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#YOU DO NOT NEED TO MATCH LENGTHS
ourcwnside · 2 months
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closed starter for @ofginjxints
When Aziraphale had left, naturally, Crowley had first tried to drown his heartbreak in alcohol. After all, he'd been using it to try to numb his feelings for the angel for centuries, why wouldn't he turn to it now? But apparently getting blackout drunk didn't help the way it used to. Before, he would drink and maybe pass out for a few days, but he'd always awaken with the knowledge that he could saunter into the bookshop and at least be near him. But now that he was gone, now that Crowley had well and truly lost him, that wasn't enough. And it certainly didn't help matters that he no longer had to only imagine the feel of the angel's lips; he knew it. He knew it and it drove him half mad with longing and heartache.
He needed to forget. And if booze wasn't going to do the trick, something else would have to.
At some point, his regular outings to bars and clubs had turned into desperate searches for someone, anyone, that could make him forget how miserably in love he was with someone who had left him behind with apparent ease. Easier said than done, it seemed. Oh, it was easy enough to find humans that wanted him. The hard part was achieving what he'd set out to do and forget. Even for a short time.
Rarely did it ever progress beyond wandering hands and clumsy, desperate lips, but even when it did, Crowley couldn't shake images of him from his mind. Maybe it would have been easier if he didn't keep choosing men with pale curls or soft, cherubic features. But he couldn't help it; he knew what he wanted, and if he couldn't have that, he'd take the closest thing available.
It never really worked, but bless it, Crowley was nothing if not persistent. Which was why he was once again in a dimly-lit booth in the back of one of Soho's many bars with a man who looked familiar but not familiar enough. With lips on his neck, a hand on his thigh, and nearly a full bottle's worth of whiskey in his bloodstream, he could almost make himself forget about the one he wished was touching him.
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stolenslumber · 9 months
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hang your head low in the glow (pjs)
In this moment, you’re glad that you’re anchored in his lap, because otherwise you think you might float away into the night sky, on your way to join the stars in the cosmos. Jay is so crushingly sweet; sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with the weight of all his sincerity. For now, you settle for a fervent, “I like you so much.”
OR: A selection of moments in between the parentheses at the end of devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (some things may not make sense without reading that first, but it's up to you!).
PAIRING: park jongseong x female reader GENRE: established relationship, fwp (fluff without plot), no like seriously this is just straight up fluff and romance and making out with scant narrative WARNINGS: swearing, kms/kys jokes, kissing and suggestive content/sexual themes WORD COUNT: 10k (derogatory)
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to all the boys i’ve fake-dated before (you, jay, sunghoon, yeonjun, chan, vernon, mark, and 5 others)
jay: peace out losers (except for my REAL gf whom i adore and cherish)
*jay has left the chat*
sunghoon: omfg no way???? jay bitchless era no more?
you: are u calling me a bitch
sunghoon: NOOOO i would never haha btw do u still talk to my sister
you: yeah
sunghoon: right so i’m just ur humble liege
chan: congrats, you two! well i guess jay can’t see this
you: i will accept your congratulations on his behalf :DD i’m really happy you guys 
mark: stop i’ll cry
vernon: no rly i’m next to him rn and he’s tearing up
mark: they deserve it so much!!! after everything i put them through 
you: excuse me it was mostly me
you: all jay did was orchestrate an elaborate scheme to get you and mina together (okay so he did a lot)
you: but we ALL participated
you: and i had to pretend to DATE you
mark: only for like two hours!!!!
yeonjun: wait this reminds me i’ve always wanted to know what ur ranking of us as fake bfs would be
you: in first place: park jongseong
yeonjun: and then?
yeonjun: hello??????
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“Can I ask you something?”
Jay turns his head to you. “Of course, baby.”
Baby. Hearing it still makes you all silly and giddy, though it’s been four days since you started dating him for real and hearing it all the time. Baby, doll, Cinderella, mine. He sure has a way with words. You clear your throat, hoping that your voice won’t crack when you say, “Why were you so weird about the fake-dating thing in the beginning?”
He makes a face at you. “What do you mean, weird? You’re telling me you thought I was weird about it, even after you had to endure Sunghoon?”
“Sunghoon was just awkward. Really awkward, but still. You stalked me to my front door—”
“Your front door is, like, 90 seconds from mine.”
“— and walked with me to Nat’s at a glacial pace, while not saying a word. And then we talked for an hour about random stuff before you promised to help Mark with Mina, even though you weren’t sure you wanted my help. Why were you so weird about it all?”
“Pretty girls make me nervous?” He offers you a winning smile.
“Flattery won’t get you everywhere, Park Jongseong.”
“Yeah, but it’s getting me somewhere, isn’t it?” He rolls all the way over to hover above you and then dips so low that the pendant on his necklace swings in front of your face. The two of you had escaped the party in the frat’s basement after it had gotten too hot down there; Jay said he “knew a spot”, which made you laugh when it turned out to just be his bedroom. But then he pushed open his window and coaxed you out onto the flat roof, and that’s where you had settled on your back, gazing up at a cloudless sky, scattershot through with faint stars. 
Well, you were gazing up at the stars— now, Jay occupies your line of sight, and he’s all smiles and hearts in his eyes. It’s not an unwelcome substitute.
Your hand slips between your bodies so you can rub your fingers over the pendant on his necklace; you laugh when you realize what it is. “J as in Jay? Like T as in Troy?” 
He huffs, rolling off of you to sit back on his heels. “No, J as in Jopping. Yes, J as in Jay!”
You hold your hands up, still laughing as you sit up to face him. “Okay, okay, sorry! Didn’t realize my boyfriend was also a preppy high school girl.”
He rolls his eyes even as he pulls you into his lap. These days, he’s hopelessly afflicted with must-be-close-to-my-girlfriend syndrome. “I have layers, Cinderella. Like an onion.”
“... Are you paraphrasing Shrek?”
Jay flicks at the tip of your nose. “You know, it reveals just as much about you as it does about me that you caught the reference.” 
“You’re not helping yourself in the high school girl category,” you tease, but it’s all syrupy sweet fondness, punctuated by a playful tug at his reddening ear. 
He turns his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “Do you want to hear my answer or not?”
You nod and straighten your spine with your hands folded neatly against your chest; the picture of propriety, if it weren’t for your legs straddling his waist as he leans back on his hands. “Yes, please.”
“I was… sussing you out, I guess. You know why I wanted to bring someone to my parents, but I couldn’t just bring anyone. I wanted to get to know you a little better, to see if you were someone I could actually see myself wanting to be with, because anything less would be a disservice to my parents. I didn’t want your help if I couldn’t confirm that you were the real thing. And then I saw how patient but also no-nonsense you were with Mark, and how quickly you were willing to help with a frankly crazy plan, and you just… felt right. You felt right to me; you felt like the real thing.” Jay blushes, ducking his head to avoid your gaze. Everything he said is true, of course, and he doesn’t regret telling you any of it, but saying it out loud like this makes his heart feel like it’s going to fall out of his chest.
In this moment, you’re glad that you’re anchored in his lap, because otherwise you think you might float away into the night sky, on your way to join the stars in the cosmos. Jay is so crushingly sweet; sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with the weight of all his sincerity. For now, you settle for a fervent, “I like you so much.”
Jay’s confidence comes back like a boomerang. He leans up and catches your hands in his, draping your arms around his neck before gliding his hands up and down your back. “Who’s flattering who, now?” 
You shrug. “Where’s it gonna get me, gorgeous?”
“Well, only because you called me gorgeous.” And then he’s kissing you, lush and lovely. 
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Fall trickles into winter, and there are final exams and goodbyes to your friends before you and Jake leave on a two-week trip to see your family in Australia. You and Jay FaceTime almost every day; he complains about getting pasty staying indoors in the cold while you’re out tanning on white sand beaches. 
“Should I fly out there?” he muses one day close to the end of your trip. “You could be, I dunno, in danger! Because of the sun. No one to help you put sunscreen on your back… or check that you’ve applied enough on your legs… or your chest… It’s really important, you know. Skin cancer awareness.”
You laugh. “Thanks for the PSA, baby. I’m coming back in a few days, though, so I think I’ll be okay.”
Jay sighs mournfully. “I’m not. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” you confess. Living across the street from each other at school and seeing him in person almost every day for the past few months has spoiled you. 
“I miss you, too,” Jake mimics beside you. You’re in an Uber on the way to dinner with your parents, so you can’t commit much physical violence against him, but you do punch his shoulder.
Jay pipes up with, “Was that Jake’s voice I heard?”
You glare at your twin before popping out your earbuds to put the call on speakerphone. “Unfortunately.”
“Yo, what’s up, my man!” Jake cheers, shoving his face into view of the camera.
Jay and Jake chatter about some game they started playing with Heeseung, and you have to admit that you’re really happy about how well you and Jay have integrated into each other’s lives and communities. Of course, Jake had never been a big concern; secretly, you think he loves that his best friend is dating his sister. You’re two of his favorite people in the world, though he’ll only admit it when he’s four shots in. 
