures and fun only. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.

Words: 1430 (sorry, not sorry)

The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)

✎﹏﹏﹏���﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Rika and Catherine held their way to a small bar. 

"Is this man of yours reliable? Can he be trusted?" Catherine could hardly contain her excitement.

"I wouldn't trust a clown like him one hundred per cent, but yes, I can vouch for him", Rika said, scratching her left arm.

"I don't trust you much either, but you probably know the local best, so I don't have a choice".

"I'm sure I do", Rika laughed. "God, you say the strangest things sometimes.

"Okay, well, you have to explain one thing to me. Why we're going to a bar when it's not even noon?".

"Other days we would go to his circus tent. But at eleven o'clock on Wednesday morning this man can be only here", Rika pointed to the bar sign. 

“Don't be like Tangerine and Drink at Arlong's”? Catherine squinted, putting a hand to her forehead, shielding herself from the sun, she read the bar’s title. "What idiotic names these places have". 

The girls entered the bar. Inside, there were massive wooden tables and chairs, the floor was scuffed. Yes, it had clearly seen better days. The air smelled of alcohol and tobacco.

"Why are there pictures of people who look like fish on the walls?" Catherine whispered, nudging Rika lightly in the shoulder.

"Because this bar is run by Arlong, damn it. Once upon a time it belonged to someone else, I honestly don't know who. But the last owner owed Arlong money, so-- The owner was never seen again, and the bar had new owners". 

"But why are they fish?" Catherine whispered again. 

"You've never heard of fish people?" Rika asked in surprise.

"Fish people? No, there aren't any in my country", Catherine shook her head negatively. 

"God, you live a boring life there. Wait a second..."

Rika suddenly stopped a man passing by with a tray. Honestly, he looked more like a squid or an octopus with the human body. 

"Hey, Ernie. Have you seen our mutual friend? He should be here by now", Rika asked, taking two whiskey glasses from the fishmonger's tray.

"He's over there by the bar top. How did you not notice him right away", the squid replied with a grin. 

"Thank you, sweetie, you can go now", Rika nudged Ernie lightly in the back and turned to Catherine. "He's here, just as I thought. Please, Catherine, honey, do me a favour. Just don't stare at his nose, or he'll freak out and we won't get anything out of him".

Catherine shrugged, not fully understanding the last comment. 

"Buggy, mate! You don't change! It's good to see you in good health", Rika said cheerfully as she approached the blue-haired man.

"And hello to you, my cookie", the man turned round in his chair towards the girls. 

Catherine could barely contain her surprise. He was a tall man with blue hair that was covered by a striped bandana. His face was covered with makeup. Lipstick smeared around his mouth, drawn crossed white bones and blue lines near his green eyes adorned the man's face. But the first thing that caught her eye was his red nose. 

"Now I understood why she asked about the circus. Damn, he looks like a clown", the thought flashed through Catherine's mind.

"Please tell me that glass is for me. You owe me one after your loss in our drunken roulette game last month", said Buggy, pointing to the drink.

"Don't remind me of that night, please", Rika rolled her eyes and placed one glass in the clown's hands. 

"Come on, it wasn't that bad. You even went home with a cute cook", he replied with a laugh.

"You're a jerk", Rika replied with a chuckle, sipping her whiskey. 

"I think we figured that out a long time ago. So.. Wait...", Buggy glanced at Catherine, "who's that with you? Is that for me, too? Well, look, Rika, my biscuit, you certainly lost last time, but this is too generous".

"Gross", Catherine cursed out loud.

"What did you just say, cotton candy?" Catherine could hear the irritation in Buggy's voice.

"I said tha….", she didn't finish the sentence. 

"Okay, okay, guys, calm down. We got off on the wrong foot", Rika took Catherine by the shoulder and sat her down at the bar to Buggy’s right. "Buggy, this is Catherine. Catherine, this is Buggy. And I'm not going to ask you to make up on pinky toes. Now let's have a drink to lighten the mood". 

When the waiter brought everyone a glass of whiskey, Rika sat down on Buggy's left. They began to whisper about something. Catherine leaned slightly over the counter to get a better look at his big red nose. 

