#he used to be vain but he thought he was passed the need to impress lovers part of his life

[darkened-writer]

imagine | Star

This is based on a TikTok by @ / hamrikaa , their art piece is so stunning and I hope I can capture the sadness and beauty of it. This imagine was also made with Mitski's 'Star' in mind, so please enjoy.

PAIRING || Astarion x Tav (reader)

WORD COUNT || 881

PART TWO

Old and withered bones, the smell of old wood, and the quiet of night as red eyes were trained on the sleeping body of Tav.

Who knew that seventy-two years could pass so quickly?

As each day passed, their body aged and aged, while he stayed still so young and bright.

Like a star.

But, the years spent together were never, ever in vain, as marriage happened, nights wrapped up in eachothers arms, gentle caresses and whispered nothings. Reassurances and soft kisses on every exposed part of skin.

He never knew how much he need to be touched in a soft manner.

He never knew how much he needed to be held.

If anyone were to tell him back before their journey that he’d find someone to live for, he would’ve laughed in their face.

Their chest rose, up and down, up and down, hoarse and shallow. Tav knew it, He knew it too, it wasn’t long before they’d pass on. It was creeping up on the two of them like a deadly darkness.

The darkness was something that he was used to, but gods, did he want to stay in the sun for as long as possible with Tav.

“My Sweet, wake up…”

Their eyes opened slowly, the muscles frail and feeble, their gaze shaky.

“Would you come with me? Just on the balcony, My Dear.”

“Isn’t it almost sunrise…?”

There was a knowing look shared, Tav’s head shaking, the most movement he’d seen from them as of late.

“No… No…”

They’re lifted up into his arms and carried promptly despite the barely strong pushing against his chest, but they give up, just leaning their head into the crook on his neck until the cool night air hits their skin, eliciting chills. The sky was subtly lighting up, so slow, and yet the pit in Tav’s stomach was heavy.

Astarion couldn’t live without them.

So, he’d go with them.

He sets them down next to him, wrapping an arm around their shoulders, pulling them in as his eyes stay focused on the colors that have started to paint the skies.

Red, Purple, Orange.

“Ideally, even when I was just a spawn, sometimes I thought about walking into the sun to end my suffering. Dissipating into the air, alone, hopeless, missing my old life.”

A beat of silence.

“But…” He looks down at Tav’s resting head, a adoring look in his apple red eyes.

“I was taught, by someone, who was my favorite little travelling companion that… life was worth living for. And, I found myself living for them. Without them, I could never… would never.. Make it another day.”

His voice wavers into the crisp morning air, the dew upon the grass and leaves of trees sending an earthy smell into the atmosphere.

“So, I cherished every single hour, minute, second, and fleeting moment with them because I knew that the day that they were set to die, I’d have no choice but to go with them.”

“Astari–”

“Shh… let me finish, Darling.”

They let him continue.

“I’d move mountains for you to live for another century, to live for ions with me, hand in hand, watching others pass, get old, live their own lives while we continue our together but… our story– our story has come to a close, My Dear.”

His hand shifts to hold Tav’s.

“As I see it, we are a star that has burnt out. We’re tired, aren’t we?”

Tav erupts into a coughing fit, in which Astarion holds them close until they calm down.

The sun begins to rise, slowly, the beams hitting the grass as it slowly moves to cover the entirety of everything, all at once.

“I think we lived well, all things considered.”

He looks down at them, listening to them speak.

“That knife to my neck was quite the impression. And the seduction. But, I knew that all you needed was compassion.”

“You were always a wicked little thing, but your kindness knew no bounds.”

His skin began to flake, a gasp rising from his throat as he held on for dear life, cold hands grasping his lover.

“I never knew love until I met you, and I hope if there is another life after this, we may reunite and continue where we left off, My Treasure.”

A tear fell down his pale cheek, heat radiating from him as he begins to fade into the ether. His head leans down to connect with Tav’s, eyes open, looking into theirs as the last thing he wanted to see before he truly disappears, is the first thing he noticed about Tav. Their eyes.

“See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

The red is gone and now replaced by the view of an empty chair, Tav now sat alone as the sunrise graced their wrinkled skin, but nothing could ever replace the warmth of Astarion. Nothing.

A week later, Tav’s body was discovered curled up on Astarion’s side of their shared bed, a small smile gracing their face, as if satisfied with their life, all the ups and downs, battles won and lost, blood shed and wounds patched up. All of it cultivated to a love that would transcend past their last breath.

Even a dead star can be made anew.

In another life.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #astarion x you #baldurs gate astarion #self indulgent angst #xreader #fanfiction

[thegoatsongs]

Sometimes I will watch a book adaptation as a movie/show and think about how the original text has so much that could benefit a visual medium, but that potential gets completely wasted.

For example, there are plenty of Dracula adaptations where Dracula throws away Jonathan's mirror. This is a good opportunity to show without telling about how many weeks have passed after that until Jonathan attempts his escape. Show him in a stubble that eventually grows into a beard. Make his hair messy, how he wears the same change of clothes for weeks and weeks, it's wrinkled. In general, most adaptations give me the impression that he's been there for a week, max. He was imprisoned for months.

When Dracula steals his clothes on May 31st we get the first large gap between entries, which is almost 18 days, which indicates a variety of things, including depression and despair. Since this can't be communicated through blank pages on screen, there's plenty of opportunity to show it otherwise. He has no mirror, but he has his razor. Show him reach for it, before stopping himself. Is it because he wants to attack his captor, or something else?

There are no mirrors in the castle, and he can't check his own neck if he's been bitten, maybe show him try to find a reflective surface in vain after one of his strange dreams (and they are another great visual opportunity to show his subconscious vs reality). If you go with that route, dial up the horror by getting us to finally see marks on his neck, which he cannot know are there.

There's more, like actually showing Jonathan's "brain fever" disturbing his and Mina's nights and being lost in "the hue of unreality" he tells Van Helsing about. Maybe give him a walking aid. Showing Jonathan clean-shaven since his wedding to show it's an important ritual to him and being on the way to healing. Then he starts growing facial hair again after Mina's attack.

No one ever shows Dracula's forehead scar, which is more than just an identifier of who he is despite his becoming younger. From a storytelling standpoint, it's proof that he is not indestructible, without needing too many words about that. From a symbolic standpoint, it parallels him with the only person Dracula has a psychic bond with, Mina, who also gets a scar on her forehead. Or how he in the end was marked to die by the person who scarred him.

And that's without going with the other characters, who I have thoughts about for each too.

Not to mention so many other books that rely heavily on symbolism. On-screen one can do so much more with Hyde's (as well as Jekyll's) appearance than making him a big monster or an uglier Jekyll, for example. Depending on the route they want to go with. But anyway that's for another time, I'm just having thoughts on directors showing they have a deeper understanding of the text than just "tick the plot boxes".

#dracula daily #dracula #jonathan harker #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #henry jekyll

[bzhitstruth]

Many "gifts" from GG and DD

So much has happened over the past three or four days that I couldn’t even gather my thoughts together to make a post.

Of course, everyone already knows about the cameras Leica, about the number of GG's photos (18-33-28 and 18-25-23), about camping and the cake with sheep, and so on.

I want to write about some moments that especially impressed me, in addition to the main “candies” that fell upon us in abundance. This post will probably turn out to be chaotic, but I am now very impressed by everything, and there are a lot of emotions.

Everything is fake, fiction and my stupid fantasies, don’t pay attention.🤡🤡🤡

“Everything is cute, everything is cool.” We saw the phrase in the post by GG's studio: “Life is bright, everything is cute.” Less than a day has passed (namely 19 hours 50 minutes), and YBO replies: “Everything is cool collected”. And we're reminded of the old LRLG fake material where it was about "ok, you're cool, I'm cute." Can anyone say that this is the coincidence?! This is the real dialogue during short time!

Yesterday DD again showed us many photos with Leica. It would seem, why focus so much attention on it? It's funny that if you leave a comment or repost, the effect with flying small pink cameras appears on Weibo:

It occurred to me to count all the DD's photos from the trip to Paris on Weibo and Instagram (including duplicate of photos), where the camera Leica M11 is present. You won't believe. There are 23 of them. The word “coincidence” already gives me a callus on my tongue.

Yesterday DD stunned everyone with his 100500 photos around the small iron pole. Turtles on Weibo wondered why he paid so much attention to this inconspicuous place. And it turned out that it was not in vain! Of course, this is the street corner with special numbers - 23 rue Bachelet 75018.

And also the red-yellow-green dog, and DD standing proudly against the background of bicycles. When GG traveled abroad in February, there was the episode in his video where he was in front of motorcycles. Such a funny "exchange".

