#I know it's not chronological but I spent too much time to care

[the-names-salomea]

Polish music - because it’s not only Chopin [LONG POST]

As it’s Polish Independence Day (11.11) and @redhatmeg​ came up with the idea of celebrating it by posting about Poland/Polish people, I decided to make a post about notable Polish composers, adding links to their most famous pieces.

- Stanisław Moniuszko (1819 - 1872)

Known as ‘the father of Polish national opera’, one of the best composers of Polish romanticism. His work is characterized by usage of Polish texts and inspiration from Polish folk. His most notable work include operas such as Halka, Straszny dwór and over 300 songs compiled in Śpiewnik Domowy.

Prząśniczka

Mazur from Halka

Mazur from Straszny Dwór

- Maria Szymanowska (1789 - 1831)

One of the first female composers in European history. Wrote over 100 piano pieces, including polonaise and nocturnes, preceeding Chopin. Toured extensively through Europe, inspiring other artists (Beethoven, Cherubini and Goethe dedicated pieces to her). Her salon in St. Petersburg was visited by prominent musicians, writers and painters of her time.

Nocturne in B flat Major

Świtezianka (based on Adam Mickiewicz’s work)

Polonaise in F Minor

- Michał Kleofas Ogiński (1765 - 1833)

Not only a composer, but also a diplomat and a politician. He took part in Kościuszko Uprising, Napoleonic War (he dedicated his only opera to him) and as a Russian senator he fruitlessly tried to convince tsar to reconstute Commonwealth.

Polonaise Pożegnanie z Ojczyzną

- Henryk Wieniawski (1835 - 1880)

Regarded as one of the greatest violinists in history, often called ‘a poet of violin’. He started composing his first pieces at the age of 13. His Violin Concerto No. 2  is second most-played violin pieces (after Paganini).

Scherzo-Tarantelle, op. 16

Violin Concerto No. 2

Polonaise de concert No. 1 in D major, Op. 4

- Ignacy Jan Paderewski (1860 - 1941)

Another composer - politician - not only did he convince Woodrow Wilson to add creating Polish independent State to his Fourteen Points, but also became Prime Minister of Poland. Had charisma he used both in politics and when giving concerts in Europe and the USA.

Menuet

Symphony in B Minor Polonia

Fragment from Manru, his only opera

- Karol Szymanowski (1882 - 1937)

Famous composer of the Young Poland period, exponent of Polish colourism. Being raised by Romantic music, he later got inspired by the Orient and Antique, and in his third period is characterized by using Polish folklore, in particular from Podhale. He was openly gay - one of his partner was a writer Jarosław Iwaszkiewicz, who wrote libretto to one of Szymanowski’s operas King Roger.  

Roxana’s aria from King Roger

Stabat Mater

Taniec zbójnicki from Harnasie

- Witold Lutosławski (1913 - 1994)

Regarded as one of the most greatest composers since Chopin. Known for his unconventional approach to music and using folklore as a natural reaction to ban on Polish culture under German occupation.

Musique funèbre

Five Songs

- Krzysztof Penderecki (1933 - 2020)

Avangarde composer, one of the follower of sonosim. His music often arouse uneasy feeling in a listener, like in his Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima. His music was used to movies such as The Exorcist, Kubrick’s The Shining or Wajda’s Katyń.

Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima

St Luke Passion

Lacrimosa from Polish Requiem

- Wojciech Kilar (1932 - 2013)

If you’ve ever watched Bram Stoker’s Dracula, The Pianist, Ziemia Obiecana/The Promised Land or Trędowata, you’ve heard his music.

Waltz from Trędowata

Vampire Hunters from Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Orgia from Ziemia Obiecana/The Promised Land

#11poland11 #polish music #I know it's not chronological but I spent too much time to care #also feel free to add anyone #święto niepodległości #Polish Independence Day #Poland #11 Listopada

[yumeka-sxf]

A chronological analysis on Twilight and Yor - Part 24

*This is part of an ongoing post series. If you missed the Introduction/Part 1, click here*

----------

When Twilight finds out that there's a bomb on the ship, he's at first torn about whether to intervene or not. This is an interesting situation for him because it's not a mission he was assigned to do, and intervening could run the risk of revealing himself to the SSS. But at the same time, not intervening and relying on the SSS being capable enough to take care of it, is risky, too.

If Twilight was the selfish, unfeeling spy he makes himself out to be, he would figure out a way to escape the ship with just himself, Yor, and Anya (of course he'd insist he's only taking them with him "for the mission"). He'd probably use one of the lifeboats like the eavesdropping assassin used, perhaps even contact WISE beforehand so they could pick him up. But we know that he's way too conscientious to let such a catastrophic event take place when he could have used his skills to prevent it. So, like his wife elsewhere on the ship, he makes the unselfish decision to help others even if it's a risk to himself. 

Later, Twilight has some final bouts of second-guessing regarding his decision when he picks up Anya at the daycare that night.

Rather than be proud of himself or even relieved that he was able to stop a potential crisis, he instead feels regret that he had to once again abandon his family…but his family is also part of his mission…so by averting the crisis, he saved them? But taking a vacation was also his mission, so does that mean his mission is to…not have a mission? Even I had trouble making sense of his thoughts here, but it's clear that the poor man still has a long way to go before he's not so unnaturally hung up about "missions." Rebecca Silverman on ANN neatly wraps up Twilight's cruise arc character development in an article here, to quote:

"…He wants to make sure the ship doesn't go down, but he also doesn't want to just abandon his child so he can go save it, and that's a distinction that hasn't been as clear in his mind before now. His little meltdown at the end is him fighting against the realization that this family isn't just a “mission” to him anymore; he's now a dad. This is beautifully shown when he catches Anya when she rolls off her bunk; not only is he attuned to her movements, but he cradles her for a moment instead of putting her down immediately. The smile on his face says that he cares, even if he's not comfortable with the idea."

Speaking of the aforementioned scene of Twilight catching Anya when she fell off the bunk bed, the anime adds this new footage of the early morning before the ship arrives at the resort island. Considering Twilight's doubts the night before, we see one of his rare, not-forced smiles, as he interacts with Anya.

Meanwhile, Yor is alone in her room treating her injuries. We know that she didn't sleep at all the night before since she was keeping watch over Olka's group the whole time. She then spent most of the following night in life or death struggles against various assassins, so she looks rightfully exhausted (and I'm sure the pain from her wounds disturbed what little time she was able to sleep).

While they wait for Yor at the island, Anya continues to show how much she has Twilight wrapped around her little finger – all she has to do is suggest that he's not acting like a "normal" dad would, and he immediately bursts into an awkward skip to try and prove to whoever's looking that, yes, he is just a dad having fun on vacation!

However, as soon as he realizes that Yor is there, his face reddens in embarrassment. He doesn't care if nearby strangers think he's acting like a silly, fun-loving dad, but it seems like he doesn't want Yor's view of him as a dignified, composed husband to be tarnished.

His look of concern when he notices that Yor's face is swollen is emphasized more in the anime…what could have been his first thought upon seeing that? However, when she tells him that despite City Hall's failed attempt to win over the couple, they were smiling in the end, he softens. Since the latter part of Yor's words here were not a lie, she was able to express them with genuine satisfaction, and Twilight picked up on her sincere feelings about the matter.

In fact, throughout their entire time on the island, Twilight gazes at Yor with more noticeable softness than he ever has before. From the aforementioned moment when she tells him that the couple were happy, to when she tells him how peaceful she feels watching Anya play with the sheep, and then at the very end of their excursion when he praises her for her hard work while carrying her and Anya back to the ship…Anya may have been right to call him out about missing Yor during the cruise. As I mentioned before, this is likely the longest time he's gone without seeing her since their "marriage," so this may be his subtle way of showing that he missed her.

At this point in the series, it's not hard to tell when Twilight's smile is his fake "Loid Forger" smile versus his real smile – Endo does a good job making the former look "forced," usually accompanied by his eyes being closed in a stiff squint to emphasize the phoniness, while in the latter case, his eyes are much more relaxed and his expression is more animated overall. Nightfall noticed this as well during her visit to the Forger house – how Twilight's real feelings seeped through the phony smile, particularly when his eyes relaxed.

Takuya Eguchi, Twilight's voice actor, also does a good job changing the pitch of his voice slightly when he's speaking as Loid Forger versus speaking his true feelings. If you compare how Twilight converses with Yor in this episode compared to, say, how he converses with Desmond during their encounter at Eden, the difference is very noticeable…even though, according to Twilight, both situations are "for the mission." In his mind, he shouldn't feel anything special for Yor compared to Desmond or anyone else he has to put on an act in front of. And yet, his voice and eyes convey otherwise.

It's been a while since the Forgers went on a family outing, so it was wonderful seeing them enjoy such a variety of activities together. What stood out to me the most as far as analyzing was Yor's difficulty riding the horse.

This may be more of a headcanon, but I feel like animals are uncomfortable around her because they can sense her insane physical strength even when she's not actively showing it. This could be why Kopi didn't put up any fight when she grabbed him, why all she had to do was glare at the German shepherd for him to run away, and why this horse doesn't want her riding him. It could also be why she's Bond's least favorite according to Endo in the fanbook. Also, Yor's fear of bugs makes sense since they're so tiny and quick, which makes them very difficult to take down from an assassinating perspective.

While Anya plays with the sheep at the petting zoo, Yor is finally able to fully relax for the first time in days, since she got the cruise assignment. She doesn't have to do anything in that moment besides watch Anya enjoying herself to the fullest in this lovely, peaceful little town. She tells Loid how peaceful she feels while also thinking to herself that she hopes this peace could last forever. Out of all the activities they did together, the reason this particular scene is so emphasized is because it perfectly portrays the reason Yor decided to keep being Thorn Princess back on the ship – so that children, whether her little brother Yuri, Anya, Gram, or whoever, can live freely and innocently in a peaceful world. And, when she expresses to Loid how peaceful she feels here, he says that he feels the same way.

As I just discussed, Twilight was not in "Loid Forger acting mode" here, so the reason he honestly agrees with her is because he's fighting for the same thing. Like I mentioned in Part 21, Twilight and Yor continue to do their ugly, thankless jobs in order to secure the peace of future generations.