After a couple of seconds, noticing her interested look in his side-eye, Buggy stood up abruptly and walked away. 

"Could you please not stare? I told you!", said Rika with irritation in her voice. 

"I di…, I didn't... I've never seen anything like it. Is it real?"

"What? His nose? Yes, so what? Do you have a problem with that?" Rika sipped her whiskey, giving Catherine an angry look.

"What? No, I don't. He’s… He's cute. Even with that nose", Catherine blushed a little. 

The girls sat alone for a few minutes, until finally Buggy came back and plumped down on a chair. 

"Hey, fishy, let's have some more whisky! A bottle!" he said, making a characteristic gesture with his hand.

"Look, Buggy", Catherine mumbled, "I'm sorry if I offended you… by staring.. staring at your nose". 

"Baby, I'm Buggy the Genius Jester, you can't offend me", he said with a laugh, "So, Rika, my dear pie, what brings you to me? I'm sure it wasn't just a drink".

Rika cleared her throat.

"Listen, we need to get to the Sabaody Desert. You've been there a few times before, you know the way". 

"Why do you need to go there?" asked Buggy, opening a bottle of whiskey. 

"I'm looking for my sister", Catherine said loudly, she was very surprised at how loud she sounded. 

"And? What do you want from me? Find some young boys or grandfathers, I don't care who will take you there", he sipped the whiskey from the neck of the bottle. 

"But you know those places better than anyone in this town", Rika replied, putting her hand on his shoulder. 

Irritation came over Catherine. She seemed to be wasting her time with meaningless conversations.

"Look, I was told you're the coolest guy in this town", she made air quotes, "And you can be trusted. But the way I see it, you're just a drunken piece of shit". 

She jumped up from her chair. 

"Catherine, calm down and sit", Rika hissed.

"No, let's leave and find someone else. I don't want to waste my time talking to a grown man who painted himself to look like a clown".

"She's so boring, why did you bring her? She's ruining my buzz!", Buggy looked at Rika with surprise, pointing the neck of the bottle at Catherine.

"Don't you dare point that slobber bottle at me, you jerk!" she slapped his arm. 

"Sorry, your highness", he bowed royally. 

Rika threw an angry look at Catherine.

"I said sit down!" she drilled her with her eyes.

"Shit.. Are you sure that jackass is the best and can help us?" Catherine asked with surprise in her voice, pointing at Buggy.

"Baby, I'm the best at everything", he said, running his hand down Catherine's neck.

"Alright, lovebirds, that’s enough", Rika slapped her hands on the table, "Cathie, show him what you showed me". 

Catherine growled and quickly pulled diaries, maps, notes out of her bag and placed them on the table.

"See?" Rika smiled. 

"Fuck me! What's that? You think this is... Coordinates?" Buggy grabbed the diary and started flipping through it. "I wonder... Very interesting. You're not so simple, pumpkin", he reached out and started running his hand through Сatherine's hair. She yanked back.

"There's what you love so much, my dear clown. Treasure! Don't tell me looking at those cards didn't make you think of it", Rika whispered in his ear. 

"I can pay you to take us there. And if there's really something in there. I don't know.. gold or diamonds or women or whatever you want to find, you can have it. Please!" Catherine looked at him with pleading in her eyes.

"Of course, you'll pay, my cotton candy, I wouldn't get out of my chair for free", Buggy glanced at Catherine. She suddenly felt goosebumps run down her spine. "Well, when do we start?"

[azygist]

12/05/2024 01:27

My Beloved,

I find myself living in the orbit of your life, as if I'm possessed by the ghost of your presence. It has been that way ever since the day I've learned of your existence. Each sunrise bears the hue of tangerine and every sunset tinged with vermilion. What I mean by that is I find every day sensational because I get to live a day having loved you. I want your dreams carved on my bones. I've become my own enemy in wanting to live for you because I simply have never wanted to be alive ever since I was 15.

