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#it has been on repeat all day as it should!
bbyseok · 1 day
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genshin dragon men : calling him handsome
♡ pairing: zhongli, neuvillette x gn!reader
♡ a/n: this was originally supposed to also have wriothesley, dan heng, blade, and jing yuan, but i ran out of ideas. if you’d like to see something for them, please lemme know lol
———
zhongli — flattery, you swallow me.
the former archon is rather composed in nearly every waking moment you’ve seen him. he carries himself with an aura of calm confidence, whether he’s dealing with business on behalf of the wangsheng funeral parlor or spending his time leisurely alongside you.
he has a way with words; speaking oh so eloquently on a variety of topics.. from today’s weather to the latest tale of liyue’s history he’s been wanting to spew.
zhongli doesn’t get flustered often, if not at all. which makes sense for a man like him. having had many experiences in his six thousand years of life, it’s not really surprising.
but let’s just say that you’re feeling rather.. determined to see what blushing looks like on the funeral consultant. his stoic expressions do nothing to deter the handsomeness of his facial features, but you’re sure you can make him even prettier.
it’s like any other day in liyue harbor: bustling streets full of commerce, clear skies overhead, and calm waves from the sea.
zhongli had proposed to you earlier in the week that you spend a day with him. “i enjoy your company,” he had said without batting an eye and knowing that those words easily had your heart racing, “even if we are simply doing nothing at all.”
you have yet to see him so far, waiting beside a food stall and trying to catch sight of his presence amongst the crowd. you shift on your legs, moving to lean on the stall and crossing your arms. ah, there he is.
dressed in his usual attire of brown, gold, and black, he catches your eye quite easily and begins to approach you. his strides are long and he’s quick to almost reach the spot where you’re standing.
and here’s your chance!
before he can speak and greet you, you take a deep breath, flash up your own smile, and say right as he closes the distance in the most suave voice you can muster, “hi, handsome.”
you’re expecting a reaction of surprise from him, of course. he’s no stranger to compliments, but he’s not used to them as brazen and blunt as this—especially from you.
but you still certainly don’t him to stumble and nearly fall at your feet. zhongli’s footing stutters ever so slightly and he has to regain it as he stands in front of you, clearing his throat with eyes that seem to widen for only a couple of heartbeats.
and you were right: he looks even prettier with the faint pink dusting over his cheeks. it’s barely visible, but it’s there. and it’s there because of you.
frankly, he feels like a silly fool, fumbling like that. even though his current status is one of a mortal, he had stood boldfaced during countless events in the middle of wrath and destruction, and these mere words from you has him acting like some- some teenager!
zhongli clears his throat again, trying to confirm that he hadn’t misheard you. “pardon?” he coughs, amber eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of mirth.
your smile is the same as before, tugging at the corner of your lips subtly. “hi, handsome,” you repeat cheekily, speaking as if you just hadn’t witnessed him trip oh so elegantly. you straighten your form so you’re no longer leaning on the stall. “was wondering what was taking you so long.”
his eyes are watching you closely, and he seems to have regained his usual composure, even with the blush still lingering on his cheeks. “ah, i apologize,” he muses, “i failed to realize the time.”
and then, it’s his turn to flatter you. because the feeling is mutual, is it not? your boldness should be repaid. after all, flattery is an exchange that goes both ways.
zhongli grasps your hand within his gloved one, lifting it up to brush his soft lips over your knuckles with delicacy that makes your heart skip a beat.
“a beauty such as you should not have to wait.”
———
neuvillette — oh, how the water stirs.
the chief justice of fontaine is a man of an honorable reputation. your hear nothing but good—and sometimes mysterious—things from the people of the nation.
being an assistant of the iudex, however, does allow you to see other sides to him. while he is strict and stern, almost immovable, in the court, he is also kind and tender to those he seemed fit to receive such treatment from him. (the melusines are a prime example.)
whatever he seems to be doing though.. he nearly always wears almost an emotionless expression on his alluring features.
now, there are many words that you can use to describe neuvillette’s appearance with: ethereal, striking, breathtaking even. but the last thing you want is to overwhelm him and embarrass yourself.
so you’ll start small, you decide. a short and honest compliment because the iudex’s assistant is allowed to compliment him sometimes, right?
today’s routine is quite normal so far—you help sedene and any of the other melusines that have tasks around the palais memoria before preparing to greet neuvillette and help him out with his papers and any other duties.
you can tell he has arrived when everyone takes a look and hushes down; the entrance hall of the palais memoria is usually quiet in ambience but even more so with the chief justice now present.
“good morning, monsieur neuvillette,” you greet him as well as he approaches, and he gives you a polite smile in return, cane stamping on the floor gently.
he says your name softly and shakes his head. “ah, i’ve already told you before. you can simply call me neuvillette— i insist.”
you chuckle in response and nod. first name basis with who is essentially one of the most powerful beings of the nation is nothing short of nervewracking. you don’t let it get to you though, gesturing to the door. “ah, right. sorry. shall we head into your office?”
neuvillette nods and walks. you move to follow him, but there’s a sudden tugging on your clothing and you look to see sedene behind you.
the melusine giggles, perhaps in a knowing way. “monsieur neuvillette seems to be quite fond of you, if i must say!” she says in a hushed voice.
you flush, waving her statement off. “oh, sedene!” despite feeling slightly embarrassed, you’re flustered as well. eventually, you head into neuvillette’s office, hoping he doesn’t notice anything amiss.
you settle into routine easily; briefing him up on any upcoming trials and cases, smaller notifications from the people of fontaine, and of course—situating his seemingly endless stacks of paperwork.
after a while, neuvillette now seated at his desk, he emits a soft sigh and bids you thanks. “thank you. that’ll be all for now.” his ever glistening gaze rests on you. “i do wish you a pleasant rest of your day.”
okay, you can do it. it’ll be fine. just tell him he looks good and leave! why does it seem like his eyes are boring straight into you? they’re unreadable as ever, leaving you to simply wonder what will go through his head when you say what you want to say.
nonetheless, you take a quick, deep breath and go for it. “you look handsome today, neuvillette,” you tell him, a sincere smile tugging at your lips.
he doesn’t say anything, and the brief silence that hangs in the air is nearly startling as he simply continues to stare. you clear your throat quickly and look away. “well, you look handsome every day, but i just wanted to let you know now and well-”
you’re rambling, great. “um, i’ll be taking my leave now, monsieur!” you awkwardly dismiss yourself and hurry out of his office, missing at how the tips of his ear subtly burn with a different shade of color.
you don’t even bother glancing at a curious sedene as you usher your way out of the bulding. oh, archons! how are you going to face him now?
unbeknownst to you, all that is left is the hydro dragon in deep contemplation, papers still completely untouched since your departure.
it is only when sedene enters the room with her clipboard does he stir, and he blinks at her appearance. his brows furrow, still deep in pondering.
“monsieur neuvillette, is everything alright?”
there’s a pause. for a rare moment, the chief justice allows himself to be hesitant and genuinely curious aloud.
“sedene.. am i… handsome?”
(it’s safe to say that for the rest of the day, fontaine has nothing but a sunny sky.)
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starlightrosa · 3 days
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Spa Days in Hell
And here it is, everyone! The meaty fic I warned everyone about! (I lost the ask, but this was anon request anyway <3)
Summary: Lucifer's wings need cleaning after he spent so long neglecting them. Charlie has to do it herself, despite knowing how sensitive he is there. Seems like Lucifer's in for one ticklish as hell spa day.
Word Count: 3k words... goddamn lmao.
Warnings: kinda intense tickles in some parts, Lucifer has six wings, swearing too, Angel Dust and his unique humour. Still SFW though :)
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Lucifer nervously straightened his top hat and fiddled with his cane as he tried to look presentable in his room, in his castle on the edge of the Pride Ring. He was on the way to see his darling daughter Charlie, after so long of not seeing her or the new venture she had set up. To the king’s knowledge, it was supposed to be some kind of hotel to redeem wayward Sinners and send them to Heaven.
Lucifer knew what Heaven was really like. It was nice that Charlie was a dreamer, just like he used to be, but he just didn’t want to see his daughter get her dreams crushed by the angels above, much like they had crushed his dreams for humanity long ago.
“Okay, Lucifer. You got this. You’re seeing your daughter and what she’s been up to. Don’t fuck it up, Luci. Don’t fuck this up.” he repeated, his shoulders rolling back as he checked his wings. On any of the lucky days when he actually gave a shit, Lucifer would have refused to leave the house if his wings were anything less than pristine. But today, he just didn’t care how they looked.
Lucifer had his good days, and his bad days. Since landing in Hell, the bad days outweighed the good sometimes. Being cast out of Heaven and into Hell had sent Lucifer into a depression for a good while. While the sadness gnawed at his mind every day, he had gotten better at hiding it. But his wings had suffered as a result. Some feathers were broken, some were tangled, others were sharper than they should be and dug into the king’s back. To think some angels had only two to clean and take care of. But Lucifer had six fluffy appendages, all of them not being taken care of for perhaps longer than they should have been.
Well, he didn’t have time anyway. He just wouldn’t show anyone the wings. He couldn’t care less about his wings right now. Lucifer steeled himself and put on that confident smirk of his, as he grabbed his cane and took a deep breath, teleporting to the hotel address Charlie had given him.
The world shifted under his feet as Lucifer’s boots made contact with the streets of Pride. Overlooking Pentagram City was Charlie’s hotel. The “Hazbin” Hotel. Huh. What a weird name. Charlie was normally much better about naming stuff.
Well, Lucifer kept that thought to himself as he crossed over and knocked thrice on the door with his cane. Knock, knock, knock!
The door opened at once. Lucifer brought his cane down, resting both of his hands upon the top of the cane.
“Dad?” Charlie asked, looking a bit confused at his early arrival. Lucifer suspected she was expecting him to come a lot later. Oh no. For his daughter, he was determined to make up for all the stuff he had missed. Even if that meant arriving absurdly early before an agreed time.
“Ahh, there she is! There’s my Char-Char! How have you been doing? Good? Good, me too!” Lucifer cheered, giving Charlie a big kiss on the cheek, as he stepped into the hotel. It was… less than presentable, to put it nicely.
Lucifer felt that sharp pain in his back again, and he winced a little as he walked around.
“Are you alright, Dad?” Charlie asked, noticing her father’s movement. Lucifer looked back at his daughter, before he forced himself to smile, acting like his wings weren’t in utter agony from being neglected for so long.
“Oh, I’m fine, Charlie. Anyway, so how’s the business venture? Anyone important I need to meet? Got to make sure my daughter is being treated right by her patrons. Kindness and love and all that stuff.”
“Oh yeah. This way, Dad!” Charlie said, taking him off to see the others. “So the first one I want you to meet is Vaggie, my girlfriend. Vaggie, this is my father, Lucifer.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” Vaggie smiled, though Lucifer noticed the ‘X’ over her eye and indeed the angelic spear. If his wings were out right now, they would have puffed up to sense danger. Vaggie was an angel? A former Exorcist, no less. And they were dating? An Exorcist, COURTING his daughter?! The very idea felt absurd. But Lucifer smiled.
“Oh, you like girls! Why, I like them too! Glad to see we have so much in common! Put ‘er there, Maggie!” Lucifer smiled, not seeming to notice that he had gotten her name wrong as he swept Vaggie into a hug. His hidden wings twinged again, a painful reminder to Lucifer that he had to take care of them at some point. He grimaced, but buried his face into Vaggie’s shoulder.
Vaggie chuckled as she awkwardly patted Lucifer on the back before the king disengaged from the hug. Lucifer cleared his throat, and hummed.
“Who else?”
“Oh! So we have Husk, the bartender.” Charlie then said. Husk just grumbled a little, as was true to his character.
“Hello, your Royal Majesty.” Husk muttered, before drinking from a bottle of whiskey.
“The smiling demon over there is Alastor, who’s my business partner.” Charlie next said. Alastor had that trademark smile, but his eyes told a different story. He didn’t like the look of a being more powerful than him, sharing a room together.
“Good to put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life. I would call you by your royal name, but ‘Your Highness’ seems woefully ironic, I’m sure you’ll agree. Your height just doesn’t justify such a regal way of recognition.” Alastor stated.
“Don’t go any further. Don’t want to say something that you’ll regret, Bambi.” Lucifer shot back, smiling smugly when Alastor’s deer ears flattened briefly, a soft growl leaving his eternally grinning mouth.
“Bambi? BAMBI? Why, you little-!” Alastor growled, his pupils briefly flickering into radio dials, before Charlie grabbed his arm.
“Calm down, Alastor. Dad, please don’t disrespect my business partner like that.” Charlie cut in, her eyes narrowing the slightest amount. Lucifer felt a little guilty, but he scoffed and continued on as Charlie continued the introductions.
“The spider demon is Angel Dust, a famous… actor.” Charlie said. “And the smaller woman running around is Niffty, our maid.”
Niffty waved playfully at Lucifer. “Hello, your Majesty!” she chirped, before seeing a bug scuttle past. The maid got a rather hungry look in her eye as she giggled manically, racing after the bug.
“Angel, come say hi to my father.”
“Your father, eh? Well, well. Hello, Daddy Morningstar~” Angel cooed, before flopping down on one of the lobby chairs and scrolling on his phone, flicking his white and pink hair. Lucifer coughed awkwardly.
“Okay… a charming character.” Lucifer murmured, before his wings twinged yet again, but the pain was sharp enough to make Lucifer turn away from Angel, and bite the back of his hand to stifle the pain. Charlie noticed her father’s pained expression.
“Dad? Are you okay?” Charlie asked, placing a hand upon her father’s back. Lucifer straightened up the best he could.
“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, little apple. I’m okay.”
Charlie didn’t believe a single word that ran from her father’s mouth. She didn’t use her wings very much, but as a young girl, she had seen Lilith tending to Lucifer’s wings before. He only reacted this way if his wings needed care. Come to think of it, when had they last done that? When Lilith disappeared, Charlie had to step up and take care of Lucifer’s wings when he asked. She was more than happy to, but it had been a while.
“Dad, did you clean your wings up before you came out?” Charlie asked quietly, not wanting to embarrass her father in front of her patrons. Lucifer cleared his throat awkwardly again.
“Oh yes, Char-Char.” Lucifer lied. But the light eyebrow raise from Charlie indicated that she didn’t believe him.
“Dad, don’t lie to me.” Charlie stated. Vaggie looked worried. As a former angel, she knew that their wings being neglected would only serve to hurt.
“Your Majesty, would you like me to take care of your wings? I’ll be quick.” Vaggie offered.
“NO! I-I mean, um… no. Thank you, though.” Lucifer stammered, backing away from Vaggie. Charlie followed him, Alastor by her side while the others remained in the lobby.
“Dad, I insist you let me help. I can’t have you in pain and-” Charlie attempted to reason. But she was cut off as Lucifer’s fight or flight response triggered. Lucifer ran as fast as he could and up the steps to the second floor of the hotel.
But Charlie wasn’t about to accept that. “Alastor, help me catch him!”
“With pleasure, Princess.” Alastor shot back, grinning as the two gave chase.
Lucifer ran, hearing the footsteps of Charlie and Alastor not too far behind. Lucifer was a nervous giggler, and sure enough, bubbly giggles slipped past his lips as he ran away from his daughter and her business partner. He needed a place to hide.
But that thought was cut off as Alastor’s tentacles wrapped around him and pulled him back to where Charlie was. Lucifer attempted to break out of the grip, but there was no give as Alastor pulled Lucifer back to where he and Charlie stood.
“Your Royal Highness, it’s most rude to run away, you know. Rather cowardly, too.” Alastor mused.
“Now that is the pot calling the kettle black. Haven’t you been gone for like seven years, Bambi?” Lucifer snarked back, but while he was busy sassing, Charlie grabbed her father’s shoulders and rolled them back. Lucifer gasped sharply as his wings popped out, letting his daughter and Alastor see the damage.
“Oh my God… Dad, how long have you left these?” Charlie murmured.
“Quite a while, it seems.” Alastor mused.
“Charlie… don’t.” Lucifer pleaded. But Charlie shook her head.
“Dad, I have to help you. Please?”
“I-It hurts, little apple. But you’re so busy already. I can… I can do it myself.” Lucifer said.
“Clearly, you can’t.” Alastor interrupted, but he silenced himself when Charlie shot Alastor quite the angry look.
“Not helping, Alastor. Dad, please let me help you.” Charlie implored.
Lucifer really wanted to say no. But his wings were hurting so much. He had no choice, so begrudgingly, he agreed. Charlie grabbed her father’s hand and guided him to the lobby, pushing Lucifer to lie down on the sofa and helping him roll his shoulders back to get at his wings, as the patrons of the hotel watched this take place.
Charlie plunged her hands into Lucifer’s wings and began plucking the broken feathers. Lucifer sighed as she worked, allowing himself to relax a smidge. But then he began feeling it. As Charlie’s hands ghosted over his wings, the fluffy appendages began to tingle in a way that could only be… ticklish.
Lucifer pushed his head into his arms immediately, refusing to even look at anyone. And then Charlie’s hands ghosted into his shoulder blades and he gasped, tensing up even more as the tiniest giggle worked past his lips.
“Dad?” Charlie asked. “Are you-?” she began to say, only for a deep chuckle from Angel. He fluffed his hair back and smirked.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Seems the King of Hell is ticklish~!” Angel teased, smirking widely at Lucifer, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Well, he was not getting out of this one.
“For once, Angel seems to say something that makes sense.” Alastor mused.
“I heard that!” Angel called, looking a bit put out.
“You were meant to, my dear.” Alastor fired back. Now Vaggie chuckled, as she slowly approached Charlie, who still had her hands in Lucifer’s neglected wings.
“I agree with Angel, and Alastor. Charlie, you can do the actual wing care. I’ll hold him, and everyone else can enjoy this kinda show. Sound fun, hon?” she asked, leaving no room for discussion as she sat on the sofa and got a good hold on Lucifer. No amount of wriggling could push the former Exorcist off of the King.
“A-All of you shut uhuhup!” Lucifer suddenly piped up, muffled giggles sinking into the plush red cushions of the sofa which he laid upon. Alastor chuckled, twirling his microphone.
“You know, everyone. I believe the King needs to get his temperament in check. Quite unbecoming for a ruler. Angel, get his sides, I’ll get his hips.”
“You got it, Smiles~” Angel cooed, before he grabbed Lucifer’s sides and squeezed rapidly. Lucifer was thrown into snorting giggles immediately as he kicked his legs behind him, laying on his front still. Charlie had clearly gotten stronger then he remembered, and Vaggie had him in a tight grip too. Double whammy.