When it's time for them to head back to the ship, Yor's exhaustion finally gets the best of her, forcing Twilight to carry both her and Anya in his arms on the way back. While he's a bit perturbed at first since some onlookers were snickering at him, it didn't take long for him to give into his feelings in that moment – namely, his genuine appreciation of Yor's sacrifice so that Anya could have a wonderful day with both parents. Though it's not a long scene, I think this is one of the most significant scenes for their relationship thus far (along with the post-Fiona date). Why is it so significant? Because there was no reason for Twilight to put on any Loid Forger acting in that moment, since he wasn't conversing with nor being scrutinized by anyone.

So why would he give that soft smile followed by such affectionate, comforting words as "お疲れ様/otsukaresama"? (this can be translated in many ways, but generally it's what you say to thank someone for their hard work). The answer is because it's something he truly felt...he knows all about being overworked and tired, yet Yor still made the effort to spend the day with them to make Anya happy. And, as her father (or "for the mission" in his language), he was grateful for that (now if only he knew the sacrifice she made on the larger scale!)

Many scenes in the cruise arc, as well as the resort island episode in particular, showcase that Twilight has a distinct relationship with both Yor and Anya, despite the fact that, in his mind, both relationships should be "fake." He's extremely casual with Anya, not just in his speech (more apparent in the Japanese version) and he doesn't feel any qualms about scolding her when necessary, being strict with her studies, or criticizing her weird little comments and actions that confuse him. The way he acts with Anya is more similar to how he acts with Franky than anyone else. But he's practically the opposite with Yor – despite her actions also confusing him at times, he never scolds, criticizes, or expresses disapproval of what she does. He also always speaks to her politely and, unlike most other people with whom he puts on his Loid Forger act, she's more often on the receiving end of his genuine smiles instead of his fake ones. It could be that because Anya is a child, he feels like he doesn't have to worry so much about acting in ways that would make her suspicious. Also because she's a child, she's less likely to take offense if he lets some of his negative emotions slip out. On the other hand, he knows from both the "post-Yuri's first visit" and "post-Fiona's first visit" instances that Yor has very sensitive self-esteem, so that could be why he's thoughtful about how he interacts with her, always speaking with courtesy and encouragement. He also knows the struggles she's had to go through in the past and how much she genuinely cares about Anya, which is another reason why she brings out his "softness" more often than anyone else.

In a way, Twilight's relationship with both Yor and Anya bring out a side of him that he may not realize he wants to strive for – with Anya, he can be relaxed and can drop the "nice guy" act in favor of being an exasperated but still caring father. And with Yor, he can become the polite, compassionate husband naturally, because he knows that many of her struggles and values are the same as his…he's realizing more and more about how much she sacrifices for others, and that can't help but resonate in him whenever he interacts with her. Perhaps one day he can become these personas and drop the "Loid Forger" and "Twilight" acts for good.

Continue to Part 25 ->

<- Return to Part 23

#sxf #spy family #spy x family #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #twiyor #sxf meta #sxf analysis #loid x yor #loidyor

[sarnai4]

Opening Up

About opening up...Dagur kinda doesn't. (Spoilers ahead)

This is something I've seen some fans talk about where they say Dagur would reveal personal information easily. I see where they're coming from with this. Looking at Dagur, I'd expect that too. He's outspoken, emotional, unrestrained, etc. He seems like someone who could randomly say, "I had a good cry today," and it wouldn't be anything surprising. HOWEVER, that changes for me when I look at the proof from the show. If Dagur was half as open about things as this would imply, then we wouldn't be forced to speculate so much about his past and the things that have happened to him. In another case of me spending too much time studying Dragons (probably. Still worth it), I tried to collect all the examples of Dagur sharing information. They have something in common. Each time, there's a specific reason. I'll go in chronological order.

In "Enemy of My Enemy," Dagur tells Hiccup how revenge can make you do things you didn't think you were capable. This was an interesting moment of really getting to see how the villain we saw Dagur be wasn't who he always was. It even shocked him how extreme his actions became. This has the potential to be some heavy stuff, but he didn't just outright say it for fun. He said it because he saw Hiccup going down that same path. This isn't, "I can't believe the things I've done and really need someone to talk to." It's, "I see you following in my footsteps and they led me in a terrible direction. I don't want that for you."

It takes Dagur F.O.R.E.V.E.R. to admit he didn't kill Oswald. Even as a good guy, he doesn't say it easily. In "Family on the Edge," he implies that something Heather said out of the sent her adrift, killed their dad, and tried to kill them list wasn't true, but he doesn't just say it. He writes it in the letter, admitting that and how he was worried that the other Berserkers wouldn't follow him otherwise. If he wanted to do it for emotional release reasons, he could've just said the first time or even told her way back when he thought they were on the same side. Rather than that, he puts it in a letter so that her final relative won't be quite as bad as she thinks he is.

In "Searching for Oswald...And Chicken," Dagur has two moments. First, he tells Heather how he's spent most of his life in varying stages of existential crisis. (Just wow for that. Wish we had heard more about it because that is quite the emotional load he nonchalantly dropped) Again, this clearly isn't to get something off his chest because it's not even something he brings up again. He just tells her so that she'll have proof he knows what is meaningless, hopefully getting her to stop throwing herself in harm's way to find Oswald. Later, he tells Hiccup he keeps anger, frustration, and rage to himself. This also isn't to share so much as to prove he can keep secrets and deserves to be trusted with the location of Vanaheim.

Then, we have "In Plain Sight." There, we find out he used to get bullied. He waited until as much of the last moment as possible to tell Fishlegs and Snotlout this. They had already flown from the Edge to Berserker Island and were literally walking down to meet Ansson. So, I don't think it's him wanting to share sensitive information. It's him knowing they're about to be there with the bully and since Ansson doesn't care about playing nice, it's going to be obvious that he used to bully him. This is just softening the blow a little by telling them first. Didn't really help, though, since they still laughed at him being called "Dainty." (Not cool even though I get how weird it would be to hear someone call him that)

Unless I'm mistaken, that's everything. I don't think there's another time when Dagur reveals something personal. Each of these had some deeper purpose. This is why I don't believe Dagur would start speaking about his past traumas without a prompt. Now, I'll say I do enjoy having him talk about this in stories and I support other writers who do. I just believe it takes a little nudge. He's not going to sit down next to someone and talk about his time in jail. He has literally never spoken about his time in jail in the entire show except the first RTTE episode to say that he spent 3 years thinking about Hiccup. So, it actually leaves a lot of room to be creative with what his past even has first, then what situation would get him to spill the beans.

#HTTYD #RTTE #Dagur the Deranged #Past #Trauma #I think most can agree he has PTSD #We just don't know the specifics of why and I want to know #Heck we still don't know why he sent Heather adrift #I need answers😭 #He's winking because he knows his lips are sealed forever

[bangtanfancamp]

Oh Christmas Tree | KNJ

∴ summary: you’re looking for a fresh start and a Christmas tree when you unintentionally stumble across the worlds most attractive dimples and the sweet, gigantic, bumbling man attached to them

Alt: Namjoon + a Christmas tree farm + his best friend’s girlfriend’s little sister = the best Yuletide he never saw coming

∴ masterlist

∴ part of the breakfast with bangtan series

∴ pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader, guest appearances by cultivating a life with you Hoseok x his y/n

∴word count: 10.8k

∴ rating: mature, 18+

∴genre: fluff, strangers to lovers. slice of life, Christmas romance

∴warnings: flirting, woke adjacent Christmas tree banter? sexual tension, joon is a big man (we all know this), a few subtle pov shifts- but only at already marked breaks in the story beats (should be easy to follow. Hopefully), subtle daddy kink, joonie has big boobies and he likes boobies, what was meant to be really soft smut that got a little out of hand honestly

∴author’s note: This started as a little scribble in March of 2021 that only involved the scene of y/n and Namjoon bantering about Christmas trees. I’ve been neck deep in 30k+ monster fic drafts for months and I just wanted to write something quick & fluffy so here we are. This y/n is the sister Hoseok’s girlfriend visits in cultivating a life with you. The stories are totally independent of each other but technically- chronologically- this takes place two winters later. Not meant to be hallmark movie related. I honestly just love the idea of Namjoon in one of his tiny little beanies getting tongue tied in the snow while surrounded by Christmas trees. Enjoy! Please let me know if you like it, if you like :) also… this is not proofread yet. I stayed up all night writing this and didn’t sleep. So I’m gonna leave this here, crash, and come back later to edit and add my copious italics, as I do.

───────────────────────

“My gosh, are these Christmas trees in outer space?”

You’d spent the last hour and a half being squashed in the backseat of your sister’s Mini Cooper. Your knees were beginning to ache.

“Oh don’t be a grinch, silly. We’re almost there,” your sister twisted to smile back at you from her spot in the passenger seat.

Her pink mittened hand was happily resting on her boyfriend Hoseok’s slim thigh. He reached down to tap out the rhythm to “walking in a winter wonderland” across the back of her knuckles as she beamed back at you, and you felt a little bit of your irritation melt away. It was nice to see her so happy. They were sweet to each other. It was lovely for them, but it wouldn’t help straighten out the kink in your back.

Who takes a coupe to pick up a live Christmas tree?

Hoseok caught your eye in the rear view mirror and smiled in apology as you shifted. He was as nice as your sister, just as keen to accommodate, and as soft for her as you were, if not more. His car was in the shop and yours hadn’t arrived yet. You’d driven a u-haul here from three states away a week and a half ago, settling down to take root during a holiday season best celebrated in an established home like the smart planner you were (not).

But for once, you didn’t care. Or at least, you were learning not to.

You’d spent too much of your life stuck in places you didn’t even want to be, taking life too seriously. Spent too many of the last few years feeling stagnant and like you were running out of time all at once. So when the opportunity arose, you took the first chance you got to move here. To be closer to your sister, to be somewhere where the air felt lighter, where you could be whoever you wanted to be.

And today, you wanted to be the owner of a live Christmas tree.

Give yourself something to smile at in your studio that currently consisted of bare stucco walls and aesthetic cardboard box piles.