I wish you had met me when I was still unbroken and unaware of heartlessness. Like the forest untouched by the fire. Like the world before its very first war. A poet before her first heartbreak. It just isn't fair, you know? I was once so beautiful. You should have beheld my novelty. You should have seen me dancing to the jingles of my hopes and whims and dreams and everything in between. I was such a majestic scene. Now I'm just a monument turned monstrosity. And if we are so alike, I am what may become of you if you are ever ruined.

You keep telling me I see daggers in kitchen knives. You see, in my house, there were no knives to begin with. I have blood for breakfast and betrayal for dinner. I am a butcher with a saber starving for chaos.

But I love, I love, I love you so. And it is absolutely not because we are exactly alike. When people are alike, they become friends. And you do not make my misery less miserable either. You are not the gold that fills my crease. I'm still stained and life is still unbearable. But, loving you has outweighed all the bruises bestowed upon me by life, although you give me bruises all the same. I love you with all the ugliness I possess in my heart.

I have vested my everything in your fingertips. I've let my girlhood be colored by your embrace. All the reds, and blues, and greys, and maroons. My fervor, my flesh, my exposure and the rest. There is nothing left except for my everlasting grief which I always try to keep afar from you. Because I think it's crucial for us humans to reserve our softness for the ones we love, even if cruelty is the only remnant in our disposition. And you are the only subject of my tenderness.

Darling, what comes after love is not hatred, it is indifference. And I will die the death of a thousand agonies if your affections for me were ever to change from being your Caribbean to being the object of your desertion. You have more than consumed me. You are both my salvation and sin. You are both my black and white. We'll either have a home together or a gravestone of half-lived fantasy of true love. And it will either be my first kill or my execution.

Amaran Thine,

Azazel

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part VI

Read Looking For Space here // Playlists here // Read on wattpad

Word Count: ~2700 (why so short?? I don't know. I wrote this what feels like ages ago lol)

Warnings: none...but buckle up for later?

This is super late because I was 1) busy writing that GVF slash mini-series 2) busy being out of town to see OUR BOYS again 3) busy writing that new Sam fic I just posted. Anyway...

---

Morning began with a tangerine sun suspended in a hazy, buttercup yellow sky. The clouds seemed to come to life as the sun got higher, moving past the orange glow in such gentle, soft movements that it was hard to even keep track of the changes, at least from mine and Josh’s spot on the porch. We were both hungover worse than we’d experienced in, well, we weren’t sure–it was hard to remember anything with our heads pounding, throats parched and stomachs lurching.

“Fuck. We fucked up,” Josh lamented with a little groan. He shut his eyes and leaned against me, a mug of coffee in his hands. “We should’ve bought food yesterday. I’d take a single saltine cracker right now.”

I felt the same. Hindsight was always 20/20. “Yeah, we fucked up,” I agreed. I tried to shut my eyes in solidarity and to just bask in the warm glow of morning but, when I did, I felt the earth spin beneath my feet. “I need Gatorade or something, jeez.” 

“I shouldn’t have suggested shots,” Josh went on, sounding off a louder groan to punctuate his statement. “It’s all my fault. Are we going to survive?”

“We’ll survive,” I assured him, though the coffee from the Keurig machine was too bitter on my tongue and too hot in my stomach. I was dreaming of an ice-cold blue sports drink from an air conditioned gas station, chased with an iced coffee loaded with cream and sugar. “Nothing’s gonna stop us from going to the beach today.”

“Tybee Island, yes,” Josh concurred. He sat up straight and brought the mug of coffee to his lips, eyes half-lidded as he sipped again despite the enthusiasm in his voice. Once half of his coffee was gone he was up and moving, shuffling away from the porch, beginning to sing to himself as he carried on into the bedroom. If it’d been anyone else, that relentless cheeriness and resilience would have irritated me, but it was Josh, so listening just made me laugh to myself.

I was still excited for our beach day, though at the moment the thought of baking in the sun made me feel even more queasy. I diligently sipped the rest of my coffee and groggily hauled myself into the kitchen to chug lukewarm tap water, which tasted so different than the water back home. I did love Savannah so far, but I still couldn’t imagine living there. In my mind, home was where our most beloved people were and that was back in Michigan. 