“AAH! A-AHAHAHANGEL!” Lucifer cried out, squirming. He was then thrown into cackles as Alastor joined the fray, compressing Lucifer’s tender hipbones. “STOP THAHAHAT AT ONCE!” Lucifer tried demanding.
“Sorry, your Ticklishness~ oh, oops. I meant to say, Your Majesty.” Angel chuckled, pulling his hands away at once for a bit. Despite the playful mood, Lucifer was still the King, and he could probably snap his fingers and kill Angel in a damn heartbeat.
“Who knew the King of Hell was ticklish?” Vaggie chuckled, a soft smile on her face as she joined in the barrage of teasing, tickling under Lucifer’s chin lightly. Charlie grinned, her hands still buried in Lucifer’s wings as she took care of each one. Admittedly, slower than she would normally have done them, but it had been a good while since she had seen her father happy.
“CHAHAHAHARLIE!” Lucifer yelped, wiggling like a worm on the cushions, his wings flapping from her precise (and very fucking ticklish) touches. Most in the lobby were lost in laughter, whether that was Lucifer’s tickle-induced giggles, or everyone else giggling along with Lucifer.
“I forgot how ticklish you were, Dad.” Charlie laughed. Alastor chuckled and approached now.
“Now, now. Your Royal Ticklish Majesty, don’t be hiding your face. Let us see the laughter worthy of his Highness~” Alastor coaxed, using his voodoo tentacles to tickle Lucifer under the arms. A loud snort from the king immediately and his hands fell away from his face.
“HAHAHAHA! B-BEHEHEHELLHOP, CEASE THIHIHIS!” Lucifer squealed.
“Budge over, Smiles. I wanna see if I can make his wings flap~” Angel drawled, the spider demon moving. Alastor graciously fell back and allowed Angel access immediately. The gloves were off, quite literally, as Angel peeled off his gloves and shoved them into the king’s wings, and Lucifer was thrown into cackles as he felt Angel’s spider fuzz right on his newly groomed top set of wings, while Charlie was working at the middle set now.
“T-TOO TIHIHICKLY, CHARLIE!” Lucifer shrieked, squirming for all he was worth. Charlie chuckled and allowed her father a quick break.
“I know, Dad. But you left your wings so long. I have to set everything back in order.” Charlie reasoned as she finished the middle set. Lucifer groaned through his giggles as he settled his very red face on the top of his arms.
“Alright, Dad. Just the lowermost set to do now. But I know you’re wiggly with those ones. Alastor, do me a favour and hold his wings still.” Charlie said. Alastor chuckled lowly, the lowest radio feedback noise coming from him.
“Of course, Princess.” Alastor said, placing his microphone safely out of the way as he reached forward and snagged Lucifer’s wings, stretching out the lowermost set to allow Charlie to get at them. Vaggie adjusted her hold on Lucifer too, as Charlie dived in.
“AAH! SHIHIHIHIT!!!” Lucifer screeched, falling into hysterical laughter as he tried twisting as much as he could, his body trying to escape from the tickles, but ultimately getting nowhere due to both Vaggie and Alastor’s grips on him, and Charlie sitting upon his legs wasn’t helping either.
“Tickle tickle, Your Highness~” Vaggie teased, snickering. He sounded less terrifying when she saw him like this. Who knew her girlfriend’s father could be so… strangely adorable?
“SHUHUHUT UP!” Lucifer barked, cackling louder as Charlie gasped above him.
“Hey! Don’t you talk to my girlfriend like that, Dad!” she responded, vibrating her fingers into Lucifer’s wings to be mean for a little. Lucifer wheezed loudly, falling into near-silent, open mouthed cackles.
“I’M SOHOHOHORRY! I’M SOHO SOHOHORRY!” Lucifer shrieked. “EHEHEHENOUGH, LIHITTLE AHAHAPPLE! ENOUGH, PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN’T!”
The wing tickles ceased as a gentler hand replaced the ticklish touches, working quickly enough for Lucifer to not register the tickling. His wings were buzzing with sensitivity and the leftover giggles from Lucifer littered the room.
“So damn cute.” Angel murmured, smirking lightly. Alastor gave a silent nod, in agreement to Angel as Charlie finally finished cleaning up her father’s wings after about what had to be a total of ten minutes and climbed off of him. But to Lucifer, it felt like hours as he was finally allowed to close his wings. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, feeling tears within them.
“T-That was so bad…” Lucifer murmured, shivering from ticklishness briefly. His wings were finally taken care of, and they had regained their glossy sheen on every set.
“Dad, please take care of your wings next time.” Charlie smiled, grinning at her father’s ticklish grin. He definitely looked like he had been tickled silly.
“I’d hate to see this happen again to you, Your Ticklishness~” Alastor said, in a tone that Lucifer could tell that Alastor wanted this to happen again very much.
“Once I get my strehehength back, ahall of you are goddamned dehehead.” Lucifer responded, even as he ascended to a spare room in the hotel. “You will be first, Bambi.” Lucifer muttered, as he all but fell into bed.
As sleep took him away to dreamland, Lucifer’s grin never melted off of his face as his wings fluttered softly in his slumber. Deserved after all that very mean tickling, and even in his dreams, Lucifer couldn’t recall the last time he had smiled so freely. Maybe he could tangle his wings on purpose next time, after he was done exacting some sweet revenge. And the bellhop would be first.
The End!
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clubdionysus · 2 days
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[BAD DECISION #17] Jeon Jungkook
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warnings: WELL WELL WELL. mentions of the red witch. post-gym kook. questionable conversations that shouldn't happen between friends, totally normal touching of genitals to prove points in aforementioned conversations, kitchen escapades, whiny koo <3 titty worship, spanking, titty sucking, fingering, a lil mutual masturbation, cockwarming (or at least an attempt!), unprotected sex, jk on top, the starluvrs are bad at maths!, multiple positions (prone bone my beloved <3), he finishes on her back, lovely stuff!! just friendly tho!
a/n: the header image is another lost relic, but this time i can't even remember the base photo </3
soundtrack: just a little bit - enhypen
wc: 11.2k
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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The soft cotton duvet cover on Jeongguk's bed welcomes you back far more warmly than it really should do; like a 'hi, honey, welcome home' , or an 'I've missed you'.  
It's fitting that the inanimate objects of his room carry such benevolence, when he himself is an open log fire on a winter's night. Warm, warm, warm is Jeon Jeongguk, and you've been cold, cold, cold for so long that the sudden heat is almost jarring.
That's how you justify the obscure feeling in the pit of your stomach when Jeongguk starts talking about blind dates, and how he always wanted to go on one when he was younger.
He reckons that the only reason that he hadn't was because he's 'a simple man of simple pleasures'.  
The hoops he needed to jump through to get a blind date - quite simply just asking someone to set it up for him - had been too challenging. You've alleviated that stress for him.
"See," you smile, folding his bird back up and tossing it over to him. You're both on his bed, staring up at the flock of birds still soaring above you, just out of reach. "We're fulfilling a childhood dream. You are getting something out of this whole deal."
You don't look at him, but you know he rolls his eyes and smiles when he does so. "Never said I wasn't, Disco Ball."
He's met with silence as you glance over at him. It's not an unwelcome nickname, but it's one he doesn't use too often these days. Always calls you Byeol.
"What?" he asks and he turns to face you when you don't reply, but you say nothing.
The more you let it simmer, the worse it gets. He's not called you Disco Ball in so long. Part of you thinks he's reducing your friendship. Addressing you like he did when he didn't know you too well. Creating distance. Forming space on a featherdown quilt that draws you both in like quicksand. He'll have to try harder if a wider margin is what he's after.
It's stupid, 'cause you know the name comes from a place of affection, but it makes you feel insecure.
"We'll still be friends, right?" You ask a little quietly. Jeongguk's brows grow taut, a slight frown forming on his features. Doesn't understand where such a question has come from. "If you get a girlfriend, I mean? We can still be friends?"
Jeongguk's skin is hot. Prickly. An automatic response to discomfort - but then his lips soften into a kind smile. Despite the offence that could be taken from you asking such a question - thinking so little of him - he's not naive to the way in which you work. He understands. People you've loved have left when things got inconvenient for them. He's been through it, too.
And so the walls that want to come up in defence are kept at bay. He doesn't let them rise. Instead, he meets you at the shores.
"Yoongi invited you to dinner," he nudges your shoulder. "Tae is practically in love with you for all the help you've given him. Dionysus relies on you drinking the bar dry every other weekend to keep it afloat. We couldn't stop being friends even if we tried."
His answer should satisfy you, yet your mind is marred by the same thought repeating over and over: Hayun probably used to get invited to dinner, too.
You aren't naive. You know his friends are just as kind as he is. They'd have welcomed anyone Jeongguk deemed important into their social circle.
"What about Hayun?"
Jeongguk frowns. "What about her?"
"Well," you say slowly, looking back up towards the birds, not wanting to watch his reaction unfold on his features like a letter of commiseration.
Before you can even articulate a reply, Jeongguk stops you.
"Don't. It's not the same. Hayun... That situation was different. Things were different. Plus, she's still my friend. Our friend. All of us. She just lives in a different city, that's all. The only reason she isn't around is because of proximity. We're still friends. Just like you and me are still gonna be friends. We've no reason not to be."
The situation is different. You're well aware of this. You've known Jeongguk for all of five minutes; she was a much more permanent fixture in his life. They had a history that you wouldn't even be able to comprehend; private jokes, and stolen moments when they thought their friends wouldn't notice. Their friends. Not just Jeongguk's.
She'd been as much a part of the friendship group as Jeongguk had been; the only difference was that she'd moved away. If she hadn't, would there even be space for you in their lives? Would Seoyeon be desperate for there to be another girl around? Would Jeongguk have felt just as fondly towards you? Would he have noticed your disco ball eyes in the dark of Dionysus or would he have been too busy searching for her in a crowded room?
Or would the time spent on you be spent on her instead?
The thought is unpleasant. It weaves its way through your bloodstream like a needle with dark red string threaded through its loop. It scratches and stabs at your insides until it breaks through the flesh of your bottom lip. Sews your mouth shut. Stops you from talking; from screaming how unfair you think it is that you're being equated to someone who destroyed him.
You don't think she deserves to be thought fondly of, but if Jeongguk knew that, you'd be the one he thinks negatively of. He leapt to her defence without you even starting an attack.
"Friends don't hurt their friends," you say quietly.
Life doesn't work that way. People hurt the ones they care about all the time - or at least you use that reasoning to comfort yourself whenever Seokjin shows up just to let you down.
"She didn't mean to," he replies. "I'm the one who caught feelings. I'm the one who misread things. She stayed the same. My hurt? It's on me, Byeol."
There's a sincerity to his voice that absolves her of blame; makes her innocent in whatever transpired between the pair of them. You know that you only have Jeongguk's side of the story, and even that is sparse and limited due to his reluctance to talk about it in any great depth, but you feel like you don't need to hear her side. He got hurt. That's enough. Your mind is made up.
Hearing him defend her so freely unnerves you. The feeling crawls beneath your skin and gnaws at your flesh. Reduces you to skin and bone.
You're silent, because you know that anything you do say will come across as mean, or as if you dislike a girl you've never met. It'd only make Jeongguk defend her more and like you less. You don't want that - as if Jeongguk wouldn't rip Seokjin to shreds at any given opportunity.
Trouble is, you can't blame him. Jeongguk has seen the impact first-hand. Wiped away tears caused by the man himself.
Hayun is just an enigma; a name rarely said, but often felt.
"What's gotten into you?" Jeongguk smiles, trying to downplay the heaviness of the atmosphere that's engulfing you both. "You're forgetting how annoying I am. You'd probably be thankful if we stopped being friends."
Though he's just teasing, you're worried that he does think that of himself. You don't want to be soppy though, so instead, you use one of his most often said phrases against him.
"I think if we stopped being friends I would simply die."
It earns a laugh. He nudges your shoulder. Tells you that you really gotta stop stealing his catchphrases and the things he does.
"Oh fuck off," you laugh. "What else have I stolen?"
A whole host of things.
"The mirror thing," is all he says, noticing your confusion immediately. He reaches over and tenderly clasps your chin. Doesn't notice the tiny gasp that gets caught in your throat - or if he does, he doesn't mention it. Turns your head, so that you're looking at him, and says " 'watch'. "
You close your eyes and smile. Nod. "Ah. That. The mirror thing. "
"See," he smirks, not that you can see. Your eyes are still closed and they'll remain that way until you decide you're no longer embarrassed. "Told you that you copy me."
"I don't copy," you smirk right back, despite your firmly shut eyes. Jeongguk likes the glitter you're wearing today. It's golden-hued. "Just a fast learner."
"Oh yeah?" he says, a laugh catching in his throat. "Watcha learnt about me?"
You whisper now, a little smug. "That you really like mirrors."
"Yeah," he concedes far more quickly than you expected him to. He turns his focus back to the birds on his ceiling, though you think he's gotten a little closer to you. "Yeah, you're right about that - but you know why I like them?"
"Pray tell," you grin, vaguely aware of the fact the conversation feels far more flirty than it really should.
"You do this thing," Jeongguk says, as a hand rests by his crotch. He's not hard, but he is a little firmer than he should be.
It's just cause he's thinking about sex. Thinking about the sound of it. The sound of you . The sight of it. Of you . The scent of it. You . Not the taste, 'cause you've not given him the luxury of that yet. He doesn't really register the fact he's pressing down on himself. Gripping. Feeling .
"It's that first look," he continues, voice dulcet. "It's like you can't register what you're seeing. Your eyes go all wide, and you look at me as if you're too nervous to look anywhere else. Dunno. Lets me know how much you like what I do. Bit of a power trip, I guess. Always gets me."
"Gets you what?"
"Hard."
The declaration is so brash that you can't help but giggle. "You hard now?"
"Thinking about it isn't the same as seeing it," Jeongguk admits, turning his head towards you - but your eyes are still closed, a smile plastered all over your face. He finds himself smiling, too. 
"But I mean..." He toys with your hand. Draws it to the top of his thighs. Gives you the chance to pull away. You don't. "Feel for yourself."
You whisper his name. 
He whispers right back. "What?"
"You know what," you tell him, as if your palm isn't right where he left it, and as if your grip isn't as firm as his cock. 
"What?" he teases again, feigning indifference - and then he fucking tenses. Moves his hips. Pushes up into your palm. "It's just anatomy, B. Nothing new."
Maybe not, but that nickname? That feels new. Feels like the opposite of him calling you disco ball earlier. Makes your breath hitch. Has him smirking as he looks at your lips. Bites down on his own. Knows this is trouble, but thinks he'd quite like to get in some.
See, you're the determined type. Once you set your mind to things, you do them. He's witnessed it first-hand multiple times. The second he mentioned the art cafe to Tae, he knew you'd make it happen. It's what you do.
And so he knows that you're setting him up that blind date whether he likes it or not. He knows you're gonna choose well for him. He knows, come this time next week, there'll probably be a moral complex that comes with the birds hanging above the pair of you.
But he's not ready for that. Not yet. 
There's so much to do. 
So many birds that haven't been set free.
A pleasant little hum vibrates in his throat as you palm the firmness beneath his sweats. His hips pulse. You daren't open your eyes - especially not as your thumb brushes against the waistband of his trousers. He hums again. Pushes his shoulders down into his mattress. Adjusts his body. Edges closer to you. Says nothing as your thumb sinks beneath the elastic of his sweats.
It doesn't go anywhere. You wait. His hips pulse.
"Swear you get off on torture," he purrs. 
"You're the one who started this," you murmur, trying to feign indifference, knowing full well that if he mirrors your hand position, he'll feel just how easily he gets you all riled up. "You're a sadist."
He just smiles. Tells you he's no such thing. 
And so you tell him to keep his eyes closed. Reach for his hand. Say, "Let's compare."
"Compare?" He husks, as if he doesn't know what you're doing. 
"Mhmm," you hum, bringing his hand dangerously close to your pussy. "Compare. You're getting off on torture. Maybe I am, too."
"We shouldn't be doing this," Jeongguk says, and yet as you loosen your grip, he's the one who lets his hand trail up your thigh. He's the one who strokes at the fabric of your sweats. He's the one who cups your pussy with his hand.
The top you're wearing has risen up a little, a small sliver of your stomach exposed - and then his thumb is caressing against it. 
His touch is warm, but the little gasp he does? The stutter of his breath? Oh, it's hot . So fucking hot.
"We're not doing anything," you say so sweetly that he'd believe it - or at least he would if it wasn't his own damn hand slipping into trousers. A breath hitches in your throat, and you can hear the ethereal way a laugh stutters in his throat.
"Just friendly, yeah?"
You nod. Whimper a pathetic confirmation - and then he's pressing against your underwear. Is slow as he rubs a single circular motion against you. 
"The birds are judging us," he tells you. 
"Nah," you shake your head. Take a shallow breath as he circles against you once more. "This is just revision."
"Revision?"
"Making sure we've learned from them. As long as - fuck ."
"You good there?" he teases, as if he didn't just up the speed for a moment. 
You ignore his question and continue the point that was so rudely interrupted by his pacing. "As long as we only do things the birds have already told us to do, then I think it's okay."
The pair of you are silent save for your tepid breaths. Jeongguk's fingers caress against the lace of your underwear while you palm at his excruciatingly hard cock. 
It's all rather juvenile, the way you're just touching each other up - and yet it's got your heartbeat racing. Perhaps it's because it's something so simple. Feels like there's so much more that could come of it. The great unknown: will you make Jeongguk cum? Or will you just blue ball him instead?
He really fucking hopes you'll choose the first option.
"Y'know," he says quietly. "I kinda need a shower."
It's not a lie. He freshened up at the gym, but didn't have a proper shower - didn't think he'd be taking such a long detour home.
"You wanna go shower?"
He nods. "Please."
It's laughable, really, the way neither of you says a word as he guides you to the bathroom. It's a regular occurrence at this point. 
You glance across the open-plan living room as you make your way to the bathroom, and smile at the painting hanging up beside the television. Jeongguk follows your gaze and smirks. 
"Think a future girlfriend would have an issue with that being up on the wall?"
"Maybe," you shrug. "You never have to tell her what is it, mind you. Never have to say it's... yanno."
"No I don't know, Byeol," he teases. Grips onto your shoulders to stop you from walking, and turns you to face it. Walks you both a little further into the sitting room area. Tilts his head, and you realise there's another bloody mirror in the corner of the room. You've never noticed it before. Wonder if he placed it there deliberately. "What is it?"
You narrow your eyes in the mirror. A smirk rests on his pretty lips and you can't help but bite down on yours when one of his hands creeps up your shirt. The bra you're wearing is lace; underwired but with unstructured cups. He squeezes. Fucking groans. "Shit."