When you’d mentioned it over the phone, your sister had known just the place.

“It’s the cutest little Christmas tree farm! Me and hobi get our tree there every year! They even have a hot cocoa stand up front for you to sip on while you pick your tree out. It’s owned by the sweetest family. One of our friends works there too. Oh you have to meet him!”

Your sister had gushed it all in one breath.

“Have to?”

“Absolutely. Not even a question. Get dressed! Me and hobi’ll pick you up in 10!”

That was that. You’d bundled up to the best of your ability, (Your wardrobe was not prepared for how chilly the winters got up here) and twenty minutes later, your sister and a blushing Hoseok were waiting for you in the parking lot in their jolly little holiday mobile.

Your sister had added reindeer antlers and a red nose to her Mini Cooper and jingle bells to the door handles. There was a set of white vinyl stickers with the silhouette of Santa’s sleigh and all nine reindeer plastered on the back window and a sprig of mistletoe-that she’d probably grown herself- twirling from the rear view mirror. Somehow she’d even gotten the horn to match the melody of “we wish you a merry Christmas.”

You’d have to ask how later.

The ride ended up being cozy enough. Now you were just eager to get out and get the feeling back in your toes. Hoseok tipped the driver's side seat forward for you to crawl out from the back. The second the icy wind slapped against your cheek you wondered why you thought going out in the cold would bring any sort of circulation back to your toes. You rolled your eyes at yourself and chuckled when you caught sight of the purplish tinge along Hoseok’s throat peeking out just over the edge of his chunky crocheted scarf. (Your sister probably made it for him. And now he was using it to hide her hickies. The little hoe.)

He felt your stare and blushed, his wide animated eyes becoming sheepish as he yanked his scarf up just the littlest bit higher.

So that was why that ten minute pickup time had stretched into twenty.

Good for the both of you.

Soon, the three of you were wandering through the farm. There was a section of freshly cut trees ready to take home near the front but rows and rows of trees still rooted to the ground off into the horizon, all dusted with this week’s newest burst of powdery snow. It was a magical thing to see really.

Your sister was happily tucked into Hoseok’s lithe side, one arm looped through his, the other hand cradling a hot cup of cocoa with a candy cane poking out of the lid. Nothing if not festive. You’d opted to save your cup for later. You liked the brisk air, and you liked both your hands being deeply plunged in the warmth of your fleece lined pockets.

“Cell reception is shit up here.” Hoseok piped up. “I tried to text Namjoon to see if he was working today but all I got back was the green text bubble of death.”

“Boo, Joonie’s the worst at charging his phone too. It’s probably dead,” your sister giggled.

“Guess I’m never gonna meet your jolly green giant, Hobes,” you bumped his elbow with yours.

“With the brain of archibald asparagus,” your sister added.

“Sexy brain, that man has,” Hoseok sighed with envy.

“Your brain is sexy too, babe.” Your sister tipped up on her toes to kiss Hoseok’s wind-chapped cheek.

“Not as sexy as his,” Hoseok nodded resolutely.

“Oh, what about when he wears his little wire rimmed professor glasses?”

“Too hot. He’d melt the snow,” Hoseok swooned.

“Goodness, are you in love with my sister or him?” You teased.

“Both,” Hoseok admitted, a little too sincerely, clutching at his heart over his oversized parka.

“I don’t blame him,” your sister nodded sagely. You quirked a brow at her and she simply shrugged, all innocence, zero guilt. “What? Don’t look at me like that. Trust me, it’ll make sense when you see him.”

“If I ever see him. I’m pretty sure he’s a myth.” Your skepticism came out with a snort and an opaque puff of air.

Geeze, it’s cold.

────────────────────────

At some point in the wandering, you got distracted watching a small child drag their parent by the wrist to the tree of their dreams. The scene was so wholesome and sweet. The little girl squealed with delight as a pair of squirrels skittered past them in chase, twining their way up her tree and darting down and away, ruffling soft powdery snow loose from the tree’s needles in their wake like a fairy sprinkling pixie dust.

The whole interaction was so idyllic that you’d stopped paying attention to where you were going and plowed directly into the broad back of what you were sure must be a bear. What else could it be? No man’s back was that broad, that’s for sure.

The force of it knocked you flat back on your bum, leaving you dazed in a little pile of crunchy snow and loose pine needles.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

The words came too fast, too rushed, and at sure as hell too deep of an octave to come from anyone you knew, man or bear included.

There was a massive olive green, gloved hand shoved in your face- apparently attached to whoever was apologizing so profusely. You grabbed on and let it hoist you up. Goddamn, whoever this was was strong. After flying backward just a few seconds ago, you were now flying forward, toppling directly into what seemed to be just as equally broad a chest as the back you had crashed into moments ago.

“Are you alright? I can’t believe I did that. Are you o-“

The rambling ocean wave of a voice stopped crashing over you the second you looked up and locked eyes with what you were sure was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in person.

“Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath.

The man’s full lips seemed to gape as he looked at you.

Not necessarily in an objectionable way. It was more like, the tape in his brain had spun off the track and tangled itself up like an old cassette that needed help being wound back up again. It was like his thoughts were written all over his face. If you knew him better, you could have read them like a novel. For now, you knew one thing.

He was pretty when he was thinking.

Hell, he was pretty, period.

And two, he was solid as an ox.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Mr Yun’s gonna kill me if you’re hurt. I should have been paying more attention.” He patted down the sides of your ribs and torso like he was half expecting a bone to be jutting out.

“I’m okay. I’m good. i-“ am still holding his pecs, you realized.

What a Christmas miracle they were. Geeze. He had better boobs than you. You swallowed once then smiled up at him. “Do you, by any chance, work here?”

He blinked at you. There was snow on his eyelashes. His tiny dark green beanie wasn’t doing any good at shielding his face from the snow, but god did the color look good next to his golden skin.

“Um, yes, actually. I do. Again, I’m so sorry that I-“

“Shush, enough of that. You’re going to help me pick my tree.”

“I am?”

It was his turn to swallow.

“I mean, yes. Of course I am. Can. What are you looking for?”

He was nervous. So visibly nervous. You weren’t sure if it was because of you or if it was just his general disposition. Either way, you were hopelessly endeared by it. Pretty, bumbly, abominable snowman of a man. With great tits.

“Well, I came here in a Mini Cooper, so… whatever will fit on top of that, I guess.”

He blinked again, before he smiled- wide and gracious. His eyes crinkled at the edges and Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

His dimples.

How obscene.

“Sounds like a great place to start, to me.” He laughed for the first time. It was so boisterous and rich, you were sure he’d cause an avalanche.

The sound was as deep as winter, but soothing and warm. You already wanted to hear it again.

Oh boy. You really liked this one.

────────────────────────

“So what technically constitutes ‘ethically sourced’ when it comes to Christmas trees?” You looked wide-eyed up at Namjoon.

“Um… you know I… well, usually I-I would know the answer to that.”

“But right now, you don’t?”

“I mean, I can’t say that I do.” He shrugged ruefully.

“Despite currently being employed on a Christmas tree lot?” You arched a brow at him, a wry smile pulling at your lips.

“That does seem to be the case, yes.” His brows pinched at his own glum response.

“Are you new?” Mirth glittered in your eyes as you watched him.

“No, actually, I’ve been helping Mr. Yun since college… senior year of high school technically, actually.” Namjoon looked a bit lost in space as he wracked his brain for his qualifications.

“So you should have seniority around here?”

“Sort of ? It’s just , you know, mr. yun is a friend of my parents and he’s always been good to me so I always try to return the favor and help out every year, if I can.” He swallowed.

He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. He literally talked to people for a living. He could sell a polar bear ice, for Pete’s sake. But every time he made eye contact with you, he was practically on the verge of forgetting his own name so this whole witty repartee thing was an absolute struggle in ways it absolutely should not be.

“Well, he’s very lucky to have you then. Even if you can’t tell me where this tree came from.” You chuckled.

“No, I that- that I can do. All our Douglas firs come from grey farms about two hours north of here. Again, super kind family. They’ve been doing this for generations, actually.”

He found himself affectionately gripping the top of the tree while you smiled up at him like you had a secret and he felt a new rush of sweat rise beneath the fold of his beanie.

“So locally sourced then.”

“Family owned.” He nodded.

“Well now, that’s a great start. You know more than you let on.” You tapped an index finger into the down of his puffy coat and he felt himself flush, wishing he actually could have felt that touch.

Every part of him felt like he was back in middle school right now. It had been ages since something this simple was this difficult for him. Trying to figure out how not to trip over his words while maintaining eye contact with the you and your the luminous smile really wasn’t working at all. He should have been better at this by now, he sighed. His thirteen year old self would have been ashamed to see how little progress he’d made in that department in a decade and a half.

“So, should I choose to re-home this lovely tree, do you know of anyone who could, say, strap it to the roof of my car for me?”

Your eyes were twinkling, face framed by the softly falling snow flurries that had started up again and Namjoon felt himself swallow.

“I- I would be happy to find-“

“There you are! Finally found you- Oh, hey bro! So you are working today!” A voice bright like tangy sweet lemonade interrupted Namjoon’s inelegant struggle.

“Hoseok?” Namjoon looked mystified at the pair of you as Hoseok clasped a mittened hand around your shoulder. “How do you two-“

“This is my girl’s sister, y/n, remember? I told you we were helping her move in last week.” He explained with a happy shrug.

“This is… you’re… wow. Hey. Nice to officially meet you.” Namjoon released the tree to dizzily shake your hand, trying his best to ignore your amusement at his manic behavior.

“So you’re the mysterious friend who was too busy to help with the u-haul unloading, huh?” You quirked a brow up at Namjoon. He looked a bit green around the gills as his snow frosted lashes fell away from your gaze.

“We were slammed here that day. If it makes you feel any better, I got so much pine sap all over me that I had to toss my favorite gloves away.”

“Tsk. Now why would that make me feel better?” You teased as something mischievous glinted in your eyes.

“Because my shitty friend status made me suffer?” Namjoon shrugged.