There are also some interesting things in the GG's birthday photos and video. For example, in some photos GG looks strikingly similar to DD. The turtles mostly took notice of this photo. If you close the right half of the face, you get an almost mystical resemblance.

But I also noticed another photo, the first time I saw it, I really thought it was DD. How can this be? It really looks like some kind of magic.

Of course, GG put on the little lion again. It is interesting that it was in this jacket that GG returned from Paris to Beijing in March (Paris again!). And it was in it that he was photographed for his birthday. And this is not the first time that the little lion appears in the GG's birthday photos. By the way, one more interesting detail: it seems that this particular jacket is hanging in the background in the famous GG's photo that captivated everyone:

The phone card case appears again:

Inscription in the sky. In GG’s video at 4:16, a certain effect appears that resembles the legendary “wangxiao” inscription; in one of the BTS of “The Untamed” GG puts his name under DD’s name and then crosses it out in embarrassment. I'm not really sure if this is intentional or just a visual effect and abstraction, but it looks very similar!

The Chinese turtles, at least, were very enthusiastic about this effect (and they are still better versed in written characters than I am). Even if it's not intentional, it looks amazing because it really does look a lot like those signatures.

At the end of GG’s vlog, the phrase appears: “So, did you come up with a name?” (所以, 想好名字了?), this seems to be a reference to the ending of The Untamed when Wei Ying said, "You need to come up with a name for this song":

Another thing that no one seems to have noticed is the DD's Douyin video. Look at the time of publication. This is the screenshot from my phone, I'm in the same time zone as Paris, in Europe. In China at this time it was 16:05. Don't you think that this is another gremlin-DD's trick - to make the post on 5.10 at 10:05, but in Paris time? In my opinion, this is quite in his style.

And a little about personal impressions.

Interesting is the photo where GG is holding the cake with sheep. This is the only photo in his first photoshoot where he is smiling. In the rest of the photos he is thoughtful, even seemingly sad, and in some places stern. Only in this photo does GG have bright and gentle expression on his face, and the special smile, the look in the other photos is completely different, tougher or directed inward of himself. Even the jeans he's wearing don't appear anywhere else except in this photo. It seems to me that this is the special photo, taken by the special person and at a different time. Can be compared with other photos supposedly taken by DD.

This is probably very subjective, but it seems to me that there is some subtle similarity in these photos. Love. Well, I think so.

BJYXSZD 💚❤️.

sources: Weibo.com, Douyin.com

#yizhan #bjyx #bjyxszd #cpn #just imagination #i think too much #yizhan my love #ggdd secrets

[simpliao]

that was the moment he realised ; (irl) schlatt x reader

– part one , – part two , – part three , – part four , – part five , – part six

summary : a weekend getaway vacation, just what the pair needed to get away from busy city lives. in just enjoying the moment, what once was a silly, dismissive thought to the male, now hits him straight in the face. and for once, he's okay with it.

info : fluff, mild swearing, she/her pronouns as well as reader being described as a woman (pretty girl), sappy, like really sappy but i adore it.

a/n : i actually adore fluffy schlatt, i always got the impression that he hides the fact he's the biggest softie out there to pretend to be more macho than he really is. considering i am sadly very much single, having some fluff like this is a comfort to me. so this is kinda just a comfort post where i have them gush about being in love. <3

The lack of any rustling but that of the leaves of the trees was a different, and almost bizarre thing to wake up to. Almost expecting to suddenly hear the burst of a car horn reminding him of his apartment being right on a busy street; and yet this peace remained. Pure rays of light slipped through the blinds, filling the bedroom with a gentle golden glow. Under his arm, Y/n slept cuddling into his side for warmth; the rented out cottage wasn't exactly the best insulated. With the utmost care, he slinked his arm away from her, mindful to not jostle her awake. Her form wrapped up in a French linen comforter, disheveled sure, but to the New Yorker she was too damn gorgeous for her own good. His eyes lingered before retreating from the room, short steps leading down into the open concept living room and kitchen.

Today was Sunday: the end of the weekend and their last day before they had to go back. It was oddly serene, seeing the living spaces highlighted by morning shine. Just checking the fridge, it was already pre-stocked with bougie shit that he didn't recognise. Even the milk was some kind of unpronounceable brand, acting as if it was above all the other milk brands. The memory of Y/n sometimes buying these kinds of things didn't pass him, a smile grew to his lips as they'd debate if fifteen dollars for specialty cereal was really worth it. That was when she has initially moved in, now he didn't bat an eye when things around their home moved around or suddenly gained new items that he was unsure about.

She slowly changed what was once a stinky bachelor pad into a presentable home, warm and cozy, especially when she made it a point to hang up pictures of the pair and establish a colour scheme for interior designing. Just thinking about it made him homesick, he even started letting her come to the office and change things around just so he could have reminders of her in his space. Although the two started their relationship in private, only really friends and family knowing and teasingly keeping it out of public eye for the sake of privacy. It was ultimately in vain since despite it being Schlatt's wish, he ended up spilling it to his viewers after having her show up in countless streams and endless twitter interactions. (All painfully flirty.)

Considering Y/n was also a public figure, some part jealously irked him when fans would inevitably ship her with other people. Getting it out in the public at least made that mostly die out, his liberal use of nicknames like 'my girl', 'sweetheart', 'doll', and 'pretty girl' even in front of the camera cemented the pair's bond. Considering the two's interactions were thousands of times cuter than her platonic interactions with friends, her fans ate that shit up.

"Good morning." Speaking of which, she groggily came down the stairs with a tired yawn. His shirt dressing her body, and despite what anyone else might've thought; all he saw was a goddess that descended from those steps. “Did I wake you? I was going to get started on breakfast.” Which wouldn’t be anything fancy since Schlatt wasn’t exactly the best cook. “It got so cold without you. I figured if I couldn’t sleep anymore might as well follow the heater downstairs.” She huffed out, fully descending the stairs to approach her boyfriend. Sitting atop one of two barstools of the kitchen’s island. He snuck glances in between of gathering things from out of the fridge. Her features highlighted by early light, easily one of the most angelic things he’s ever seen. Her eyes heavy as she was still in the rices of fully waking up, yet still remaining with a lazy smile as she watched from a short distance. “Take a picture.” She mused, rubbing her eyes slightly whilst teasing the male with one of her devilish smiles. “It’ll last longer.” “Oh shut up.” He dismissed despite holding one of his own.

The scene was serene, Y/n's gaze glued to her boyfriend of close to two years. While he always noticed her far off looks, he never realized it was because she was completely enamoured by him. Always watching over his figure, habitually dressed in basketball shorts and sweatshirts. (Of which she stole constantly, never bothering the brunette considering he adored seeing her wrapped up in his clothing.) Eyes always fixated on his face, whenever the pair were alone she got the privilege of seeing him in his softer side. Grins teasing at times, but commonly genuine and so loving. His intensely dark brown irises so filled with love whenever they met hers, always feeling like when she first fell for him; the butterflies never left. Where could she even begin with his curled caramel brown locks? Her fingers twitched, yearning for the pair to snuggle up and put on a movie; giving her the perfect opportunity to run her hands along his scalp.

In the grand scheme of things, they hadn't been together very long, neither having knowing each other long before completely falling into this state of love. What started as limerence grew to real, seldom true love. In such a simple scene, where the New Yorker had prepared (mostly uncooked) scrambled eggs and (slightly burnt) buttered toast, retiring to a seat beside his lover where the two chatted about whatever came to mind. The pair always having gazes filled with such enamour, adoration like their partner had hung the stars and moon.

"You know, I kind of wish we could stay." Y/n had spoken offhandedly, spooning the yellow mass onto one of her slices of toast. She followed up her comment soon after taking a bite, "I love this cottage... But, I wouldn't mind spending forever anywhere as long as I'm with you." Forever. The word poignant and sticking within his mind, spending forever with her, it was a thought he always briefly had. His insecurities drowned it out, fear of falling out of this kind of honeymoon, fear of her no longer looking at him like he looked at her. He feared that later down the line she wouldn't see him the same, he was scared to commit to her.

And yet, with her affirmation of always wanting to be with him, even if she spoke it in passing with it seemingly escaping her lips and being forgotten soon afterwards, it filled him with some kind of comfort unlike perviously when it'd fill with with anxiety and dread. Rather than worriedly question and wonder about the future, if she was his forever, from this moment on he realised just what kind of bliss that would be. Memories flashed his mind of what they had done this weekend, of what they'd done during the entire duration of their relationship... How it showed no sign of ever slowing down from the past two-ish years of their love. How he wouldn't trade all the money in the world for his darling, his pretty girl.