"We shouldn't be doing this here," you tell him, well aware that Jimin could come home at any minute. Even going for a shower together is a risk. 
Jeongguk shrugs. "Doesn't matter."
"What if Jimin-"
"If he comes home, he comes home," Jeongguk cuts you off as he continues playing with you beneath your shirt. He wants it off. Takes it off. Faces no opposition from you. Both of his hands cup at your chest, the black lace sin beneath his hands. Your heartbeat heaves in your chest, and it's only made worse when Jeongguk nudges his nose against your hair and whispers, "maybe I'll just show him how to make you cum."
You tell him he's mean. He squeezes harder. Makes you whimper. Tells you he can be mean if you really want him to be.
But you shake your head. "Play nicely."
It's not that you don't like things a little rough and tumble - it's just that if this is the last time, you know it needs to be intimate. How else will you be able to face your fears with other people if you never even let him?
One of his hands trails to the back of your bra, and gently unsnaps the clasp, before ridding you of the lace. As much as he liked it, he likes you bare better. Likes the way your pillowy breasts frame your nipples perfectly. Likes that the soft flesh spills through the gaps in his fingers. Likes how easy it is to get you whimpering as he rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
"Nice enough?" He husks.
"Nice," you nod, eyes closed, crown of your head tipping back to rest against the top of his chest. "God, Gguk. Think I'm obsessed with the way your hands feel."
The compliment makes his heart fucking race .
He watches in the mirror. Studies the way your lips part as he toys with you. Wants to kiss you so badly. Knows he can't. Fuck . Maybe he does get off on a little torture, but this is just inhumane to him. You can feel how hard he is as he presses into the small of your back. The curse and blessing of sweatpants. 
You reach behind yourself to palm at his crotch, and are met with a nod of his head against yours. 
"Fuck, B," he whines as you toy with the outline of his cock. "I gotta - fuck - I gotta do something with my mouth. Wanna kiss you too fuckin' bad."
He doesn't even mean to admit it, but now that he has, he feels a little shameless. If he can admit that, he can admit anything. 
Maybe he'll tell you about the wet dream he had a few nights ago, and how he'd woken up to damp sheets and a ruined orgasm all because you'd made an unexpected appearance in his dream. 
Maybe he'll tell you about the fact he hasn't watched porn in weeks. Just thinks of you, instead.
Maybe he'll tell you about the fleshlight hidden in the back of his bedside cabinet drawer, and how he can't use it anymore, 'cause it doesn't look like you do.
Doesn't look like you, doesn't feel like you, doesn't smell like you. Doesn't get him cumming like you do. 
Actually, maybe he won't tell you about that last one - but he wants you to know. 
Wants you to understand just how fucking sexy he thinks you are. Wants you to acknowledge that if he can get this wrecked over you, then there must be hundreds of other men out there just the same as him. You don't need to linger for so long on your ex. 
There'll be another guy out there for you who doesn't make you feel like shit; who only ever wants to make you feel good. So good. So, so-
"Oh God, yeah," he whines as you finally slip your fingers beneath his waistband and into his trousers. His hips pulse, wanting more, more, more of you. "So fucking good."
"My lips," you husk as his fingers dig into your soft chest. The grip is tight. Needy. "They're off limits."
"Lips," he nods. Clenches his jaw as he tries to control his breathing. Swallows his nerves down. "And the rest of you?"
You open your eyes to find his already on you in the mirror. He's hungry. Wanting. Salivating. He looks fucking primal, as if he's fighting every instinct he has just to keep your boundaries respected. Makes you wanna break every single one of them down.
Turning your head ever so slightly, just so your nose can nudge against his, you realign your faces. His lips are pouty. Pink. Pretty. Perfectly out of reach. Yet when you nod, they brush against yours tenderly. You don't let it happen again. "Be specific."
God, his cock is too fucking hard to be playing games like this. He wants to curse you out. Wants to be fucking mean. Wants to tell you to stop being a little bitch and just let him have his way with you - but he promised he'd play nicely. 
"Every inch of your skin," he says, 'cause he is actually a little too nervous to ask so politely for what he really wants.
Has been wanting it for weeks.
It's something new, to him. Something he's only ever asked for once, and it was in the heat of the moment. A moment quite a lot like this.
You smile. You know what he really wants. "That's not specific."
"But it's the truth."
Jeongguk always gets a little like this when he's riled up. A little needy. Whiney. You'd be a liar if you said you didn't enjoy it, but you know that sometimes he misspeaks. Says things he never would do if he wasn't desperately after a release. 
You never think he's lying, but you do think what he wants in the heat of the moment isn't always what he wants with a clear mind. This is one of those moments.
You purr, a little satisfied with how easy it is to get him like this. Feels like you're in control - so Jeongguk rolls your nipples between his fingers again to get you moaning. Realigns a sense of power. It's endless with the pair of you; a back-and-forth of control. It works well. Too well.
But he's feeling brazen, now. Feeling bold. Isn't nervous to tell you what he wants anymore, because the way your body reacts to his touch lets him know that you'll like it.
"Your tits, Byeol," he says. Your eyes fall to his in the mirror. He's looking directly at you. Notices the way your chest begins to heave a little heavier. Smirks. "If this is my last chance to..." he pauses. Is almost ashamed of what he wants.
"Last chance to what?" You flirt.
You bitch. You're teasing him just because you can. It makes him throb. The motion of your hand stroking above his underwear is making his cock all fat and leaky. There's a damp patch on the front of his briefs. He's ready to fuck. Wants to fuck.
But before that? Before he can even consider sinking himself into you? 
He (regretfully) pulls one of his hands away from you, bringing it to meet your hand in his trousers. He (even more regretfully) pulls you away. You pout. He smiles. 
"C'mon," he says, pulling on the hand he's just removed, leading you into the kitchen area. Will clarify it for you later.
The boys have an island that acts as a divider between the two spaces, which is exactly where he's taking you. The clothes he took off you are left by the sofa, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only: leveraging you into a better position.
You yelp a little as he dips to pick you up, gripping the back of his neck without hesitation. 
"Don't be a pussy," he grins, popping you down on the island counter. "Although now I come to think of it -" he lifts you again, getting to your feet. The way his mind darts from thought to thought, and how his body acts upon them without warning, makes you laugh. He sinks his finger into the waistband of your sweats. Pings it again your skin. "Off."
"Say please," you demand, just to be a little difficult. 
"Please."
"Please what?"
"Please," he says, eyes dark as he towers over you, his hands coming to cup your chest once more. The man's obsessed, you think. If he could read your mind, he'd tell you that you're correct. He is. "Take your trousers off."
"Why?"
God, he hates that shit-eating grin of yours. Hates that he can't kiss it away. 
And so he decides he's not gonna entertain it any longer. He grabs your hips. Spins you around. Bends you over the island, a single hand gripping the top of your thigh, the other pressing down between your shoulder blades. 
"What's the word, Byeol?" He asks, checking that you're on the same page.
"Chess," you reply a little breathlessly. This lack of control is something you're used to with him. He's never overtly dominant, always looking out for your needs first and foremost, but this feels... yeah this feels different. This is about him. 
And it makes you far more excited than you ever realised it would.
His hand trails down your back. Strokes at the line of your spine. He admires you. Takes note of the dimples just above your ass. Knows he's in trouble the second he starts squeezing at one of your cheeks. Still an ass guy.
He yanks the material of your sweats down past your ass. Fucking groans when he sees the black lace thong that sits prettily over your ass. Glances over to the bra by his sofa. Groans yet again. Yep . A matching fucking set. 
"Fuckin' vixen," he mumbles to himself, not really intending for you to hear it. Isn't sure if you had planned on getting laid today, but you're definitely dressed for it. As he grapples with the flesh of your ass, he notices just how smooth your skin is. Well moisturised. Coconutty. 
Maybe you had taken extra care in the shower that morning. Maybe you had shaved your entire body. Maybe you had been wearing a new two-piece.
That doesn't mean you were planning on letting him see. Just means your self-care routine is coming along fabulously. Well done you.
There's a bruise on the top of your hip. Jeongguk's thumb brushes against it. Doesn't apply any pressure. A small noise chirps from his throat, questioning it. 
"Pole," you remind him a little breathlessly. "Gentle with my legs, they're covered in bruises."
He nods to himself, and says, "Use 'chess' okay? Hey, look at me a sec - 'chess'. Okay? Even if it's just your legs. Don't wanna hurt you."
You're looking at him over your shoulder with a smile. His sincerity is sweet, but entirely misplaced. You want him to hurt you.
"Notice how there are no bruises on my ass?" you ask, to which he nods. You face away from him again, and sink back into the position he originally had you in, chest pressed to the counter. "Good. Change that."
He thinks he might cream his pants right there and then. 
"You're gonna fuckin' kill me."
"Oh no," you pout, voice all soft and sweet. "Wouldn't that be a shame?"
Jeongguk grapples with your ass. Caresses it. Knows you're not done talking, so is buying time. Wants to hear how you'll tease him. See how riled up it''ll get him. 
"If you die, I'll just have to fuck Jimin again."
The crack of his palm against your ass is electric. 
Your body jolts forward, Jeongguk's grip on your hip to keep you stable no match for the impact of his flat palm. Skin on fire, chest heaving, you giggle. That's all he's got?
"Y'know," you tease, and Jeongguk is pleased that you sound a little breathless. He strokes at the skin he impacted, soothing the sting. Likes that goosebumps are already forming. "He took me from behind, a lot like thi-"
He doesn't even let you finish this time before the sting of his spank is delivered. It's harder than the first one, but his hand is also far quicker to soothe this time around. 
"Yeah," he husks. "I fuckin' know."
You can hear his breathing, now. You're both panting a little. 
"Does it bother you?" you ask as he tenderly cares for your reddening skin. 
"Be specific," he speaks boldly, a little unlike himself, and you're starting to understand why he's an ass guy. Your tits make him weak. This? The way he's got control of your body? Makes him strong. 
"That I fucked Ji-"
The way he cuts you off with another domineering slap to your ass gives you his answer - but so does the way he not only soothes the skin immediately afterwards, but also how his other hand comes to rub the bottom of your spine, following the path of its curve. He's cherishing. Worshipping. 
He leans forward as his hand trails up your spine so he can reach your neck, and tenderly clasps it to he pull you back up. Turns you around. Is gentle as he lifts you back into position on the counter. 
Brushes your hair out of your face. Looks you directly in the eye. Uses this thumb to collect a rogue chunk of glitter from your cheek. Rubs it on his arm. Stains himself in you.
"It doesn't bother me," he says - not for any male sense of bravado, or acting 'chill' - but because he needs you to know it isn't a big deal. You've enough complexes as it is. He doesn't want you to ever feel shame for the things you've done. "Bothers me that he doesn't realise how lucky he was to get a pussy as good as yours. Bothers me he didn't finish the job. Bothers me that he actually got to fuck you," he grins. You grin right back. "But it doesn't bother me that it happened."
"Mm, so you won't share towels with him, but you'll share girls?" You tease. His hands toy with your chest again. Secretly, you think you like him better like this. Like it when he's weak.
"Am I sharing you?"
It's a loaded question, you think.
"Not right now," you whisper, reaching to his waistband, nose nudging against his. "Take these off."
"Say please," he whispers right back. One of your hands tangles in his hair. Pulls him away. Gets him looking into your eyes.
"Please."
How can he refuse? It's like you put him in a trance whenever he sees your disco-ball eyes. He'll do whatever you ask of him.
He takes his trousers off first, then says "shirt?"
You nod. He takes that off, too. Leaves them crumpled in a pile on the floor. Doesn't care for them at the moment. Only cares for you.
"I still need a shower," he says, as he closes the gap between you, your legs wrapping around his waist. 
"We can still get one," you tell him. Honestly, you don't really mind what you do with him. Just know that you wanna make it last. Want this feeling of safety and security for a little while longer.
His arms rest on your shoulders. Just a little taller than you in height when you're sitting like this, Jeongguk likes looking at you from this angle. Likes seeing the variations in your glitter; the small chunks and slightly bigger flakes that make you seem cosmic. He likes noticing the flecks caught on your lashes, and how he never realised quite how long they are. He doesn't think you're wearing mascara. 
You're not - but you did get your lashes done the week before. He wouldn't give a shit even if he knew. Would think it was cool, probably.
"So about that whole no-kissing thing-"
"Nope," you laugh, swatting at his clammy chest. He smirks. Presses his lips together. Shakes his head. 
And then he whines. "It's so unfair."
"If you even try, I'm yelling chess."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah," you assure him - only for him to edge a little closer.
He's not actually going to kiss you. 
Although... if you let him, he might. 
"Chess!"
"Ughhhh," he whines again, pulling away. "So mean, disco ball."
"What if I promise to make you cum?"
He narrows his eyes. "Fine."
One of his hands drops to your chest again. Keeps on coming back. Can't resist. Ass guy? Yeah right.
The other drops to your underwear. Toys with the lace. 
"Bird revision, right?" Jeongguk asks. "So we can only do things we've already done?
You nod. 
"Okay," he whispers, before pulling away from you. "Hold that thought."
You watch as he walks around to the kitchen sink, his thick cock tenting in his underwear, desperate for something. Anything . 
And yet your birds? 
All focus on you. You've no idea how the fuck you're gonna get him cumming. Sure, there was the mutual masturbation one, but you'd promised that you'd be the one making him come. Maybe there's room for loopholes.
It wouldn't be the first time the pair of you have skirted the truth of what a bird could entail. A bird, a plane. Whatever.
Hands under the water, Jeongguk's focus is only on cleaning himself. He preens you so often, fixes your hair, your glitter, that it's nice seeing him in the same capacity but for himself. Realistically, it's all for you, still. 
He glances up. Looks a little bashful. 
The distance reduces the pair of you to your natural states; just Jeongguk and his Stargirl. He gazes at you often, but it's different when he's blinded by the light. With a little space, he's reminded of the fact you belong on this earth, too. 
It's like the pair of you are tangled up in a Jekyll and Hyde situation, instead, it's who you are when your clothes are on, versus when your clothes are off. He likes both of them. Doesn't think they can coexist though. 
"What?" he asks when you smile at him. You just shrug and shake your head.
"Weird isn't it?" 
He comes to stand in front of you again. Your legs don't wrap around him, but he does put his palms on the top of your thighs. Looks pensive as he asks, "What is?" 
He's grinning, too, though. His skin is getting all prickly again. Can smell your arousal. Wants to fucking drink it. 
"You 'n' me," you shrug, letting your arms snake around his neck. You're sat up straight, and the gap between your chests closes. "Like, I was maybe 15 seconds away from kissing you." The admission makes Jeongguk want to die. "But then when you were washing your hands..."
"I was just Jeongguk again, right?" He assumes. You nod. "Same for me. Like we're two different people: who we are when we're horny and who we are when we're 'normal'."
"So fucking weird," you laugh, deciding that it solidifies what a great friendship you have. Convince yourself it's gonna make it so much easier when he starts dating. If you can separate the Jeongguk you mess about with and the Jeongguk you're friends with, then there's no reason the friendship should be lost.
"Too weird to pick back up where we left off?" He says quietly. Nudges his nose against yours. Strokes his hands up your back. Pulls his chest away so he can sneak his hands to your tits once more. Squeezes. Makes you moan.
You shake your head. "Do it again."
He does. 
Is firm, as he does so, his large hands cupping your chest so delicately that you almost want him to be rougher - but you like it when he's gentle. Like how well he takes care of you. His thumbs stroke across your hardened nipples, toying at them, getting you all hot and bothered. 
You moan so subtly that Jeongguk thinks it might be his favourite sound in the whole entire world. 
"You wanted specifics earlier," Jeongguk says under his breath. "I can give you a specific."
You nod. Trail along his bottom lip with your thumb. Let him press his lips down against it. 
"Show me," you tell him. He squeezes at your chest. You know exactly what he wants. You also know he's never done it before. "My tits, huh? You wanna suck on them?"
He swallows harshly. Rests his forehead against yours. Nods. Can feel his cock throb. 
"Big boy words," you whisper, and are met with a slight grunt from Jeongguk. He's used to being the one in your position. Used to setting the pace, setting the tone. You switching it back around on him? Fuck. He might just die. Or cum in his pants. One of the two. Death would be preferable. "Tell me what you want."
He rests his head on your shoulder. Looks at your tits as he plays with them. 
"Not much of a teller. More of a doer."
He's just trying to weasel his way out of it. It's like the birds all over again.
"So do it."
And to your surprise, he does.
His lips are firm as he presses a kiss around your nipple. Once, twice. A third time. Poutier and poutier with each kiss. He's delicate. Sincere. Doesn't wanna get it wrong.
"Feels good," you tell him, knowing he needs the reassurance. 
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you smile. Tease at his hair as his lips wrap around you again. The way his lashes splay on his cheeks is art, you decide. "You've no idea how much I like this."
His lips kiss and kiss. It takes a little encouragement - "use your tongue a little. Yeah. Yeah, like that. It feels so good when you do that. Suck a little- oh fuck. Yes." - but it doesn't take long for him to gain confidence. Be a little bolder. He focuses on your reactions. Notices when your breath hitches everytime he runs his tongue around your nipple. When he kitten licks, too. But when he sucks? That's when the jackpot hits. 
Your body leans into his touch, hand resting on the back of his head. His name escapes your lips half a dozen times. When he switches to your other nipple? Half a dozen more.
His lips are direct and purposeful and they tug your nipple into his mouth, his moans vibrating around you.  Pulling away, Jeongguk wastes no time. Has your other nipple in his mouth almost immediately. Squeezes your tits together, nipples almost touching so he can swipe fast licks across them. Gets you mewling. Whining. Begging for more. 
And how can he refuse? 
His hand dips to your pussy. Toys with you over the lace, which is sodden with your arousal. He slides your underwear to the side, and says nothing, just continues sucking on your tits as he sinks a finger into you.
"Shit," you curse. The angle you're sitting at means he can't get too deep. Means he's hitting you in just the right spot, straight off the bat. He mumbles something, but you can't work it out. Just know there's no possible way he's an ass guy. Hasn't spent more than a second away from your tits since he first started peppering them in kisses. "Just like that."
Your head lulls back, and Jeongguk finally pulls away. "You good?"
He's met with the most satisfied laugh he thinks he's ever heard. "Is water wet?"
"Dunno," he grins. "But you are. Fuckin' soaked. God," he stares down at your pussy, stuffed with two of his fingers. "I fuckin' love this cunt."
You smirk. Roll your hips as well as you can in the position. He watches, transfixed by the way he's stretching you out even with just two fingers.
"My bed," he rasps. "Can we? I know I need to shower, but - fuck - I just gotta have you in my bed, B."