“Well, we weren’t friends yet,” you grinned. “But now that we are, I think it’s only right that you should come over when you’re off to help the three of us decorate my new locally sourced, freshly cut Christmas tree”

“Oh absolutely!“ Hoseok piped in. “You haven’t hung out in weeks- you have to come.”

His endearing smile beamed bright across his face in a way that was impossible to fight. Bright red bits of hair peaked out beneath his beanie as he grinned widely up at Namjoon, and Namjoon was too distracted by his openness to process his nerves at the invitation.

“I mean, I guess I… I mean I wouldn’t want to intrude on…”

“Nonsense,” Hoseok interrupted,” you’d only be making the party better! Y/n needs all the friends she can get anyway. Poor thing’s stuck hanging out with us all the time- she could use a few new faces in the rotation, right little sis?” He hip checked you, ruffling your hair with the hand slung over your shoulder.

“Not your little sis yet,” you countered, eyes full of challenge.

“Wait, Hobi, this Christmas are you gonna…” Namjoon twisted his left hand, the gesture caught vaguely somewhere between the Queens wave and the single ladies dance.

Hoseok pulled a nervous face, brows lifting and jaw tightening until his smile bared all his teeth, as he patted the chest of his puffer coat.

“I’ve been carrying it around for weeks actually. Can’t seem to find the right time.”

“Are you insane?” You swatted him. “You brought it with you here? What if you lose it in the snow, you dummy?!”

“Ow!” Hoseok rubbed his shoulder dramatically. “The little ones are always fighters.”

You rolled your eyes as Namjoon blushed for reasons beyond him. Maybe he didn’t need any more explanation than the fact that you were cute as hell and he liked seeing you laugh.

“Your sister would never hit me like that,” Hoseok huffed.

“Yeah, she doesn’t have to because she knows I’d do it for her. Now why on gods green earth is the ring just chilling in your pocket while you stroll through endless yards of nature??”

“I keep it with me in case there’s a moment that just feels right. I’ll already be ready, you know.”

Hoseok’s face was far away, dreamy.

Namjoon was happy for him, even if he wanted a little piece of his friend’s wonder for himself one day.

“I still think you should propose to her at home in your little jungle. You have to know how happy that would make her,” you asserted.

Namjoon thought back to his last visit to Hoseok’s apartment. The walls had almost been alive with the amount of trailing vines climbing toward the ceiling. It was otherworldly, serene, like an indoor garden. It would be a spectacular place to propose actually.

“I think she’s right. It would be pretty damn perfect, Hob.” Namjoon offered.

“Ooo, did you hear that?” Slipping out from under Hoseok’s slinky arm, you attached yourself to Namjoon’s bulky one. “He already knows I’m always right. The company you keep, Hobi. I like this one.”

You squeezed Namjoon’s bicep, and he swore he could feel the warmth of your touch through his puffer jacket. He knew his cheeks had to match Hoseok’s fire engine hair now.

“Hey, be sweet to him. He’s sensitive,” Hoseok tutted as he pinched Namjoon’s rosy face despite being swatted away by one Namjoon’s big hands.

“I… is this the tree you’re settled on y/n? If it is, I should start getting it wrapped for you.”

“Hoist it on the beige Mini Cooper in the back, eh Hulk?” Hoseok patted his unoccupied bicep, giving it a happy squeeze as he pushed past Namjoon. “Im off to find where my poison Ivy wandered off to again. Probably somewhere talking to the cedars.” He shook his head softly but gosh, there was nothing but fondness in his happily crinkled eyes. “You two don’t get up to anything too wild while I’m gone now, yeah? We haven’t even brought out the baileys and the eggnog yet. Save it for later - or I’ll be the one kissing Joonie under the mistletoe.”

Hoseok wiggled his fingers and brows in puppety unison as he vanished through the trees, leaving Namjoon alone with you once again.

“He’s quite the character isn’t he?” You chuckled.

“You have no idea.”

“He’s good to my sister though. I’ve never seen her so happy.”

“They’re pretty made for each other,” Namjoon nodded in assent as you sighed.

It wasn’t until he looked down to catch your expression that he realized you were still holding onto his arm. Jesus Christ of Nazareth, was he going to faint in a Christmas tree lot?

You looked up then, a soft giggle bubbling out of you when you saw whatever his distress was doing to his face, and squeezed his arm before walking a few snowy paces ahead.

“Come on, tiger. The quicker we take care of this, the quicker we can get out of the cold.”

Namjoon had never followed anyone faster in his life.

────────────────────────

Why had the three of you come in a compact car?

This was pure delusion.

The tree Namjoon had helped you pick loomed over the front windshield like something from whoville. Good thing you weren’t the one driving. Good luck with that visibility, Hobi.

You and your sister stood side by side, linked at the elbow while the two men tied the tree down to the roof of the car.

“Think we’ll tip over in a strong breeze?” You queried.

“I think we’ll tip over if anyone even looks at us funny,” your sister giggled.

Her laughter was contagious and soon you were both cackling uncontrollably as Hoseok and Namjoon secured your dr Seuss tree to the roof of her car. Namjoon looked back over his shoulder, making accidental eye contact with you. You let your gaze rove over his absurdly pretty face, eyes lingering around the high corners of his cheekbones and the doughy imprints of those audaciously sweet dimples of his.

“My god, just look at him,” you sighed. “It’s like heaven tried to make focaccia bread when they made his face and decided to stop two pokes in because it was already perfect.”

Your sister looked between you and Namjoon, chuckling when the giant of a man turned away bashfully, as if those big shoulders could make him disappear.

“I told you he was pretty,” she shrugged. “And you gave me your judgy eyebrows.”

“I was a fool,” you sighed again. “In my defense, I didn’t know there could be boys prettier than Hobi around here.”

“Wait til you meet the children. Jimin and Jungkook are so beyond anything you could even comprehend. Beautiful little whores.”

“There’s more?” Your brows shot up high.

“Oh and Taehyung! Taehyung will charm you right out of your coat. He’s the dangerous one. I can’t even make eye contact with him without stammering,” she shook her head in derision.

“Whew boy, what a winter we’re in for.” You rocked up on your toes with a whistle.

“Winter is a mercy. Seokjin’s shoulders in summer? Glory be.”

Lovingly, you squeezed her tighter into your side. “At least we have Yoongi on our side.”

“Oh, no ma’am, we do not. He’s the worst one!”

“Min Yoongi ?” You gasped. “No!”

“Yes! He’ll sneak right up on you out of nowhere just when you think you’re finally friends and keep your glass full of wine all night until you accidentally spill all your most embarrassing high school secrets,” she muttered.

“No,…not the pyramid.”

“Yes, the pyramid. And he’ll get it on tape too. Adorable little bastard. Don’t let that cute little gummy smile fool you. He’s ruthless.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard your big sister curse before.

The pout on her face was too priceless not to laugh at so you did. The laughter was robust and full- it came straight from somewhere deep in your belly and pretty soon she was laughing too, hiding her face in the faux fur collar of your coat. The two of you clinging to each other as you cackled like wild children in the snow.

────────────────────────

Hoseok looked over the roof at the two of you and melted into an inordinately affectionate grin.

“You could just go ask her now and put yourself out of your misery, you know,” Namjoon chuckled to himself.

“Nah, she’s so happy right now. I’ll let them have their moment.”

Namjoon let himself study you.

The two of you looked so much alike yet so different. Your sister was all spun sugar and sweetness, quick as a dragonfly on the breeze. But you, well, he didn’t quite know how to put it into words. You were still sweet, but it was different. There was something more rich, a bit more solid about your aura. If your sister was candy floss, then his best guess - based on his limited interaction with you- was that you were salted caramel.

The thought had him pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He wanted to know what else made up the pieces of you. He wanted to get off this shift so he could be in the same room as you. So he could be alone with you.

He wanted to get you under the mistletoe and taste those pretty lips of yours.

But of course, that meant he had to have a coherent conversation with you first.

“Hey, quit undressing my baby sister with your eyes,” Hoseok snapped.

Namjoon shook his head, rattled the stars out of his eyes.

“My bad. Sorry, man.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” Hoseok huffed. “Hey, I think I’m getting good at this protective big brother thing. That was pretty convincing right ?” He beamed proudly.

“More than you know… hey, we should be good here.”

Namjoon patted the now secure tree, rustling a bit of soft snow loose from its branches.

“Then it’s time to get this baby back on the road!”

Hoseok slapped the chassis and the car jingled— jingled!

“I can’t believe you’re gonna marry a Christmas elf,” Namjoon snickered.

“Hey, you’re one to talk, Yukon Cornelius. You work at a damn tree farm. Don’t judge me. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be next. Y/n is just as bad as her sister.”

Namjoon stole another glance your way, his eyes darting away in a flash when he realized you were already watching him, something sultry glittering in your gaze that he tucked away in his pockets to think about later.

“Maybe being next wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” he smiled to himself.

────────────────────────

Before you could get off the tree lot, Namjoon was running back to the car, something small in his hands that you couldn’t make out.

You were crammed in the back seat between the extra boughs your sister had bought to turn into wreaths and garlands. All the evergreen scents made you feel like a new car air freshener. God. It was gonna be a long ride back to the city.

Namjoon knocked on the glass in a hurry, and you rolled the window down. What on earth was he-

“You never got your cocoa.”

“What?”

“You said you were gonna wait to nurse it on the ride home so I got… I got you cocoa.” His volume trailed as he handed the cup to you, like he was second guessing every action in his life that had brought him to this moment.

“Oh, I…” you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t trust yourself not to open your mouth and accidentally tell him you were already in love with him and did he know a guy who could get you both a marriage license by sundown.

“Kim Namjoon. You absolute sweetheart,” your sister gushed from the front seat.

Namjoon’s cheeks went from rosy from the cold to plum from embarrassment. You’d never wanted to kiss someone’s eyelashes before.

“Well, that’s all. I gotta get back. i-“

“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes flicking up from beneath your lashes to meet his.

“I…. Yeah. I.. I hope you like it.” His smile was wide, inebriated, giddy. You swore you could see the stars during the daylight.

“I’m sure I will. Six o clock. Tonight. You can come right?”

He nodded, bobbleheaded and boysish.

“Yeah. I’ll grab the address from Hobi.”

“Oh will you now?” Hoseok piped up from the front.