That thought reminded me to check my phone for a reply from Jake. He had texted back later in the night and I immediately smiled huge and delirious at the picture–a selfie taken with the help of Danny’s long arm that showed all three of the boys that I missed so badly. The text read: First birthday without Josh was weird. He sent me a text that was half gibberish did you guys go out?

I typed back, relaying that we went to the rooftop bar and got absolutely wasted and that Josh’s birthday seemed a little weird without Jake and Sam and Danny, too. As I migrated to the bedroom after Josh, I realized how it was also the first birthday of Josh’s that felt so empty after the fact–normally, the whole “one year older” and effects of whatever party we’d had trailed into the next day. I didn’t feel that at all. Was it yet another product of actually getting older? Sometimes in my head, Josh was still the same 23 year old I’d met in that poetry class, both of us so fresh and green, with him so ready to fall headfirst into something new with me. I’d been so apprehensive and fearful and now, looking back, it felt so silly. Josh was a dream come true.

The beach was also a dream come true. We had nothing to compare it to back home, not even close–the ocean right at our literal fingertips was enough for Josh and I to drop our bags and hightail it to the sea, running through the foamy waves until the water reached our knees. The sun was partially hidden by some of the morning clouds that had stuck around, but what sunlight pierced through hit hard and beautiful, turning the water into an infinite expanse of glittering blue and green that melted into the pale blue horizon. Seagulls circled overhead; pelicans coasted in the water; boats floated on by far off in their own little worlds and our little world seemed to be a seaside fairytale that I was content to live in for much longer than we actually had. 

The wind caressed our damp legs as we stepped back out onto dry land. My heart was beating fast, even faster still when I looked at Josh–the strips of white clouds were reflected in his eyes and his smile was bigger and brighter than any sun. I was sure of that. We watched each other more than what our hands were doing as we held the big beach towel we’d packed between us and spread it out in the air, trying to get it straight and taut to lay flat on the sand. Josh smirked; I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed.

“This is perfect,” he remarked once we were getting situated on the ground. He laid back, putting his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. “I could stay here forever.”

I grabbed his sunglasses from his backpack and slid them over his eyes. “It does feel like a little slice of paradise. We just need some fruity cocktails.”

“A little hair of the dog that bit us wouldn’t be such a bad idea right now, actually.” 

I laid down next to him, shielding my eyes with my hand to look at the sky. “We used to be able to drink all night and be relatively fine the next day. I miss that.”

“I think Jake, Danny and Sam drank all night. Sam sent me a video of Danny drinking straight from a bottle of tequila.”

I chuckled. “Those two degenerates have ruined our good boy.” 

“Sam singlehandedly corrupted Danny years ago, I’m sure of it,” Josh said, turning his head to look at me. His bare skin was already so naturally tan–I could imagine how much more rich and glowy he’d become with the extra sun we were getting. “He’s just good at keeping it under wraps, that Daniel of ours. Well, sometimes. Seems like the most debauchery comes out when Sam peer pressures him and Danny can’t contain himself.”

It was true–so many nights of Sam practically pouring shots down Danny’s throat himself. It seemed like Danny only tried to hold back because he knew he’d end up having to take care of Sam later on.

“I think they’re in love,” I said.

Josh laughed. “Me too.”

I sat up to retrieve a bottle of water from my backpack. “But really–none of them have girlfriends. Is it because they’re touring now? I just can’t imagine any of them not finding a girl to click with.”

“Well, we are their best groupies. I don’t think anyone else can compete with us in that regard,” Josh said, still lying flat, lounging beneath the penetrating sunrays. “But I do think the fact that they’re playing shows all over now is a factor. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to commit to someone you’re not going to see even every week.”

“Not gonna lie, I wanted Sam and Bev to work out.”

“I think he was a little too young then. It might be different now.”

“Well, maybe it’s a good thing.” I took a drink then settled back down, moving closer to Josh. “They should just be focused on the music and having fun. Relationships complicate things.”

Josh raised his sunglasses and winked at me. “Not if they’re perfect.”

I smiled. “We’re not exactly perfect.” 

“Close enough.” 