Truthfully, you're glad. There's something about post-gym Jeongguk that just really gets to you. You think it's the pheromones. Don't care to google it because you enjoy the mystery. 
You nod. "Probably for the best. You have to eat off of here."
He smirks. Withdraws from you. Says, "So?"
And then he licks his fucking fingers clean. Eyes on yours. One of his brows tweaks. Challenges you. 
"You underestimate how much I like eating pussy," he says, as he walks away, leaving you in a state of shock.
You think his departure is for dramatic effect. In reality, it's just so you don't see the Cheshire cat grin on his face, pleased with himself for what he just did. He knows it was hot - but he's smiling because he can't get over the way you taste. Fucking delicious.
That thing about torturing himself? Yeah. You might be right. 
Eating pussy isn't on the birds. He knows he can't have it - and yet when you arrive at his door, mouth still ajar, both smug and surprised in the same expression, he thinks it might not be unfathomable. 
"What?" he feigns innocence - but he's got a grin that tells the tale of a valiant hero. He's so pleased with himself that you almost slip back into your 'normal' selves again - but then you crawl onto his bed. All fours. Ass a little red from his hands earlier, but no bruises. Just that barely there thong he thinks belongs in a museum, and evidence of just how turned on you are showing between your thighs.
The smile of his? Replaced with a stare so hard it rivals his cock. 
"What?" you feign innocence now, as you flop down onto his bed - and then he gets the luxury of seeing your tits and - fuck. It's all too much. 
He walks over to the bed. Takes off his underwear. You do the same.
"I'm gonna die," he tells you with absolute certainty. He's so ridiculous that you can't help but smile all fondly at him. The way he jokes and banters with you comes so easily, that part of you doesn't even realise he's naked. Part of you does, though. Mainly your eyes, given the fact they seem to be transfixed on his cock. "If we don't do something about this-" he gestures down to his cock, as if you need any direction "- then I absolutely will just die. Is that what you want? Huh?" 
"Mhmm," you hum, finishing it with a small giggle and a nod, reaching for his hand to pull him onto his bed. He lets you. Follows your lead, cause he hopes it's leading him somewhere good. "I want you dying a very little death."
The innuendo dances off your tongue and into his ear as you sit on his lap. His hands automatically find your chest. He decides he'll miss them. Encourages your body down. Positions you just right so that he can take your tits in his mouth again. He's a changed man.
"Don't think there'll be any little about it," he mumbles as he switches sides, kitten licking now so that he can finish his sentence. "Think it's gonna be a very big death, actually."
"Shit," you whisper as he gets reacquainted with your body. He decides all rather quickly that tits are a gift from God and he's been blind for his entire life up until he met you. How had he not been utterly obsessed before? He'll never admit it. Never. Will prevail as an ass guy - but fuck, he hopes whoever you set him up with has a good pair of tits.
But then there's an uncomfortable awareness of how fleeting this all is. By the time you've both finished, it'll all be over. 
He manoeuvres you both over. Kisses your chest, now. Works his way up to your collarbone. Your neck. Bites down ever so gently. Kisses again. Tells you once more how your no-kissing rule 'will kill' him. 
"Better leave me something nice in your will," you tease as he finally pulls away from dappling your skin in pretty kisses that you wished could have been on your lips instead. Either pair. 
He sits back on his heels. Strokes his cock as he looks at you. Tilts his head, a smirk rising on one side as you cup your tits. 
"Pussy," he encourages, pulling a little tighter on his cock. "Play with your pussy."
You give him a quizzical look, but do as you're told. Slide your fingers between your slick folds. Spread yourself for him. Watch as he almost fucking hisses. The pace he's wanking himself off increases. His breathing shallows. You think it stops completely when you sink two fingers into your entrance.
He curses. Tilts his head back. Ruts his hips upwards. Forces his cock through the tight grip of his hand. There's a sheen to his tip, precum leaking so delicately that you find yourself salivating at the sight of it. The muscles in his lower abdomen tense. He's edging himself. 
"How many birds do we have left?" Jeongguk rasps, eyes opening to find yours again. The way he speaks, all breathless and needy, has you wanting more. "Mutal masturbation's done. I can't... Shit. I can't. I'll cum if I carry on. Tits are done. Fingers, done. What else?"
"Shower," you say, then follow it up with. "Do that last. Water gets in the way. Wanna watch you cum."
"Shit, don't say shit like that," he mewls as he sinks down on top of you. His body is warm, the chain around his neck catching on your throat, pooling between your collarbones. Has you determined to make him finish on your chest. Wanna replace his chain with his cum. 
In a normal scenario, he'd kiss you right now - but he can't. Instead, he averts his desire. Grips his cock. Presses it against your folds. Spreads your slickness. Covers himself in it. Dips down a little too far. Curses. Gets you whining. 
"You know," he husks against your neck. "We could..."
"Cockwarm?" You simper. "Don't believe that one was my bird?"
The crown of his cock presses against you. Jeongguk holds it as the base, and runs it down your folds, then back again. He repeats. Lets his grip get even tighter when he lines up with your entrance. He waits for you to move your hips.
And you do. Just for a moment. Just a tad. Just enough.
"Wasn't it?" He hums, knowing perfectly well it was one of his.
"Don't even think it was a bird," you whisper a little breathlessly as he presses a little deeper against you. He adjusts his hips. Lines himself up a little better. Your breath hitches.
"So you don't want to?" He asks, and you can just tell he's got one of those smiles on his lips. The one that makes you think maybe kissing him wouldn't be so bad. "'Cause I wanna."
"Gguk," you whisper. He shakes his head.
"Not an answer."
"Shit," you whimper, rolling your hips ever so gently to encourage his tepid ruts against you. "Condom?"
"Birth control?" he chances. He knows you're on it. Think if he's gonna get his cock in you, then he's gonna at least try for it raw.
You know you should, and yet - "Are you clean?"
He nods. Asks the same back. You nod. Haven't hooked up with anyone but him since your last test.
Everything is out in the open. There's nothing to lose - just the knowledge that you'll maybe never get this ever again. It only serves to make you want him raw even more.
"You get a minute."
He pauses. "A minute?"
"Sixty seconds," you nod. "Cockwarming. That's all you get."
It's ridiculous, 'cause all you want is for Jeongguk to fuck you senseless. Think it's embarrassing admitting that, though. What if he doesn't actually want to fuck you? What if it's just for the birds?
"Who's counting?" He husks. Realigns himself. Presses the tip of his cock against your entrance. Plugs it but doesn't push forward. Makes you wanna die. Too good. Too fuckin' good.
"You are," you whimper, knowing you won't be able to keep count when he's inside you.
He nods. Reminds you that 'chess' is always an option.
His cock sinks into you slowly. It's thick and wide, angled just right to hit your sweetest spots. Jeongguk groans. Finds himself seeking out your tits with his mouth as he bottoms out. Sucks gently, until he's reminded by you that he needs to be keeping count.
He grins. Nibbles your nipple ever so gently, then nods. "You're right, you're right. Sorry. Shit. One. Two..."
Jeongguk finds solace in the crook of your neck as your legs wrap around him. The position has him thinking you've no right to ever complain about intimacy again. This is about as fucking intimate as it gets. And when your arms wrap around his neck? Dainty fingers start toying with his hair? Only amplifies it.
Your hips move ever so tenderly, and he loses count. Finds himself swearing again. You're tight and warm around him, just how he wanted it. Torture. Fucking torture. He likes this so much he fears you ruined actual sex for him.
"Shit," he mumbles against you. "Never been good at maths."
The way you giggle? Torture. Again. 
"You're a liar, Jeon Jeongguk," you whisper tenderly, tensing around him just cause you liked the way it made him whine.
He pouts and shakes his head, which is still buried in the crook of your neck. His voice is muffled as he asks, "What comes after 32?"
And because you're just as into it as he is, you decide lying is okay for the time being. "11."
"Yeah," he whines. "Thought so. Eleven... Twelve... What's next?"
"Dunno," you whimper breathlessly. It's getting a bit too much for you, too. "Maybe ten?"
"Ten," he echoes. Decides he wants to spend eternity inside you. "Eleven..."
He pauses just long enough for you to know exactly where he's going with this - so you beat him to it.
"Maybe it would be easier if you had a rhythm going?" you simper. 
"A rhythm?" He hums. He was just gonna pretend he couldn't do maths again.
"Like..." you pull your hips back a little, burying yourself deeper into the mattress and away from him - but then you push them back up. Jeongguk fucking whines. "One." 
You pull back, again. Jeongguk whines, again. Sinks himself back into you. "Shit. Two."
"I'm not good at multitasking," he says. Not a lie, admittedly. Gets distracted too easily. If you don't keep count, he'll just fuck you forever or something stupid like that. Doesn't think he'd mind it, to be honest. "Maybe you should keep count."
"Mhmm? You want me to count for you?"
"Yeah," he nods. "Count for me, B. Make sure I don't go over sixty."
"I'll count backwards," you tell him, thinking it will somehow take longer, because apparently all sense of sanity is evading you. Unsurprising. All you can think about is Jeongguk's fat cock and how it's keeping you spread open nice and wide for him. "Countdown." 
"60-0?" He clarifies, to which you nod. "Mhm. Do that. Count backwards. Use that pretty little head of yours."
"Sixty..."
The way he pulls out of you is maddeningly slow. He's deliberating taking his time. Overindulging. Making this last. He's even slower as he pushes back in, filling you up as deep as he possibly can.
You're barely able to get the next number out.
"Fifty-nine," you eventually manage as he bottoms out. "Fuck."
He's lethargic in the way he moves. Slow as he withdraws, and even slower still as he fucks himself into you.
"Fifty-eight..."
Jeongguk's skin is hot. He sticks to you like glue. Only his hips move - but so do yours. 
You're fucking. 
You. Are. Fucking.
And, God, you know you shouldn't. You know that it's a recipe for disaster, but Jeongguk's aftershave smells like safety and his bed feels like home, so the prospect isn't scary. 
"...Forty-two... Forty-one..."
Your whines are getting louder. So are his grunts. You grip onto his biceps, and begin to realise Jeon Jeongguk is not a man. He simply cannot be. Not when he is built like a Greek God, and looks like one too. Crafted from marble, there's no possibility he's real. 
And even if he is real, you think there's no way he'd actually be fucking himself into you like he is. 
Sex, at its very basic fundamental value, is all about survival of the fittest. Anatomy. Breeding. Shit like that; things you can't quite recall when he's balls deep inside you. It's about fucking for the survival of the human race, and out of everyone on the planet, you can't wrap your head around the fact he'd choose to do that with you. His basic anatomy would choose you . 
Jeongguk isn't thinking as intensely as you are. 
Fucking. Nice feeling. Cum. Nice. Inside her. Nice. Fucking. Real nice. Glitter. Nice. Tits. Suck. Nice. More. Fuck. Nice. Again? Nice.
But he is also thinking about spilling himself into you, and how fucking unreal it would feel. 
So maybe your brains are working in tandem. Different process. Same end goal. He just can believe he'd choose you, 'cause, well... he already has.
Eventually, you hit thirty-three, then thirty-two, and then -
"Shit," you whine. "That damn thirty-two."
"What about it?" He asks a little curiously. Pauses his hips until he gets the go-ahead from you again.
"I've forgotten what comes after it."
"Shit," he grins, playing along with you. "Start again?"
"Maybe," you nod. "But this time, maybe go faster? Might jog my memory?"
Jeongguk smirks. Sits up on his heels, cock still buried inside you, knees on either side of your ass. He grips your waist. Spanks one of your tits, then softly caresses it as an apology for letting the intrusive thought win. His hips pulse gently. 
He's fucking you. 
Jeongguk is fucking you. 
He lets the hand that was playing with your chest trail down your torso until it reaches your pussy. It's swollen and needy, just as much blood rushing to your clit as there is to his cock. His thumb presses down right when it needs to. Rubs in tiny circles as he gently thrusts into you slowly.
"Faster?"
You nod.
"Okay," he rasps. "Let's jog that memory of yours. You're so smart, Byeol. Look at you, and your pretty little head. So smart. So fucking smart when my cock's inside you."
This time you don't count. He grips your waist. Rams himself into you like a man possessed, lips resting ajar as his brows knit together all prettily like they did when he was eating brunch. So incredibly focused, and yet there's not a single thought up in that gorgeous head of his, just that he's fucking you so hard his neighbour will definitely be able to hear his bedframe hitting the wall. Good .
The noises he makes are lewd. You think he'd make bank with an only fans. Know that you'd pay good money for it. With a cock as pretty as his? A body like a marble statue? Gorgeous little whimpers when his cock is all needy for you? Yeah, bitches would go wild for him. 
Funny, how you refer to them as bitches, almost like you're jealous over imaginary women who'd find him sexy. Very strange, indeed. 
After all? You're just friends.
His pace eventually eases, and you pretend like you were counting the entire time. "Two... One... Times up."
Jeongguk sinks back down, hooking one of your legs over his elbow as he does so, opening you up even further. He wants to be deeper. As deep as he possibly can be. Wants to press down on your cute little tummy and feel himself inside you.
"Whoever fucks you next better worship your pussy," he mumbles, pressing kisses up your neck. "So fucking good. Shit. If you dare fuck another guy who doesn't make you cum like you know you deserve to cum-"
"You'll what?" you tease, a smile plastered all over your face. "Die?"
He laughs. Shakes his head. You know him so well. "What use would that be? Nah..."
Jeongguk pulls away from you again. Withdraws himself fully for the first time. Watches your pussy as your arousal seeps from your tight cunt and onto his sheets. Wants to lick it all up. Doesn't think he's allowed to, though.
Instead, he moves your legs, finally noticing the extra bruises from pole. You were right. They do look like watercolour bruises. 
He squeezes your thighs together and uses his gentle hands to twist your hips, so that your legs are curled to the side, but keeps your back flat against his bed. He lines himself up with you again. Grunts as he sinks into you. You're tighter now, like this. He thinks it's gonna make him cum. He has to go slow.
"I'd get you like this," he says, holding onto your hip and pushing deeper, deeper into you. He nods over to his desk and smirks. "And that chair over there? That's where they'd be. And they'd have to watch me fuck you how you like it."
He doesn't mean to, but he finds himself fixated on the fact you routinely have sex and don't finish. He can't wrap his head around it. He'd had the luxury of witnessing you cum a handful of times. Had felt it once. Knows first-hand how fucking good it is. Thinks about it as he fucks into you, now, then lets the intrusive thoughts win again as he begins to ramble.
"Can't believe how many people you've let get away without making you cum. You know how good that shit is? Fuck. You feel like heaven. They wouldn't even deserve to watch it - but I'd do it. I'd make them fuckin' watch - 'cause not being funny, B, but you should see yourself right now. So fucking hot I might die. Hopefully then if they fucked you again, they'd know what to do."
"Never realised you were such a good teacher, Mr Jeon," you tease.
He stills his cock inside you. Smirks. Shakes his head. Picks up the pace again.
You know what ' Jeon ' does to him. The ' Mr ' ahead of it? Yeah. Gets him.
And so gives you a friendly threat, as he fucks his cock a little deeper into your tight, warm cunt. "I will fuck you so hard my bed breaks if you don't shut the fuck up."
"Oh?" You grin, trying not to moan and failing miserably. "Would you prefer Sir ?"
"Final warning," he growls, his hips slowing but deepening. He's close. You know it's not gonna take much. 
"Whatcha gonna do? Give me a detention?"
"If you get to call me stupid fuckin' names, then I get to kiss you."
"Kissing isn't very friendly, is it?"
"Byeol, my cock is inside you."
"Yeah? Just a friendly fuck."
He knows you're joking, but Jeongguk doesn't think there's anything friendly about this.
He doesn't insist on kissing you any further.
"You're unbelievable," he smiles, easing slightly before reaching for your hand. "C'mon, let's make you cum."
"Oh? You want this to be over?" You flash a grin, as if you haven't been fucking him for God knows how long by this point, knowing full well he could have cum in 10 seconds flat at any given opportunity. He repeatedly edged himself for you.
"No, but if I don't cum soon, Byeol, I'll d-"
"Die, yeah yeah," you grin. "Alright. Put yourself out of your misery."
He laughs. Looks at you with such fondness that you think you'd quite like to orgasm on his cock for him like a good friend should. "You make me sound like such an asshole."
"I don't," you promise sweetly - before you also decide to let the intrusive thoughts win. "Also, just on the subject of assholes, thoughts on pegging?"
"Literally what the fuck is wrong with you," he laughs, rolling his hips to remind you of the more pressing things at hand. You moan a little, but all you wanna do is banter with him. You enjoy it. Like it when he's all hard and needy and impatient, and you're winding him up. You like frustrating him. 
"You've got a nice ass," you shrug, shoulders pressed deep down into his white sheets. You look angelic, he thinks, hair haloing around your head, chest flushed, tits covered in teeny tiny hickies from his mouth.
"Well, maybe if you'd have picked a different plane..." he teases. "You'd know by now."
Holy shit.
"Wait. You wanna get peg-"
Jeongguk covers your mouth with his hand, a subtle grin on his pretty little face, dewy nose scrunching just for you.
"As much as I enjoy your chitchat, Byeol, I'm gonna fuck you so hard you can't talk at all. That good?"
You laugh. Twist your torso over to reposition yourself on your front. He gives you a playful spank straight off the bat, and it makes you roll your eyes - as if you hadn't turned over just to give him a view of your ass. You'd known what you were getting yourself in for.
Adjusting you slightly, Jeongguk pulls one of his spare pillows over, and lifts your hips to scoot it beneath you. It's his favourite position. Every last part of it. The way he can pull on hair and spank asses? The muffled moans into his pillows? Fuck . 
You love it just as much. Always helps to have your body weight adding to the pressure of your fingers massaging against your cunt. As Jeongguk pushes into you, he watches your hand slip beneath your body, and curses. 
"That's it, B," he husks. "That's a good girl."
He fucks himself into you - slow, deep, hard - and picks up the pace with every pathetic moan that escapes your lips. Tells you how good you sound, how much he wants to hear you come undone - and then you are.
The pleasure waves through you like an electrical current, Jeongguk's thick cock unrelenting as he fucks into you and drags your high even further than you thought possible. There's a numbness to your body, save for the overwhelming pleasure that pulses around his cock. It's all you can feel. Everything else is void. For a moment, the only important thing in your life is Jeongguk's dick and the way it fills you like nothing else ever has.
"Shit," he husks. "B, where?"
"Back," you just say, unable to move because your body is still fucking shaking. You don't even get the chance to mourn the loss of his cock inside of you, because he has to pull out so quickly.
His hand grips his cock and wanks faster than the speed of light. The pressure in his balls builds and builds and then it can build no more.