“Hobi, shut up or I will end you,” you threatened through your own teeth as he and your sister laughed at you.

“Tonight?” You called to Namjoon as Hoseok began to shift the car into gear.

“Tonight!” Namjoon shouted back, both his arms waving over head as the car pulled off and he shrank into something small in the distance.

Settling back in your seat, you brought the cup to your lips and breathed in the steamy liquid. You noticed a little black heart drawn in sharpie on the cup, remembered seeing a sharpie tucked behind one of Namjoon’s ears and smiled to yourself like you’d just been passed a note in eighth grade.

You looked up to see two sets of eyes watching you in the rear view.

“Oh god, eyes on the road mom and dad. This has nothing to do with you.”

Your sister giggled, “well I for one am very happy for both of you.”

Hoseok chimed in with a “right? They’re cute.”

God. What a pair of menaces.

You sank in your seat but couldn’t help but smile.

“He is cute, isn’t he?” You whispered into your cocoa cup.

Maybe this wouldn’t be such a long ride home after all.

────────────────────────

“Why did I let you make me think this was a good idea? I don’t even have any furniture! What, we’re gonna make that Goliath sit on boxes for a chair?”

You were frazzled. Namjoon had texted Hobi that he’d be at your place in half an hour. Suddenly the idea of that massive man being in your tiny apartment drinking eggnog out of a solo cup that you’re sure would look like a shot glass in his massive hands made no sense at all.

“First of all, this was your idea,” Hoseok chuckled,” so don’t pin this on me.”

“Traitor.” You whispered.

“But if it makes you nervous, I can shout out the boys to swing by.”

“What? How does that make any sense? Why would we add more people I have no place for? Come on now, use the brain in that pretty head, Hobi.” You rapped your knuckles against his temple as he laughed at you- laughed!

“ I am! It’ll make it feel less like a date. Less pressure to talk one on one there’s a little more of a crowd,” he shrugged like it was that easy. Maybe it was.

“Okay. Fine. Do it. But somebody’s gonna have to bring food cuz there’s nothing in that fridge but eggs and kombucha.”

“God, we need to feed you, little one.” Hobi frowned, concerned.

“Groceries are on tomorrow's to do list. I wasn’t expecting to feed a small army today. I was just gonna grab some take out once you and the missus went home.”

“And you still can. I’ll see if JK can snag something from work.”

A key jingled in the lock as your sister shimmied her way in the door, arms filled with Christmas decorations with a string of gold tinsel draped across her throat like a feather boa.

“I’m back! Hobi, baby, I texted you. Can you bring the other bin up?”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and darted out the door.

“Holy mackerel, it’s gonna look like Santa’s workshop exploded in here.” You took in the sheer amount of tinsel, lights and decor your sister had managed to manhandle up the stairs.

“Oh stop you. They’re just extra decorations and props from the photography studio. I figured you can use what you like, and we’ll just put them back when the season’s over.” She shrugged.

“I’ll take free decorations that I don’t have to store any day.” You asserted with a grin. Peeling the sticky back off a command strip, you climbed up on a chair to hang the dang thing as close to the ceiling as you could reach. Your sister came behind you to spot you. No sense letting you break your neck before the guest of honor even got here.

“Most of our mini sessions are over anyway. Nobody should be trying to book their Christmas card photos after December 14th, and if they do, they deserve the Charlie Brown Christmas tree they get.”

It always tickled you when your sister tried to be matter of fact. You knew good and well she was too accommodating not to at least try to bend.

“Lay down the law, sis. Hey, hand me those string lights will you. Can you plug them in?”

The room burst into light in a cacophony of colors.

“Whew. Multi. Bold.”

“Sorry, I didn’t check if they were colorful or warm white first. Shoot.”

She looked so chagrined. It was so sweet. Here she was being so giving and thoughtful, and she really thought you were gonna have the nerve to be picky.

“Shush, you. They’ll look great. It’s kind of… cozy. Very vintage Christmas. Nostalgia chic,” you smiled, and she smiled with you, relieved.

“Hey, you don’t need to be nervous about Joonie.”

“I don’t?” You looked up at your sister through your lashes.

“He’s really a sweetheart.”

“I mean, I can tell that from space.” You smiled.

“Don’t be smart, you know what I mean, dummy.”

“Wait, which one am I ? Smart or dumb?” You laughed.

“Goofy. But I mean it. He’s such a good guy. His last relationship didn’t go so well,” the color of your sister’s voice changed then. “It was a long time ago. It was. I’m sure he hardly thinks about it anymore. It’s just, I think we’re all rooting for him to find someone who realizes just how lovely he is.”

Hobi chose just then to come clunking through the front door.

“Look who I found!”

Sure enough, all six foot something of Namjoon was right behind him, bashfully twisting a Santa hat between his nervous hands despite still wearing his little green beanie from the tree farm on his head.

Thirty minutes, my ass, you grumbled internally. But out loud you said : “Hey! You made it!”

He looked so big in your doorframe like that. Were his shoulders going to fit? Surely he was going to get stuck like Santa in a chimney flue.

“Looks like you guys got the tree up no problem.” He offered gently.

“Me and Hobi accessed our inner lumberjacks and got it done.” You flexed one bicep and Hoseok patted it like it was made of steel. You both giggled like the weirdos you were as Namjoon smiled softly, still hulking in your doorway like a vampire in need of an invite to cross the threshold.

“Come inside, you silly boy,” your sister tutted. “You’ve let half the winter in.” She tugged Namjoon’s sleeve as he ducked his head to come inside. God, you wanted to climb him like a tree.

He looked so nervous shucking his snow-caked boots off by your front door. It made you want to put him at ease.

“I can take your coat, and… whichever piece of headwear you’d prefer not to wear,” you eyed his double hat situation for the second time as he seemed to notice it for the first.

“Oh shoot. Am I still?” He snatched at his scalp and realized it was shrouded in green yarn. Pulling the beanie off, he inadvertently gave you a glimpse of his face framed by his thick head of tousled ebony hat hair. You weren’t sure if you wanted to climb up to fix it for him or pull him into your room and make it worse. “Can I use your bathroom?” He blurted.

“Mmm hmm. Down the hall, to the right.”

He thanked you, banking around you and the corner to hide in the bathroom.

As the door clicked shut, you locked eyes with your sister across the room. Even you felt how desperate you looked. She had the gall to laugh at you.

Traitor.

────────────────────────

Maybe this was going to be alright after all.

Sure enough, each of Hoseok’s boys rolled in, each one prettier than the last. The apartment had never been so blessed.

Jungkook brought two massive trays of food from chick fil a with enough side sauces to last until the apocalypse. What a fascinating juxtaposition he was. Wide eyes, innocent pink lips puckered unsurely around a little silver hoop and the dimensions of a Mack truck. How someone with that much ink curling across his skin was allowed to serve the lord’s chicken, you did not know, but you did know that god himself must have had a hand in sculpting his perky little peach of an ass. Glory.

Jimin and his obscenely pretty face brought champagne. Taehyung and his intense eyebrows brought vintage Christmas vinyls and a record player that looked like an old leather suitcase that he’d carried up the stairs on his hip like a briefcase. As soon as he’d gotten settled he’d put on Bing Crosby’s rendition of “white Christmas” and waltzed with Jimin around your kitchen island.

Seokjin brought the good food. Yoongi brought the good liquor. Your sister and Hoseok brought the laughter and joy.

It was a perfect way to spend a December night.

Somewhere during the course of the night, seokjin - who was wearing a Christmas sweater with an embroidered cat on it that he referred to as The Second Coming of Min Yoongi- decided to make an old fashioned popcorn garland for your tree. As he and Yoongi squabbled over how to properly thread a needle, you realized it had been ages since you’d seen Namjoon.

When he’d emerged from the bathroom earlier, his soft skin had been glistening as if he’d splashed water on his face. His hair looked to have been slicked back with wet hands, while one stubborn piece jutted forward to softly frame his brows. You’d gulped down your drink and avoided eye contact, knowing good and well your face was probably screaming “for the love of god, please marry me” every time you looked at him.

In your self-preservation, you feared it may have come across as plain avoidance. You needed to find him.

He’d driven all this way.

The tree farm was so far and he’d been working in the cold all day. Yet somehow he was here in your tiny home, without a single complaint.

Earlier in the night, you’d nearly tipped off your chair ladder trying to put the star on your tree and he’d caught you, scooping you up bridal style like it was as natural for him as breathing air. It was an unnecessary gesture. You really hadn’t been that far off the ground and the show of strength was absolutely welcome but embarrassing nonetheless. You’d been cradled in his chest again and god, it had taken everything in you to fight the instinct to bury your face between his pecs.

“Stop objectifying my sweet baby. You’ll taint him.” Hoseok had teased from across the room.

You’d shot him a death glare as a glum Namjoon had placed you gently on the ground.

“Sorry. Hope I didn’t make that awkward. I just… you were falling and…”

“It’s alright, Joon. Thank you.” Your smile was earnest. You watched the way his reaction played across his face like a movie. It made you want to kiss him. “Besides, I should’ve put the tallest man on the job in the first place.”

His dimples had reappeared then, and you’d felt the oxygen in the room go thin.

You’d been avoiding him ever since.

Pressing up off your IKEA futon and stepping around the push up - off a shirtless Jungkook was currently doing as Jimin sat cross legged on his back and Taehyung counted, you set off to find Namjoon.

In less than six hundred square feet, there weren’t many places he could go. Everyone else was in the kitchen/living room. That really only left the open bathroom, the balcony- which your sister and Hoseok were currently cuddled up on, watching the snow fall- and your bedroom.

You weren’t sure what you’d expected to find when you pushed open the door, but somehow Namjoon folded up on the floor studying the lower tier of your bookshelf actually made loads of sense. You hadn’t been aware someone that large could fold themselves into something so small. His long fingers trailed over the spines of your favorite books and something in your lower belly swirled.

You could have spent the rest of the night just watching him read.

That, however, even in your own home, might be kinda creepy so you decided to announce your presence instead.

“Howdy stranger,” you crooned, leaning shoulder first into the door jamb.