Just looking at her now, soft smile directed towards him, a kind of beauty he couldn't form into words radiating off her. He could spend forever like this. Mornings of home cooked breakfasts, afternoons working alongside each other and evenings of either going out or staying in. Everything seemed to make him excited, he craved to experience it all, experience it all with her at his side. She was his certainty, she would be it. His number one, his forever.

"Yeah..." He muttered out softly, pushing the mug to his lips to take a sip of bitterly black coffee. "I could spend forever with you too." Just seeing the way her eyes slightly squinted as she smiled made his heart burst, his hand found itself reaching over to brush his thumb over the edges of her lips to rub away crumbs. "You eat like a baby, you know that?" "But I'm your baby." She grinned, letting his hand linger on her cheek as his stare was nothing but overwhelming tenderness. Yeah, she was his. And in that moment he decided that he'd be sure to make it official, more official than just the common titles of boyfriend and girlfriend.

Because, that was the moment he realised... This was the girl he was going to marry.

#schlatt imagine #afab reader #irl people #jschlatt #reader insert #schlatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #chuckle sandwich #fluff #minecraft youtubers #sappy i know #comfort post #relationship #love #fanfic #she/her #x reader #female reader #fem reader #imagine #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x reader

[beautification-tales]

Getting Fit

As the summer sun beat down mercilessly upon the concrete jungle of the gym, Julie, an overweight woman with short brown hair, pushed herself to her limits on the treadmill. She glanced around, her eyes landing on Mark, a chiseled bodybuilder who seemed to command attention everywhere he went. Julie couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as she watched him lift weights effortlessly, his muscles rippling beneath his sweat-drenched tank top. It had been a year since she had started coming to this gym, determined to get in shape and catch the attention of men like Mark.

Unfortunately, her efforts had been in vain. Every time she would glance at Mark he was either talking to a sexy fitness model or oblivious to her existence. However, she felt a bit of confidence today and thought of striking up a conversation with him.

"Hey Mark, love your muscles," she said as she walked up to him, her heart pounding in her chest.

He glanced over at her, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thanks, I guess. You are?," he replied, his voice deeper than she expected.

"Oh, uh, Julie. I'm new here. Well, not new to working out, but new to this gym. I've been trying to get in shape and... well, you know," she said, motioning to his muscles. "I figured if anyone could give me some advice, it'd be you."

Mark smirked, looking her up and down slowly. "Oh yeah? Well, I've been working out for years now. It's not just about coming here and doing this. You need to eat right, sleep right, and dedicate yourself to it. You have to be willing to make sacrifices."

As he spoke, Julie felt a twinge of excitement course through her veins. She wanted to impress him, to prove that she could do it. "I've been working on my diet," she said, trying to sound confident. "I've lost a few pounds already, but I know there's more work to be done."

Just then, a sexy fitness model walked up behind Mark, her long, toned legs leading the way. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him away, giggling flirtatiously. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you busy?" she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

Julie felt a stab of jealousy as she watched them, but she forced a smile onto her face. "Oh, no, I was just leaving," she said, turning to walk away. As she left the gym, she couldn't help but feel defeated. She had been so close to talking to Mark, but once again, she had been pushed aside.

Later that day, she met up with her friend Rebecca, who was an EEW wrestler. Rebecca had been raving about a new steroid she had gotten her hands on, one that promised incredible results in just a few days. Julie was skeptical at first from Rebecca’s explanation as it seemed too good to be true. Rebecca used to be small and unassuming but now she was a rising star in one of the biggest professional wrestling promotions. If it had worked for Julie then it could definitely work for her.

For the next week, she followed the instructions to the letter, injecting herself with the experimental drug every morning and evening. As the days went by, she began to feel strange sensations coursing through her veins. Her muscles ached, but in a good way. She could feel them growing, becoming stronger and more defined with each passing hour.

By the end of the week, she returned to the gym, a confident woman. Her body had transformed; her once flabby arms and legs were now toned and muscular. Her stomach was flatter, and her breasts seemed perkier. She walked up to the mirror and admired her new physique, unable to believe the difference just one week could make.

As she was stretching, she caught Mark watching her from across the room. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and she could feel his gaze burning into her skin. Suddenly, she felt a surge of power course through her veins. She had done it. She had caught his attention. She began to rack some weight when she noticed Mark was walking toward her.

"You must be new here," he said, his voice deep and commanding. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

"Oh, uh, yeah," she replied, her heart racing. "I just started coming here a few weeks ago. I mean, I've been working out on my own, but I wanted to, you know, see if I could get some advice from someone who really knows what they're doing."

Mark smiled, his eyes taking in her toned body. "Well, it's good to see you've been working hard," he said, motioning to her muscles. "I'm Mark, by the way. I'm the gym's head trainer. If you ever need any help with your routine or just someone to spot you, feel free to ask."

Julie's heart skipped a beat as she listened to him. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. "Oh, thank you, Mark. Can you spot me for a few reps?” Mark nodded as Julie began her squats.

As she lowered herself down, her large ass jutted out even more, pressing against the backs of her thighs. She could feel Mark's gaze burning into her flesh, and it only served to make her movements more sensual. With each rep, she could feel his desire growing more intense. She smiled as Mark got closer and she could feel his arousal.

Finally, she completed her set and stood up, breathing heavily. "Thanks, Mark," she said, grinning at him. "That was a killer workout."

Mark replied “Any time.” Julie walked a way feeling victorious knowing she would never be pushed aside again.

#beautification #transformation #f2f transformation #female muscle #musclegrowth

[eli-writes-sometimes]

Seven Snippets, Seven People

Tagged by @lyssentome, thanks for that!

Rules: post seven snippets and tag seven people.

This is gonna be a long one so snippets will be under the cut

1.

“Right, here’s two black roses. That’ll be five coppers, if you’ll be so kind.” I start as Hunter returns, clutching a small glass with two delicate black roses in them, and waves her hand in the air as my father reaches into his pocket for the money. 

“I’m sure you know what you’re doing, Hunter, but I have to ask. Why are you doing that thing with your hand?” I ask, and hope that the question doesn’t come across as offensive - I can’t be seen as intolerant towards others, even if their actions make no sense. 

“Oh, don’t you know? This is how I water my plants! There’s a lot of water in the air that we can’t see, and I can manipulate it to get enough water for all my plants, like this!”

She pulls her hand sharply back towards herself, and droplets of water begin to appear in the glass, quickly filling it up past the stems of the roses, which almost begin to look fuller and healthier, although that might just be a trick of my imagination. 

“Very impressive.” I say, and she smiles. I’m glad to hand out validation when these people probably don’t get it from elsewhere.

2.

“I thought that we were going to pay our respects. She is dead, after all.” “Well, I can see why you might have thought that. But, due to…” His eyebrows start to come closer, only slightly, but I instantly recognise his face reserved for considering the exact words to say to someone that means that they will agree with him and stay calm. Finally, he sighs, and gives me whatever version of events that he believes that I will take the best way. “Due to the manner of the incident that has occurred, it would be best for our public image for us to make a statement, separating this incident from our name.” “Yes. You said.” 

The comment slips out more deadpan than I intended, and my father clearly notices. 

“Excuse me?” “Well, you’ve been very clear that you want to separate our name from this incident, but you’ve been adamant on just changing the subject, or saying that I wouldn’t believe you. But here’s the thing. Every time that you say that I wouldn’t believe you, it makes me more and more inclined to not believe you. So, are you going to give me a straight answer, or am I going to turn around and walk back home, sending you to your little reputation-ruining eulogy with nothing.”

3.

“I- What are you talking about?” “Trust me. Please.” “I can’t! How can I trust you when you keep avoiding the question like it’s an assassin with a knife?” “I- It’s hard for me to talk about this. Can’t you have some respect for your father for once?”

He’s wrong. I know that he’s wrong, he probably knows it too. But he’ll never back down, and we both know that, as long as no-one saw it, it never happened. 

The beauty of politics, he calls it. The horror, more like, but I’d never tell him that. 

He looks back at me with that smug, smug look on his face, and we both know that there’s nothing I can do or say that will ever come close to outsmarting him.  I sigh, defeated. “Sorry, Father.” “Of course. I can forgive you this, because this must be a lot to take in. That comment may have been slightly uncalled for, and I apologise for that if that will help you calm down. I need you to be upset but not in a state in which you cannot deliver a speech.”

4.

“Now, get dressed quickly. Formal attire, obviously. Wear something black, and have a rose in your hair.” “A rose? Who’s dead?”

Wearing a rose is the highest form of respect for someone who has passed, and people of our societal level would only wear it for someone incredibly important or close to us. 

“Alya Maxwell.” His tone is as monotonous as ever, and he looks almost surprised when I recoil in horror. “Alya’s dead? Gods, Father, break it to me gently!” Even as I say it, I wince and shrink back, hoping he won’t notice me taking the name of the Gods in vain. 