Soon, you approach the restaurant, and you have to say goodbye to Jay. He encourages you to keep sending videos of Jake falling into the ocean while surfing, which prompts a loud bout of complaining from Jake.
“You better not have shown that to anyone else,” Jake grumbles.
“Yunjin loved it,” you remark casually, just so you can laugh loudly when he jolts in his seat and turns to you with panicked eyes.
He whisper-shouts, “Why would you say that word? And why the fuck would you send it to her?” 
“What word— love? Oh my god, grow up. And she asked for updates on you.” Your eyebrows furrow. “I think she missed you, or something.”
“She did?” Jake beams; he’s entirely a different man now. “What else did she say about me?”
You point at him accusingly. “You have a lot of questions for someone who claims that they’re just buddies with my girl Jen. Which, again— grow up. Anyways, Jay, we have to go, but we’ll see you soon! Love you!”
“Love you, baby. And you, too, Jake,” Jay adds, before Jake can whine. 
A few days later, you’re finally reunited with Jay at the big New Year’s Eve party his family throws every year. The Parks always get to host the last party of the holiday season; you’re excited to experience it with Jay for the first time. 
An hour before the party is set to start, you let yourself into the Park estate and make your way surreptitiously to Jay’s room. His back is turned to you when you open the door slowly, and you stop for a moment to just drink in the sight of him, comfy and cozy in a cable-knit quarter zip sweater— the definition of huggable. Quickly, you sneak in and wrap your arms around his waist. “Hey, handsome.”
Jay cranes his neck around to look at you. “Hey! You’re here early.” 
You let go of him so he can turn around and hug you back properly. “Couldn’t wait to see you,” you confess. 
“Thank god.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. “Mm, the world is finally rightside up again.”
You laugh softly. “We are so dramatic.”
“Unavoidable for hot people,” Jay reasons. He pulls back up to wink at you; it’s so cheesy that you have to hold your hands up to his face to avoid looking at him. He laughs outright, and the return of that sound so close to your ears— as opposed to through the phone across an ocean— makes you smile uncontrollably wide.
“I really missed you,” you murmur. Finally, finally, he leans in and kisses you. It starts as something innocent and comforting, then quickly gets subsumed into fire and passion. You fist your hands into the collar of his sweater, hauling him closer to you with an enthusiasm that makes his fingers dig into your waist.
“Missed you so much. Missed this so much,” he says, right before sliding his tongue against yours. Soon, he transitions to sucking your bottom lip into his mouth, breathing a litany of love you, love you, love yous into you. The kiss is so deep it makes you go lightheaded, and when you separate for air, the sound of your mouth parting from his elicits a faint pop that makes you shudder. He’s considerate enough to back off briefly for you to catch your breath, though he doesn’t make it easy. “Pretty, so pretty,” he whispers against your cheek.
You have to close your eyes to calm yourself down. Right now, you think you could power a whole city with the desire that vibrates underneath your skin. “As much as I want to keep going,” you begin, already doomed with how hoarse your voice is, “I think you have to start getting ready.” The way your fingers pull at the zipper of his sweater is wholly unconvincing. 
He sighs and straightens up to rest his chin on the top of your head. “I should really learn how to reconfigure the time-space continuum. Time needs to stop when I’ve got my girl with me.”
You hum in agreement, curving around him slightly to scrape your teeth over the birthmark on his neck and grinning when he hisses into your ear. “You’re a smart guy; I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you offer, continuing to tug at his zipper until you’re met with the end of the quarter zip. A frustrated sound escapes your throat at the obstacle.
“What’s your new year’s resolution?” Jay asks suddenly.
“What?” You blink hazy eyes at him; he has to pinch his own wrist behind your back to fight the urge to kiss you again.
“Just trying to kill the mood so I don’t go out there with a hard-on,” he explains, half bashful and half serious. “I have to make a speech, you know.”
“Thanks for coming, everyone! Hope you had a great last year, and here’s to an even better new year. There, speech done.” You withdraw your hands from his sweater to make jazz hands at him. “Wow, I’m such a speedy speechwriter! With all this extra time, we should keep going.”
“Brilliant,” he says dryly. “But you were right before; I do have to get ready.”
You frown and rest your cheek against his chest. “Past me was such a cockblock.”
Jay chuckles. “So, tell me, what is your new year’s resolution?”
Your eyes drift to the offending sweater in your peripheral vision. “Throw out all of your sweaters.”
“Very noble of you.”
“And get into grad school,” you say, more serious now.
“They’d be crazy not to take you for the Rhodes, baby.” Jay presses a final kiss to the top of your head. “I, um. I already asked to start in the London office of the company.”
You whip your head up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. “Really?”
“Really. I want to be wherever you are.” He smiles so tenderly at you that your heart breaks and then mends itself back together in an instant; shattered and restored all at once by the strength of his devotion.
Sadly, there’s only so much time you can spend swooning at your boyfriend (Jay’s right; you do have to learn how to reconfigure the time-space continuum). He truly does have to give a speech soon, so he starts getting changed, pulling his sweater over his head and swearing when it gets stuck on the wire frame of his glasses. 
You laugh a little breathlessly at him, distracted by the strip of toned stomach revealed by his current position with his arms stuck above his head in his sweater. “My last new year’s resolution is to close the gyms,” you announce, finally moving into action to help him unspool the yarn of his sweater from his glasses.
“All of them?” His voice comes out muffled from inside his sweater before it’s over his head at last, and he’s shirtless in front of you. 
You drag your fingertips from the top of his waistband to the warm skin of his sternum. “Especially the ones you go to. You’re too tempting like this.”
He shivers at your touch but still manages to smirk when he says, “Just for you, doll.”
You groan. “Seriously, don’t call me that if you want to make it out there in time for your speech.”
“We should get rid of speeches, too,” he declares. He eyes the top of your fingers against his chest forlornly. “But I guess I’ll have to give the last one. Now, for real, tell me something extremely unsexy.”
You quip, “To help you get flaccid?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Excellent work; we’re headed in the right direction.” 
Your phone vibrates with a barrage of texts at that moment, which you check as Jay disappears into his walk-in closet to get dressed. It looks like your friends have arrived, and they’ve brought your outfit with them (you had come straight from the airport, dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt from high school). You tell Jay just as much, raising your voice slightly to be heard in the other room. “I’m gonna go get my stuff and change!”
He sticks his thumb out the door of the walk-in closet, pointing it upwards in assent. He assumes you saw it when he hears the door close, and then his phone goes off as well, inundated with a flood of texts from his newly arrived friends. 
hsm 3’s most underrated song: the boys are back (heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon, jungwon, and sunoo)
jake: alright i have to k*ll myself
sunoo: why r u censoring all of a sudden
jake: i don’t want my fbi agent to take that seriously. although i do wanna kms
jungwon: why what happened
sunghoon: oh it’s HILARIOUS
jake: stfu
jake: so there’s eggnog being passed around right? and i see yunjin so i go to hand her a cup to be nice
heeseung: ~to be nice~
jake: kys
jake: anyways then i realize that the cup was really hot so i go and blow on her drink, like a fucking weirdo, and then i blow on SUNGHOON’S drink to make it seem less weird, except he’s drinking a HIGH NOON like an absolute idiot
sunghoon: hey i got the bartender to put it into a nice glass at least
sunoo: that’s my big (derogatory)
jay: perpetual bachelors jake and sunghoon! who’s surprised
sunghoon: NOT true i’m pretty sure the student government’s social media chair was flirting with me in the library before finals
jungwon: ??? wonyoung is a lesbian
jungwon: and she was just asking u to get out of the way bc u were spacing out in front of the printer
heeseung: L + me personally i’d kms
sunghoon: oh i know YOU are not talking
sunghoon: lee “the only time i feel the touch of a woman is when i go to yoga class at the university gym once a week” heeseung
heeseung: THE WOMAN WHO TEACHES IT IS HOT OKAY
sunghoon: oh heeseung mommy kink era?
heeseung: SHE IS MY AGE
sunoo: shouldn’t u be more concerned about breaking ur back every time ur there, grandpa?
heeseung: uncalled for wtf
heeseung: also tbh i wish SHE would break my back
jake: okay i’ve recovered from my earlier embarrassment. upon seeing what heeseung is texting, i’m thinking what i did wasn’t that weird
sunoo: bffr
jungwon: jake why don’t u just ask her out? instead of being emotionally constipated
jake: ew why would i ask her out i don’t want to be in a relationship that’s for pussies (respectfully) (i love women)
jungwon: yeah that’s definitely super emotionally mature of u
sunghoon: it’s 2023 pussy is a gender-neutral term
jay: you rly just say whatever the hell you want don’t you
sunoo: oh hey i see felix flirting with yunjin
jake: WHAT
jake: suddenly i have to go
sunoo: u r literally so pathetic
jay: btw i’m coming down now but if any of you see my gf before i do can you tell her she can change in my room
jake: gross
jay: GROW UP + stay single + kys
heeseung: GET HIS ASS
Jay’s idiot friends aside (he loves them so much), he actually is looking forward to seeing a bunch of his classmates and their families at tonight’s holiday party. Senior year seems to have crept up on him unannounced, and now he’s feeling slightly (a lot) sentimental about the idea of not living down the hall or at most across the campus from all the people who have made the last few years so formative (and entertaining as hell). 