He squeezes your ass and whines as thick, creamy spurts of cum begin to paint your back.
The sound of his grunting makes you moan with every new rope of cum emptied onto your skin, and Jeongguk's pretty sure nothing in Taehyung's 'passion' collection could even come close to the sight in front of him. 
The final drops are wasted on your ass cheek as Jeongguk holds it to the peachy flesh, watching the way he stains your skin. Holding his cock by its base, he spanks it against your ass once, twice. Smirks. Takes a moment to squeeze your ass just because he can. 
He fucked you. He knows he should be concerned about the friendship, but he's not reached post-nut clarity yet.
Eventually, he flops down beside you.
"You know," you mumble, eyes closed, a smile on your lips. Jeongguk's grin is so serene that it's a good job your eyes aren't open. You might accidentally get your feelings confused if you saw him look that pretty. "I actually think it's a bit mean setting these poor girls up with you."
"What? Why?"
He sounds genuinely affronted. You just smile harder.
"Well, it's a bit cruel, isn't it? Us pretending like they'll be dating some great guy, only for them to later find out you're really average in bed."
He knows you're joking. Knows that a fuck like that could never be described as average. Plays up to your teasing just because he finds it funny.
" Average ?!" He exclaims. You can hear his smile in his tone of voice. "Nah, you're chatting shit just to piss me off, Byeol. What is it, huh? Want me to fuck you again? Want me to remind you exactly how average I can be?"
"Maybe."
He grunts. "Call me when you can walk straight."
"Pass me my phone."
"Fuck off."
The afternoon descends into casual chaos. You shower together, and bicker over who gets to stand beneath the water for longer, then battle it out for Jeongguk's fluffy towel in the aftermath. In the end, he lets you have it - only 'cause he likes the way you oogle at him when he's naked. 
You dry your hair, and style Jeongguk's into pretty little French braids. Tell him that he has to keep it like that. He says he will. By the time Jimin gets home, you're just sitting on the sofa watching shite TV. He's none the wiser you were naked on his kitchen counter a few hours earlier. Probably is best he never finds out about that part.
He studies Jeongguk's hair for a moment, then shrugs. "Suits you. What have you guys been up to?"
Good fucking question. 
"Not much," Jeongguk hums. "Gym this morning. Met this one -" he pokes you with his foot, earning a grimace from you. "- Afterwards for coffee. Been stuck to me like a bad smell ever since."
Jimin laughs. Shakes he his head as he comes to sit by you both with a box of dry cereal that he's eating straight from the bag. 
"You've got the most sensitive nose known to man," Jimin teases. "If you've kept her around, it's cause she smells good."
"Nah," he begs to differ. "Just gone nose blind."
"Prick," you laugh, then ask Jimin about his day. 
Conversation takes place of the shitty TV show, the three of you easily finding a million different topics to talk about.
It's times like this you regret ever fucking Jimin. Part of you fears you'll always just be 'the girl Jimin fucked that one time'. No identity within Jeongguk's friendship group beyond the fact you shagged his mate.
It's stupid. They barely remember Jimin even so much as looked in your direction. You're Jeongguk's friend. Jeongguk's.
Funny how you don't seem to mind being reduced to no identity outside of the confines of Jeongguk. Did you really heal after Seokjin? Or are you just making even worse decisions than you used to?
Thing is, Jeongguk's friends would be right in thinking that of you. 
You are his friend. 
As you head off into town the next morning to arrange his blind date, you know that's all you'll ever be.
And somehow, you think you're okay with that. 
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AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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roll-for-gaslight · 2 days
Text
for whosoever believeth in him (shall not perish but have everlasting life)
An exploration of the two oldest Applebees siblings' relationship with religion. tw// religious trauma, child abuse, let me know if I should add anything else.
AO3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55677883/chapters/141332254
Part One: The Prophet
Part Two: The Proselyte
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight."
-Proverbs 3:5-6
When Kristen was having a hard day, this is the verse that came to mind most often. It was the one she fell back on when it got hard to stay awake at church, or Bucky did something to annoy her and her first instinct was to annoy him back. She was Helio’s Chosen, she knew better than to act like that. It’s not Bucky’s fault he hadn’t learned yet, he wasn’t Chosen like her, he would come to it in his own time. Instead, she would correct him gently and mend anything he broke with a Mending cantrip, one of the earliest signs of her Blessing. It’s the one she’s repeating under her breath now, as she dies in a highschool cafeteria, surrounded by the corn that should have, by all accounts, been blessed with Helio’s light and protected or healed her rather than harmed her. It’s her first set of dying words, though no one else would ever know it. 
She sneaks her principal into heaven only to be sent back to the mortal plane herself. Worse than that, Helio refuses to answer the one question that’s been sitting on her mind for years: why do you let bad things happen to good people? Not only does he not have an answer, he throws her out of the afterlife when s he asks. There is a seed of doubt firmly planted in her heart by that interaction, though she supposes this isn’t the first time she felt a flutter of something like it. 
"I can do all this through Him who gives me strength."
-Philippians 4:13
She supposes this could have gone better. She’s never been left home alone to babysit before, but her parents say that since he just turned nine she’s finally old enough. She’s making macaroni and cheese, with all three boys running around the dining room table. Bucky and Bricker are chasing Cork around the table because he has something she can’t quite make out in his hands, all screaming over each other. She’s just glad that when she told them it wasn’t safe to play in the kitchen they actually listened to her. She felt herself glow with pride at the thought, knowing her mom and dad would be proud of her for taking care of everyone tonight if all went well. 
Then, a lot of things happen at once. There’s a crash, a scream, a thudding sound, and then all her brothers are crying. Bricker runs into the kitchen and barely stops short of crashing into her. 
“KRISTENKristencomequickit’sCorkhe’shurt and—” he half-shouts, but she stops listening. 
“Stay here, turn off the stove, and bring me the emergency phone!” she says immediately, shouting her instructions as she runs into the other room. When she arrives she sees Bucky first, blood all over his hands and face. It takes her a moment to remember what Bricker said and realize it isn’t his own blood, but Cork’s. She casts her eyes downward to see her youngest brother lying there, limp and colorless as blood pooled around him. There’s an action figure, one of Bucky’s, scattered into several pieces about a foot away from his hand. She approaches quickly, realizing that the blood is coming from his head, and grabs one of the napkins off of the table as she pushes Bucky out of the way.
“What happened?” she demands. Bucky looks up at her through his tears, and she realizes abruptly that she doesn’t know how to fix this. 
“We were just trying to get my Adventure Man toy back! I tried to grab him and he lost his balance and his head hit the table and then he just started bleeding so fast I didn’t know what to do,” he says, and she does her best to offer him a comforting smile. 
“Everything is going to be okay,” she assures him, silently begging Helio for forgiveness for bearing false witness, knowing the moment the lie passes her lips that she’ll have to repent in church for it on Sunday. He seems to relax at her words. “Go and get the black bottle with the white cap from under the bathroom sink.” she says, and he runs off. She’s left alone, for just a moment, with a slowly-dying Cork, and is faced with the helpless thought that she can’t heal him. She should have been watching him. 
She begins to whisper prayers, each and every one she knows, under her breath. 
Bucky and Bricker enter the room at the same time, both holding the things she instructed them to grab. She takes the hydrogen peroxide and tells Bucky to take the phone and call their parents, tell them they need to come home, but she’s not sure how to proceed after that. She feels tears prickle in her eyes as Cork’s breathing becomes shallower and shallower, and does her best to clean the wound and wrap it up despite the fact that the blood-soaked towel isn’t doing much anymore. 
Just when the tears begin to fall, the moment that all hope seems lost, it happens. Her hands glow with a brilliant, burning golden light and the air fills with the scent of popcorn. Cork’s eyes fly open as the color returns to his face, and suddenly she can breathe again. She pulls her littlest brother into a tight hug, and Bucky and Bricker join them. She can faintly hear the sound of her parents as they come through the door, moments too late to be helpful but she’s grateful they’re there nonetheless. The whole world feels far away except for her brothers, right here with her. 
“What happened here?” her mom asks, “Kristen, did you just heal your brother? Was he hurt, did you heal him?” 
Kristen looks up from the hug and is only able to nod before her dad starts to separate the four of them. Bucky and Bricker move back when they’re told to, sent off to get cleaned up, but it takes her a few extra seconds before she can let herself let go. Her mom wraps her arms around her to guide her into the living room, and through the shock Kristen can faintly hear her calling Pastor Amelia to share the good news. 
“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is Sol’s will for you in Lord Helio.”
-1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
Kristen’s eyes are starting to get heavy. She’s been staring upward for almost a full twenty-four hours at that point, feeling the searing heat of Sol’s light burn her face as she murmurs her prayers along with the pastor onstage. Pastor Amelia’s shift ended some time ago, so it was a man’s low southern drawl leading them now, but she can’t be sure how long it’s been. She’s ten, so it’s not her first Harvest Festival, so Helio is making her last longer than he used to before he intervenes to help her through her prayers. Her skin feels raw and blistering, and her eyes strain against the unrelenting light. She’s doing her best to make him proud.  
She knows the girl beside her, who seemed so devoted when they met at the beginning, was carried out after only three hours or so. The boy in front of her passed out from the heat not long after. She had noticed that he drank all of his daily water in the first hour, but could do nothing to warn him. Bucky is on her other side, here for his first year in the Prayer and doing well. Next year they’ll be in different age groups, but she’s glad to have him here now. She’s pretty sure he’ll have to kneel soon because of how he’s shaking and sweating. Kneeling is allowed as long as they know you’re still awake. There’s a part of her that wants to kneel first so he’s not nervous, but she also knows it’s important that she remains standing as long as possible to fully connect with Helio. 
She knows that probably within the hour, they’ll get an optional ten-minute break to refill their water. If Bucky can last until then, she’s pretty sure he’ll be able to make it through the next day. 
He kneels, his head falling onto the ground immediately. She knows it’s technically against the rules, but she kicks him in the arm and casts one of her smallest healing spells for him. She can barely see in her peripheral vision as he glows momentarily and looks up at her. He’s still faintly murmuring prayers, so he’s not actually out yet. Kristen feels the toll the spell takes and her knees buckle, so she slowly kneels to avoid taking out those around her if she falls. She distantly notices several other kids around her kneel quickly after, as if they were all awaiting her cue as Chosen. She thinks she should maybe feel guilty for that, but she can’t quite bring care about them right now, only Bucky. He’s still sweating, but as she kneels he seems to remember his placement and raises his face to the sun yet again. 
She waits anxiously for someone to say something or for Helio’s reprimand to come for breaking the rules. He sees all, so she knows it’s hopeless to think he won’t notice. 
Despite that, nothing comes. When the ten-minute break arrives, Bucky turns as if to speak with her and she just hands him her water jug. “Can you fill this for me, Buck? I’m going to pray through the break. As much ice as you can crush in there, please.” she requests, and he nods. 
“Yeah, Kristy, I can do that. I’ll let mom and dad know,” he responds, and she suddenly and desperately wishes for last year, when she was the only one of her siblings doing the full prayer and Bucky’s only job was to make sure she had water on breaks, free to spend most of the rest of the festival playing and enjoying the summer. 
The pastor is taking a break, so anyone staying is welcome to do their own prayers. If there’s anyone else in the field, they must be really far away from her. She feels the breeze for the first time in a while, but the sun also beats down harder than before. She sends Helio her apologies, doing her best to appease him, but never feels the sweet rejuvenation of his miracles. Not until the very last second of what should have been her break, right as people return to the field. She feels all eyes on her as she realizes she must have been the only one that stayed judging by the size of the crowd. Right as she registers that information, she feels a warmth in her chest. It expands outward and the day becomes ten times brighter. She’s glowing and feels herself becoming weightless. She knows it’s Helio’s blessing at last, knew all along that forgoing her break was the perfect way to repent. It lasts a full minute before she slowly descends, and when she does she feels it.
She feels like she’s fresh off of a full night’s sleep, completely refreshed. Her braid has redone itself, she feels clean, and her skin is no longer blistering. People suddenly crowd around her on all sides, each kneeling beside her and taking a moment to look up to the sky before returning to their new formation, remaking the neat lines that had been lost before as others failed. Bucky is the last to approach and takes his place beside her, reaching out to grab her hand for one fleeting moment before pulling away again. He puts her water jug and his own between them. For a while, everything is perfect. 
Seven hours later, the night brings a unique challenge, and the one that finally removes Bucky from the Prayer. It’s much cooler, a reprieve from the intense heat of the sun, but it’s also dark. At this point in the festival, that makes it too easy to fall asleep. He has the sense to kneel before he does it, but not to totally avoid colliding with Kristen. He falls across her feet, and suddenly she feels tears in her eyes. Maybe she should give up too, help him out of the crowd. She knows it would be frowned upon, and can picture the look of disappointment on her mom and dad’s faces when they see her step away. She can’t bring herself to move. Someone comes to collect Bucky, but she doesn’t see who. 
She lasts until noon the next day. It’s been a full forty-eight hours, and she’s the last one standing for their entire age group. The field is empty around her. The clock strikes loudly for twelve o’clock, the time of day where Helio’s magic is the strongest, and suddenly her legs buckle and go out from beneath her. She hits the ground hard, feels the dirt and rocks scrape against her knee. The moment her head hits the ground, she loses consciousness. 
Kristen wakes up alone on a cot. There’s a window open, letting fresh air and a little early morning light into the room. She checks her crystal to see it’s six in the morning, eyes aching at the light from the screen until she turns the brightness setting all the way down. She hovers over her mom’s contact for a few moments, considering texting to see where to find them, but can’t bring herself to actually do so. She closes her eyes instead to do a silent prayer for her daily spells, and it feels like a weight off her chest when she feels the holy magic fill her with warmth. Helio is proud of her. She did good. 
“Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord Helio is giving you.”
-Exodus 20:12
“Kristen, I don’t know how many times we’re going to have to go over this. If they don’t worship Helio, they’re sinners. It doesn’t matter what they do or say because anything done outside of Sol’s light is sin.” her dad is saying, frustration coloring his tone. 
Her mom nods in agreement. “If they aren’t faithful, they aren’t your friend. If you can’t depend on them to make the right choice on the most important decision, how can you trust them with anything else?”
Kristen finds herself at a loss for words. It had been Bricker who started all of this, playing with that little Goblin girl on the playground before Mac and Donna had gotten the chance to pull him away. It had been an innocent question. “But she was so nice, what could be wrong with her?” he had said. He’d also immediately accepted his parents’ simple answer: she was a non-believer. Kristen had been fighting this battle for half an hour at this point, determined to show her parents the truth of Helio’s light. This is part of being Chosen, she thinks. It’s her job to right these wrongs, even if it means standing up to her parents. 
“Mom, Dad, Sol’s light touches all creatures the same. If they act with good intentions and follow the rules of scripture, they have potential to find faith. Isn’t it our job to lead them there, and let them take their own path there? It doesn’t make them bad people, just lost ones.” she says, not for the first time. 
“That’s enough, Kristen,” Mac says finally, using his this-conversation-is-over voice. She winces slightly, knowing that she’s in trouble. “You need to drop this, or we’ll have to go have a talk with Pastor Amelia about you questioning Helio’s word. Is that what you want?”
Panic fills her at the thought of Pastor Amelia’s disappointed face and tone. There’s no way she would still be Helio’s Chosen if she really questioned Him and she knows it. Pastor Amelia having to step in would definitely call it to His attention. She shakes her head quickly. 
“No! No, of course not. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to question Him. I just didn’t understand, I guess,” she assures them quietly, and they seem satisfied. When she glances at her brothers, Bricker looks disappointed. She looks away.
“There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a person who stirs up conflict in the community.”
-Proverbs 6:16–19
Kristen has never been more excited than her first day of highschool. She’s excited to make friends, and to fulfill Helio’s word by showing them the light. It’s the whole reason that she wanted to go to Aguefort, and it’s why she asks Daybreak to send her to detention with the bad kids. Who better to help the most lost souls in the school than the Chosen of Helio? Who better to bring them under his holy gaze?
She feels a little bad for lying, but knows that she can repent for it tonight and Helio will understand. She feels worse about asking Daybreak to lie for her, and knows she needs to apologize to him too. She’s Chosen, she should know how to act better than that.
It doesn’t matter. They don’t seem happy about her proselytizing, but they seem to like her anyway. She’s looking forward to her new group, to finally getting the chance to be the yeast that makes the whole loaf rise. 
She dies instead. 
“Do not practice homosexuality, having sex with another man as with a woman. It is a detestable sin."
-Leviticus 18:22
Tracker is maybe the coolest person Kristen has ever met. She’s openly queer, a werewolf, and she worships Galicaea. She grew up in the church and chose to leave it, which is scary, but it’s also really… Exciting? Thrilling? Enticing? Attractive? Kristen isn’t sure she has exactly the right word for it yet, but she knows it feels almost good. 
She’s not so sure about Helio anymore. How could He not have the answers she was looking for? Not even for her, His Chosen? What did it even mean to be Chosen by Him? Did it mean anything, if she didn’t choose Him too? She’s not so sure anymore. 
She hates that she hasn’t seen her brothers all week. It’s not like it is with her parents with them, they haven’t done anything wrong. She hates that her long school days have led to her avoiding her whole family. She’s had more sleepovers since school started than she has in the whole rest of her life. 
She’s pretty sure she has a crush on Tracker. What would that mean for her? Would that make her gay? Or maybe bi? She hopes, for a moment, for that to be the truth but now that she’s thinking about it the thought of spending the rest of her life with a husband in a traditional marriage sounds… suffocating. Spending the rest of her life with someone fun and interesting like Tracker sounds so much better. 
Maybe Helio isn’t everything. Maybe her parents are right about him, and if they are then she’s not interested. Maybe Helio holds hatred in his heart. 
Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe she’ll find something new. 
Maybe she’ll take a leap of faith. 
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
-Hebrews 11:1
She can still cast magic. She’s not sure who or how, but her leap of faith didn’t strip her of her divine magic. She can still heal her friends, and her Spirit Guardians aren’t corn-themed. The magic flowing through her is strange and new, no longer searing heat but instead a slight chill that shoots its way through her from her very core. 
Every night’s a sleepover as long as she’s not living at home. Her parents haven’t even tried to get her home yet, not even a text since the other night. She’s just glad Fig and Gilear have been so nice to let Kristen move in with them. There’s no way she would have been able to leave that house if they hadn’t offered; she couldn’t imagine actually asking her friends to take care of her like this. Fig was just nice enough to offer first, so she didn’t feel as bad just accepting. 