He gives me a withering look, his purple eyes boring into mine, but quickly replaces it with an uncharacteristic look of sympathy as he takes in the look on my face. Alya never meant that much to me, but I still find myself feeling upset on her behalf. Unlike my father would like to believe, I do still have feelings.

5.

My father would never admit something like that. He always wants to keep up his image of a perfect man with a perfect life, and not just in front of the crowds. He’ll never admit he doesn’t know something, not even to me. 

“I- no reason. Sorry, Father.” “Hm. Well, we’re nearly here. Ah, but let’s make a stop here. I see you haven’t got the rose I asked you to get.” He gestures at a flower shop, and I feel my face growing red.

“We didn’t have any!” He smiles as I start to get defensive, and I fight off the defeated sigh that is attempting to force its way up my throat. I’ve always hated when he does that, when he laughs at my pain. I just tell myself that it’s because he has a lot on his mind, and hope that, if I say it enough, I might start to believe it. 

“Right, right, of course.” He says, almost chuckling at the expression on my face, and I fight down the urge to get even angrier. We’re in public, and I know what happens when I make a scene in public. If I embarrass him, then I embarrass myself, and if we fall out of public favour, we’re ruined. Reputation is everything, and we both know that. 

6.

“Wait a second. Memorial?” “You think something like that could happen and Alya would survive?” “Maybe! She’s a resilient woman!” “Right. But not that resilient. Someone tried to go in and look for her, and the shadows flew out at him, knocked him to the floor like a ragdoll.” “They’re physical things?”

This is bad. I’ve never heard much about shadow manipulators - there seems to be some kind of town wide taboo on the subject, and no one seems to be able to broach the subject without getting really paranoid, looking over their shoulders like the law-enforcement officers are going to jump out behind them and arrest them for disturbing the peace - but of the few nuggets of information that I’ve been able to get out of them, the shadows created by those that could control them were never physical things, and only the most powerful could actually solidify them. 

7.

My job isn’t as bad as it could be, and my charisma has to count for something, because I probably wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t have it. I’ve managed to make at least one “friend” with the personality that I built for myself, and they seem to tolerate me, for now. I don’t know what will happen when they find out what I really am, but I suppose I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it, just like all the others. There's a reason that I took the name Ashes. 

But, all things considered, the people here do seem to tolerate me, at least. They trust me enough to open up to me, at least, so that’s why I’m not as surprised as I maybe should be when Kallisto Ried, my only “friend”, and a regular of the Black Swan. 

I’m polishing the glassware, just like any other day, facing away from the door towards the area in the back where I can hear Jett, the owner of the tavern, chastising Alekto, the guy supposed to be helping me on my shift, for being late again, and him once again pleading guilty to spending too much time with his boyfriend. I sigh, not being one for romance, and turn back to the door, where I hear a loud crash, and the door suddenly swings inward violently, and Kallsito runs in.

Tagging - @mariahwritesstuff @elizaellwrites @druidx @writeintrees @ehlaaaaaaaa @rms-writes @e-lisard

#eli tags sometimes #eli writes sometimes #seven snippets seven people #my writing #wip tros

[s-lily]

Avatar - The Next Shadow

Let's just dust this drawer and take back my obsession of thirteen years back.

I saw Avatar The Way of Water, and of course, I have to consume every piece of media available. So here are my summary, impressions, and comments on Avatar The Next Shadow

..... Spoilers ahead .....

OMG! This has a strong beginning. 

The story begins 14 days after the first movie. Jake is dealing with the fact that his human form died. I absolutely loved his internal struggle. We tend to forget how bizarre this “passing through the eye of Eywa” can be. 

At the same time, he is dealing with a broken clan, and a broken human base, with different interests, but the same goal of survival.

They reused a character introduced in Tsu’tey’s Path, Ka’ani, and I loved him here. Seeing him grow from an incompetent hunter in training under Tsu’tey wing to the loyal warrior next to Jakesully is beautiful. 

I also liked Katherine Hale (even if her part was short), we need more good humans. 

What was a surprise here was Arvok, in Tsu’tey’s Path, Tsu’tey mentioned Arvok is just a child. And it’s implied he hasn’t bond with a direhorse yet, however, here, the first time we see him (like 3 months and 14 days after Tsu’tey called him a child) he is a warrior, he is using a cummerbund, implying he has been through the Dream Hunt. Details like this make you wonder how much thought and research are put in this comics. 

Anyway, Arvok, is a pure soul and needs protection away from his parents, like seriously, this duo Artsut (mom) and  Ateyo (dad) are shady as hell, no to mention they are terrible parents! How Tsu’tey became so noble? (Yes, he was at the beginning cautious about Jakesully, the alien, but after Jake proved his value, he was so loyal to him.) I guess it is because he was constantly under the ward of Eytukan and Mo’at. 

I was so sad when Arvok accepted to walk the path his parents set for him. All Tsu’tey effors to protect him where in vain. Also, I didn’t understand why he killed a Ikran, just for the blood? and he wasted the rest, this do not align with the Na’vi ways, or maybe it was HIS ikran? Like he is renouncing what he was before?

A parenthesis here just to tell how much I love Norm for refusing to “blow off some steam” by shooting idiotically at the machinery. I mean, he was just 14 days ago in a big kind of life and death situation between open fire. He understands guns are not to play around with. 

And back again with Tsu’tey’s terrible parents and a pain in the ass for Jake. He is around trying to do his best, helping in the healing of the CHILDREN affected by the war, feeling the consequence of his decisions, and here comes Artsut to screw him up. How hypocritical of her to say they don’t follow Eywa when she is the one who has plotted to kill the Olo'eyktan - ditching tradition (he was pointed leader by Tsu’tey, the former Olo’eyktan) and Eywa’s will (Eywa has saved Jake so many times, hasn't she seen the signs? NO!). She is full of jealousy toward Mo’at, maybe she is grieving the death of a son, but above all, I think she is power-hungry. She wants his mate to be Olo’eyktan, not his younger son, so she can be Tsahik. 

I loved Mo’at here for stand up for his son-in-law (when he is clearly clueless XD)

And cocky Jake Sully in his full glory is back, and I love it. He is struggling with this leadership thing, but one good fight, THAT he can do. It’s also good he has Norm and Ka’ani to keep him focused on the important. 

Of course Jake wins (and he mentions his marine background, I love it when people remember it because that’s so Jake, that part of his human side is so engraved in his DNA), and he is so chill that the worst punishment for the kid that he can come with is trash duty. Come on! How can you not love Jake Sully!

In a tantrum and last resource to not disappoint his parents, Arvok throws the dagger, that happens to be poisoned by his parents who did not tell him. Artsut declares Ateyo the new Olo’eyktan, and chaos and confusion breaks loose among the clan. Arvok is thrown under the bus by his parents, blaming him for Jake’s death, so he runs away. Meanwhile Artsut wants to condemn Mo’at for leading the clan to their doom.

Ka’ani interferes, he is the voice of reason and speaks about traditions, but guess what? Now Artsut (when best fit her) says traditions are not laws… but then Jake is breathing! He is not dead, something in his human DNA saves him from Artsut’s poison. So Ka’ami makes a clear stand: meanwhile Jake is still alive, Jake is still Olo’eyktan, and he will protect him. 

They need to plug in Jake to Eywa, but Artsut opposes saying the poison will infect everything around it (of course she will know, she brewed it!), and she dares Jake and his supporter that if he is really the chosen one by Eywa, he will save himself. 

Now, it happens that Mo’at knows an antidote, but the main ingredient is located in a sacred cave where no adult Na’vi (because of their size) or children (because of the danger) can enter. So they call the humans and Katherine Hale. Artsut loses when the human crew enters the Tree of Souls (you know, that sacred place no outsides were allowed? LOL) and it’s just so funny to watch this awful woman and her husband lose. 

Ka’ani acts as deputy Olo'eyktan sending everyone home, Ateyo opposes his orders, but Ka’ani put him in his place. He is SO done with the Rongloa family’s shit. 

Artsut finds Arvok and tries to manipulate him to trust her again, but he finally sees beyond that and defends himself. He prefers to live in exile than return with her. Now, Artsut implies heavily that no Na’vi can’t survive alone (I think it’s an interesting statement for future plots in the movies, maybe?), and she mentions a clan in the ashes   (like, hello! Movie 3!) that will not judge him, and accept him even with his “crimes”.

Meanwhile, Jake is dreaming vividly, and Eywa reaches her branches to protect him (by the way, he doesn't poison anything around him, so Artsut was wrong).