He’s still thinking about how much he’s going to miss that place and those people when he hears your voice floating down from the top of the staircase. It sounds like you’re arguing with Kazuha about how many jello shots is too many for the after-party of the next phase of new member initiation at your sorority, which makes him chuckle quietly to himself. With four humanities and fine arts majors between the two of you, neither of you sound like you have the correct math. 
He opens his mouth, ready to give his two cents, but then he freezes at the sight of you descending the stairs. Vaguely, he processes the fact that Kazuha seems to have stopped arguing and even stopped coming down the stairs herself, just so she can give you two this moment.
This moment, which is making his brain short-circuit, because you are incandescent in a slinky, silvery dress that reflects all the candles that he’s now glad his parents made him light around the place. Countless points of light impart an otherworldly glow upon you, and you’re smiling at him; Jay thinks he must have saved the country in a past life.
When you reach him at the bottom of the stairs and he still hasn’t said anything, you tilt your head quizzically. “Jay? Everything alright?”
“You look like you just stepped out of a fairytale,” he breathes out. He moves on autopilot, bending at the waist as he takes your hand and kisses the top of it before straightening up to simply look at you some more.
“And right into the arms of my Prince Charming,” you respond, only half-joking. Right now, the dreamy look in his eyes makes you want to believe in happily ever after, as if it’s something he could forge with his own two hands. You kind of think he could, with the force of all his ardor.
Multiple phone cameras going off breaks the two of you out of your spell; you turn towards your nosy friends, who hold up variations of thumbs-ups and finger hearts. 
“Sorry, you guys are just too cute,” Yunjin says, not sounding sorry at all.
“Your parents would never forgive me if I didn’t get that on camera,” Sunghoon insists.
“Speaking of, I gotta go find them to make sure everything’s set.” Jay kisses your cheek. “See you later, Cinderella.” His fingers hold onto yours until the last second; your arm and his stretch out absurdly, as if you were parting for years, not minutes. 
“So dramatic,” Kazuha teases, joining you at the bottom of the staircase. 
“Unavoidable for hot people,” you explain wryly. You turn your attention to your gathered friends next. “I’m so glad you’re all here!”
“In 50 years, you could be hosting this party,” Sakura quips. Secretly, you hope it’s a lot sooner than that. 
“New Year’s Eve on Mars?” Jake suggests. 
Heeseung groans. “I’m scared of heights; can we not?”
“How many times do I have to tell you, dude, that’s not how space works!”
Half an hour passes happily like that, chatting and joking with some of your favorite people in the massive foyer. You don’t know exactly where Jay went off to, but the answer to that becomes clear when the music goes low and Jay clears his throat into the microphone set up at the front of the foyer. 
“Thanks for coming, everyone! Hope you had a great last year, and here’s to an even better new year.” Jay pauses to chuckle. “My girlfriend and I were joking earlier about me just saying that and calling it a night, but unfortunately for all of you, I am much more verbose than that.” Another pause for a light round of laughter from the gathered crowd. 
Jay works the audience like a pro as you watch with unbridled pride. A few minutes later, he winds down to the end of his prepared remarks, which you only know because he has asked you to proofread the speech weeks ago. You’re expecting him to wrap up with a final Happy New Year!, so you’re surprised to hear him keep going. 
“A couple of last things. To my parents, and everyone at the company, thank you for putting your trust in me.” Jay bows deeply. “I won’t let you down next year.” He straightens and looks right at you. “This year has been nothing short of wonderful. I’ve been so lucky my whole life, but the last few months have been particularly special to me. I’ve gotten to know people who I want to continue knowing for the rest of my life, who make me feel like my heart is too big for me, because I couldn’t possibly fit all of the kindness and love they give to me in the confines of my chest. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I do know that my life would be bereft without it.” Jay has to tear his eyes from yours because he knows he’s liable to cry if he sees you do so. “Bereft without you,” he continues, sweeping his gaze across the foyer. “All of you, who I’m so glad to call my friends and family. So, please stay healthy and happy this year, and I hope the new year treats you as well as this year has treated me. Happy New Year, everyone!”
Champagne glasses clink around you and people applaud, but all of it sounds far away. The only thing you can focus on is Jay, who’s making his way slowly through the throng of well-wishers to get to you.
When he’s finally in front of you, you have your misty eyes under control. He drops his hands to your waist and smiles gently. “Hi, pretty lady.”
“Hello, my favorite hopeless romantic.” Your palm goes to the sharp curve of his jaw. “You just had to go and say such sweet things. What’s gonna happen to my cool and unbothered reputation?”
“Right, your reputation.” He leans into your touch. “I can think of other ways to ruin your reputation,” he remarks, low and rough.
You roll your eyes, although you can’t stop your other hand from curling into the lapel of his suit jacket. “Romantic and horny! Duality of man.” 
“I meant what I said, you know.” His eyes soften at you. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me this year. Maybe ever. I have a lot of great people in my life, but only one you.”
“I know. You always mean what you say, and I love that about you.” You lean in to press a quick kiss to his mouth. He chases after you, tipping your chin up with his hand to kiss you deeper. Sadly, it doesn’t last for too long; you’re both aware that your friends and their parents are nearby.
But later, Jay makes sure to kiss you from this year into the next one, and you hope that you never forget what it feels like— fireworks exploding above your head and in your veins, lighting you up from within. Radiant, in the glow of someone who loves and is loved.
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girlbossing soooooooo close to the sun (you, yunjin, chaewon, kazuha, and sakura)
yunjin: do u think it’d be weird if i got jake something for valentine’s day
you: yes extremely
sakura: don’t ask me i’m gay
yunjin: ???
yunjin: okay thx guys this was super helpful!
chaewon: i thought you weren’t dating?
yunjin: WE MIGHT AS WELL BE. i’m sick of waiting for him to actually ask me out
you: jokes aside, i think he’s really into you, like genuinely. but his head is so far up his ass he will never make the first move
sakura: boooooo emotionally repressed playboy how cliche
kazuha: omg u should try to do something romantic
yunjin: absolutely not i can’t be a SIMP
sakura: boooooo emotionally repressed maneater how cliche
yunjin: WHATEVER
yunjin: more importantly, what are we doing for galentine’s!!!!
kazuha: spa day i thought?
you: yes but i have to leave a little early :(( sorry ladies the community kitchen is doing a pre-valentine’s day dinner and jay and i are signed up to help
chaewon: i can’t even be mad at you that is SO CUTE
Jay gets sick in the week leading up to Valentine’s day, which puts a spanner in the works of his grand plans for your first Valentine’s together. You tell him that it’s not a big deal and he should just focus on resting and getting better, but that doesn’t stop him from moping about it. 
mother is mothering (you, niki, and jungwon)
you: can i just say that this gc name is not helping to put to rest the joke that jay and i are ur parents
you: also i Don’t think u guys know what this phrase means…
you: but anyways what’s up… children
niki: pleaseeeeee fix jay hyung
jungwon: fr we’re desperate
jungwon: he’s been playing sad john mayer songs for like three days straight I CANT LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE
niki: he called the coffee shop yesterday to see if we could set up a valentine’s day surprise for u
niki: we can’t, so i’m not ruining the surprise
niki: but he literally had such detailed plans for the surprise like WE R JUST PART-TIMERS
you: omg… my bf is so cute :(
jungwon: that is SO not the point actually that’s like the exact opposite of the point
you: dw i was gonna come over today after the community kitchen’s pre-valentine’s day dinner anyways
jungwon: THANK GOD
niki: YAY can u ask jay to help me with research material for my history paper btw
you: ask him urself?
niki: i’m scared he’s going to rope me into some other crazy plan to make it up to u for ruining ur valentine’s day plans
niki: which sounds like a HIM problem??? why is he getting ME, a CHILD, involved
you: oh so ur a child now but not when u want to sneak into frat parties
jungwon: omg SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PPL IN THE BACK
you: jungwon i know ur the one who helps him sneak in
jungwon: haha. love u mom :)
you: IM NOT UR MOM
you: btw i’m bringing back extra vegetables from the community kitchen and i expect u to eat them! jay mentioned u were stressed lately and not eating well
jungwon: okay ty… not-mom
It’s almost 10pm by the time you get to the frat house, bundled in your winter coat and weighed down with containers of food. You leave one in the fridge, labeled with a note that says “for jungwon— eat this or niki will forever be taller than you”. You take everything else with you to Jay’s room, pausing at the door when you realize you don’t even know if he’ll be awake or if he’s still sleeping off his illness.
The door swings open before you have the chance to knock, and you’re met with the sight of Jay in a bathrobe, shower caddy in hand. “I must be hallucinating,” he mutters. 
You hold back a laugh. “Nope, you’re still in the land of the lucid. I brought you some food, and I figured we could watch something while we eat. Go shower; I’ll set up.” 