I’d considered the idea that Josh really would propose to me during our vacation. The beach seemed like a good place for it–though there were people around, we had plenty of privacy, no way to make a big public fuss about it. The weather was perfect and the whole ambiance of the ocean and sky made for a picturesque setting. He was too relaxed though–if Josh were to propose now, I would have had a real inkling. Still, the impending mystery proposal and the subsequent unplanned wedding was on my mind again.

“Where would you want our wedding to be?” I asked. “Obviously outside somewhere. We’ve already agreed on that. But where specifically?”

Josh reached between us to take my hand, still lying idle by my side. “I’m not sure, darling. I’m not privy to the venues and what have you that are in our area. Why, did you have a particular place in mind?”

“Not really. But some place quiet and open would be nice. Lots of flowers and trees and whatnot. That’d be pretty, right?”

“Very pretty. Though it sounds like we’d be waiting another year if we wanted the greenery and sunshine.” Josh squeezed my hand lightly, let it go to roll onto his side and look at me. “I don’t feel like waiting another year.”

I knew as much, but my heart still skipped a beat at hearing the words. “It takes time to plan a wedding. Even if you proposed to me right now, the planning would take months.”

“We have months as it is. But don’t worry–I’m not proposing today.” Josh leaned in and cupped my face, giving me a kiss. “It’s still going to be a surprise. And I have to get the timing right.” 

“Oh?” I quipped, reaching out for him, tugging on his hair to bring him back and kiss again. He tasted like sunscreen and coconut lip balm. 

Josh propped his head up in one hand, remaining on his side. “I know you have your bridesmaid all figured out. Kirsti would be your maid of honor, naturally.”

“And Jake would be your best man. Naturally.” 

“You’ve told your mom we’re planning on getting married, right?”

“Josh, she started pressuring me to marry you like two years ago,” I reminded him with a laugh. “Once she came around to you, she came around hard. And I’m pretty sure she’s desperate for just one of her kids to get married.” 

“Oh, that’s right! Last Christmas she asked me where the ring was.” Josh laughed too, turning to look up at the sky. “I didn’t tell her I had it already. Maybe I should’ve.” 

“Since I already know you’re going to propose, isn’t most of the surprise moot anyway?”

Josh laid back down. “Not at all. People should talk about it beforehand. It doesn’t kill the romance. It just makes things more solid.”

“You know what’s also solid? A house,” I replied, giving his nose a tap with my finger before I laid back down, too. 

“Seen any around here that you like?”

“I’ve seen some back home that I like.” I quickly considered spilling about the house from the estate sale, but I didn’t know if that was a sure thing yet. And anyway, I didn’t want to get caught up in thinking about being home when we were on vacation. Josh was so skilled at enjoying the present–I was going to do the same. 

Once we were feeling the burn from the sun, Josh and I waded back into the cool Atlantic. This time, we went far enough out until the water reached our necks and the waves were gentle and stirring around us, crashing loudly behind us; I gazed out at the blue horizon, thinking of how the ocean seemed as infinite as the sky itself, as infinite as the whole universe, really. I laughed when Josh decided to swim out even farther, kicking and paddling along until he called out that he couldn’t feel where the bottom was and I told him to watch out for sharks. He tipped back to lie flat beneath the sky and float atop the water, arms out at his sides and eventually looking too much like a dead body that I swam out and dragged him back by his hand. 

We took our damp and slightly sunburnt selves to a very late lunch at a little seafood shack afterward. It was quite literally a shack, actually, and it was situated down a curvy road, far more in the grasslands than the actual beach, but I could still smell the ocean when we stepped out of the rental car and moseyed up the wooden ramp to the doorway, where inside it smelled like, not to either of our surprises, fish, crab and fryer oil. 

After our greasy and satisfying lunch, we headed out to the shops lining the island that were even more blatant tourist money grabs than what we’d encountered downtown, and we loved it. The sweatshirts, t-shirts, hats, keychains and the beach-inspired hemp necklaces and bracelets fit the energy of the island and our sun-soaked bliss; neither Josh nor I cared about how silly the purchases were. We walked out with plastic bags full of mementos and soft hoodies, our hair stiff from salt water, my heart full of undeniable happiness.