Guilt for his silence about the RDA’s plan is burning within him. We see him admit to himself he was selfish, he wanted a functional body (even if it wasn’t his, it was Tommy’s avatar in the first place), he wanted a life with Neytiri, and Tsu’tey’s place (I think he means be Neytiri’s mate and be a praised warrior, not literally being Tsu’tey himself). Now there are people, his people, who are paying for his silence, for his decisions. He doesn’t feel worthy to be their leader, he've been gnawed by guilt. He thinks he deserved to die by Quarith’s hand. He feels so defeated, so human, corrupted, and a poison to the Na’vi.

Then Eytukan and Tsu’tey come to his rescue. They literally help him to stand up, and after a heart-to-heart conversation, they help him to accept his worth; what he has won for himself, and that it was not taken; to accept himself as one of the Na'vi people, to see around and see the people who love him.

And it’s beautiful, and I promise you I'm not crying. ;_;

We see a little bit more of Tsu’tey and Jake bonding, and how pure Tsu’tey’s soul is. He believes there is no malice in his parents (protect him Eywa!) and although he knows repercussions have to be made, he reminds Jake that there can also be mercy. 

They say their goodbyes and then Jake wakes up in the iconic close-up of his eyes. (I need this sequence on the big screen, or in an animated series, in something!, bring back Tsu’tey!)

With Olo'eyktan safe and sound, the Omaticaya try to bring the Rongloa family (they have found Arvok at this point) to justice and Jake honoring Tsu’tey’s memory tries to act with mercy, but Artsut spits the word “Demon” when addressing to Jake. Arvok states the obvious and exiles himself and his family. 

Jakes humbly asks the Omaticaya clan to trust him and teach him. They accept his leadership.

On the other hand, in exile, Artsut thinks the Mangkwan Clan will receive them (I wonder if this is the Ash clan?), but Arvok rejects to follow his parent’s path again and decides to leave on his own. (Good for him!) 

Finally, Jakes finds himself under the tree that he was at the beginning, he makes peace with his dead human body, and he embraces his full Na'vi identity.

Wow! What a ride! and I liked it! 

At first, I thought Artsut's behavior was so against the Na’vi ways, but now, knowing by James Cameron himself that in Avatar3 we’re going to see the bad side of the Na’vi in the Ash Clan, I think it makes sense. Also, I think they are trying to put the seed for the future plot.

I liked to dislike Artsut. I would like to see her and Arvok again in future comics. 

Finally, but not least important, I absolutely loved Jake's journey here.

#avatar #james cameron avatar #avatar1 #avatar2 #atwow #the next shadow #avatar the next shadow #post: mine #Avatar meta #avatar comics

[leweebdepoche]

A bad day for Red Velvet? o(￣┰￣*)ゞ

Like every morning, Herb cookie was awakened by the soft, bird-like sound of his alarm clock. Like every morning, he got up, got dressed, had breakfast, and then washed and brushed his teeth. He left one last look in the mirror to ensure everything was in place, throwing his usual anorak over his shoulders. Storms were rumbling around the city this week, so he might have to work in the rain. Mounting his bike, he took his usual route and pedaled to the agency.

As usual, Herb Cookie liked to cycle around the city in the early hours of the morning, when everyone was still asleep and the absent cars were giving way to pedestrians and two-wheelers. He didn't need much to live and was very content with his life. He was very satisfied with his life, which was rather homey and routine, and which suited him perfectly. And he was lucky enough to be able to live his passion by looking after the agency's garden. An agency committed to providing quality green space for its employees was very rare.

For all these reasons, he was very happy with his situation. But today something was different. Although he was living a new day in the life that he loved, Herb cookie was not smiling. He had a heavy weight on his heart that he couldn't shake. Last night's news had shaken him to the core. More than twenty thousand hectares had burned in four days, and it was already the fifth mega-fire that had broken out in the cookie kingdom. The forest of his beautiful green country was going up in smoke without anyone being able to do anything. And no one could do anything to prevent such disasters from happening again.

The cookie gardener was desperate. He worked to protect nature and share his love of plants with others, hoping that they would protect it themselves if they discovered how beautiful and vital it was to them. But now he was desperate to see all his efforts in vain. So much energy spent for nothing. It was like talking into the wind: no one was taking the issue of global warming seriously, even though they could see the direct consequences. It was appalling. For Herb cookie, it was a disaster. His heart was completely burned by the fires that were destroying everything around them. Every tree that went up in smoke was another knife in the cookie's nature-loving heart.

Finally arriving at the agency, he parked his bike in the completely empty bike park of his company. No one else was using it, much to his chagrin. He sighed and grabbed his work bag, heading for the shed where he kept all his stuff. He tied his apron around his waist and put on his gloves. Taking a deep breath to give himself courage, he put on a determined expression and went out into the garden. The sun, already warm despite the clouds, had been out for a while. The cookie grabbed the hose and provided the water the plants needed to survive the killer rays.

The morning passed without any notable events to disturb her. Trying to forget his dark thoughts, Herb cookie had immersed himself in the particularly meticulous care of the company's green space. He had become so wrapped up in his own world that he barely heard the president calling him repeatedly.

-Herb cookie!

-Yes! President! I'm listening!" he jumped to his feet, realizing that she had been calling him for a while.

-You sound lost in thought," she remarked. "Is everything all right?

-Oh, I'm sorry..." began the cookie gardener. "I'm just not feeling very well today.

-Do you need a rest? Don't work yourself to death! I don't want to see you get sick from overwork..." "No!

-No! Don't worry, everything is fine! It's not the job that worries me!" he cut her off, worried about giving her the wrong impression. "It's just that... our forests are going up in smoke, and I don't feel like there's anything we can do about it other than watch them disappear..."

Frost Queen looked at him with compassion. She knew how much the cookie loved nature, and plants in particular. She knew that because she was the one who had recruited him. During her interview, she had been charmed by the passion of the over-educated cookie who had no place in the large public parks dedicated to the conservation of species. She decided to give him the task of building and managing a large green space to improve the quality of life in the company, and she has never regretted her decision!

-Is there a reason you're out on such an unpleasant day for a walk?" he tried to deflect the subject from the very depressing one of fires.

Frost Queen smiled.

-Yes," she then said. "You!

-Me?" replied the cookie, not quite understanding what she meant.

The president pulled a document from the pouch in her hand.

-I have received a request from the castle to hold the next plant fair in our garden. The beauty of the space and the excellent health of the plants grown there caught the eye of the castle's landscaper. He considers your work to be exceptional and worthy of recognition," she explained, handing the unfolded paper to the man concerned.

He looked at it with his eyes rounded with surprise. He raised his head, stammering a sentence that did not pass his lips, and returned to the paper, trying to understand what was happening to him.

I need your approval, of course, but I want you to know that I'm all for it," the ice-blue cookie told him. "You've put so much care into raising all these beautiful plants. Some are even endangered varieties! I think that opening the doors of our garden to the public will be good for the business and also for raising awareness of the importance of protecting our environment. In any case, this is what I would like to do through this plant fair, and it will be one of my conditions for the castle. What do you think?"

-I...I...." began the cookie who still couldn't believe it. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he was so moved. He smiled weakly, regaining his composure and forcing himself to find the courage to answer.

-That's a very good idea, Madam President. I think it will be a very good thing to have visitors. And adding an environmental protection theme to the event seems to me to be very appropriate!

The cookie smiled at her. She knew he would like her idea. She was about to leave when the cookie resumed, looking a little confused and seeming to struggle to hold back her emotions.

-And also...thank you. Thank you for giving me this chance to practice my passion so freely. Thank you for your continued support since I arrived here. Without you, none of this would be possible!"

The cookie had spoken without looking the president in the eye. He didn't feel able to. His emotions had taken over and he doubted he could fight them if he looked up. Frost Queen waited a moment before answering him.

-It's your determination and quality of work that we have to thank. And your passion, Herb cookie. It was your passion that convinced me to trust you after all," she replied gently.

Seeing that the cookie did not respond, she continued before taking her to leave.

-So I say to them that it is an honor for us to host the next kingdom plant fair," she said, turning away.

Leaving the cookie alone among the blue and pink hydrangeas, she returned to her desk. With the invitation paper to host the event still in her hands, the cookie tried to regain her composure. Clenching his hands on the piece of paper, he finally straightened his head with determination. Maybe it wasn't all in vain after all, maybe there was still a chance!

Reinvigorated, he picked up his rake and whistled back to his work when a group of cookies appeared on the corner of the lawn, cups of coffee in hand. At the sight of the gardener cookie, they approached happily.

-Herb cookie! How are you doing?" Pumpkin Cookie called out to him.

The group of Mint choco, Cotton, Red Velvet, and Pumpkin stopped at the garden cookie to chat.