Jay blinks rapidly. “Oh my god, you’re really here?” He drops the shower caddy to the floor carelessly, moving forward to hug you before he halts abruptly, inches away from you. “Wait, no, you shouldn’t be here. I don’t want you to get sick, too.”
“It’s been, like, five days. I don’t think you’re contagious anymore,” you argue, sidling past him to drop your stuff into his room.
“Really?” The hopefulness in his voice makes your heart melt.
“Really. I’ll ask Heeseung to ask his special friend to confirm, if that will make you feel better,” you offer.
Jay's eyebrows furrow. “We should probably stop calling her that, but yes, that would make me feel better. Ask while I shower, but seriously, I’m not touching you if she says no.” 
You salute him. “On it, captain.” Heeseung’s special friend is the girl who teaches one of the yoga classes at the university gym, and she’s also a nursing student. She has a name, but Heeseung refuses to tell any of you what it is. Truthfully, it wouldn’t be hard to look her up, but you think it’s kind of cute how nervous Heeseung is about whatever liminal space he’s in with her.
you: hey can u ask the love of ur life if it’s okay for me to be with jay rn?
heeseung: first of all DONT CALL HER THAT second of all why tf would she have an opinion on that
you: i wouldn’t have to call her that if u would tell us HER NAME
you: and jay came down w/ that nasty virus like five days ago remember
heeseung: oh my goddddd yeah he wouldn’t stop whining about how his valentine’s day plans were ruined
you: ur special friend is in nursing right? so can u ask her
heeseung: i’m starting to think i should tell u her name just so u stop coming up with new ways to refer to her
you: that’s what I'M saying
heeseung: but yeah sure anything to get jay to stop being so annoying
you: thank uuuuu i’ll leave u some cookies in the kitchen so give some to her okay?
heeseung: omfg u made COOKIES i am so glad jay is dating u
Ten minutes later, Heeseung texts to let you know that you’re probably in the clear. More specifically, he says that his friend says it’s ultimately best practice to stay away from Jay for another couple of days, but she thinks the two of you are so cute and she gets why you’d want to be with him, and you’re outside of the most contagious window now, anyways. 
You figure that’s close enough to a yes, which is what you tell Jay when he returns from his shower. He’s at your side in an instant, hugging you like his life depends on it. “I’m sorry,” he whispers eventually.
“What on earth for?” 
“Our first Valentine’s is going to be so lame, just because I got sick.” He sighs deeply. “I wanted to make it special for you, especially because you’re always running around helping everyone, and instead you’re here, taking care of me.”
“Jay.” You pull back from his chest to look at him. “Nothing is lame, and nothing is ruined, okay? It’s literally just a day. And you always make me feel special. Being with you is like— ahem.” You cringe at the words that are about to come out of your mouth; Jay is always effusive and free-wheeling with his declarations of affection towards you, but it doesn’t come as easily to you. The way you feel about him makes you want to try, though. “Being with you is like Valentine’s Day every day.”
He smiles gently at you, one dimple carving a crescent into his left cheek. “You deserve it, baby. And even if you didn’t, I’d still want to give that to you.”
The two of you stand like that for a while, swaying underneath the unattractive lighting in Jay’s room. His hair starts to drip onto your shoulder, though, and you remember that you need to go back down to the kitchen to set aside the cookies you promised Heeseung.
“Why does Heeseung get to have some of the cookies you made for me?” Jay pouts.
“Troll bridge toll I felt compelled to pay, all because you wanted a second medical opinion,” you respond dryly.
“I’m supposed to believe you were the first? And I’m telling Heeseung you called him a troll.”
“Keep that up and you won’t be getting any cookies, Park.” 
Of course, you feed him a cookie as soon as you’re back in his room. Jay has changed into his pajamas while you were away, and he points to another set he’s laid out for you after he’s done eating the cookie. Once you get changed, you settle on the rug in front of Jay’s bed and start an obscure history documentary together while eating the food you brought him. You warn him that it won’t be as good as what he makes (you are a far better baker than you are a cook). Undeterred, he makes an exaggerated effort to fawn over every dish and praise your skills.
Afterwards, you sit on the edge of his bed and let him lean his head on your lap as you blow dry his hair. “I heard you were being a pain in the ass this week about Valentine’s Day,” you mention. 
“That… is a distinct possibility, for sure.”
“Seriously, I think you scared away all of Niki’s coworkers. He wants your help with research for his history paper, by the way. Oh, that reminds me— what’s the name of your group chat with Niki and Jungwon?”
Jay grimaces. “Glucose father slay.”
You suppress a snort. “That’s… creative, if unsubtle.”
He hums contentedly from the just-right warmth of the hairdryer and the just-right softness of your hands. “We’ll get to have lots of Valentine’s Days together, right?”
"Of course, baby."
When it hits midnight, you’re curled up together in his bed, with his laptop still playing the credits of the history documentary. You enter February 14th like that, tucked under his chin, exactly where you want to be.
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On one of the first randomly hot days that pop up in late March before the weather actually gets warmer, you’re holed up in the library, eyes aching after staring at the tiny text in ancient manuscripts for too long and shivering in the temperature-controlled special collections section of the library. While the rest of your friends are out at the college’s golf course enjoying the warm weather at a joint charity tournament, you’re stuck here, beholden to the block in your calendar which says “manuscript time :/”. The rare manuscripts you need for your thesis are only available to be looked at during certain times, but today’s research session has proven to be less than fruitful, given how often your eyes wander to the door to the exit and how empty your notes are.
You can feel yourself dozing off for the umpteenth time when suddenly, warm hands land on top of your shoulders, and a smooth voice murmurs in your ear, “Working hard or hardly working, Cinderella?”
Jay. You turn your head to meet his gaze; crescents of affection reflect back at you. “How’d you get in here?” Appointments are usually required for the rare manuscripts room.
He flashes you a smirk. “Charmed the librarian.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you pulled with the 40-and-up demographic like that.”
“Yeah, I told her I missed my girlfriend so much I’d cry if I couldn’t see her today.” He drops a kiss to your cheek, then maneuvers the chair next to you sideways and backwards so he can sit as close to you as possible. He crosses his arms on top of the back of the chair and rests his chin against his arms to stare at you, soft and beckoning. “You look like you want to leave.”
You sigh and turn fully sideways towards him, letting his long legs bracket yours while your knees push up against the back of his chair. “You look like a reason to leave,” you admit. It comes out breathy in a way that you hadn’t intended, but who can blame you— Jay is dressed for the golf tournament in a navy blue polo and crisp white slacks, and as always, his clothes fit like they were made for him. 
In the back of your mind, you make a note to ask where he gets his tailoring done. In the front of your mind, your attention roams from the clean line of his shirt sleeves against his biceps, to the inviting curve of his mouth, to the planes of his chest that peek out behind the top two undone buttons of his shirt. All these months later, looking at him still hasn’t gotten old; truthfully, you don’t think it ever will.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Jay inquires, peering closer at you with a sly grin on his face.
“Like you have to ask,” you grumble, reaching out to pinch his cheek in retaliation for the teasing question.
He grabs your hand before it reaches him and gently bites the tip of your index finger, laughing when you make an offended face and pull your hand back. “C’mon, let’s get out of here, yeah? We should at least make an appearance at the tournament we organized.”
You glance back at the heavy tomes you’ve pulled out today— pages and pages of dense Middle English to get through. Then, you look at Jay, who has chosen that moment to skate his fingertips up and down the top of your right thigh. The decision is almost comically easy to make. “Yeah, fuck this. Let’s go.” 
You dutifully return your books and say a polite goodbye to the librarian, who coos at you both. Jay waves your joined hands at her. On your way out to the main section of the library, goosebumps form on your arms from the change in temperature: arctic vortex to plain old frigid, both of which are wholly inhospitable environments for the sleeveless golf dress you’d worn today in hopes of eventually getting to the tournament. 
“Cold?” Jay halts you both and sweeps his hands across your shoulders and down to your wrists, frowning at the chill he encounters on your skin. Normally, he’d offer you his jacket or sweater or something, but he just has the shirt on his back today. “This won’t do,” he murmurs, and then he’s pulling you in the direction of the secluded stacks.
It’s dark and shadowy there, with not a single soul occupying any of the carrel desks spaced in between the rows of books. Your heartbeat picks up despite yourself; you think you have a good idea of where this is going. This is also something that hasn’t gotten old yet and likely never will. “You know, I’ve always thought it would be kind of hot to hook up in a library,” you comment.
Jay trips over air, then quickly rights himself and shakes his head as if to clear it before looking at you again. “You would, you nerd,” he says, but it comes out low and contemplative. 
As soon as you reach the carrel desk located in the most isolated corner of the stacks, he brings his hands to your waist and lifts you up to sit on top of the desk. Happily, you hook your ankles behind his legs and draw him in to stand between yours. “You can’t tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.”
“I just wanted to kiss you for a bit, so you could warm up,” Jay insists. He leans in closer, until your chests are pressed up against each other. “But now that we’re here…” 
“Now that we’re here,” you agree. Then you’re tilting forward to kiss him, and the tension in your body from a long morning at the library dissipates into the heat of his mouth and the softness of his hair.