Tracker is going to be her girlfriend, she’s pretty sure. She still has to actually ask, but she’s pretty sure the feelings she’s having are reciprocal. She talks to Ragh, quietly and briefly, about being gay. He doesn’t make fun of her, which she suspected he wouldn’t. He just nods respectfully along as she speaks and gives her a little head pat before they depart, the most affection she’s seen him show anyone but Dayne. 
Kristen’s decided that she’s happy with who she is. If someone has a problem with it, she doesn’t need to care. That’s how Tracker talks about it all: her queerness, her religion, her lycanthropy. There’s no reason Kristen should have to change who she is for some bullshit rules that don’t actually mean anything. Fuck anyone who says otherwise.
 “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”
-Ephesians 2:8-9
Kristen is dying again. In the gym, at prom, she is being killed by the vice principal, but it doesn’t even matter. As Helio’s Chosen she is directed straight towards the main office of Heaven when she arrives, only to find Arthur Aguefort waiting for him. Not only does he agree to come back and help her return, but he also gives her his watch to use. 
Oh, and she creates a new god. 
No big deal. 
Okay, big deal. She hates her new god, but it’ll be okay. Maybe YES! just has to grow on her. 
“For Sol so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life”
-John 3:16
The chapel makes Tracker freak out, but Kristen can’t get the image of the goddess out of her head. She was beautiful, and there was something strikingly familiar about her. She tries several times to draw her, but to no avail. She doesn’t voice her desires to her friends or even to Tracker on any kind of deeper level, but feels herself drawn to the idea of a forgotten goddess who specializes in doubt. Doubt has already gotten her this far, right? 
As they venture into Sylvaire and split up to gather the ingredients, only to lose all their allies except Gilear. Oh, yeah, and Kristen almost dies again, but at least this time she saves Riz. At least this time she has the chance to do some good. She thinks that it’s worth it as long as her friends are safe. 
When they make it to the chapel in the forest, their second time coming in, she’s grateful to have Fabian watching her back. The whole place seems creepy, but also strangely alluring. She wants to understand who this goddess was before she was abandoned. Why would her followers do this to her? She steps closer. 
‘Why do you searching for me?’ a low, crackling voice speaks directly into her mind. 
“I heard that you were the goddess of doubt, and that really resonates with me right now,” Kristen begins to say, but those aren’t the right words. She pauses for a moment to think. “I have a lot of praise for you.” she says finally. 
There’s a sharp pain in her chest, accompanied by a horrible wet sound. She chokes, suddenly unable to catch her breath, and grasps for whatever hurt her only to make contact with something that feels like solid bone. She looks down and— Is that a spike? 
Fabian says something and then he’s gone and it’s dark. She holds onto consciousness for as long as she can, tilting her head up to the sky and wishing, just for a moment, for the strength of a god supporting her the way Helio used to. It doesn’t come. Neither do her friends.
‘I have a lot of praise for you.’
What was she thinking?
Kristen Applebees, dying yet again with a prayer on her lips.
“‘Who’ is easy. It is us, everything, and you. ‘Why’ is harder.’Why’ is something that only you can decide. The universe doesn't have a ‘why’.”
For a while, she’s floating in nothing. She doesn’t have a sense of time or space, it’s neither light nor dark, there is no sensation. Everything is just empty for a while, and then it’s not anymore. Her eyes are already open when she comes to, face turned upward towards the ceiling. 
She looks down to find a gaping hole in her chest, her tie-dye shirt soaked through with blood. She puts her hand through it to make sure it’s not an illusion, but realizes belatedly that that doesn’t mean anything in the Nightmare forest. Looking at her hand, she realizes that her pinky finger is missing too. 
She slowly, carefully, wanders out of the room and into the forest. Her friends are far away, and she’s scared, and she’s pretty sure she’s still dead. That suspicion is confirmed when she’s brought face-to-face with the person she wants to see the least right now: Helio. He’s accompanied by Sol and a woman Kristen doesn’t immediately recognize. 
The woman introduces herself as Galicaea, Tracker’s goddess, and Kristen can’t help but feel comforted by the thought of her girlfriend for a few moments before it all goes wrong. Are these her only options? Sol’s bullshit or Galicaea’s? 
No. 
She’ll make her own options. She punches Helio in the face. 
Her philosophers aid her as they always have, helping her find the path away and giving her magic while she can’t rely on a deity. She knows what she needs to do. 
She’s going to bring back the mystery goddess, no matter what it takes. 
“The first rule of existence is as above, so below. People are fractal images of the universe. You are, as we are.”
If the first rule is as above, so below, that’s where she’ll start.
She ends up deep in the forest, and she can hear Tracker hunting her somewhere in the distance. She takes mud from the forest floor and blood from her own chest, using it to paint the goddess’s face on the bark of a wide tree. She’s no artist, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
She all but lays down, her knees folded underneath her and body pressed low, but her eyes cast up to the image. Slowly, it shifts until it shows the image of a beautiful goddess, the very one Kristen has been reaching out for. 
She appears in an inky void, mountains in the distance and a deity made of starlight in front of her. They speak of finding comfort in the dark unknown and wielding doubt as a tool rather than holding it in her heart; Kristen feels something slot together like a piece has been missing from the core of her very existence and it’s finally here. 
She’s pulled out of the conversation by danger looming outside of her new twilight protective circle, but Tracker is the danger. He escapes into the woods, free yet again, and finally finds her friends. She feels drawn in until she can pull the pinky finger bone out of Adaine’s pocket. She casts raise dead, there’s a sudden bright flash of light, and then it’s done. 
She feels her body return to her, hears her friends’ exclamations of surprise at her sudden appearance. She can see, in the low dusk light, the purple tie-dye of her new shirt made to represent her new goddess. Cassandra. She takes her first breath.
St. Kristen Applebees is born again. 
33 notes · View notes
whiskygoldwings · 10 hours
Text
Anecdotes of a Guard Life - Operation Snooze
This one I blame on @icnamiro! Hope you enjoy!
CW - Absolutely none. Unless you don't like Corrie fluff!
It’s a rare day that Fox manages to sneak a nap without some emergency or another cutting it abruptly short. An even rarer day that he gets to sleep more than a couple of hours. In fact, CMO Bones has started threatening forced sedation, and that’s how Thorn knows it’s really become a problem.
Bones is vocal about the need for proper, natural sleep, instead of that aided by medication. He’s sung that song loud and clear frequently, thanks to the repeated enquiries of various vode. Including Thorn, to be fair. After Fox’s first 48 hour shift, they’d thought it prudent to at least check if drugging the Marshal Commander was possible. The glare Thorn had received from Bones had made it very, very clear exactly what the medic thought of that.
So when Bones started muttering about restraints and sedative amounts, Thorn had decided it was time to take drastic measures.
Only, perhaps not Bones level drastic measures. Prime knew if Fox would even survive that.
So. Thorn has implemented Operation Snooze. The OpSec has been robust, and every single Guard (except, of course, for Fox himself) is aware of the requirements and duties of this operation.
Today, all the planning and work Thorn, along with their compatriots (there’s no way they’re going down alone for this) Stone, Thire and Hound, have slaved away on has come to fruition.
Yarn’s the one who finds him. Unsurprisingly really. The Shiny has a knack for finding the cozy, warm spots hidden away from other’s eyes. So when he excitedly, but very quietly comms Thorn to explain he’s found Fox curled up in Rec room 3, the one that smells vaguely of musty socks and damp underwear, driving most Vode away, Thorn isn’t quite as surprised as they should be.
The 1010 alert goes out immediately. Stone and Thire acknowledge within seconds, while Hound comms Thorn shortly afterwards.
“I have twenty-seven troops ready to deploy,” Hound’s voice is professional and curt.
“Dispatch to the location I’m sending you now. I’ll meet you there.” Thorn’s just as terse, and they both sign off without any further word, already moving swiftly towards the rendezvous point.
When Thorn arrives, Hound’s not there, but Yarn is dedicatedly keeping watch as instructed. He’s practically vibrating as he salutes at Thorn, and Thorn struggles not to grab the kid and bundle him into a hug.
“Subject still in situ, sir!” Yarn whispers, voice breaking slightly with excitement. Thorn’s still furious General Ti sent them an eight year-old, but she’ll have to pry Yarn from their cold, dead hands before they’ll give him back.
“Good work trooper,” Thorn praises, and Yarn’s spine goes impossibly straighter with pride. “We’re waiting on Hound and his platoon and then we’ll begin the next phase.”
It doesn’t take long. Yarn’s back doesn’t ease from it’s rigid posture at any point, and if Thorn wasn’t already ready to take on the entire Senate for him, the commitment to this task would have been the tipping point. Thorn’s a sucker for anyone who looks after Fox.
Thire and Stone check in to confirm they've placed themselves to pick up any datawork or queries that land in the Marshal Commander's office. Thorn sends them back a brief "acknowledged", and tries not to feel too smug as the plan falls into place.
When Hound arrives a few minutes later, Thorn’s very pleased to see Riser and Alice leading the platoons behind him. Both solid, well-worn Guard veterans who’d give their all for Fox. Also, very likely in need of sleep themselves. Two clankers, one blaster and all that.
Thorn flashes a signal for silence, quickly acknowledged by Hound and the two captains, before moving around Yarn and poking their head into the room. Their nose wrinkles as the musty smell hits them, but it’s quickly forgotten at the dark shape lodged into the corner of one of the cushion piles on the opposite side of the room.
Fox is tucked against one of the large body-pillows Rhys had scrounged out of a skip, head down and arms folded across his chest, still defending himself even in sleep. His face is soft, the constant furrow in his brow smoothed out, and lips slightly parted as he breathes. He’s clearly absolutely exhausted; dark bags under his eyes and not even twitching as Thorn paces quietly into the room and starts directing troops into place.
It takes a few minutes, but everyone gets settled into place without a hitch, and Thorn smugly snuggles against Hound’s back, pulling Alice’s arm around them and tangling their legs with Riser’s.
----
Fox is warm, and strangely content when he wakes up. It’s strangely hard to clamber out of the clutches of sleep. He feels enclosed and protected and safe.
Abruptly, he realises why, and he snaps awake with a jerk.
Hound’s plastered across his chest, arm flung over his side and nose pressed into the bottom of his neck. There’s someone tucked into Fox’s other side, head laying on his stomach, and an arm tight around his hips. He’s pretty sure there’s at least two people curled against his legs, and Thorn’s behind Hound, one hand flopped over his back and trailing over Fox’s shoulder.
Fox is… Confused. Yes. That’s a very good word for it. He’s completely certain he fell asleep alone, alarm set for one hour and the other Commanders safely far away with their own duties. Rec room 3 had proven an excellent place to hide himself away when the exhaustion had gotten a little too much and he found himself unable to focus on the datapads for a moment longer. He’d found himself stumbling there today after what his comm informed him was 62 hours awake with only a few ration bars and several metric tonnes of caff to keep him functional.
Clearly, his secret sleeping spot wasn’t quite so secret anymore.
Fox manages to lift his head just enough to catch the sight of several other Vode bodies piled in various arrangements across the room, effectively blocking any escape he might try to make. Not that he had much hope of that, with Hound so thoroughly wound around him, blithely snoring away without a care in the world.
His movement does alert someone else that he’s awake. Thorn twitches, and the hand against his shoulder rises up to form a hand signal.
“Safe”.
Fox twists his neck slightly to look over at Thorn, who’s blearily blinking back with an ever-so-slightly smug grin. Thorn brings their hand down enough to be back in Fox’s line of sight, and forms the gesture for safe again.
Fox glares, and Thorn rolls their eyes, before closing them and snuggling further into Hound’s back.
“Thorn!” Fox hisses.
No response.
“Thorn!” Fox hisses louder, and suddenly, another head pops up further across the room.
The new vod has wide, pleading, tired eyes, and a pout Fox swears must be bio-engineered. He can already feel his resolve crumbling, as the Shiny lifts their own hand to signal “orders” at him.
Fox should tell them to help him out, to assist him in removing himself from the pile of sleeping Vode around him.
But the Shiny, and Fox is fairly certain their name’s Yarn, from the distinctive tattoo on their neck, widens their eyes further, somehow making them look damp and tearful. And Fox is abruptly, completely certain that the cadet’s never met a single vod who could say no to them.
With a great, heaving sigh, Fox sinks back, closing his eyes and moving one hand to curl around Hound’s back. The man snuffles softly, before going back to snoring lightly against Fox’s neck, and Fox will never admit to the way it makes the tightness in his chest ease.
Fine. He’s absolutely, completely certain this is all Thorn’s fault. But just this once, he’ll go along with it.
… Not that he’s got much choice in the matter.
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ordowrites · 3 days
Text
calla lilies I
cw: sfw, minors dni, mdni, sorta pre-existing relationship, one sided pining, afab reader, pet names used, reader has an Electro Vision, childhood friends to strangers to lovers. slow burn, multi-part, hints at domestic violence (not between kaeya and reader).
summary: when you were a teenager, you and your mother moved away from mondstadt for reasons you don't know, and you barely had time to say goodbye to your closest childhood friend. however, the wind always leads you back - when your current job goes awry, you find yourself having to unravel secrets of your childhood and coming to terms with heartbreak of the past.
wc: 2,758
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"You're...you're leaving?" You look up from your half packed suitcase to stare into the single eye of your closest friend, trying to ignore the clear hurt on his face. There is youth there that is slowly leaving as the Knights take up most of his time - he had just turned seventeen and you are shortly behind. "When Father said that you and your mother were leaving Mondstadt, I...honestly thought he was simply repeating rumors and not telling the truth."
"Yeah," you mumble. "We're leaving for Fontaine at dawn. I'm just...finishing up packing the rest of my stuff."
"So you weren't planning on saying goodbye?" You freeze, hands midway between the suitcase and your last remaining bit of clothes. You swallow.
"I-I was," you stammer out. "Once I finished packing and I would be able to track both you and Master Diluc down. The Knights keep you both so busy. Believe me, I wanted to tell you but...the Grand Master always told me to leave the two of you alone because you both needed to focus." You aren't sure why you're mad at Kaeya for what the Grand Master said, but you are. And maybe you're a little bitter about some things, and maybe you should tell him but you choose not to.
"Well, the Grand Master doesn't know what he's talking about. You come first."
You force a smile as Kaeya finally, fully, enters your bedroom to help you finish packing up the last of your stuff. You relish in the final hours of being with him and listening to his stories. You just wish you were able to spend more time alone with him, without the young Ragvindr progeny hanging around, without societal expectations keeping the both of you apart. You wish, in that moment, you could tell him of all the things in your head.
But you knew better than that, so you soak up every second you have with him in this moment. And you pray that Barbatos will lead the both of you back together one day because in all honesty, you don't want to leave the lazy city of the wind - you don't want to leave the only one behind that understands you.
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"Please stay on the main road." You call to the merchant, trying to hide the impatience in your voice. "I am being paid to escort you to Mondstadt, not be your babysitter." You started to work for the Adventurer's Guild some time ago, having been blessed by the gods with the power of Electro that gives you an advantage over a lot of the other members. You even had the chance to work with the famous Traveler and their floating companion for a short time, which was pretty cool - gives you some bragging rights over your colleagues and impresses your mother every time you talk about it.
"Sorry, sorry." the merchant - Anatole - says, although he doesn't sound very sorry. "The scenery here is beautiful, I cannot help but get distracted." You make a noise of agreement, indicating that the merchant isn't wrong but you've grown accustom to the beautiful waters of Fontaine and find yourself wishing you could be sitting by the sea instead of trekking through the hills of Mondstadt. "You grew up here, didn't you?"
"I did." You tell him. "My mother used to nanny for Master Ragnvindr." His name tastes funny in your mouth - you think of the former master of the Dawn Winery. He was always so nice to you, despite the differences in class - Master Crepus always gave you candy, and you usually played with his sons. At least, you did for awhile before, for some reason, you stopped. The young Master Diluc had become so busy with the Knights, quickly making a name for himself and his adoptive brother trailed quietly behind, preferring the shadows over the limelight. Perhaps it just became the differences in society that you stopped spending so much time with them, perhaps stupid teenage feelings got in the way - every time you watched Kaeya talk with young ladies of nobility, you'd get a hot sense in you that burned inside.
"That is quite...lucky, don't you think?" He's trying to make conversation, even though you've made it clear time and again that you don't really want to reveal anything about yourself. "Ah, well. You know, I have a son around your age..."
"That's nice," you tell him. "I do hope he finds someone he is interested in."
"Perhaps when we return, I can introduce him to you." From what you know, Master Anatole is a family man and has gotten in the coffee business back in Fontaine. He owns a local shop that's quite popular with the youth, you've been by a few times since he has a couple of locations open within the city and it's not bad but you're not sure what coffee and alcohol have to do with each other. Perhaps this is why you've never cared much for business, it's never made sense to you and anyone who becomes rich tend to get a big head. "I bet the two of you would make a handsome couple."
"My apologies, Master Anatole, I am not quite looking for a partner."
He seems to take this in stride. "Well, I tried. That lad isn't very great with women." he shakes his head. "I have a daughter a little bit older than you, and she's expecting her first. She's due soon, so I am excited for my first grandchild."
"Well, congratulations." And you mean those words. "Any names picked out that you know of?"
"I believe Raoul if male, and Cerise if female." You give a small nod. Lovely names. "Raoul was the name of my father." You sort of zone him out as he talks more about his family, how he had met his wife and fallen in love with her almost immediately - you are, at least grateful that his talking seems to make time move a tiny bit faster.
Soon enough, you and Master Anatole arrive at the large, familiar gates of Mondstadt and you can't help but feel anxious as you cross with him - almost leading the front. There are no enemies here, you tell yourself, no need to hurry, although you'd much rather drop Master Anatole off in the city and hurry home yourself, that's not your job. You have to check in with Kathryne, with the merchant at your side as proof you've completed part of your job. Then you have to escort him out to the Dawn Winery so he can do whatever it is rich men do, and spend the next week of your life here until deals are created. And then you can return back home to the beautiful blue seas.
"Please do not get distracted yet, Master Anatole." You tell him, feeling as if you're dealing with an excited child and not an adult who is a family name in Fontaine. "The day is just about over, and then you can go and check out the famous Angel's Share."
"Of course."
So with him at your side, you head to the Adventurer's Guild, the streets are almost muscle memory to this day. Maneuvering around the hustle and bustle of the townsfolk, as calm and casual as it was when you left in comparison to the constancy of Fontaine. Almost familiar faces pass you by, if not a bit older, graying or having grown up since you were young too. All names that have almost left your memories in replacement of your friends back home.
The bell above the door jingles, and Kathryne greets you with the same friendliess as she does everywhere else. You're given your payment for the day for completing a part of your commission - the rest will be given upon your return to Fontaine, and it honestly pays more than to get you by for a month.
"Hotel then you can go to the tavern."
"Please, I am not a child. I am aware."