-Pumpkin! I haven't seen you in a while!" her face lit up as she saw the cookie coming with a big smile.

-Hehe, I just got back from leave! I'm still thinking about the beach to tell you the truth!

-Ooooh, how lucky! Did you have a good holiday? Did you enjoy yourself? You've got some colour on you!"

-Yes, it was great! You know how much I love to go to the beach, so I was served there, it was so beautiful! The ocean was beautiful! And so hot my god!" She recounted, stars in her eyes.

-The ocean was super hot this summer, it was great! I don't like swimming because I always think the water is too cold, but I was so happy! I've been soaking in it all summer," says Red Velvet.

-Yeah, but it was easily 40 degrees some days... it was really hot," protested Cotton cookie. "Next time I'll go on holiday up north instead. I can't stand the heat anymore!

-Oooh, our head of department is cold? We shouldn't send you up north, we should send you to the North Pole with the penguins and the polar bears" teased Mint Choco.

-Very funny, Mint Choco! Don't worry, if you expect me to be eaten by a polar bear there, there is a little risk! There's hardly any left," Cotton replied with a murderous look.

-With the temperatures here, the ice will soon melt anyway," Pumpkin agreed. "The North Pole will soon be a distant memory.

-Ah, it's not just the ocean that's disappearing," continued Red Velvet. "Our forests are going up in smoke. Soon we won't even have enough wood for the winter!

-Oh well, the forests don't matter, they'll grow back! The North Pole is a different story," Pumpkin replied.

Herb Cookie, who was watching the group of cookies talks like this, broke down. How could they talk about such a serious subject so casually? They were watching their house go up in smoke, and that didn't concern them any more than that? While they were still blithely talking about a subject that was of the utmost importance, the cookie gardener felt anger rising inside him. This time it was too much. He couldn't take it anymore. With everything that was going on at the moment, he found it intolerable that the cookies were saying such things.

-The melting of the ice floe or the disappearance of tens of thousands of hectares with the mega-fires is not a subject to be laughed at casually" he exploded, causing a general startle to the group of cookies. "It is our home that is disappearing before our very eyes through our own actions, how can you laugh at that with so little consideration? What will you do when we no longer have enough viable space to live in? Do you know how long it takes for a tree to reach the heights of the ones going up in smoke? And do you think it's right that all these animals and plants that didn't ask for anything from anyone should have to suffer the massive destruction that we impose on them for our own needs?

He stopped, catching his breath, red with anger. The cookies, who all looked bewildered, looked at each other alternately, not knowing what to say.

-We are unscrupulously destroying the planet we live on and you laugh at that! It is because of unconscious people like you that nothing changes! Because cookies are too cowardly to face reality and change their lifestyles we all have to suffer, helplessly, as half of us consume twice as much CO2 as the rest of us are so eager to never consume! And you hide behind your cowardice by saying that just because you do something doesn't mean it will change anything but it won't! There is always something to do to protect the environment! And there is no small gesture! So stop running away and be brave! Act instead of laughing like fools!

Throwing his rake to the ground in a rage, Herb Cookie took off towards the shed, leaving the group of cookies still in disbelief at what had just happened. The gardener cookie arrived at the entrance to his den and felt his muscles gradually relax. Standing in the middle of all his tools, he let his tears roll down his cheeks. He had acted in a fit of rage, not tolerating the behaviour of his colleagues, but now he regretted his action. He had been too hard on them and he realised it.

He knew that the cookies were aware of the situation, he was simply on edge and had not been able to control himself when he heard such a speech. So he had unleashed all his anger on them when they didn't deserve to be treated that way. He wiped his eyes angrily and headed for the sink to clean his tools when he saw Latte enter the small cabin.

-Herb cookie..."

She approached him with an apologetic look. Cookie quickly wiped his eyes and looked away. He didn't want the cookie to see him like this. Seeing the cookie's reaction, Latte turned and crossed his arms. A slightly awkward silence passed before she cleared her throat.

-I...heard something happened with the cookies so...I was just checking to make sure everything was okay..." she said, trying to break the discomfort, but the cookie remained prostrate.

She sighed and her shoulders slackened suddenly, shaking off all the discomfort in one fell swoop as she spoke honestly.

-If you need to talk, I'm here for you," she said more simply. "I know my colleagues can be a bit insensitive at times, so feel free to break their backs with me. I know they deserve it!"

His sentence drew a slight smile from the cookie.

-Thanks Latte," he said. "It's just that... they did have some harsh words, but I think mine were even harsher. And they weren't deserved. I said things to them that weren't meant for them. I haven't been feeling well since this morning and they took the brunt of my fatigue and stress.

He had delivered his explanation in a weak, listless voice. Latte turned slowly and looked at the cookie with compassionate eyes.

-I don't think you said anything inappropriate to them though," she said. "They told me about your conversation, and frankly, from the way they acted, I think you were just telling the truth.

The cookie looked up at her with surprised eyes. He hadn't expected this reaction from her at all.

-Protecting the environment is not something that should be laughed at, that's for sure. And to behave as they did is reckless, I agree with you completely.

Cookie looked at her with infinite gratitude. He could feel that the cookie was not saying this just to please him, but that she really meant it. She shared his despair at the situation. But even if she did, and even if she was right, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He frowned at the thought.

-But still, I think I should apologize to Cotton, Mint Choco, Pumpkin, and Red Velvet," he said. "I don't think I was right with them and I regret my words. I could have said it another way."

Cookie looked at him thoughtfully. Herb Cookie was incorrigible. He couldn't stand the thought of hurting a cookie's feelings, even when they were wrong and he wasn't. It was terribly frustrating. It was terribly frustrating to see him self-flagellate like that, but at the same time, Latte knew it was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him.

-I don't think you traumatized them, you know, they've seen it all before," she reassured the pitiful-looking cookie. "If you really feel bad about it, you can always go to them tomorrow and apologize, but I think you should also give them a chance to improve and realize their own mistakes. Who knows, maybe you will have a surprise tomorrow? You have to trust them too."

Herb cookie looked at her in amazement. The cookie's words were definitely full of wisdom, more so than he had expected. He nodded weakly.

-Yes, you are right. I can give them a chance to realize their mistake, and if I really don't feel good about it, I can always go apologize to them tomorrow.

Latte smiled encouragingly at him.

-Thank you, Latte."

-Why are you thanking me?"

-You took time out of your break to come and make sure I was okay. That means a lot to me, so thank you!"

Cookie turned her head to hide her cheeks that were flushed with pleasure. Herb Cookie had just thanked her with his angelic smile! She couldn't get over it.

-It's normal! Colleagues have to stick together, right?

The cookie gardener laughed at the cookie's embarrassment.

-There's an exhibition of endangered exotic plants on Saturday at the Palais de la découverte. Would you like to come with me?" the cookie asked him in the most natural way.

-Me?" Latte Cookie turned as she realised she was the only one in the room and gave her interlocutor a surprised look.

The green-haired cookie nodded.

-Yes, you! How about that? I'd like to thank you for everything you've done for me," she said.

Latte blushed outright this time.

-O-ooh, that's so sweet really...ahem! I'll gladly accept! I'll join you on Saturday for the exhibition! Text me the address and time!"

Scared the cookie would notice her red face, she ran off, saying she had work to finish. Herb cookie watched her trot away, a silly smile on his face. It had been an exhausting day, but at least it had given him the courage to ask Latte out on a date. And that, no matter how angry he'd been before, made him the happiest cookie in the world.

TO BE CONTINUED

#crk latte cookie #crk herb cookie #crk cotton cookie #crk sparkling cookie #crk red velvet cookie #crk pure vanilla cookie #crk meets disney #cream unicorn cookie #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk fanfic #crk icons #crk espresso cookie #cr kingdom #crk #fanfic writing #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[bitter-sweet-coffee]

I’m like 99% sure the Shadow is 15 thing game from an early 06 script/document. I vividly remember reading the specific part of the document but I haven’t been able to find it.

I do really think this is being blown out of proportion.

yup! that was misnomer i mentioned in a reply once but i couldn't remember if it was a mistranslated beta manual or sorts or early game documents. it was an error, not canon: a one-off accident that got removed immediately and never made the final cut is like saying a typo from the script has renamed the character. hell, sonic was 8 in a heroes manual and knuckles had s typo in another, so even FINAL sonic work has one-off errors (also like, most of 06 lmao)

i just keep getting more amused as this drags out because pissed people are proving my point: some fans are easily worked up when their own interpretations are challenged by... canon! which misses my point that fanon can be inconsistent with the source material... meaning people should stop trying to fight for shadow to be 15 in vain and use this to embrace their characterization.

if these angry people truly cared and put thought into their analysis beyond "it's canon" then me saying shadow is ageless wouldn't matter, because to them he can still be 15. however, this group of people who unfortunately ruins the reputation of fans (especially shippers) are under the impression they need to be canon in order to keep their version of shadow... so i literally made a follow-up post saying for people to keep doing what they're doing 💀 all i ask is for people to stop getting so defensive when they're wrong about canon sonic information by continuing to thoughtfully do whatever they want so long as they aren't passing false information off as canon!!! because that's shitty!!!