Jay kisses you long and luxuriously, like he was born to do nothing but stand around and kiss you. “You did so well with planning the tournament,” he tells you in between kisses, smothering the words against your mouth. 
“You did, too,” you reply, dispensing the compliment in airy gasps against his ear as he moves down to your neck, feathering open-mouthed kisses against the skin there. A whimper escapes from your throat when he bites down at the juncture of your neck and your clavicle, transforming into a breathy moan as he soothes over the sting with his tongue. His name slips out of your mouth in a dragged-out whine: “Jongseong.” 
He shudders against you. “Warn a guy before you do that, will you? I don’t actually want to come in my pants in the library.”
You giggle, tugging his head back so you can look at him. You’re met with shiny lips, slow-blinking eyes that drag up and down your body, and tousled hair, messed up from Jay’s meticulous styling by your wandering hands. Temptation, personified. “Fuck,” you breathe out. “What if I do?”
“You’re not wearing pants,” Jay points out cheekily. His demeanor switches to sultry in an instant when he presses down on your bottom lip with his thumb, and he groans when your tongue darts out over it. “God, you’re so hot. C’mere, doll, let me sort you out.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re slipping out of the back door of the library and into the parking lot. You shoot off a quick text to Yunjin, asking her to hold down the fort for a little while longer at the tournament, and then Jay is tugging you into the backseat of his car with an urgency that makes your heart pound. Now, you get to sort him out, and it’s so much better than staring at old books.
yunjin: what is taking so long i sent jay to get u like 45 minutes ago
you: sorry be there in a bit love you babe!
yunjin: woooooooooow remember when i said i would never betray u for dick
yunjin: guess u DO NOT FEEL THE SAME
yunjin: ah well have fun don’t do anything i wouldn’t ;)
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to all the boys i’ve fake-dated before (you, sunghoon, yeonjun, chan, vernon, mark, and 5 others)
you: were any of you fuckers going to tell me that jay’s birthday is TOMORROW?!
you: help!!!!! what do i get for him!!!!!
sunghoon: believe me that man wakes up every day thanking god that ur his gf. u don’t need to get him anything
you: as much as i appreciate the reporting of his simp behavior, i am IN A PANIC his birthday is in 12 hours why the fuck didn’t anyone say anything sooner?!?!
vernon: i’m gifting him a new speaker for the basement
chan: bro you’re getting that gift for ALL of us bc you BROKE the speaker in the basement
vernon: and jay is one of the many recipients of that gift!
you: FOCUS on me and MY problem please
mark: yooooo u could write him a song? i still owe u a favor so i’d be down to help
you: and make him listen to me perform it? i’m trying to keep this relationship going, not obliterate it
yeonjun: mans has one single move in his arsenal
mark: HEY it worked out pretty well for me
yeonjun: only bc u had like a million ppl helping u
sunghoon: i got jay tickets to that japanese singer he likes
you: FUCK that’s such a good idea why didn’t i think of that
sunghoon: bc u didn’t know his birthday was coming up
you: thanks genius
sunghoon: but anyways jay never makes a big deal out of his birthday
sunghoon: it’s mostly like a sentimental thing for his parents bc they tried for so long to have him
vernon: strictly speaking, they were trying to have ANY of the sperm inseminate ANY of the eggs so like it didn’t have to be him specifically
mark: dude wtf
chan: i’m sure jay will love whatever you get for him! maybe you could paint or draw something for him?
you: okay yes yes i can bang something out real quick in the studio 
vernon: that’s what she said
yeonjun: this is why ur still single
you: the sperm and egg comment didn’t give it away?
vernon: guys stop ganging up on me wtf
you: okay thank you ONLY to chan the rest of you were useless
you: chan u could start a business. like a gift-giving idea business
mark: like santa claus but without the actual gifts?
yeonjun: ghost santa claus
chan: none of you should ever be allowed to start a business
It’s 5am by the time you’re finished in the studio, and you know your sleep cycle is going to be all sorts of messed up for the next few days, but it’s a small price to pay so you can slide into Jay’s bed and mold yourself against his body, knowing that your painting of the scene of your first date is leaning safely against the wall across from you. 
Unfortunately, the swift arrival of sunrise and birds chirping outside of Jay’s window leave you unable to fall asleep (not to mention the energy drink you’d chugged at 2am). You give up on it quickly, comforted by the fact that you don’t have any classes today and can afford to sleep in when your body eventually gives out on you. 
Staring at Jay is not an unenjoyable way to pass the time, so that’s what you do. Sleep smoothes out all the muscles in his face, but the sharp angles of the underlying bone structure turn him into marble; idly, you wonder how many sculptors would kill to be able to craft something this beautiful, this timeless and exquisite. You’ve tried to sketch or paint Jay multiple times yourself, and you’re still trying (that senior portfolio is going to be the death of you), but to date, you’ve been left unsatisfied. Something about Jay is just too expressive, too lively, too attentive; you haven’t been able to nail down the exact way he moves through the world, much less the way he looks at you like nothing else exists. There’s so much love to give in those steady hands, and so many meanings to divine in those familiar eyes—
Oh.
Jay’s eyes have flipped open, displaying his least endearing habit: sleeping with his eyes open. It unnerves you to no end, even though it makes him look kind of silly, so you have to flip around with a small grin on your face. “You’re lucky I love you so much,” you whisper, mostly to yourself.
His arm tightens around your waist. “Tell me something I don’t know.” The words come out slightly slurred, and the movement of his lips against the back of your neck makes you shiver. 
You flip back around to meet his now closed eyes. “You’re awake?” Jay usually sleeps like the dead.
“I’m trying really hard not to be,” he drawls. Eyes still closed, he tugs you closer to press his lips to your forehead. “Go to sleep, doll.”
You hum tunelessly and fidget with the pendant of his necklace. “Happy birthday, Jongseong.” You can feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, but you’re quick to nip that in the bud. “Or should I say… traitor? Why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up? I had to find out from Jungwon.”
“Typical mama’s boy.”
You giggle, even as you admonish him with: “Seriously, that joke needs to die. One of Riki’s coworkers actually thinks I’m his mom, and I just have a really good Botox supplier.”
Jay’s chest rumbles in amusement underneath your ear. Afterwards, it’s quiet for a long moment before he finally opens his eyes to peer blearily at you. “Are you upset I didn’t tell you about my birthday?”
You give him a tiny shrug. “Just curious, I guess. Plenty of people don’t like to celebrate their birthdays. Sunghoon said it’s usually more of a thing for your parents than it is for you.”
“Yeah, that’s about right.” Jay rubs his thumb over your cheek. “I’m spending the day with them, actually. We go to the same place for brunch every year, and then we just kind of walk around until dinner, which I’ve been cooking for the past couple of years.”
You smile automatically at the thought of his parents. They adore you, and the feeling is mutual— how could it not be? 
Jay’s thumb halts its movements as something occurs to him. “Well, hey, do you wanna come with us?” 
Quickly, you shake your head. You can spot Jay’s Mr. Nice Guy gestures from a mile away. “Nah, you should keep up your tradition with your parents. We’re still getting lunch with them this weekend, right? So I’ll get to see them soon, anyways.”
“My mom said she loves the insoles you sent her, by the way.”
“Right? Super comfortable. I can stay on my feet in the studio all day in those.” Just then, you’re hit by a yawn. “I guess I did the equivalent of a full day last night.”
Suddenly, Jay sits up straight, making you whine about the loss of coziness. “Wait, yeah, why are you here so early? Not that I don’t love waking up next to you, because I really do, but you weren’t here last night, and… oh my god.” He cuts himself off when he spots the painting against his wall.
You sit up as well. “Don’t freak out,” you begin. “I had fun making it, okay? And I don’t have class today so I can sleep alllllll day and if you’re not tired after dinner we can hang out afterwards, and seriously, Jay, light of my life, apple of my eye, etcetera, etcetera— let me do something nice for you without you feeling guilty about it, okay?” You draw in a deep breath. “I know I’m, like, afflicted with a chronic need to be helpful, but c’mon. Pot, kettle.” You point to yourself and then to him. “I love that you’re humble and kind and you know how lucky you are, but there’s nothing… to prove. You hear me? Just because you’ve had a good life doesn’t mean you have to give 110% of yourself to everyone else to deserve it. Please don’t make yourself feel bad because you get to take something from me for once instead of giving.” At the end of your rant, you blink in surprise at yourself. “Sorry, I don’t know when that turned into a lecture. All I’m saying is that you told me once that you’d want to give me Valentine’s Day every day, even if I didn’t deserve it, and I want to give that to you, too.”
Jay’s eyes flick between you and the painting and back to you, staring at you like he’s never seen you before. He’s speechless for so long that you count to 33 in your head in Mississippis that are definitely longer than one second. Finally, he crushes you to his chest in a hug that has your arms flailing around him with the force of it. “I feel like you just crawled into my head,” he says against your ear.
You make a face that he can’t see. “Didn’t need that visual in my head, but okay, baby.”