While Josh drove us back over the bridge to take us back to our temporary home for much-needed showers, I got a text from Jake: How do you like Savannah? 

I love it. It’s beautiful! We’re having the best time. Where are you guys tonight?

Cleveland. So far so good. Josh hasnt been texting me much so he must be enamored with the city haha 

He is! But we miss you guys. We have so much to tell you when we get back 

Same here. Wish you guys could see the show

We’re your biggest fans. Don’t forget it ;) 

“Jake misses us,” I announced to Josh, who had a very pleased smile on his face when I looked at him. 

“I know he does,” he said while we glided over the bridge back to the city. “I miss him, too.”

-

When night fell, we were one of four other couples and one trio during the ghost tour, which took us from the starting point outside a diner, long shut down since its last dinner hour, around what felt like far more than just a couple miles of the city. The guide was a witchy woman who had the right energy and charisma to make all the stories–surely, some more exaggerated than others–come to life in the warm night and the yellow glow of the street and house lights and the abundance of Spanish moss hanging from so many of the trees surrounding our steps added to the spookiness of it all. Josh loved it, as did I, and we were wired by the time the tour ended, wanting more ghost stories–really, wanting to find some ghost stories of our own. 

But instead of ghosts, we found ourselves back at the airbnb, sipping wine with our limbs tangled together on the porch. I couldn’t see the stars–the lights of the small city were still too many and too bright to get a good view–but the brightest star of all was right there next to me. I said this to Josh and he laughed lovingly at the cliche, wrapped his arm tighter around me and pressed his wine-stained lips to my cheek: “Thank you for coming with me on this journey,” he said. 

“To Savannah or just, like, life?” I asked, happy and mutually grateful either way.

“All of it.” Josh sighed softly and rested his cheek on my shoulder. “I just wish it were longer.” 

“We have tomorrow,” I reminded him. “And a whole lifetime.”

Josh clinked his glass with mine. “Infinity.”

I ran my fingers up his back, tracing each vertebrae. “Infinity.”

---

Tagging: @jjwasneverhere @colorstreammind

Want to be tagged? Let me know here! (or just DM me lmao)

[bonesandthebees]

Spruce not reading honey and tangerines made me remember i got like halfway through before losing all my ao3 tabs and never finishing it 😭 i’ll have to go back and find where i was soon

Also one of my only thoughts after burning gold was literally just “wow tallulah covering her eyes for moat of the fic? She really is just like her father”

Also also WF WF WF MY BELOVED clinic and stars will always have a special place in my heart but sbi’s fight after wilbur said he knew why tommy left at the syndicate meeting will always have a special place in my heart, i re-read it sometimes just for fun

Every once in a while i’ll also remember i was here when the last few chapters of clinic weren’t out yet and then i’ll feel old

I vividly remember checking if clinic had updated, it had, and it was the chapter where puffy came and visited tommy and brought him cinnamon rolls and revealed she was a former-hero

And then i remember being here for all of wf, and reading stars when it only had one chapter and then forgetting about it until it was finished 😭

I can picture so clearly in my head checking wf one day at dinner, i had only read the first chapter a while back and hadn’t kept up, there was now five chapters and i was so excited. I was eating tacos. I kept up with wf updates after that

Sorry for the ramble, everyone’s recent asks have reminded me of a lot of things lmao, still debating if i should re-read stars and i’m so very close to giving in

- 🪐

NOOOO I ACCIDENTALLY INCLUDED THE COVERING EYES BIT AGAIN THIS TIME WITH TALLULAH I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE why do I keep doing this

the fact that you reread that painful fight in wf for fun certainly says something /j (it was such a fun scene to write I'm so glad you enjoyed it so much)

damn you've been around for that long?? you're really an og saturn anon. I remember when I wrote that clinic chapter with puffy and tommy talking after he'd been kidnapped and that conversation ended up being so much longer than I meant it to be. I was so frustrated bc it meant I had to put off the crimeboys reconciliation convo by another chapter and I wanted to write that one so bad, but the puffy tommy convo was so good and flowed so well so I couldn't be too upset