Namjoon startled, clutching his chest like you’d just given him a heart attack. His long limbs flailed, knocking into the bookshelf like the baby moose he was, sending a small picture frame careening down onto his head. It knocked his Santa hat off kilter, leaving the beautiful man looking like a bamboozled disaster.

Your laughter filled the room as he collected himself, straightening his hat and placing your frame back on the shelf. You came to sit beside him, hugging your knee and leaning one shoulder into his.

“Whatcha doing? Whatcha reading, more importantly?” You shot him a pointed look paired with a smile you hoped was disarming.

“Oh. Uh, nothing yet. I didn’t mean to pry. I just… well there was so much going on in the living room. I just wanted to get some air so I stepped in here, but I ended up getting lost in your book collection.”

His fingers trailed their spines again, and you felt a shiver down yours.

“You like to read?”

It was a pitiful question on your part really. Clearly he did. He was surrounded by your personal mini library, and it was the most comfortable you’d seen him be all day.

“Oh it’s the best thing, really. You can learn so much about a person by looking at the things they like to read.”

“And what have you learned about me?”

You felt yourself hold your breath as he looked down, dimples daring to show themselves again now that the two of you were in a private place.

“Well, it seems like you appreciate the classics, for one.”

His finger traced the curve of letters embossed in gold on an ivory spine.

“I went through an intense thrift shopping phase over the last few years. I got kind of obsessive about collecting beautiful books,” you confessed.

“You should come to my store sometime then. You’d love the first editions section.”

There was a pride glittering in beautiful dark brown eyes, the first swell of something like confidence showing in them.

“You work at a bookstore too?” You tilted your head to the side in question as his trademark sheepishness returned.

“Um, own. Co-own, really. Between me, Seokjin and Yoongi.”

“Stop- seriously?” You felt yourself press into his space without meaning to. The sharp, earthy smells of cedar and pine still swirled on him, but underneath that was soft clean soap. You found yourself wanting to press your nose into his throat. You realized too late that your eyes had been doing it for you, and Namjoon had caught you doing it.

Cleaning his throat, something in him seemed to grow bold.

He didn’t shy away anymore. He pressed up off the palms he’d been leaning back on and leaned into your space like you did into his. His thumb pulled your bottom lip out of your teeth, tracing along the edge of it softly.

“Seriously.”He whispered, the timber of his voice deep as winter.

His deep set gaze grew heavy as the moment lingered. You caught sight of his tongue flicking out to wet his full lips as his thumb traced yours and suddenly you felt all your grace leave you all at once.

“You should stay.”

It came out breathy, soft. You knew your face must have given away how molten you felt beneath his touch. He chuckled gently, eyes warm as he smirked. Only half a dimple this time, you noticed.

“Stay?” He arched a brow your way.

“When the others leave… you should stay.”

It was crazy, but the lightheaded part of you that was under his spell couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more.

Suddenly, he was soft again. Eyes no longer serpentine but wide. Kind.

“Is that… would you… like that?”

You smiled at him, sweet as strawberries, and then you were kissing him.

Just once. Slow, gentle, but deep.

There was a hint of cinnamon on his lips. Hobi had picked up some horchata at his favorite taqueria on the way back. He must have given some to Joon. You smiled against his mouth, licked into it once. Felt his chest vibrate with the groan it created.

When you pulled back, he was dazed, staring at you like you were made of stars. Eyeing you like he wanted to know what else you were made of. His lip bitten like he was too hungry to wait.

“Stay.” You breathed again.

“I’ll stay.” He whispered back.

────────────────────────

When the last person had left the apartment, you’d locked the door behind them.

Suddenly it was truly just you and him.

You’d turned, back to your front door and looked at him, eyes sultry, smile sweet.

Namjoon was across the room, too busy drinking you in to remember how to move. But you hadn’t forgotten, it seemed. You took your time crossing the small room. The vivid lights cast bursts of blue and red across your skin- it made your eyes look unearthly, tempting in a way Namjoon was incapable of fighting.

You stopped in front of him, palms pressed to his chest. He felt his eyelids grow heavy at the sensation, but he wouldn’t let his eyes close. Not yet. He didn’t want to miss a moment of you.

You slid your hands up his chest, alongside his throat, skimming his jaw and cupping his face. You stood between his legs and god, did he want to rock his hips against you. You were already leaning into him, your hips pressed into his pelvis. What were his corduroys gonna do? He knew you could feel him already swelling against you.

Your brushed soft thumbs across the angles of his face. He reciprocated by tenderly pushing your hair out of your face. Was your heart racing like his?

Slipping his hands down, he tugged the buckle of your belt forward into him with a thunk. He crept his thumbs beneath the sweater you’d tucked into your high black jeans, and let his fingers swirl against your stomach, smoothing over the dips at your waist. Your body was so soft. He felt himself grow warmer, swell against you harder. When your eyes clouded over and your bit your lip, he knew he was sunk.

“I’m gonna take this off now, okay ?” He whispered, tugging at your sweater as you nodded, glassy eyed and obedient, up at him. Jesus.

Why was he whispering? He didn’t know. It just felt right, he thought. Felt right like being beside you all night had felt. Felt right like he knew being inside you was gonna feel.

When he slipped the sweater up over your head, your earring got caught. A little gold hoop snagged in the knit.

Breathe, he reminded himself, go slow. You don’t have to rush.

He soon realized that was advice he was going to need to take to heart in more ways than one the second he untangled you and saw your glittering smile glowing brightly, saw the way your breasts were spilling smooth and fleshy over the confines of your lacy little balconette bra.

Jesus. Fuck.

Turns out he’d said both out loud and your glossy eyes grew hungrier the longer he looked at you.

“Do something, daddy.” You teased, voice low, gaze heady.

“Christ, y/n,” he drawled as his self-control blacked out.

Soon he was pushing your breasts together, burying his face between them. Sucking one into his warm mouth, scooping the other loose from the dark lace. He had one large hand firmly fitted just behind the buckle of your jeans as the other cupped your breast that wasn’t in his mouth, thumb diligently flicking your nipple until it grew stiff like a meringue peak. He slipped that one in his mouth then, tongue picking up pace his thumb had set and tweaking the nipple on your other breast.

You panted beneath his touch, sinking and molding into him like warm clay in his hands. He wasn’t sure when his hips had started to glide against you, but god, yours were moving too, supple and fluid like water. He needed to get you out of the rest of these clothes. He needed to find out if he could mark your breasts and neck black and purple with his mouth like he wanted to while he fucked you. You really did taste sweet, just like he thought you would. God, he wanted to take a bite out of you.

Pleasantries first though, he reminded himself.

Pushing his head back against the wall, he tried to catch his breath but your nimble fingers were working open the snaps on his corduroys instead.

“Question-“ he asked breathless.

“Answer,” you grinned, triumphant as you finally popped the latch on his pants.

“Jesus, fuck. Cripes.” His eyes fluttered shut as you ran his zipper down and reached beneath his boxer briefs to grab him.

“Which one of those was a question?” You smirked, licking your thumb before brushing it gently across the fleshy tip of him. His stomach dipped in, toned muscle crunching in on itself as your big man buckled under your touch.

“Okay, okay okay. I’m gonna have to ask this quick before you make me spontaneously finish on your tits touching me like that. Whew.” His eyes were blown, head back. Unprepared for you licking more fingers and slipping back down to gingerly play with his balls. “Oh my gooooooood. Okay. Okay. Okay. Marks?”

“Like hickies?” You asked curiously, your hand moving of its own accord to grip him firmly at the base and pull up.

“Yeah, yeah hickies,” he panted, his pretty skin growing sweaty.

“I like that.” You smiled, wide and way too pretty for him to handle right now.”it’s winter. Go crazy, big boy.”

He nodded raggedly, his brow furrowed deep as he bit his lip. He almost looked angry, he had no way of knowing it made you incredibly aroused.

“Tits. I like your…tits. A lot. So much. They’re so pretty.”

You smiled into his throat as you kissed his neck and pumped him silly.

“Joonieee, youre so sweet.” You nipped at his collarbone, giggling at shiver that ran through him.

“Would it… could I… Jesus, woman, why are you so good at that? Screw this. Fuck it. Can I cum on you, your chest at the end of this?” His eyes were direct now, serpentine and lusty as he licked his lips, ran a thumb along the swell of your breast.

“Yeah ?” You ran your tongue along his neck, sending another tremor through him.

“Yeah. You’d look so pretty with my cum on your chest. I mean, they look so pretty already, but Yeah, god yeah I want that.” he nodded.

“Okay. Promise. You can finish on my pretty titties, if you want.” You laughed.

“I want.”

“I’ll even let you fuck them if you want.”

“Christ. You said…what?” He was out of breath, lightheaded from the thought of himself being pressed between the two warm pillowy clouds on your chest.

“Uh huh, if you don’t finish inside me first, that is,” you breathed in his ear.

“Oh my god. Not fair. Get on the bed, now.” He said it with an edge, a grit you didn’t expect from your sweet nervous Christmas tree man. A bite that made you want to obey. Made you want to fuck his brains out. Made you want to be his baby girl so you followed along and played nice. He fumbled with your belt as you melted. You did what you were told and climbed back on up onto the bed, stripping the rest of the way for him along the way.

────────────────────────

As he followed, he pulled his thick wool sweater over his head, black hair falling in gorgeous eyes as he did. The full reveal of his torso left the space between your legs glossy and sticky in ways you hadn’t known it could be. His Jeans and black boxer briefs went next and then he was climbing up and over you, golden and lanky and strong and hung.

Jesus , fuck, Indeed.

He smiled at you, sourdough dimples and serpentine eyes as he slowed down.

“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?”

You nodded, obedient, nervous, eager. You wanted him. God, how did you describe how badly you wanted Kim Namjoon? His lips were plump, sweet, inexhaustibly delicious. His tongue slipped deep into your mouth, his hand firm but sweet on your hip as it climbed up your torso.

Your tits were in his mouth again, tongue flicking wildly as he moaned around your fullness and your nipple. He tweaked the other, switching back and forth as he rutted his too big dick into the meat of your thigh.

“Question,” you gasped, breathless.