“I mean… I’m just feeling very perceived; that’s all. And I don’t really have anything else to say except that I love you so much, and thank you, and you’re my favorite person in the world.” He sniffles, and then preempts you with a, “Shut up.”
“Noooooo, I made you cry,” you coo at him, leaning back in his hold to swipe under his eyes with your thumbs. As you continue to fuss over him and he pretends to bite at your fingers, he hopes you know just how much he’s affected by your words and just how much you mean to him. Golden boy Park Jongseong, the prodigal son, the miracle child— he doesn’t think it could fairly be called a burden, because how could it be a burden to be so lucky, to be so loved, to have never truly suffered? But somehow, you get it. Maybe because you’re cut from the same self-sacrificing cloth, or maybe because you just understand him at an atomic level, but you get it. You get that he has dedicated his life to deserving his life in the first place; you get that he tries so hard, all the time, because he wants to be worthy of what he’s been given; you get that he gives, and gives, and gives, and he never wants to take, because he feels like he hasn’t done enough to pay back the gifts with which he was born, let alone take anything else from this world. And here you are, giving him your heart on his birthday— a day he doesn't think is anything special except for the joy it gives his parents— because you love him. Because you're just glad that you were born in the same timeline. He has never dared to ask for a gift like this.
Pathetically, all that he can get out is a simple, “I love the painting, by the way.” He nudges your nose with his. “I’m going to have it framed for our place after we graduate.”
“Our place?”
“Oh, yeah.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “I guess this is me asking. Do you want to live with me next year? Wherever it is that we end up. It would be, you know, economical.”
“Right, because we totally didn’t just have a conversation about your hang-ups with being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. And mine, too, I guess.”
Jay tsks at you. “Okay, or maybe I just want to wake up next to you every day. And make you food when you forget to eat, and listen to your horrible true crime podcasts while we clean up around the place, and hold your hair when you get sick because you forgot to take your Lactaid, and make sweet, sweet love to you every night—”
“Okay, okay, stop!” You’re laughing uncontrollably now, putting your hands up to stop Jay and the obnoxious kissy-face he’s making from coming any closer to you. “I didn’t need that much convincing, although I’m not sure how effective your convincing is when you’re just listing my bad habits, Mr. I-Sleep-With-My-Eyes-Open.”
“Yeah, but aren’t I lucky that you love me so much?” Jay smirks at you before tackling you down into his bed.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you repeat to him. Sunlight slants in through the window behind his head, haloing him in a light so ethereal that you could be convinced the sun shines just for him. Like this, your words fade away from you, until all you’re left with is a quiet, heartfelt, “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll live with you after we graduate.” Softly, you stroke through the hair at his nape. “Stop wondering, by the way.”
Jay’s eyebrows furrow. “Wondering what?”
You reach up to smooth away the crease in his brow. “Wondering if you’re allowed to be this happy. I just told you, like, a million times. You are. The heavens have decreed that Park Jongseong shall be happy for as long as he lives, and a long time after that.” Dramatically, you tap each of his shoulders, as if you’re knighting him. “It is thus decided.”
Jay swoops down and plants a chaste peck on your lips. “Well, since it’s thus decided. Let me add something to that decree, though: I’m going to make you happy for as long as I live, and a long time after that,” he promises. 
And you know he will.
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(London is overcast and dreary when you touch down at Heathrow; typical, for a mid-September day. You and Jay still carry tans from a summer of island-hopping around Asia and the Mediterranean, but you’re sure those will fade soon. Still, there’s nothing you can complain about when Jay’s arm is snug around your waist and he looks like a dream in a light wool coat and admittedly unnecessary sunglasses.
You tease him about the sunglasses all the way to the doorstep of your new, shared apartment. But then he kisses you across the threshold and whispers about how much he loves you and how excited he is to be with you for the rest of his life, and you are so, so happy. Unbelievably happy. Beautifully happy. 
Happy, forevermore. This, the heavens have decreed.)
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apalestar · 14 days
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@galefcrce plotted starter.
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An eventful evening not for the soiree or clandestine deals Astarion had in store. No, tonight his palace played host to a friend of old. Admittedly, he and Gale had not ended off on the best of terms. A lover scorned and all. Already a small entourage of Baldur's Gate richest and finest had gathered. The palace had never been more livelier.
And many of Cazador's old clients and connections were all too eager to latch onto another influential person. The infamous moniker attached to his name: Hero of the Gate. Who could resist not coming to his social events? And how foolish Duke Ravengard had been to give him a noble's title! It made him respectable even if the eyes of those who knew him when he was but his slave.
This was the crux of why he even considered extending his lover of old an invitation. Gale wanted something from him; a deal. Something of import for him in exchange for magical tomes the late bastard Szarr kept in his collections. All were property of Lord Ancunín now, of course.
The musicians played a classical tune meant for partnered dancing. The wine and hors d'oeuvres flowed from the kitchens. A perfect evening for playing nobility's game.
Astarion's chamberlain, a slight thing of a woman, approached him. One of the few mortal servants in the household. Every vampire needed at least one for appearances. "My Lord, your guest of honor has arrived." She spoke quietly only once he signaled for her to do so.
"Splendid. The highlight of my evening barring any assassinations. Those always make for an entertaining affair." Astarion dismissed her. He weaved himself in and out of the crowd dodging conversations with a polite, well-practiced smile. His roguish tendencies hadn't diminished since the fall of the cult.
"Gale of Waterdeep." He greeted with the same fervor any good patriar would of an old friend; even one as estranged as him. "So pleased I am to—" A pause. "—see you. I'd fear you'd be half dead before you came to chat."
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vocesincaput-arc · 9 months
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@ordinariums (crowley) liked for Post Season 2 starter [x]
starter under cut to avoid spoilers.
Aziraphale had been doing his best to fit into his new role as Supreme Archangel but whatever he did, he had this nagging feeling in the back of his head that something else was going on. That something wasn't right. Oh, he already knew that the other Archangels didn't particularly like him, but there was something more than that. Aziraphale wanted to do good & make Heaven better, especially if the plan was to go forward. But he just didn't feel completely right. Like there was something else making him stay there.
Then there was the fact that he couldn't stop thinking of Crowley. The demon had kissed him. Him.... Everytime he thought about it, Aziraphale entered an almost daze. Losing track of things around him. There had even been times when he had been discussing things in a 'meeting' with the other Archangels and his mind had drifted to Crowley and how things had been left.
Despite being eager to make a difference in Heaven, Aziraphale was already beginning to miss his life on Earth. The food, the hot cocoa, his bookshop, his demon.... oh. When had he started to think of Crowley as his demon? He swallowed and became focused on that, oblivious to what was being said. Aziraphale was broken out of it only when Metatron handed him a coffee and he gave a smile as he took it. Coffee hadn't really been his 'thing' on Earth but Metatron had been bringing them to him since he had come back to Heaven and, well, he hadn't wanted to be impolite. He was actually starting to rather like them as well.
The meeting continued as he sipped his coffee, suddenly perking up at the mention of someone checking in on Muriel in the bookshop. His bookshop. Oh, his bookshop.
"I could check in on them." Aziraphale said quickly, trying not to have his eagerness at the idea creep onto his features too much. He would love to see his bookshop again, he had been missing it so. And, well, there was the possibility of seeing a certain demon again. "I mean, I did reside there before, it would less conspicuous for me to visit. Act as if I were checking in on it and all that."
The other Archangels rolled their eyes but eventually agreed that it was the best idea. And so Aziraphale headed down to Earth, making his way to his wonderful bookshop with an excited look on his face. He waved to Maggie and Nina when he saw them though frowned when he saw the unamused and possibly annoyed look upon their features. What was that for? Aziraphale shook his head and went to enter.
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littledashdraws · 2 years
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timeskip design for sharena!
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nevertem · 5 months
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@mahoushojoumonster
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"I don't think....I'm supposed to be questioning things." But he is. He really is. And he has been, for a while. The lines he was being given, the guided, railroaded path that he was being led down. He knew where it was going to take him.
("There is a place where all souls return to.")
But he knew the game was magical in nature. He'd known it, in some way, since the beginning. All of his games were fair. But the rules were beyond his control.
(Blue Eyes dissolving because it was stolen, instead of following the rules of the game. Red Eyes acting on Jounouchi's command)
And. Them. Following him. Following him and at first he'd thought it was just circumstance. Maybe some sort of reflection of his own nature as some sort of magician with dark powers. His partner had even used their dual nature in their duel against Pegasus. Transforming one of them into a magician with a heart of light and darkness. A reflection of them both.
But. He knew. Somehow, he knew. And he didn't know why. And it had been on the tablet. And it had been in that rip in time. And it had been in his memories. But she hadn't been. But she was there. She was the Dark Magician's disciple. And he knew that. And he knew that without even seeing her. Not a single time.
He could touch things. He could touch objects, however fleetingly, without fronting. Her card was placed on the activated duel disc, in the middle of the night. While Yuugi was asleep.
His partner never liked thinking about it. His past. Because when he knew everything....
"I don't know why I remember you. I don't even really remember you." He finally said.