[lindajenni]

sep 11

a more excellent way

"but earnestly desire the best gifts. and yet i show you a more excellent way." 1 cor 12:31

from there the apostle paul begins to expound the beautiful love chapter. "though i speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, i have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal." 1 cor 13:1

are you a sounding brass or a clanging cymbal? in other words, what you do for God, is it really a "works" or solely the love of God and mankind, seeking God's glory? paul tells us that it doesn't matter how gifted we are or how hard we labor for the kingdom, it might well be all in vain.

Jesus said, "many will say to Me in that day, 'Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?'" matt 7:22 and His response will be. "i never knew you." you see, they were not only trusting in their works, they were also doing them with the wrong motive.

i learned that lesson very well the night my mother died. i know i have told this story before, but i believe the lesson it teaches justifies repeating it.

i had been through several years of struggle and illness with my mother. not to try to justify any motives, but one's flesh becomes tired and a little resentful when burdened for a time. mine was in that state. although i was dutifully doing whatever might be required of her care, my heart was not where it should be.

my mother had just come home from the hospital, yet again. though i did not know it then, it was for the last time. i was sleeping on the floor in her room so i would be nearby to hear her requests and assist her as needed. she had already called out to me multiple times for assistance and now once again, i heard her voice awaken my slumber. as i got up to help again, there was a tinge of resentment at having all this be my burden.

i am not one prone to visions or hearing God speak, at least not audibly, but even though i felt no holy presence, a sudden thought entered my mind which i knew was from God. it pierced my heart so deep i can almost hear it still. "if you don't do it in love, it doesn't mean anything."

you see, God isn't impressed by the things we do but the love we do them with. i had heretofore done everything a dutifully daughter should, but God was not impressed. He wanted more from me. He wanted me to know the love Christ felt on the cross when He uttered, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do." luke 23:34

likewise, i did not know what i was doing when i did it only dutifully and not with love. i doubt whether we will be questioned at the pearly gates by saint peter when we arrive, but if we were, i have heard it said there would be only one question asked: "did you learn to love?" not just those who love us in return, but those in which love brings no return.

truly, "love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." 1 cor 13:4-7 love is not love till you give it away.

i passed my mother from my arms into God's that night, peacefully and lovingly. because God had spoken to my heart there would be no regrets or guilt for the enemy of all lies to beat me down with. God opened my ears to His whisper in my hour of need. He is so good.

i learned my lesson that night, but truly it is a lesson that must be learned over and over again. it's not a one time lesson. it must be learned and lived daily, given freely and taught others by example. it is the more excellent way. "beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God." 1 john 4:7 indeed, God is love.

this IS knowing God. how will you answer the question if ever it is asked? i'm asking you now. "have you learned to love?" i believe we are about to experience love in a way we have never known before. the One who loves us most will summon us unto Himself. "and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also." john 14:3 He has been in preparation of that place for two thousand years now. i think it's about ready for us to come home.

"Father, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me: for thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." john 17:24 there's that amazing love again!

Jesus further said, "by this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another." john 13:35 i look around today and i see so much dissension among His body. it makes one wonder why the enemy would even need to fire a shot. there is so much "friendly fire." certainly there are some doctrines that must be adhered to and really be called christian, but all the rest are just squabbles for the Holy Spirit to sort out, not us. we worry so about the speck in another's eye and ignore the plank in our own. "let each be fully convinced in his own mind." rom 14:5

if we were ever to be used by the Spirit for correction, like an archeologist digging for unknowns, we must gently dust away the dirt shrouding the treasure hidden below - the one for whom Christ died. love as Christ loves us! Jesus told us the two greatest commandments and they had to do with love; God first and man second.

#prayer #faith #rapture #jesus

[dearcraziness]

Chapter 54.

Bendy packed his things, put them in a rucksack, and the magicians were ready to go home. After passing a snow-covered field bounded on one side by firs, aspens, birches, the devils soon came out on a familiar path with white benches and a small fountain that does not work in winter. Moments later, the sweethearts found themselves in the garden and, after observing the night view, which remained friendly even in the darkness, entered the cozy native corridor. Having put things in their places, Bendy looked into Lara's room to wish her pleasant dreams, but found the girl was standing near the window and, apparently, preferred watching nature to sleep. The young man came closer to his beloved and, stroking her on the head, then on the back, said, "I feel you, Larry, the landscape is truly fascinating and indescribably magnificent... The glow of stars in the night sky leads to delight, encourages you to think about constellations which are inaccessible to the eye without using a telescope..."

"Think about how many impressive celestial bodies inhabit the vast cosmos..."

"... A magnetic cosmic world consisting of a number of Galaxies connecting into the Universe..."

"... Surprising in its structure and size..."

"... Uniting planets, comets, asteroids, stars, satellites into one unbroken system and including the most distant space objects from each other..."

Smiling devils they looked at each other happily, after which Bendy added, "Darling, you wouldn't mind dinner, would you?..."

"How did you know?..."

"Otherwise, you usually go to bed almost immediately, and now you're thinking about what dishes to taste..."

"Would it be difficult for you to cook something delicious for me?..."

"No, of course not, it won't, starlight, I'm going to the kitchen right now... Cutlets with rice and cottage cheese casserole with strawberries for dessert suit you?..."

"Without a single doubt, I like the sound itself..."

"The dishes will be prepared soon, I'll call you, dear..."

Bendy left the room, headed down the corridor of light yellow planks, found himself in the kitchen, and, taking out appliances, table accessories, tea set, tea leaves, products and spices, got down to business. The young man creatively approached this lesson and, one might say, cooked dishes with special warmth - that's why they turned out very tasty. It was as if he was creating edible paintings, works of art that, as usual, didn't stay on the table for a long time. A portion of cutlets with rice on a plate resembled a happy smiley face, and Bendy laid out strawberries on a curd casserole for Lara in the form of a heart, pouring strawberry sauce on top in the same shape. Finally, when the imp set the table, he returned to his beloved's room and announced that dinner was waiting for her in the kitchen. Holding hands, the couple went to the delicious-smelling dishes and sat down at the table. As soon as they started eating, they thought they heard someone's footsteps. They saw Boris entering the kitchen and frowning slightly from bewilderment and misunderstanding.

"Are you having dinner?..." he asked.

"Yes, we are..." Bendy confirmed. "Do you want too?..."

"Of course not..." the mechanic hastily replied. "Do you even know what time it is now?..."

"It's twelve, or rather it's nearing half past one..."

"And you're eating..."

"So what?..."

"At such a time you need to sleep..."

"But we traveled and returned quite recently... Although, for me personally, it doesn't really matter when to have dinner - Lara and I wanted to eat and sat down... You don't care about the question of time, do you, dear?..." the young man turned to the girl.

"No, the main thing is the dishes are delicious..."

"You see, Boris, you're paying attention to it in vain..."

"Yeah, sure..."

"You're probably hungry too, that's why you're grumbling... Sit down, I'll pour you some food..."

"I'll sit down, but I won't eat..."

"You have a new way of agreeing to invitations, I understand..."

Boris lifted his lower lip and, looking away, tried to find the words. Bendy looked at him calmly, waiting for an answer. The mechanic couldn't say anything, except for the one phrase which was spinning in his mind.

"How did you understand I don't refuse?..."

"You don't deny food at all..."

"That is, you are hinting that I am a glutton?..."

"No, you just prefer to maintain a well-fed level of existence..."

"Can you speak English?..."

"You like to eat, but is it bad?... Since it doesn't harm your health, then eat as much as you want... Magical creatures have a special digestive system..."

"I know, there's no need to be clever here..."

"And I wasn't going to..."

Lara couldn't hold it and laughed at the scene that was happening. Bendy smiled broadly and sat down next to her, while Boris looked away, pulled the first plate with warm cutlet and rice and began to eat. However, his face also lit up with a pleasant barely visible smile, and his eyes were filled with joy because his friends understood him.

"So, will you tell me how your hike went?... I can't wait to listen to your story..."

Suddenly Alice came into the kitchen and, looking at her friends, said, "Neither I... It must have been great..."

"Oh, Alice, are you still awake?..." Boris asked.

"Sure, I noticed a light in the kitchen, and here you were..."

"Sit down, let's have dinner together... Bendy, will you fill it up, please?..."