“Answer, baby,” his hooded eyes were looking darkly up at you as his thumb slipped its way down to gloss smoothly over your silky clit. You cried out, and he smiled, mouth still filled with your voluptuous tit.

“Daddy?” You questioned, and the primal groan that rattled through his chest and through the sharp twitch of his dick against your leg answered any further queries you had to ask.

“Yes, please, baby. “

He slid up to suck a dark splotch into your neck, his dick sliding up and catching on the slippery ridge of your clit as he did.

“I can call you that ? Can I call you daddy?” You gasped.

He simply nodded, dropping kisses along your collarbone and throat as he lined up to finally slip inside you. The fit was snug, the drag of him along your inner walls sublime as he rocked, working you more and more open to the massive size of him. You smiled, delirious, giddy, as he fucked you like you were divine.

You came three times that night, he came twice. Once inside you and once on your pretty tits. Then one more time down your throat in the morning.

────────────────────────

“There’s not much, but I have…. Let’s see. Coffee, kombucha, seokjin’s leftover gingerbread men… oh and eggs. Can I make you eggs?” You fluttered your lashes up at him. “I’d really like to make you eggs.”

Namjoon looked so cute. Face puffy, lips full. Hair still damp from the shower he took. You’d both been too nervous to shower together, so you’d taken turns and done it separately. You thanked god you actually owned two bath towels to make it possible. He was so adorable. It made you want to cook for the man.

“Sure,” he nodded. Mercy, his voice was even deeper in the morning. He’d barely used it so far today, aside from the sexy groans that had spilled out of him this morning when you’d woken him up with your cheek resting sweetly on his inner thigh and his cock in your warm mouth. (You’d gotten consent the night before, of course.)

“Um, how do you take your coffee? And is scrambled okay? I make really good scrambled eggs.”

He smiled warmly, his gruff exterior softening with your exuberance. He nodded his assent and you got to work getting out the egg carton, your chopsticks, the milk and your lone skillet.

“Oh, wait. Your coffee, how do you take your coffee?”

You turned in your robe, a harsh pivot, just to accidentally end up nose to Namjoon’s sweatshirt covered tits with an Ooof.

He kissed your hair, a deep chuckle from the depths of his throat booming through his chest. He was wearing one of your giant college sweatshirts ( that fit just on the roomy side of just right on him) and his black boxer briefs, his substantial thighs looking gorgeous as ever as he stood barefoot in your kitchen. What a turn of events.

He slipped his sturdy arms around your waist from behind, pushing up against the underside of your boobs and buried his blushing face in your hair.

“Black. Just a little cream is good.” He murmured as you sank back against him.

You weren’t used to how soothing another person’s presence could be.

“Gotcha. I’ll grab the-“

He chuckled, pulling you tightly into him to stop your scurrying.

“Shhh. I got it. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss deep into the skin on your neck. It melted you just a little bit further into the solidity of him.

“For what?”

“Last night. This morning. Yesterday. All of it.”

His confidence dipped again. Cockiness replaced by a sincerity so disarming you felt your heart dip softly. He’s so sweet, you thought as you gently caressed the forearm he had draped over your stomach.

“Yes, well…I ….” it was then you realized you didn’t know what to say. In lieu of words, you kissed his palm.

“You’re already making us breakfast. Least I can do is grab my own coffee… you want some?” He nudged the tip of his nose against the top of your ear.

Being that close to his voice made you shiver. You nodded without realizing it. The sound of his voice made you want to be so obedient to him. Why were you so turned on by him being kind, damnit ?

His hands fitted themselves to your hips, pushing the fullness of your bottom back against his hips. You were about to tell him you take yours with sugar and more cream than coffee when your phone began to ring.

Startled, you bolted out of his arms to find… your sister trying to FaceTime you?

Kissing Namjoon’s cheek, you stepped away to answer. Queuing up the screen, you were thoroughly unprepared for brilliant, happy screams pealing through the phone. There was too much motion to make out an image at first, until finally. you caught a glimpse of sparkle. It was the ring Hoseok had shown you a picture of the day he decided to custom order it for your sister.

“Hobi proposed!!!” Your sister squealed. No regard for the neighbors, this one.

“When?”

“Last night. When we got home. Y/n it was perfect…. I could tell he seemed weird when we were on the balcony yesterday, oddly stiff. Like he was trying to tell me something, but it wasn’t making any sense. I teased him and told him to try again later. I was just being dumb- I didn’t know! but when we got home, I had gone upstairs to change out of my Christmas tree clothes and when I came back. He was on his knees in the kitchen.”

Your sister clasped a hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with happy tears. Smart boy, he’d listened to you and Namjoon.

“Y/n, I’m gonna be a wife. I'm gonna marry Hobi. Y/n, I’m so happy I could cry,” she sniffled as tears spilled over the backs of her knuckles.

“Baby, you are crying,” you teased, your own eyes growing glassy too.

“Hey, that’s MY BABY” you heard Hoseok yell from somewhere off camera.

“She was mine first,” you stuck your tongue out petulantly.

“Congrats, man!” Namjoon cheered from his spot by your coffee pot.

“Thanks bro!” Hoseok called back.

“Wait.” Your sister started….

Oh no.

“Was that…” Hoseok added.

No. No. No. no. No.

“Oh my god. Y/n, was that Namjoon?! Did he spend the night?!? Oh my gosh are you two in love now?!?

Startled you let you out something between a yelp and a shriek, dropping your phone on the carpet.

“Did you hold onto those arms of his all night?” Your sister teased.

“Wait-“ Hoseok interrupted ,” do you have a thing for Namjoon’s arms babe?”

“Everyone does,” your sister quipped.” You do too Hobi.”

“That’s not the point… eh! We’re Balenciaga buddies!” Hoseok cheered, the snap of elastic ringing through the air.

Apparently your phone fell in such a way that the camera gave them a beautiful view of Namjoon’s sleek black briefs and the tree trunks they were stretched around.

“Stop objectifying him!” You scolded Hoseok.

“I will when you do!” He taunted.

“Oh my god I can’t do this.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed as Namjoon scooped both you and your phone up from behind again

“Then I will.” He whispered in your ear. “Congratulations you guys!”

Hoseok and your sister gushed something sticky sweet about how obnoxiously in love you and Namjoon were and you couldn’t help it, you smiled too. You told your sister how happy you were for her, promising to call her later with all the juicy details before finally hanging up the phone and burying your face in Namjoon’s hard tiddy. Which he flexed for you, god bless him, before also flexing his yummy, yummy arms around you until you burst into a fit of giggles.

“I like this,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Me too…. Got any plans today?.”

“Nope. I’m off the rest of the weekend.”

“Wanna go grocery shopping with me after I cook you eggs?”

“Are you just using me for my car?” He squinted slyly at you with a smile.

“No. That hadn’t occurred to me actually. I was actually planning on using your height and your body for my own personal benefit.” You answered thoughtfully.

“Oh.” His eyes went a bit wide like he hadn’t thought about that option. “Well. Then. Can I use you for yours?” He asked innocently.

“Sure. Although, you should know, I’m all talk. I’m the biggest softie…. I’m pretty sure if you’d asked me to marry you when we were talking tree-sourcing ethics, I would have strongly considered saying yes.”

Crap. You hadn’t planned on admitting all that. This was his fault. He was just so damn sincere. Those stupid eyes of his were so goddamn kind. You kept forgetting to put a guard up around him.

As you braced for him to be thoroughly traumatized by your admission, nothing of the sort came. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he hugged you beneath the ribs and hoisted you in a circle, nuzzling his cheek tenderly into your cheek.

“Oh thank GOD” he exhaled.

“I’m sorry- what?”

“I’ve spent all morning trying to figure out how to tell you how much I like you without making you feel like you might become the subject of the next true crime podcast.” He ran a hand through his silky hair as you stood stunned where he’d set you down to process his words.

“You….”

“Yeah…”

“That bad?”

“Honestly I’m not opposed to taking your last name if you asked me.” He shrugged.

You covered your face with both hands, shaking it ruefully despite the cosmically bright smile on your face. Soon you were both howling with laughter in each other’s arms, smiling into Namjoon’s deep eyes.

“This is crazy! We’re crazy.”

“I know.” He nodded in agreement.

“I like you.”

“I really like you.”

“I don’t know the first thing about you.”

“Let’s find out together, shall we?”

You felt your eyes fill with annoyingly happy tears. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“You just moved here right?”

“Yeah. Finally- should have done it ages ago. My turn-Why do you and Hoseok have matching designer underwear ?”

“We all do actually. It was Jimin and Seokjins doing a couple Christmases ago.”

“But just one pair each right?”

“Yeah?” Namjoon nodded, brows hunched in confusion.

“Okay. So that means you’re telling me you and Hobi just happened to be on the same daily boxer rotation the day you both fucked a pair of sisters with the same DNA?”

“Please don’t word it that way.” Namjoon grimaced.

“I worded it how it is,” you shrugged.

“My turn. Why do you really want me to go to the grocery with you, Hmm?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Besides the company? For the view when I make you stretch for everything I’ve ever needed on the top shelf, Babyyy.”

“Oh my god. Are you serious?” He couldn’t contain his laughter.

“As a heart attack.” You winked.

“C’mon. Show me how you make these super fluffy eggs I’ve heard so much about. I’m starving. The gorgeous girl who owns this apartment milked me dry three times in less than twelve hours. I’m famished.”

Goddamn him and those cheeky little dimples.