He really shouldn't be asking these questions. His partner didn't want him to. His friends didn't want him to. And he knew where he'd get his answers. He knew that would set the Ishtars free. He should be keeping his head down and moving along that path. To the place where all souls returned.
"You were Dark Magician's apprentice." He looked down at the card, not the hologram. Quietly whirring away with the projector. "His will was passed down to you." That was what he told Pandora. Blindly. From the depths of his heart. "He's from my past. So you....must be, too. I know you are. You're always there when I need you." My bond with you defeated the Sun God, Ra. Our bond defeated the Wicked Gods. "You're...someone. From my past. I know....without even knowing you. It's like....you're a ghost, to me. Even haunting a ghost."
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hecatombi · 7 months
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@spookyagentfmulder // x
It wasn't every day that Vash went into bars for anything other than plant maintenance checks. Yeah, maybe he'll have a drink or two every now and then -- but, just as he'd always done, his first instinct when arriving to any new place is to scout the shadiest bar out. The one furthest from the cops, or normal civilians -- anyone who would turn him in.
Or, at least .. that's what he had been doing for as long as he can remember. Visit a town, check their water supply, fix their plants. Spend a day scouting out the shops, avoid the people so they don't get hurt. Leave. Find a new town. Rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat, rinse, repeat. The endless deserts of Gunsmoke had been familiar to him for one hundred forty nine years. it's all he'd ever known since the great crash, too. And anything he knew about Earth, about plant life -- he either knew it from Luida or Rem, and he was always told that Earth had become a wasteland.
So, then --
Why now had he awoken on a planet so similar to Earth? Where was he? He can't even remember how he got here, or why there's so many people, or why the city streets are .. decidedly less higher tech than he's used to; if he didn't know any better, he'd almost say this WAS Earth. But, that wasn't possible -- it was supposed to be gone, wasn't it?
Then again, he knows more than anything that despite the weird vibes he's getting, and how out of place he feels, he must stay calm. Irrationality leads to dark places, and though it was tempting to freak out, he'd only JUST gotten here. He needs to familiarize himself with his surroundings, keep a keen, observant eye on everything going on. Maybe it was just a new place he'd never seen before on Gunsmoke, where they just HAPPENED to not have any sand or worms or endless bloody red oceans from where he could see. Then, it was time to do what he always did. Check out the nearest bar, and get the low down on just where he was. Shouldn't prove all THAT difficult, right?
... Ultimately, it took longer than Vash would like to admit to find a bar. There was no real clear cut signs, and this place was so colorful and vibrant that it almost felt overwhelming. The place wasn't made of the typical Gunsmoke building materials; nothing here felt as rustic. It looked kind of retro to him, with patrons all in equally bright clothings and chattering away to each other.
The thing that was sounding alarm bells more and more, though, was the fact that nobody really turned to look at him. Granted, he was still kind of condensed, as to not freak out the other humans in the bar -- but even so, he stood at a hefty six foot five in said form. And yet, while he was pretty tall, there seemed to be other humans his size, too? Usually, he'd stick out like a sore thumb from that alone, and from his signature bright red coat, but here .. that doesn't seem to be the case at all.
How.. very, very strange.
Well, alright. Might as well try to find a seat.
So, that he does. After gazing all around the establishment, he sees one open seat -- with a man sitting in one side of the booth, and the other completely empty. He seemed to be drinking alone -- and though Vash couldn't tell you why, he felt drawn to him. Keeping his head hung a little low, Vash weaved his way through people with inhuman fluidity -- and once he got to Mulder's table, he knocked gently.
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"Auhhhmmm..." Vash sheepishly smiled, brows knit upwards ever so slightly. Scritching the back of his neck, and with a slightly nervous laugh, he shoots his shot. Hopefully, his smile was gentle enough to not be offputting in any kind of way.. "Excuse me, is this seat taken? I can't find anywhere else to sit, so ..."
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charmwisp · 4 months
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WHERE: DIY pop-up shoppe at rabbit creek; gingerbread house building table WHEN: 17th december, daytime WHO: anyone! ( @anchoragestarters ) CAP: FULLY CAPPED AS OF 14th JANUARY
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On paper, this had seemed like the perfect opportunity for Rika. She'd been wanting to reach out more, to try and take part in the living breathing community of Anchorage instead of living as a shadow behind the beaded curtains of her room at the Raven House. The popup had a wonderfully festive atmosphere and the air seemed to Rika as though it hung thick with the excitement and curiosity of its guests and volunteers. As expected, the gingerbread station smelled pleasantly of sugar, spice and (of course) everything nice. This volunteering spot required a few things, of course; a hint of craftiness, a dash of creativity, a generous sprinkling of baking talent and a heaped spoonful of patience. These were standards Rika could meet easily enough, even if the patience required just the smallest stretch of extra effort. She'd known from the start that she would be a little out of her depths, lacking much experience with gingerbread houses due to their lack of a cultural presence during the holiday back home, but she'd gotten the hang of things quickly enough.
That wasn't exactly a good thing. Rika was good at getting carried away, at getting far too invested in the house she was putting together, and she may have gotten distracted from her role of guiding others through their own gingerbread creations. It was only her view of her work was darkened by the shadow of another person that she finally broke free from her spiced reverie. "I'll be with you in just a moment," she said by way of apology, whipping her head up with such abrupt speed that several locks of hair broke free from their loose ponytail binding. "I'm just trying to turn this...hmph, sugar glass into a window for my church." She grunted a little as she spoke. It was tricky work. Still, just as Rika said, there sat on the table before her an overly complicated little gingerbread chapel, still half-built. "Did you need any help? After all, that's what I'm here for!" A pause, and she tucked her hair back behind her ear. "Sorry, I guess I haven't made that very obvious so far, have I?"
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circuscursed · 5 months
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"Oh... Ragatha... ahaha, fancy seeing you here..."
Pomni fumbles on her words as she greets the rag doll - the human, really, though it's sometimes hard to remember - before her. What is she supposed to say? She's been dreading talking to her one-on-one like this, though to be fair, there isn't much that she hasn't been dreading, lately.
It feels like she's constantly on the verge of snapping, her chest feeling tight and a phantom nausea overtaking her senses - which for the record, doesn't even make sense, since she isn't in a human body anymore! She doesn't know if she wants to cry or scream or what, but every moment is a struggle not to fall apart - there will be a way out, she tells herself, even though she knows she's lying, because if she gives up, then...
...Well. Back to the matter at hand...!!
"You know, I just wanted to say, ah..." she can't seem to get out the words. She has to apologize, she knows that, and she does feel guilty, it's just... well, no-one can blame Pomni for trying to get out of here, right? That exit door might've been her only chance, and, and...!
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"I'm... really sorry, about before. You know, when I, uh. Left you. Again." Great, it sounds even worse when she says it aloud. "I didn't mean to... I mean, I'm just- really glad you're okay!"
@ragsdolly ( starter! )
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balaclava-marks · 2 years
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beach boys themed old man west coast road trip around the us gp
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woewept-a · 5 months
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She shouldn't have expected any less from the Captain, what with his apparent inability to trek an inch out of line. So carefully did he structure his way of life— or death, in this instance. Oh, wouldn't she love to see him break that posture of his, just once! When one inherited a home like Button House, it was only a matter of time before it became the heart of social gatherings; spontaneous get-togethers which led right into the witching hour. It was kind of the whole point of it all, to stay up late and leave all concerns behind for a while. Of course, most party hosts weren't quite accustomed to a band of ghosts, and their loud, often differentiating opinions on every little thing.
Her smile is genuine, even when her eyes roll back into her head, and words mingle with a sigh. "Yes, Captain, I do realise what time it is, thank you. But do you realise it's Friday ni—" Before gathering the opportunity to finish her argument, she's quick to notice the momentary falter in his stance, not that he's the most subtle of men to begin with, and quickly halts her comment. Silence evoked between them for the quickest of seconds, blink and you'd miss it, and when he turned back, she made sure to position herself like nothing had transpired. Careful not to draw attention towards anything he mightn't want witnessed. She took a sip from her glass of red before continuing, a shrug dramatically making its way up her shoulders. "You can't plan these things, y'know. They just happen. And this 'ruckus' will go on for... however long it goes on for, okay? I don't see anyone else complaining." Fanny would probably have words with her in the morning, but the rest of the ghosts seemed to be enjoying themselves.
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Curiousity pulled at her, brow raising with sincere intrigue. "Alright, then. If this isn't any 'self-respecting soldiers' idea of a good time..." She repeated his phrase in a light mock-tone, no real seriousness placed upon her expression, but a sharpness present nevertheless. "What would you say is?" He was so stuck in his ways, perfectly defended against the realms of the modern world and its opportunities. Initially annoyed about his presence and badgering words; alas Alison took any chance she could to delve a little further into who the Captain was, and who he is today. Of all her housemates, he was the one she knew the least of by a mile, by a hundred miles. Knowing something as simple as how he'd prefer to spend Friday nights would be like a whole new chapter of his dusty old book revealed.
continued from here. @amischiefofmuses
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solarisgod · 3 months
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The tension from the chase still haven't left xyr shaken body, even though they are in a safe space together for the past few minutes. Back in Father Lucas' home, Micah closely analyzes the being who calls themself the Doctor. Their existence seems to be beyond Human or Supernatural─ ancient and celestial, a significant speck that holds the endless storms and stars of time and space. Micah is fascinated by them, though, finding that xe isn't the first Antigod that they have met, xe can't help but be cautious. Antigods is a covert species. Most beings don't just know. "Who were the first two Antigods that you met?" Micah softly inquires the Doctor, sipping xyr mug of hot chocolate that Father Lucas offered before leaving them alone, a seeking in comfort.