At least, you think, as the two of you wake your way to the Inn - you can take a carriage from Liyue back to Fontaine. Mondstadt is still working on re-opening direct paths between nations, after the Stormterror incident had been resolved for the time.
After getting settled in, your day ends but you decide to join him at the Angel's Share just to see if it's changed any since you were a child and unable to drink.
There are fewer Knights around than you remember - everything feels less guarded than they had some years ago now, and you wonder what happened there. Maybe you'll question some familiar people about it later, but for now, some Dandelion Wine sounds fairly good.
Charles is manning the bar tonight - he looks older, now. Some gray hairs sporting in his hair and moustache, he looks more tired but no less intimidating than he did once upon a time. You wonder if you look older, too. Wonder if he remembers your name or if you were just that child that tried to sneak a bottle of wine with the young Master Diluc because you were sooo curious about it, and you wonder if he remembers any other incidents with the red head you'd drag along on your more...dangerous adventures. Kaeya always lingered behind, was always the lookout.
Despite your longing for Dandelion Wine, you elect something lighter and fruitier, after all, you cannot be hung over while escorting Master Anatole to the Dawn Winery tomorrow morning.
You almost pay Charles for your drink, but Anatole insists on covering for you - claiming he still feels like you're being underpaid for such a task as bringing him from one end of Teyvat to another part of it, upending your life for quite a few weeks. He really is an earnest man, you think with a small frown.
"Thank you." After talking for a little while longer, you decide to call it a night - maybe you'll feel less grumpy in the morning. "I'm headed back to the Inn, and I don't want to like, give you a curfew, but when do you want me to come looking for you if, for some reason, you're not back yet?"
"Hmm, midnight." Master Anatole decides and you quirk a brow. "Aha, please don't tell my wife. I haven't been able to be out so late since before I was married - I kind of miss it."
"Alright. Midnight it is."
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You settle into your hotel room, with the intent on winding down and trusting a full grown man to make it back by himself - when past midnight, something feels off. You grumble as you sit up, climbing out of your bed and poking your head out of the window. There's nothing weird outside, but your instincts are telling you that something is wrong.
You look over at Anatole's bed. It's empty.
Idiot probably passed out somewhere, you think with slight irritation as you climb out of bed and quickly dress. You grab your Vision and head out, fiddling with it as you walk.
At least you catch Charles closing up just in time - grateful that the Inn, is at least, nearby.
"Hey, have you seen Master Anatole?" You ask, and bartender looks at you with some exhaustion.
"He left a few hours ago." Charles tells you. "He talked for a few hours, and then said he had to leave. Is he not with you?"
You shake your head. "He didn't return at the Inn. Did he say where he was going? Was he sober?"
"He had half a bottle of Dandelion Wine," Charles tells you simply - as if you were a bit stupid for asking that question. "He did not say where he was going, and I did not ask, my apologies."
You inwardly groan. So he's a stupid drunk.
"Okay, thank you, Charles."
"Of course. Also -" You stop. "Welcome back to Mondstadt, you little troublemaker." It's affectionate, the way he says it and you turn to him, giving him a weak smile.
"Thanks, Charles." You hurry up - looking in all the places he could have logically gone to and turning up with nothing. You rub your forehead, brows furrowing. Where could he have gone? How does an adult man in Mondstadt go missing?
"Excuse me," you stop a patrolling Knight. "Have you seen a Fontainian man? Perhaps a bit drunk? He would have been wearing a purple jacket, maybe early forties."
"Ehm..." the Knight stutters. "Sorry ma'am, but I don't believe I have. I will keep an eye out for you. What was his name?"
"Anatole, sir." Useless. "I'll keep searching." Now panic is starting to set in - no way he left the city, right? That would be...insane. But where else could he have gone? You swear, you've searched every corner you could that would make sense for him to stumble off to. With a deep breath, you head towards gates, hoping you won't need your weapon that you left back at the Inn.
"My apologies, but the gates are shut for the night." A guard tells you - Lawrence if you remember right - with regret in his voice.
"Seriously? Since when?" You draw in a breath. "I-I'm looking for someone, and I think he may have accidentally left. Um - a Fontainian man named Anatole. Purple jacket, somewhere in his forties, probably a bit drunk. Literally cannot be missed." You're trying so hard to not feel distressed over this - the fear that's settling in. Lawrence frowns at you, brows furrowing. "Did he not come by here? Maybe the back gates..."
"If we have a missing persons, I can escort you to Knight's Headquarters and we can file a report."
"Listen, I'm with the Adventurer's Guild - am I not allowed to go search for him outside the city just in case he left without you guys noticing?"
"Sorry, but orders are orders." Lawrence says, craning his neck towards the close gates. "Unless we get permission from the Captain or the Acting Grand Master, we can't go against these rules."
"Just - okay. Okay, bring me to the Headquarters and let me talk to your Captain."
"My apologies," Lawrence says as he starts to lead you back down the streets. "I know it must be frustrating, but ah - with all of the strange happenings recently and disappearances, we now have a very strict curfew. Only few have the okay to come and go this late, including but not limited to Master Diluc and little Diona, both of whom don't live in town but work in town."
Diluc. You draw in a breath.
"Is Master Diluc not with the Knights anymore?"
"I believe he would rather suffer than be associated with us." Lawrence answers. "A lot happened after you left, y'know. I would love to give an old friend some lenience, but unfortunately..."
You rub your forehead. "It's not your fault. But I also have a job to do." You shouldn't have left him alone at the tavern. Why the hell were you so reckless?
"I understand."
When the two of you arrive at Headquarters, you have to stop for a moment - you've only been here a few times when you were younger. Mostly in handcuffs because you were getting into trouble you shouldn't have, and what was cute misbehavior that could be let off with some scolding would become more trouble later on. You're not sure why you were such a hellion at the time, but it always made you feel somewhat better in the end for whatever reason. The feeling would die when your mother would give you a tired look the next morning, after spending a day or an evening in a cell.
Sometimes Kaeya would bail you out, with many questions but never quite asked.
You used to be very angry back then.
It's as grand as you remember it but emptier. Quieter, your footsteps echo along the walls, and you think that there's ghosts that linger around. Someone is leaving as you're entering - a woman who seems to not care about your existence nor Lawrences'. Up some winding stairs, to the second floor and down the hallway, the pair of you come to an office door that's cracked open and some light flooding out.
A few sharp knocks on Lawrences' end and a smooth voice bids him to enter.
"Captain Kaeya," Lawrence starts and you freeze in the door way as a familiar periwinkle eye looks right at you. "We have a case of a missing persons."
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This is CQL only as I haven’t read the novel or watched the donghua. I REPEAT: THIS IS CQL ONLY.
Hi! So it’s been established here that lwj did A LOT of significant things that the story chose not to show.
Written in that post is: Lan Wangji saved A-Yuan and Wen Qing and that’s why he was late at the Battle in Nevernight.
There are a few more things that I want to say:
Lan Wangji spoke up for the Wens. He openly expressed that the Wens should not be executed.
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For those who are saying that Lan Wangji is just as useless as anyone who did nothing for the Wens, then stop. Because HE DID something. You could argue that he didn’t do enough. But what else do you want him to do? Battle the Jins himself and lose his life? Point is, if you check the deleted scenes, Lan Wangji, in fact, DID battle the Jins (even the Lans!!!) in order to save Wen Qing’s life. He’s so much better than those who literally did nothing and let the Jins do as they please.
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This was already stated in the linked post above but I’m still gonna put it here: Lan Wangji saved A-Yuan BEFORE Wei Wuxian died. Not after.
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When he saw A-Yuan, he didn’t have the arm injury he got from the Battle in Nevernight. When he was defending the Burial Mounds, you can see the blood on his right arm, which indicates the presence of the injury he got from the Battle in Nevernight. So this means that he saved A-Yuan before he got his arm injury— before the war— before Wei Wuxian died. So for those who’s saying that Lan Wangji only redeemed himself after Wei Wuxian’s resurrection, you’re wrong. He has always been on Wei Wuxian’s side since day one.
I’ve seen people say that Lan Wangji probably didn’t have any contribution during A-Yuan’s growth since he was recovering. Wow, idk where they got that from. They must know better than A-Yuan then?
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A-Yuan openly expressed that he adores Lan Wangji. When he and Wen Ning reunited, he kept talking about Lan Wangji. A-Yuan himself said that Lan Wangji is his father/brother figure, which means that HE IS a big part of A-Yuan growing up. Look, just because the director didn’t show it, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Who says that a man can’t show love and affection to a child just because he’s injured?
Lan Wangji leaving Wei Wuxian at the end wasn’t uncharacteristic. He doesn’t deserve the hate he gets because of that.
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Y’all hated Lan Wangji for leaving Wei Wuxian in the end. It’s probably censorship, I agree. But for me, it wasn’t uncharacteristic. I wish you all to stop being WangXian-centered for a while and think of what just happened. Lan Xichen is currently experiencing a very devastating heartbreak. I think the reason why Lan Wangji couldn’t leave with Wei Wuxian was because he wanted to take care of his brother. Y’all hated MDZS Lan Wangji for leaving Lan Xichen just like that when he’s experiencing what Lan Wangji experienced 13/16 years ago but now that CQL Lan Wangji prioritized Lan Xichen, y’all still hated him? Whatever Lan Wangji does, he always gets hated, doesn’t he?
Lan Wangji is very dedicated to Wei Wuxian but let’s not forget that he still has a life outside Wei Wuxian. The reason why he was able to let Wei Wuxian go on his own was because Wei Wuxian’s life wasn’t in immediate danger anymore. He wasn’t a target anymore since the entire world probably heard of the news already that Wei Wuxian was actually innocent. Lan Wangji had to take care of his brother. He had to take up the role of being the sect leader. And he became the Chief Cultivator, which majority of you think is uncharacteristic. I don’t really have a say about him being the Chief Cultivator but please stop limiting Lan Wangji to what you’ve seen him capable of doing. He is surely capable of growth.
FOR THE LAST TIME: THIS IS CQL ONLY.
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manicplank · 1 day
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The Color Pink (Part 15)
Aaaaa sorry this took so long. This piece has been written for a while so I decided to post it since I've been too busy to write more. Sorry if it sucks.
Theodore awoke in the morning to see that his room was spotless. All the laundry was put away, and his army of half empty water bottles was gone. He tried to sit up, but it was too painful. He never picked up his painkillers from the pharmacy, so he had no means of relief. He groaned as his shoulder throbbed. Hazel appeared in the doorway almost instantly. “Theo,” she spoke calmly even though she was very worried. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he mumbled. “I can’t get up. It hurts too much.”
“Oh, okay, um…” She walked over to him in a hurry. She took the pillows out from underneath his right side. He winced in pain. “Sorry!” She was a little unsure of what to do. She went over to his other side and placed her hands underneath his neck and back. She slowly pulled up, but this only rolled him over. He cried out in pain again. She began to stress. She went to the foot of the bed. “Give me your hand.” She reached out and grabbed his left hand. “I’m gonna pull you up, and you’re gonna try and sit up at the same time, okay?”
“Mhm…”
“Okay, on three. One… Two… Three!” She strained as she pulled him up. He winced again, but he was sitting upward, so their mission was accomplished. She went over to him and held his face. “You okay?”
“No. I’m in pain.”
“Um… Okay, uh… I don’t know what to do.”
“They sent a script for painkillers over to the pharmacy. They should be ready by now. We need to go pick them up.”
“Oh, right! Good idea. Do you need help getting dressed?”
“No. I’ll just go like this.” He was dressed in sweatpants and an NTV t-shirt.
Hazel put her hands on her hips. “Really? Just like that?”
“Dude, I’m in too much pain to give a shit right now. I’m not walking down a red carpet. I was gonna send you to get them, anyways.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah. I was gonna wait here… Is that okay?”
“Isn’t your wallet still on set?”
“Shit, that’s right. Fuck, okay, um…” He sighed, “Ugh, I guess I’ll have to go with.”
“Plus, I need to pack a bag with some clothes. I’m going to stay here for a couple days to help you out.”
“Hazel, you don’t have to-”
She repeated herself in a firmer, more assertive tone, “I am going to stay here for a couple of days to help you out.”
He huffed. “Fine.”
“You don’t have to pity me, Theodore. I’m helping you because you need it. I’m helping you because I want to.” She went up to him and gently cupped his face in her hands. “Okay?”
He smiled. “Okay.”
She gave him a gentle peck on the lips. “You sure you don’t want to put any better pants on?”
“I’m sure. I’m comfortable.”
“Okay,” she rolled her eyes playfully, “whatever you say.” She stuck her hand out. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”
As she helped him to his feet, there was a knock at the door. He sighed, “Stay here, I’ll get it.” He dragged his feet as he walked. The entire right side of his body was stiff and sore. An ache radiated through his body with each step. The door knocked again. “SHUT UP!” He screamed in frustration as he walked up to the door. He opened it up; it was Dougie.
Theodore inhaled deeply and huffed with frustration. “What do you want?”
“Hi, boss. I have your keys and your wallet.” Dougie handed them to him.
“Oh… Cool… Thanks…”
“The set manager wants you to call him.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “What does he want?”
“He wants to know how you’re doing. We all do.”
“I’m in pain. Shout it through a megaphone and make sure everybody hears.”
“Yeah, but-”
Theo slammed the door in Dougie’s face. Hazel had come down the stairs to see that Noise had his wallet and keys in hand.
“Who was that?” She asked.
“It was Dougie. He dropped off my stuff.”
“Oh, okay, good. That’s one less stop we have to make.”
“Yep. Let’s go, I’m in a lot of pain and I want to go back to bed.”
Theo waddled behind Hazel as they headed out.
-
After everything was said and done, Theodore was completely exhausted. He had dozed off on the way back. He picked his head up once the car stopped. Hazel helped him up and out of his seat. She grabbed his hips from behind and guided him to the door.
“I’m not drunk,” he said, “you don’t have to lead me.”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“You don’t have to baby me.”
“Shush. Let’s just get you inside so you can take a painkiller and go to bed. You need all the rest you can get.”
Theodore rolled his eyes and walked up to the door. Hazel unlocked and opened it for him. He dragged his feet as he walked in, holding the door for her to walk in behind him. He plopped onto the couch and kicked his legs up. His body was too tired to move anymore. Hazel hurriedly grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen and gave him the painkiller. He swallowed it without hesitation. She twiddled her fingers together as he laid his head down.
“Do you want me to take you up to your room?” She asked.
“Mmph,” he mumbled. “No. I’ll stay down here. That way if I need anything, I can just get it myself. I won’t have to go up and down the stairs a million times.”
“Hmm… Oh! Hold on, stay here.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere anyways.”
She rushed up to his room and grabbed a pillow as well as his fuzzy pink “blankie”. She came back down to see him already dozing off. “Here,” she tucked the pillow under his head and spread the blanket across him. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and he smiled. “Will you be okay if I leave?”
“You’re leaving?” He whined.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, but I have to go home eventually.”
He chuckled softly. “I’m just teasing you.”
She rolled her eyes with a smile. She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’ll be back. I have to pack some clothes and such.”
“Okay.”
“Call me if you need me, okay?”
“Okay.”
She cuffed his cheek and pecked him on the lips as goodbye.
-
She had to go through The Slum as she headed home. While she did, she was stopped by someone calling to her. She turned around to see The Vigilante running up to her as fast as possible. He looked incredibly disheveled as if he had seen the devil. “Hazel,” he shouted in a huff. “Hazel, you’re alive!” He stopped hard enough to leave skid marks from his boots. He huffed and puffed as he tried to catch his breath.
“Oh, hi Vigi,” she greeted.
“Where…” He sighed. “Where have you been?! Is everything okay?!”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I haven’t seen you in a couple days, and your cafe has been closed. I was worried sick!”
“Sorry. I should’ve left a note on the door or something. I ended up closing early once I was done with the NTV order the other day. Something came up.”
“What happened?”
“Well, um… I don’t think it’s any of your business, but… The Noise got injured at work. He needs some help taking care of himself.”
The Vigilante rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, big celebrity man can’t take care of himself.”
“No, seriously! His shoulder is all messed up. It’s his right shoulder, and he’s right handed. He can’t do much.”
The Vigilante still looked doubtful. “Well,” he sighed disgruntledly. “I suppose your cafe will be closed for a while…”
“Hm… I never thought about that. That’s going to be an issue… I’m already a little behind on my rent.”
“Yeah, well, you know how Pizzaface is about money.”
Her shoulders tensed up as she imagined the giant floating pizza being angry at her. He was quite intimidating naturally. She didn’t want to know what he was like when he was angry. Closing the cafe to take care of The Noise was going to cost her in the long run, but he had no one else to depend on. She chewed on the tips of her fingers nervously. How was she going to make this work? She was worried about Theodore, but she was also worried about losing her career. Regardless, she wanted to take care of him. The Vigilante was snapping in her face as she came to.
“Hazel? You okay?”
“Oh! Yeah, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment.” She chuckled nervously.
“You look like a deer in headlights.”
“I’m fine. I have to go.” She turned around and rushed off.
“Hazel, wait-” The Vigilante tried to catch her attention again, but she was already gone.
-
Once she got home, she was stuck. She was torn between taking care of The Noise or taking care of her cafe. She shook her head and went into her room to start packing clothes and accessories. She figured she would take care of him for one more night as she thought about how she could work things out. She tried to keep it out of her mind. She wanted to get back to Noise as soon as possible. Knowing him, she was afraid he might do something stupid. Once she was all packed up, she hustled back over to The Noise’s. She couldn’t shake off her anxiety, and she wanted to get there as soon as possible so she could talk to him about it.
-
Hazel used the spare key to go through the backdoor of Theodore’s home. She walked into the living room to see him still zonked out on the couch. Those painkillers knocked him out, she thought. She slowly walked up to him and gently nudged his arm. “Theo?” He was out cold. For a moment, she feared that he was dead, even though she knew how irrational that thought was. She nudged him a little harder. His eyes slowly peeled open.
“Oh,” he muttered, “you’re back.”
“Yeah, hey, um…” She spoke frantically.
He let out a groan as he stretched then picked his head up. “Are you okay? You seem… upset.”
“Yeah. I mean, no. Well, kind of.”
He slowly sat up on his own. “Come here, sit.”
Hazel sat on the couch and twiddled with her thumbs. “So, um… I have to talk to you about something.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh… So… I gave it some thought and-”
Theodore’s heart sank. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen. He was worried she had gotten overwhelmed and was going to leave him.
“- I’m not quite sure I’ll be able to take care of you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t take care of you and run the cafe at the same time.”
He shrugged. His worry suddenly faded. “Then take care of the cafe.”
“But you can’t take care of yourself.”