looking back on when wf was updating feels a bit like a fever dream for me bc 1) I wrote most of it during the winter quarter of my senior year of college. we'd gone back to in person for fall quarter after a full year of online bc covid, but then winter had a surge of covid cases again so almost all my classes went BACK online but I had one optional in person class once a week. so I had a lot of free time to write and would spend entire days in a campus coffee shop writing wf 2) sirentwt happened while I was writing wf. that was certainly a Time

anyway i love that you remember you were eating tacos when you noticed wf had 5 chapters up now. I remember I kept trying new drinks at the coffee shop every day when I went there to write but none of it was very good but it was a student run place that had really nice vibes so I became a regular anyway

[snug-gyu]

tag game: save one, drop one - nct dream edition // from this video

tagged by my beloved @lee-minhoe 💜

istj vs. glitch mode

broken melodies vs. dive into you

love again vs. 1, 2, 3

deja vu vs. diggity

blue wave vs. walk you home

tangerine love vs. better than gold

hot sauce vs. boom

like we just met vs. to my first

119 vs. drippin'

anl vs. arcade

dunk shot vs. trigger the fever

quiet down vs. poison

be there for you vs. never goodbye

candle light vs. puzzle piece

life is still going on vs. yogurt shake

irreplaceable vs. replay

sorry, heart vs. moon

ridin' vs. go

bungee vs. rocket

dear dream vs. my page

stronger vs. countdown (3, 2, 1)

my first and last vs. chewing gum

saturday drip vs. sos

on the way vs. graduation

my youth vs. dreaming

7 days vs. best friend

beatbox vs. hello future (i refuse to choose between my babies 😠)

starry night vs. take my breath

rainbow vs. teddy bear

candy vs. don't need your love

skateboard vs. fire alarm

we go up vs. we young

dream run vs. pretzel

best friend ever vs. fireflies

bye my first... vs. beautiful time (this hurt my soul)

feeling lazy to tag anyone, but feel free to say i tagged you if you wanna play~

[lesseraive]

hihi i was tagged by beloved @marktual to save one, drop one nct dream edition! from this vid. this took me too long 💀

istj vs. glitch mode

broken melodies vs. dive into you

love again vs. 1, 2, 3

deja vu vs. diggity (these r like 2 of my least fav dream songs 😟)

blue wave vs. walk you home

tangerine love vs. better than gold (close)

hot sauce vs. boom (hard)

like we just met vs. to my first (scream)

119 vs. drippin'

anl vs. arcade

dunk shot vs. trigger the fever

quiet down vs. poison

be there for you vs. never goodbye

candle light vs. puzzle piece

life is still going on vs. yogurt shake

irreplaceable vs. replay (hard, these r on the same level for me)

sorry, heart vs. moon

ridin' vs. go

bungee vs. rocket

dear dream vs. my page

stronger vs. countdown 3, 2, 1

my first and last vs. chewing gum

saturday drip vs. sos

on the way vs. graduation

my youth vs. dreaming

7 days vs. best friend (NOT CHOOSING)

beatbox vs. hello future (really hard)

starry night vs. take my breath

rainbow vs. teddy bear

candy vs. don't need your love (this came down to the raps)

skateboard vs. fire alarm

we go up vs. we young (why would u put 2 bad bitches against each other like this)

dream run vs. pretzel

best friend ever vs. fireflies

bye my first… vs. beautiful time

i will tag @snsdpop @komca @marklesbian andddddd do i know any other nctzens djskafhjldas i don't think so, feel free to ignore tho!

[freedomofthemoon]

In happier thoughts: I have been reminded that Tangerine Dream was a thing.

Have some 80's electronic magic:

And then have some early-2000's fanfic magic, because that reminded me of the existence of one of my favourite authors from baby FoTM's first experiences with fandom: Tangerine. I'd rec specific fics but I don't want to wait until after a reread to post this. Tangerine was the one who made me love Rictor/Shatterstar, and the one who changed my mind about Warren Worthington, and then she also did an amazing job of writing my beloved Bobby Drake.