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"Again, I deeply apologize about the trouble." The 3D sentient shadows that ran after both the Doctor and xemself before they've stumbled upon each other, Micah soon slaughtering them with xyr swords. Xe notices a quiver of xyr hand in anxiety and sets the mug on the kitchen table, takes a chocolate piece from the tray. The offer still stands for the Doctor if they wish to eat some sweets. "There's been a several months worth of ongoing incident in some countries where these shadows and reflections became sentient and engaged in invasive behaviours to their sources." Since the Doctor isn't a Human, xe can explain these confidential details to them. Xe isn't working with Break Beyond Force anymore, so xe can't always hide anymore.
"Then they became more malicious over time. It's... how that chase happened." Despite the fact that there's so much that xe can do in times like this, guilt bleeds into xyr voice, everywhere. Micah flinches at the burning in xyr eyes and wipes the tears. Xyr Awareness has been blocked so xe wouldn't know their origin out of respect. Yet, now, if the Doctor can sense what xe is, Micah can at least ask @tenfoldrage this.
"If I may ask, Doctor, what are you, exactly?"
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cloudbends · 6 months
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first arc of horizons finished.... Broooo.... This keeps serving.....
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griefbuilt · 1 year
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the  shitty  thing  was  that  lucien  was  right  -----  usually  blood  loss  was  a  decent  way  to  go.  sure,  it  wasn’t  as  quick  as  a  snapped  neck,  but  the  adrenaline  couldn’t  pump  as  hard  as  it  did  when  you  were  being  asphyxiated.  it  didn’t  make  you  fight,  body  kicking  into  some  wretched  survival  mode,  bouts  of  strength  you  didn’t  have  making  you  act  out  in  desperation.  no,  blood  loss  was  peaceful,  in  some  ways.  the  world  just  got  quieter.  hazy.  your  head  got  dizzy.  your  breathing  got  shallow.  your  heart  rate  increased.  THUD THUD THUD  of  your  heart  beat  was  your  constant  companion  ------  sometimes  the  only  one.  no  one  thought  to  tell  the  poor  little  fucker  to  give  up.  but  the  cold  ?  that  sucked.  the  pain  from  the  muscles  asphyxiating  ?  that  sucked  too.  still,  there  were  worse  ways  to  die.  you  just  had  to let  yourself  sink  into  the  feeling.  give  in. 
 really,  what  else  was  he  going  to  do  ?  slumped  over  in  the  chair,  blood  dripped  from  his  face  onto  the  carpet.  from  his  arms  onto  the  carpet.  from  his  legs  onto  the  carpet.  damn,  he  was  a  crown  of  thorns  away  from  being  jesus  christ  himself,  wasn’t  he  ?  klaus  would’ve  had  a  harder  time  cleaning  that  one  up,  though..... fuck.  klaus.  caroline.  tyler,  rebekah.  they  were  going  to  be  pissed  about  this,  weren’t  they  ?  and  after  bonnie  had  put  all  that  hard  work  in  last  time.  but  fuck  being  angry,  he  needed  them  to  be  safe.  to  figure  this  shit  out.  the  hunter’s  curse  would  give  them  a  little  more  time,  throw  luke  off  his  game  (  god,  he  hoped  the  man  couldn’t  turn  a  corner  without  seeing  him  ),  but  it  wasn’t  a  done  deal.....and  that  was  going  to  what  he  was  most  upset  about.  if  he  was  going  to  die,  he  had  wanted  things  to  be  wrapped  up  all  pretty  first.  it  never  happened  like  that,  though.  
klaus  was  too  fucking  old  and  too  goddamn  stubborn  to  go  out  like  this.  same  with  rebekah  and  kol  and  elijah.....they’d  fix  it.  make  luke  pay  like  hell  all  the  meanwhile  for  it,  too.  and  tyler  ?  he’d  be  alright.  perks  of  this  throuple  thing  was  that  there  was  always  someone  else  there,  he  supposed.  and  it  saved  rebekah  from  all  those  stupid  goddamn  talks  about  his  feelings  and  addiction  and  blah  blah  blah.....  caroline  he  worried  about,  but  she  had  klaus  and  stefan.  this  might  be  the  thing  that  made  her  fight  all  the  harder  for  them.  elena  had  damon  back.  sure  it  would  hurt,  but  they  had  voth  learned  from  last  time.  and  bonnie....bonnie  should’ve  learned  by  now  that  he  was  a  better  ghost  than  person.  everyone  was  good.  everyone  had  someone.  no  loose  ends.  
they’d  be  all  right  though.  they’d  survive  this.  they’d  move  on.  things  would  be  fine.  
he  let  his  eyes  fall  shut.  
he  was  sick  of  shivering.  tired  of  hurting.  
just  sink  a  little  deeper.  
@sanguishqsstarters​
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outofthiisworld · 8 months
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@riiese asked: 03. intrude ; Doc accidentally interrupts or intrudes upon Ingvar , doing an activity (plant cultivation?) , leading to their meeting.
It was supposed to be simple today. Normal, even! A change of season brought a change in foragables– the Chicken of the Woods mushrooms are what piqued his interest to break out the hiking boots and venture far out in search of the clusters.
The hunt for dead trees (but not too dead, they needed to be freshly dead) brought the good doctor deep in the woods— a bit too deep for his usual liking— but the delectable treasure was too enticing to pass up!
That's what Doc would still believe in, if not for the colossal giant he had stumbled upon in said woods.
His old heart pounded against his rib cage as Doc tucked himself behind a tree trunk (notably, there are mushrooms at the roots, but not the ones he was looking for—bummer). From the lack of commotion, he can only hope assume he was not caught diving for cover.
'You can do this, no problem. Easy peasy. It's cool, it's fine, it's cool.'
Doc took a deep breath as he steeled his nerves, curling his trembling hands into a fist. The mantra of "it's cool, it's fine" repeated in his head like a prayer as he peeled himself from the trunk and took a careful step away. Quiet as a mouse, not a single peep.
The second step, however, left the loudest SNAP—C R U N C H of a twig that could have very well broken the sound barrier; a flock of birds high up amongst the woods squawked in offense as they fled for calmer canopies.
Doc whipped his head back around to come face-to-face with the giant (not truly, he didn't even reach the kneecaps).
"Ah shit— uh. Hello!" Doc could feel it, the hubris of his heart most certainly attacking. He tried to play it casual despite the fear etched in his bugged eyes and wide grin. "Don't mind me, just passing thro—"
An attempt to lean against a tree failed as he missed and fell face first into the dirt (followed with a hissed "shit!").
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walkitoffrogers · 8 months
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a man out of time | stucky (cont. from here)
@defectivexfragmented
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Time travel wasn't exactly a new one for Steve after waking up seventy years in the future, but this was the first time they were trying it with intention. To be fair, he'd stopped trying to follow the conversation once Bruce got deep into the mechanics. He had a lot of respect for the doctor, as both an Avenger and a friend, but he wasn't positive he'd ever followed a technical conversation between him and Tony all the way to the end. Steve had a number of talents, but he wasn't that kind of smart.
Four years into the snap, he was mostly just… tired. He cared about fixing this mistake. He did. If they could bring back half the universe they'd lost to Thanos, then it was well worth the fight they'd have on their hands. But win or lose, it wasn't going to bring back what he was missing. Bucky wasn't snapped. He was dead, Steve's whole world gone a second time right before his eyes. Solving time travel wouldn't change that.
But he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it. It was probably better if he stayed far away from that aspect of this plan because Steve didn't trust himself not to try to alter the past, at either point, to save his best friend. Nobody else should trust him with that either. His mind was on him (his mind was always on him--Steve had long conversations with his ghost in the late night hours when he was working on a bike and avoiding sleep), and for a second he thought he'd imagined that voice. It wouldn't be the first time.
He rounded the corner a second later and stopped dead, going white as a ghost. "Buck?" His hallucinations had never had a visual aspect before, and he couldn't fathom why his mind would have conjured him like this anyway. This wasn't just Bucky. It was Bucky who'd stepped right out of Brooklyn, the last night Steve had seen him before he shipped off to war. By that logic, Steve had to look different too, no longer the skinny spitfire, but taller and broader, his hair longer, his face unshaven. It had seemed like too much to bother with even if he'd picked up the shield again for this fight, the hatchet between himself and Tony temporarily buried. Nomad suited him better these days, and he had no intention of permanently returning to Cap.
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