“Right…”
They sat in silence for a moment. Hazel felt insanely guilty.
“Hey,” Theo broke the silence, “I have an idea.”
“Hm?” Hazel looked at him with an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
“What if, and hear me out here,” he put his free hand on her shoulder. “What if I took care of you, too?”
“What… What are you talking about?”
“What if I helped you out financially while you help me? Like, what if I paid you for taking care of me?”
“What?! Theodore, no! I’d feel so guilty!”
“Please. Let me help you.”
They made eye contact for a moment. Hazel took a deep breath. “Okay.”
Theo smiled and gave her a quick smooch. “Relax. We can make this work. Everything will be okay. Anything you need, I will take care of. Okay?”
“Okay.” Hazel’s eyes were glazed over with tears. She wasn’t expecting him to react in such a way.
“You look like you’re going to cry.”
Hazel’s lower lip quivered as she nodded.
“No,” he pulled her in for a gentle hug. He wrapped his left arm around her as tight as he could. “No tears.” He kissed her cheek as she whined and shed a few tears into his chest. She sat up and wiped her tears away with her sleeve.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m just stressed.”
“I know. It’s okay. You can stay here as long as you need to.”
“Okay. I mean, I’ll have to grab more clothes and things. I only packed enough for a couple days.”
“That’s fine. Everything’s fine, okay? Stop worrying.”
“Okay.”
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klaprisun · 1 day
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One Sunny Day
(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)
Chapter 14
The sound of seagulls floods the open, unpolluted air of Pelican Town. Summer has finally arrived, which means I have to grow this season's crops. A trip to Pierre's shop is in dire need since I also need to replenish my food supply.
The jingle above the door announces my arrival, causing Pierre to look up from his counter and give me a greeting nod. I shoot back a casual wave and disappear into the aisles.
"I knew you'd be here, farmer." Haley gave me a sly smile. She was apparently waiting for my arrival.
"Well hello there pretty lady, how'd you know I'd be here?" I throw my hands in my pockets and broaden my shoulders. She blushes at my little comment.
"Well, last season we ran into each other here around this time when you needed seeds. I may have waited around today to see if you'd show. I want to know what kind of crops you are growing this season," she responds.
"Uh huh...?" I give her a look of suspicion, unsure if she is telling the truth.
"No really! I don't want anything else I promise...," I watch her look me up and down quickly, "scouts honor!" she puts two fingers together in the air instead of the three.
I cover my mouth quickly to stop me from laughing out, but I don't do a good job because I end up letting out a few chuckles.
"I think your fingers are saying otherwise," I say.
A look of confusion crosses her face.
"Not that three fingers is too many or anything..." That finally makes her clue in to what I was laughing about and throws her hand back to her side. Her face has gone beat red now.
She turns to face the shelf of seeds and proceeds to change the subject, "what seeds are we starting with. Oh, how 'bout some melons." She takes a few packs of melon seeds off the shelf and places them into my basket.
As she continues to pick out the seeds for me, I cross my arms and lean against the shelf. She has been chit-chatting away to me as she places things into my basket, not noticing I haven't said a word. She hasn't even noticed the look of adoration I have been giving her this entire time.
"-summer is usually best for sunflowers, which are like my favorite thing ever, but they also grow in fall too," she rambles on. However, that sentence makes me perk up.
"Oh yeah? You really like sunflowers?"
She nods her head aggressively.
"Hm," is all I respond with. She didn't put any sunflower seeds into my basket. Instead she moved on to the blueberries and tossed those in.
We start moving down the aisles of Pierre's store, her rambling on about whatever she can think of with me trailing right behind her like a little puppy dog. She has filled my basket to the brim with everything she has decided I should get. I haven't stopped her from putting even one thing in.
She suddenly stops in her tracks, almost causing me to bump into her. She abruptly spins around to face me. "Why do you call me 'pretty lady'?"
"Can I not call you that?"
"No no no it's not that. I'm just wondering why. Do you think I am pretty?" her eyes are twinkling up at me while she waits for her response.
"I think you're beautiful," I responded genuinely, looking down at her captivating, blue eyes.
Her mouth opens slighting to say something, but then she closes it. She keeps repeating the same process as she thinks of the right words she wants to say.
"Why have you been so nice to me since you have gotten here? I have been nothing but mean to you and you don't deserve any of it. I'm so sorry," she wipes a tear from her eye.
"You aren't being mean to me now, are you?"
"No but-"
"Unless you are going to walk out on me again without explaining why?" I try teasing. I reach my hand up and brush away another stray tear from her cheek.
"Maybe," she chuckles sadly.
"Alright I'll make way." Chuckling along with her, I move to stand off the side, going along with the bit.
"I'm sorry again for doing all of that and constantly walking out on you when we are together. It's just... I have been feeling... weird?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are we never going to talk about the day at the spa?" she blurts out.
My breath catches in my throat and I start choking on air, breaking into a fit of coughs. "You remember that?" I managed to get out.
"Surprisingly,  considering I drank that whole bottle. There are some bits I don't remember, but I remember enough."
"Is this why you wanted to catch me at the store today?"
"I had promised you there was nothing more to me being here. I just happened to bring it up now."
We stand there awkwardly, none of us knowing what to say.
"I'm really sorry I put you in that situation. I'm also sorry you had to see me like that. I had just gone there to clear my head with all my confusing thoughts and then you happened to show up and..." she trails off.
"And then you were telling me you and Alex go there to screw around, taking your top off, giving me a massage and hitting on me," I finished for her. She winces and her shoes suddenly became very interesting to her. I tilt my head and wait to see what she has to say.
"Sorry..." she whispers.
"That happened a lot to me in my high school years. Girls would get plastered, think they are into girls, then try to hit on me or even try to kiss me when they are in that state. I say 'think' because all of them I've seen on social media are with a dude now. Who knows, maybe they ARE into girls and just continue to suppress it. I hope they are all happy with their choices." I give a little shrug like it's no big deal.
Haley has a look of horror on her face. She brings her hand on top of her head, smooths back her hair and puts her other hand on her hip.
"I can't believe I acted like that, oh my Yoba." she puts her face into her hands and takes a deep breath.
"Don't worry, I won't tell Alex. I know you guys aren't together right now, but just in case you guys get back together or anything..." I give her a reassuring pat on her shoulder.
She raises her face from her hands and gives me the most judgmental, but sympathetic look and starts chuckling. "Respectfully...you are really dumb, Danny."
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not-poignant · 1 year
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Looking forward to the new chapter of UtB! Also I learn a lot hearing your thoughts on fandom culture, and I was wondering why you think puritanism is getting stronger? Lately I’ve experienced it a lot both online and irl.
Hi anon,
I could write like a 10,000 word essay on why I think moral puritanism is getting stronger in the world, and how that intersects with increased moral panic, and 'anti' or fancop behaviour among fandom.
But I think there's more than one reason, and that at the centre of it, is the radicalisation of political extremes alongside the disdain for human life and education in the USA specifically. In non English-speaking cultures, antis are often considered a uniquely American phenomenon, for example. (They're not, but I do think some of the problems start there).
And from there it's necessary to look at:
The high presence of evangelist religion and their millions in USA politics in particular, and the influence this has on the news and government systems from the top down, affecting legislation, what we see on the media, what gets censored, who gets impacted (SESTA/FOSTA etc.) and so on. When companies like Paypal or similar say they won't support certain sites because they don't support sex workers or explicit artwork, we see extremist perspectives being normalised into the mainstream. Puritanism becomes baked into the system, and accepted as normal. And it has a domino effect, taking one thing away usually means to another thing being taken away, and by 'one thing' I usually mean like... equality, access to basic human rights, and more.
The presence of certain billionaire TERFs in UK politics actively working to destroy legislation over there gives a platform to hateful, bigoted extremists of all kinds, including Nazis (as seen in Australia recently, during a TERF event where Nazis turned up in open support). Also, I'd like to add that a lot of anti/fancop thinking is generally SWERF, anti-kink and eventually TERF in nature, and often homophobic and transphobic even when it's perpetuated by queer folk.
A long-term attack (we're talking over several decades now) on education (especially the humanities and any area that teaches critical thinking) including gutting the funding to libraries, colleges, high schools, primary schools and not increasing the pay of teachers, decreasing the general intelligence of US citizens in IQ tests across multiple metrics (except spatial reasoning). This, combined with the lack of emphasis on teaching nuance and critical thinking, means you get people primed to make didactic, black-or-white decisions and often are prone to radicalisation and black-or-white thinking. There's an increasing lack of ability to understand complex or even reasonably moderately complex thinking tasks. A great example of this was re: anti-vaxxers who said 'if masking works so well, why do you need vaccines' because there was a complete inability to understand that just because something works well, doesn't mean it works 100% of the time. There was a consistent inability too, to grok things like the swiss cheese model. That's not the only reason people are anti-vaxxers and there are some extremely smart people who are anti-vaxxers, but among broader populations, a lack of basic appreciation of nuance and risk mitigation in health was a huge issue. (And it's fairly easy to see this happening in many fandom discussions when we discuss how racism in fiction is generally not great, but that rape in fiction does not cause rape in reality.)
I know the above paragraph is long and unwieldy but it doesn't actually come close to capturing a lot of my thoughts on this so slafkjdsa it'll have to do though. The tl;dr is 'the government said philosophy and critical thinking isn't worth money, so a lot of people don't know how to do it, and anyone who can do it is often attacked or viewed with suspicion' (see also: The increasing suspicion and hostility towards experts in their field x.x). (Oh see also: A lot of people thinking YouTube videos count as 'valid research' for their viewpoints, and a lot of folks just...not ever learning how to research in general).
Something something social media privileging inflammatory and provocative takes as well as clickbait etc. encouraging people to often say things in the worst or least nuanced way possible.
The systemic attacks on democratic processes in the USA (and the UK and Australia and many other places).
The loudest and most obnoxious voices are often the people saying the stupidest shit. As in: It will feel like puritans are everywhere (and there's definitely more of them), but they're also just louder and getting more attention than they used to. It's misleading. Anti-vaxxers are actually a tiny minority for example, and antis are a minority in fandom, they're just...the loudest and the most willing to try and murder real people to defend the rights of fictional characters.
Er so. That's some of it anyway. There's more, absolutely, because I could talk about the presence of puritanism in a lot of levels of our experience/s, whether you're religious or not.
It's frustrating writing about this because I fall into the same trap of knowing that I can't talk about this in as nuanced a way as I want to, even if I get to do it in 1000 words instead of like, a miserable amount of characters on Twitter. Anyone thinking 'but it's not always like that!' or 'but not in every situation!' like trust me, I know. But if I sat here caveating everything that deserves a good caveat this post would blow out even more.
Basically if you try to stop educating your people as much, don't teach them how to research, debate or learn (yes, you have to learn how to learn), and don't give them access to basic needs, and gut your democracy/s, and the people at the top believe a fictional being cares if they're virgins or not or have abortions or not, and you don't care if people commit genocide against the children of your nation because that's not as important as the right to kill them in a moment of anger..., and you create a world where the children of your nation are primed to develop PTSD due to the fear of being gunned down while learning, you create a really great environment for radicalisation, extremism, the safety and comfort of puritanism (i.e. following very strict rules in the hope of fixing what's wrong with the world) while people look for a solution to why they feel so empty and hopeless in their lives.
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gayfranzkafka · 3 days
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Sorry this is so funny Steely Dan has become my #3 most listened to artist in the past five years (since I've had this Spotify account) LMAO. taste <3
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steakout-05 · 2 months
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eeuuaghh i would like everyone to know that i apologise if i have not responded to your reblogs/mentions/posts on tumblr, i have really terrible social anxiety and for some reason people talking to me makes my nervous system think i'm being hunted for sport by a resident evil boss. sorry if i havent responded i'm not being rude i'm just having a panic attack :P
additionally: social anxiety is actually the reason why a lot of my old posts from late 2022 had weird spacing and spelling mistakes. i was too anxious to type properly
#sorry this seems like a random thing to post but it has been bugging me for a little bit now and i want to post it#and by a little bit i mean the entire time i've been on this website#as for the reason i have social anxiety: i went to a really terrible high school full of dangerous people-#-who were literally like. the worst most bigoted people ever. not everyone there was bad of course but 90% of them were-#-and that stunted by social development by 5-6 years and now every time someone talks to me i feel like i'm about to get murdered#also primary school was. bad. the other kids could sniff out the autism in me and didn't like me for it#this post isn't directed towards anyone specifically but also it kinda is because there's a DM from someone-#-that i haven't responded to in literally 8 months and every time i think about it i get anxious#i'm sorry!!! i'm not trying to ignore you on purpose and i want to say something but my brain literally will not let me out of fear :(#i'm not used to getting talked to directly so every time i do my entire nervous system starts screaming and running in circles#it's kinda ridiculous because it's like. come on. why are you having a panic attack over a message on tumblr it's LITERALLY just words on-#-a screen what are you freaking out about. but also it's like hhhhh unfamiliar social situation scary. help.#unrelated to that but i am very worried about what people will think of me and like i know i really shouldn't worry about that-#-because i can't control what other people think of me and it really shouldn't be any of my or their business. but also-#-i have legitimate trauma that backs my fears up and every time someone is even slightly critical towards me my brain just goes-#-''see? it happened again i TOLD you it would happen again. idiot. you shouldn't have said anything''#and then i hide and cry and lay in bed thinking about how i'm going to die until i suddenly snap out of it and think-#-''wait hang on why should i care. i love being a weirdo on the internet why should i let my anxieties stop me''#and then it happens AGAIN and it's just a viscous cycle at that point#be silly on the internet -> detect slight criticism -> think everyone hates you again -> go back on your bullshit after 3 days of crying#and it makes sense because that exact same pattern happened to me countless times as a child.#be silly in school -> get made fun of for it -> get hated for it -> rinse and repeat until you think everyone is dangerous and they hate yo#if i could put it in a metaphor it would be like me being a little rabbit who thinks everyone is a scary wolf because of their big shadows-#-even though they're all also rabbits and i'm just paying attention to the scariest parts of them because i only know what wolves look like#trauma does fucked up things to your psyche lemmie tell you#social anxiety#anxiety disorder#i'm literally the ''too scared to order food'' stereotype except it's not a stereotype because it's real and every time i look at the 7/11-#-at my campus i go ''hm but what if they hate me for the food i buy there'' even though they're LITERALLY SELLING IT what is WRONG with me#anyway um. social anxiety sucks and i don't mean to not reply ro everyone who talks to me i am sorr y
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wileyfern · 1 year
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#9 for the music ask!!
Thank you Moon!! ❤️❤️
#9 - still feel.
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Trying to recognize myself when I feel I've been replaced When I'm furthest from myself (far away) Feeling closer to the stars (outer space) I've been invaded by the dark (can't escape) Trying to recognize myself when I feel I've been replaced
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dreamings-free · 2 years
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Everyone loves a nice surprise, don't they? When we heard that One Direction's Louis Tomlinson had released an 'Industrial Rock' single - that description courtesy of Rolling Stone - we'll be honest, we were bracing ourselves for the worst, but actually, to be fair, Out Of My System, which we're gonna suggest is more 'electro-punk' than 'industrial', won't have you gnawing off your hands in second-hand embarrassment.
It may be be unfair to make the comparison, but it's an undeniable fact that Tomlinson's solo career has yet to match the success enjoyed by his world-conquering bandmate Harry Styles: to be fair, very, very few pop stars can boast comparable sales, and given that One Direction have collectively sold over 70 million albums, it's unlikely that Tomlinson will be busking in the streets for pocket change any time soon. So why not explore darker sonic territory?
With his second solo album, Faith in the Future, set for release on November 11,  Tomlinson recently thanked fans, via Twitter, "for allowing me to make the music I want to make."
Out Of My System is certainly a departure for the 30-year-old singer. 
Ushered in with a distorted bass line, the song opens with the Doncaster-born singer singing 'Slowly / I never wanna go slowly / I only wanna go faster / Towards disaster every time' ahead of a riff-assisted chorus which wouldn't be out of place on singles by fellow Yorkshiremen Bring Me The Horizon or Yungblud. Verse two is even more angsty, with Tomlinson singing, 'Demons / I'm taking all of my demons / And putting them where I won't see them / Cos I just want to feel alive'
A bit of a departure from 'Baby, you light up my world like nobody else / The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed', isn't it?
Listen to the single below:
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We're not anticipating Tomlinson announcing a co-headlining tour with Ministry any time soon, but more of this and maybe a second stage booking at Download isn't out of the question...
LOUDER 17/10/22
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dadbots · 8 months
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August… time to get spooky.
#dadbots.txt#this has been in my draft for... almost a month. Yikes.#I’ve been dissociating hella hard these past months or something. swear I don’t remember time moving this fast. maybe it’s just me tbh.#idk what to say about July other than… boring? not much happened and I don’t really remember it if I’m honest. just. mm. shrugs.#best way to describe it LOL#been sleeping a LOT lately and I think it’s fatigue again. was it like anything before? no. not at that rate (yet) but just.#where you wanna sleep and sleep and sleep type of fatigue. you never feel rested and just gotta sleep it off kinda.#just one of those moments yknow.#it sucks. all I’m doing is letting the days pass me by and ‘missing out’ on living life when I could be enjoying it. but I lost interest -#- in doing so for months - years now due to personal health matters. And whaddya know - it came back again. after months of healing.#I'm pretty pissed as it does feel like a slap in the face. but you win some - you lose some. Gonna try and fight through it.#I wrote something at the beginning of august but that got deleted. Had a breakdown and thought huh. what a great way to start the month -#and now it's almost september. Just like that. What a month it's been. Stuck on what else to say but that really.#don't want to keep talking about depressing stuff as that's what i used to do and realized hey. maybe you should stop doing that so often#and not use it so casually in humor and/or stuff. Even though I reblog vents here n' all. but yknow.#maybe it is hypocritical. but that's not the point. Just want to reflect and see if i've changed since coming back to the web after a year.#not like it's going bad. just wished this year was a bit more optimistic. Last year was rough & i'm afraid this year will be another repeat#though I did come out to a family member this month and that was like a punch to the gut. Considering my status with them and all.#won't get into that. for now let's just say i'm not too close with them. An impulsive choice on my end but hey. it went well.#and that's what matters tbh. My younger self would've thought i was actually insane. like to even DO that? really?#shocking. I'm still not over that moment. Probably one of my biggest achievements this year.#I'll update this if anything else comes to mind. none of this make sense and that's ok. clearing my mind right now.#let's see what september has in store for me. Hopefully it'll get better as things slow down w/ winter on its way.#hope y'all enjoyed your summer. 🖤🤘🏽
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vsingers · 1 year
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i hate local japanese politicians specifically because of their damn talking vans
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