"Yes, of course..." the imp answered and got up from the table.

He carefully put the food in the dish with a spoon, and then took a piece of dessert with a spatula and placed it on a snow-white plate with a gold border. Having brought the dishes and put them on the table near Alice, Bendy brewed tea in a cup with a lavender pattern and, together with a saucer of the same color, moved it a little closer to the angel. He sat down next to Lara and, stroking her back, continued to eat.

"Although it's already late, it's always nice to discuss urgent issues together..." Boris remarked.

"In that case, we'll tell you a story which has covered our entire day..." Bendy replied.

"I think you'd like to go stargazing with us..." Lara said.

"I'm sure we would..." Alice replied. "Boris and I had a lot of work to do in the evening..."

"Fortunately, we finished everything, which means we can rest tomorrow... Read fascinating stories... And next week we'll organize a hike, watch the stars..."

"Why of course, the weathermen promised warming..." Alice said.

"You see how well we have guessed, dear..." Boris smiled.

"Will this time suit you, Lau?..." asked Bendy.

"Of course, for sure..."

"Splendid... Now it's time to start our story..."

Bendy described in great detail the constellations he and Lara saw, the search for nearby planets using a telescope and the discovery of other amazing, exciting space objects. The narration turned out to be colourful and fascinating and made a positive impression on the others. Soon Lara joined the narration, and the sweethearts finished the story together. Friends discussed what they heard, shared their favorite moments and the best, in their opinion, events in what happened. Not much time passed, and they switched to other topics, and after talking for a while, wished each other good night, and went to their rooms. Bendy covered Lara with a blanket in her bed and, kissing her on the cheek, said nice words for the night. She responded in kind and fell asleep a couple of minutes later. The young man was watching the girl for a long time, sitting on his knees near her bed. However, he was also embraced by the world of mysterious astonishing magical dreams...

#bendy and the ink machine

[poweroverflowing]

"So you're real after all." Julius thinks about this for a moment, puzzling over the mercenary - now adorned in the colors of the Golden Deer - who had seemed too in sync with the mechanisms of the book to be intruding upon it. He huffs then and shakes away the doubt and any implication that he had ever been wrong in his assessment. "Of course, I could tell. Andrei - the third in our party, if you recall - doubted you though."

"Anyway--" He waves his hand to brush the topic away. "The reason I came to find you again was to extend an offer." Ruby eyes drop once more to the Golden Deer insignia and hesitation holds back the invitation for a moment. If the man had already declared an allegiance, then he was no longer a free-floating agent Julius could employ for his own personal benefit. Not that he had much money with which to pay even a lone swordsman, anyway, but the chance that Oberon would take the offer seemed to shrink. Nevertheless, he presses on.

"As I'm sure you might have guessed, I am a prince in my homeland. The son of the emperor, in fact. Your performance - but most importantly, your protection - in battle against our storybook foes impressed me, and I am not easily impressed. What say you to dedicating your blade to me?"

Julius' words fall on deaf ears, for the man he speaks them to--known to him as Oberon--rushes in for a hug. He cares little for who finds him real and who doesn't, instead amazed and incredibly grateful that Julius managed to survive. His wounds were near fatal in their final fight, so perhaps Odin shouldn't be so quick to squeeze him half to death. But he can't help it. He thought this man might've been a goner, even in the event that he immediately go into intensive care following the events of the Projectionist. But how he rejoices in seeing him alive and well! Well enough to keep up that brooding attitude of his, at least.

"So you draw breath!" He shouts, arms coiled round the redhead's body and showing no sign of letting go, "Surely this is a revelation from Justice! I can see it now: she spread her mighty wings and loosed a flurry of her divine feathers. Each drifted to our mortal plane and landed on you, o fearsome mage, to grant sweet life as a reward for your sacrifice! A sacrifice that was not in vain, might I add, for the rest of us were triumphant in that fight! Seriously though, it rocks to be speaking with you."

Though the hug would come to end, with Odin releasing his grip on Julius and allowing him to breathe, his joy would not. On his face remains a bright beam, in ashen eyes the spark of reunion. Recent life had been a strange pulling sensation, with Odin being dragged this way and that by the whims of circumstance, but he can rest easy knowing there are few comforts that will never leave him. The bond he shares with his teammates is undeniably one of them.

The moment of unbridled happiness passes, and now the words the prince had spoken fully register within the hero. Positivity recedes--but does not fade--leaving him with a bittersweet sensation. "Ah... Though it's really great to see you again, I must confess I hath pledged my loyalty to another: Prince Leo of Nohr." His tone now stings with regret, wishing there were two of him that could work for both royals. That's simply not the way things work, though. "And even if work with him gets boring once in a while, I quite enjoy being his retainer. (Plus he'd have my head if I tried to quit!)"

He risks looking downtrodden now, apologetic that he must decline the Velthomer. Though his view of Julius is certainly rose-tinted, Odin is no fool. He can sense a hint of possessiveness in him. Dark fears a negative reaction, and so is quick to remind his ally of an important fact, "But take heart, my companion. The Band of the Crow will always be bound by our experiences--friends for life, even--so should you ever require anything of me, you need no more than to say the word."

#IC #ASKBOX #DISGRACEDVESSEL

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

#jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #nct #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fanfic #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #nctcreations

[transholmes]

Yennefer couldn't remember when she last felt this tired. Maybe during her training at Aretuza?

Yes her wounds had healed and yes Chaos coursed through her veins again, but fuck she felt like lying down and sleeping for a week. Maybe a month. Had Voleth Meir given it back as a gift for being returned home? Or had the leader of the Wraith somehow blocked her access to it to trick Yennefer into giving her Ciri?

Loose thoughts and wild theories spun through her frazzled mind.

She leaned her head back against the cold stone wall, pressing her palms against the stone, trying to draw some strength, energy, something, anything from them.

"Here."

Jaskier had appeared at the corner of her vision, holding out a bottle towards her. Exhausted she took it and studied the plain, unmarked clay vessle.

"What is it?"

"Well it tasted like water so I guess that's what it is. And since I'm still standing I'd say it's probably not poison but who knows."

It wasn't until the water touched her lips she realized how parched she had been.

"Ever the fool," she said, handing the empty bottle back.

"It's worked for me all these years, no need to change winning strategy."

Somehow, in spite of everything, he hadn't really changed. Even now, his foppish clothes covered in dust, dirt and monster blood, his hair disheveled and tangled he looked like he was ready to entertain a court, or at least a tavern room. Not that long ago it would have irritated her immensely, now she found it a comfort.

"You look like shit," she said.

"While you of course look as flawless as ever."

"No, I look like shit too. I could use bath."

"Well in that case let tell you that I've been reliably informed that there somewhere beneath this crumbling heap of stones are a set of hot springs used for exactly that purpose. Which honestly surprised me, I always thought that witchers just, I don't know, took a dip in an ice covered lake. Something like that."

"They do give that impression don't they?"

Her stomach chose that moment to emit a loud growl.

"When was the last time you ate?" Jaskier asked.

"I honestly don't remember."

How long had the fight against Voleth Meir lasted? Couldn't even have been an hour yet it felt like days, weeks.

"Right, we're raiding the kitchen before we make off to the pools."

He took her gently by the shoulders and began to steer her towards the kitchen.

"We don't want you keeling over from hunger. That would mean I could add a very embarrassing story about you to my already extensive catalogue of embarrassing stories about Geralt. Like that time he fainted from blood loss because he was too stubborn to listen."

"He passed out?"

"He did indeed. And if you're a good sorceress and eat all your vegetables I'll tell every awkward detail of that debacle."

She studied him as he lead her, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder, chattering away like he always did. When she'd met him again in Oxenfurt, on the run from Nilfgaard, she had thought he had changed. He hadn't, not really. The one who had changed was her.

He was vain and foppish but beneath it all he cared, he always had. But she wasn't who she had been the last time they spoke, back on the dragon hunt. She felt unmoored, adrift. She had lost her powers and regained them, and in the process come face to face with herself and what she was and wasn't willing to do to get what she wanted. She wasn't sure she liked the answer, but now that she had it perhaps she could change. The question was, who did she want to be now?

"Ooooh ohhoh. I know that look," Jaskier interrupted her thoughts. "You're thinking."

"Well not all of us are utterly thoughtless."

"Weak, sorceress. Very weak, you're in worse state than I thought. Whatever it is you're hatching I assure you it can wait."

"But for how long?" she teased.

"Until you've eaten at the very least. Then you can conquer Redania or whatever it is you're plotting."

Yeah, food sounded good and a bath even better. Then maybe some sleep. Everything else could indeed wait until later.

#yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #yennskier #kinda #willow writing #may rewrite and expand it at some point #but this is what i have for now