────────────────────────

#kim namjoon x you #BTS fic #BTS fanfiction #kim Namjoon smut #kim namjoon x y/n #kim Namjoon x oc #rm x you #rm x reader #bts fanfic #BTS fluff #BTS smut #BTS Christmas fic #Kim Namjoon Christmas fic #jung hoseok x you #jung hoseok x reader #knj fic #KNJ x female reader #knj x reader #Namjoon fic #Namjoon fluff #Namjoon Romance #BTS winter fic

[wygolvillage]

a new year's resolution

well, as of 2024 i’ve decided i will no longer be posting on tumblr... this shouldnt be the hugest surprise since ive been pretty critical of staff, the over-monetization of the website, the site culture, and the user experience for the past year and gradually reducing my time spent scrolling the ol’ dashboard- ive even mentioned my intent to eventually leave; well, that eventually is now! gradually ive found myself analyzing the effect that using tumblr for 7+ years has had on me, and the effects of social media in general.

ive never had to write a goodbye letter like this before. while ive joined and left several online platforms over the years, its always been a gradual fade in interest rather than a conscious decision to stop. never have i used a platform as long as ive used tumblr, over 1/3 of my life. ive grown up with tumblr, for better or worse. how do you write a goodbye for that? i guess ill have to try my best. because as important as tumblr was for me, ive recognized the way its hurt me too.

finding other avenues of online self-expression particularly has made me think a lot about this. when i edit my website i feel accomplished, happy, and content, feeling i have put something of myself out into the world, my seed to grow and garden to tend. when i scroll through tumblr i feel as if my brain is mostly idle, and when i do emotionally respond its often out of anger or annoyance, because anger = engagement and social media sites like tumblr WANT engagement. particularly because i have OCD ive found myself upset by certain aspects of tumblr discourse culture, as well- it is basically the Scrupulosity Website and much of the way i react to and interact with media has been colored by my years spent absorbing the viewpoints of said Scrupulosity Website! i even used to look up discourse topics on tumblr just to anger myself on purpose, which is a dangerous road to go down, to build up Enemies and Factions in your mind- this is how discourse culture works. the culture of tumblr teaches you to see the world in black and white, and to feel like youre always in danger of compromising your moral purity or being attacked by the morally impure. If You Don’t Reblog This You Are A Bad Person. even as someone who nowadays tries to stay away from discourse entirely, its still there in the back of my mind, because the way we interact on this website is colored by this. when im online i dont actually want to be angry all the time! in fact i like putting my effort towards more positive stuff. but additionally: tumblr made me unhappy but it also made me an addict

and yeah social media addiction sounds like a silly boomer thing to complain about but one thing i noticed when i started trying to curb my time spent on tumblr was that opening the site was damn near compulsive. we all know those “open tumblr, close tumblr, open tumblr again immediately after” memes but that did describe my behavior pretty accurately. the draw and allure of social media feeds is powerful, if i accidentally click the youtubes short tab ill find myself a half hour later scrolling through random shit i don't care about and asking well how the hell did i get here? i dont even like that stuff! tumblr is no different no matter how much the site tries to coast on the reputation of being the last social media that's a “remnant of the old web” and “has no algorithm”. i like my chronological dash but it is equally as addicting to scroll through the thousands of people ive followed over the years, as it is to scroll through the algorithmic feeds of youtube shorts, because that's just social media!

and kicking addiction is pretty damn hard. before 2023, i made two separate attempts at reducing my tumblr usage and both fell through within a week due to that addiction. for reference this current bought of thoughts about reducing my tumblr usage and making my online/irl balance more healthy, around the start of 2023 when i began working on my website and its taken me an entire year to wean myself off of the hellsite, bit by bit. theres a point where it stopped being a conscious act, and even as i was carefully whittling down how often i use tumblr with extensions like leechblock i still had that compulsion go off multiple times every day, its a really strange feeling. but now that ive found so many more ways to express myself online, i just feel more whole now... i guess what im saying is that when i post on tumblr my first instinct is to complain or wallow about something, when i post on my own handmade blog on my website i always want to talk about things that excite me or make me happy! and its been such a tangible change in the way i think and act and im certain its because of the way social media and tumblr have their own “societal expectations” and structure that is built to feed on this negativity loop.

and a lot of the biggest shifts happened when i began immersing myself in the ideals of the web revival, while creating my own website. finding things that genuinely interested me and niches i want to occupy made me so much happier. i know we make a lot of jokes about having mutuals we never talk to that mean the world to us and i do think that is indicative of something. like, when i post on a forum full of strangers i am engaging with more “face to face” (or the digital equivalent) communication than i do with years-long mutuals. how genuine are these connections, this dashboard, the enjoyment i got from that meme post ill forget in 10 minutes? (not to say that i don’t genuinely care abt my followers and mutuals. ykwim?) i can still get all the things i enjoy out of tumblr in a more curated form via rss feeds; ive been so much more proud of what i post and create and code on my website. what am i here for? i gradually realized that i am losing absolutely nothing when i “miss out” or block tumblr on my phone or what have you.

since starting working on my neocities site ive felt so much creative drive. ive created whole interactive essays and worlds and games and writings and so many things i could never host on social media. my website is a place of my very own, and ive been learning the value of focusing on what i put out into the net compared to what i take from it. its made me feel so much more fulfilled when i spend time online.

and let's not forget about staff. i have broader issues with how automattic in particular has gone about running the site. the ads only took up more and more of the dashboard, and every month it felt like there was some new paid feature doomed to never take off. all while the user experience gradually degraded. using the site without browser extensions to fix the ui and block the ads and tumblr live and all the other shit they threw all over the place makes it look like its ridden with viruses, and i think the fact that its become so normalized to feel like we have to stay in spaces that become increasingly hostile to us, even while the internet is so vast, is really strange (i mean, i also thought that way at first). but Anyway. so much time and effort was spent on features no one liked or wanted in some desperate attempt to get a little extra money, while staff members get in public fights with users who complain about getting monetization shoved down their throat. its so openly pathetic. the merch store had mostly mediocre designs and the digital tumblrmart is absolutely full of useless digital goods with free alternatives. considering this is a userbase that gladly donates to other sites donation drives for hosting costs (i.e. ao3, wikipedia, internet archive), i am shocked that staff never considered the obvious answer of a fucking donation drive once a year or so! the ceo telling people with concerns about the ads being unsafe for epilepsy to “just pay the ad free subscription” is one of the most disgusting things ive ever heard from someone officially representing such a platform. do not be fooled by the reputation tumblr has cultivated: all that it cares about is making money from you. tumblr is “in danger” because it can't turn a profit- because a profit is all they care about!

so why stay here when im happier elsewhere, apart from the addictive compulsion? that's what ive been thinking through for nearly a year, realizing that i have no reason to, and that weaning myself off of the addiction is in my best interest. i can create and blog and have fun online and connect with others and follow other peoples work all without the need for tumblr anymore! and i think id be all the healthier for it.

over the past year ive truly fallen in love with the internet again and ive loved putting myself out there, unrestrained in ways i havent felt since i was very young. but nonetheless ive learned a lot on tumblr, ive had some of the worst and best experiences of my online life, and i dont doubt that i would be a much different person if i had never been a tumblr user for as long as i was. but i had to break out of this shell eventually.

i keep going over this wondering how i can express every feeling in my head, how i can word everything just a little better, how i can make the perfect goodbye. but i think this will have to suffice.

you can still keep up with me online here:

-explore my website: i keep it consistently updated and im always adding new things and writing new posts on my blog! you can even speak to me directly on the site! if you sign my guestbook or use my chatbox ill try to respond :) if theres anything on this list you do id like it to be this one! i worked hard on it! you can even send me chat messages on my homepage! just keep in mind it may not display everything right on most mobile browsers, but it should be mostly navigable...

you can also subscribe to my rss feed. if you don't know what rss is, it allows you to use a feed reader to keep up with updates from sites all over the internet! my rss feed will notify you whenever ive made a new post on my blog or made an interesting edit on my site id like you to take a peek at :0 convenient, right?

you can also email me at [email protected] to message me directly. if you prefer im also “wygolvillage” on discord

thank you and happy new years :) thanks for seeing me off as i sail to a new sunrise <3

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

How everything in the 14.03.23 live reminds Jungkook of Chaeri

❒ members: Jungkook

❒ genre: fluff?? slice of life?? I don't really know

❒ summary: in which Jk's live on 14.03.23 is nothing more than a summary of his time with Chaeri at the beginning of the year

❒ notes: I deeply suggest listening to the version of 'Falling' in the post, it makes me so damn emotional. It's hard for me to explain how much I loved writing about this soft Jungkook, who does everything to take care of those he loves + all written while listening to his songs (covers and non). I really hope you appreciate it the same way I do

❒ warnings: Mentions of a broken ankle and healing injuries; purchase of products containing nicotine; vaping; moody Chaeri; All events take place at the time when Chaeri and Jungkook move back to the dorms together in early 2023. The occurrences described below, however, are not placed in chronological order

requests are open (even if it takes a while)

January/February, 2023

❥ Elfbar

჻ "You know what would make this so much more bearable?"

჻ Too little time had passed since the accident to stop hurting

჻ Chaeri had planned to finish/start the year doing one of the things she loved most: Going snowboarding

჻ Too bad she had ended up with a broken ankle, a subluxated wrist, and pain scattered throughout her body

჻ She could call herself lucky, however, because she could have broken her neck

჻ Upon discharge from the hospital, talking with her members, it had seemed like a good idea for her to spend the weeks that would follow at the dorms, so as to make it easier for everyone to drop in on her

჻ Jungkook, the only one who had no scheduled commitments, had offered to stay over to help her as much as he could

჻ And she had been nothing but grateful. She hated the thought of being surrounded only by her staff to take care of her wounds.

჻ Jungkook turned his attention away from the pan whose ingredients inside were sizzling. The smell of it was outstanding "What?"

჻ "Elfbar."

჻ It took longer than expected to convince him to join her in searching for an electronic cigarette to buy online

჻ Doctors had given her advice to avoid smoking, not that she was a regular smoker, but vaping from time to time when she was particularly nervous helped her not to freak out

჻ And for the whole time he spent cooking, the guy repeated the doctors' words to her.

჻ But in the end he gave in, which meant that after dinner they found themselves scrolling through the website of the aforementioned brand to decide what flavors to buy

჻ "Strawberry ice might seem basic but in my opinion it's one of the best."

჻ Jungkook's face did not seem to agree much

჻ "I'd rather order the watermelon one."

჻ " Still basic." ゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜ ჻ The smokes took exactly one day to arrive, hermetically sealed in an anonymous package with no markings or writing on them, as if they were illegal products

჻ The whole thing made her laugh, but her little moment of good cheer ended when she realized she couldn't open the package herself because of her injured wrist

჻ "It's okay, I'll open it."

჻ Jungkook took it from her hand and moved away from the couch she was sitting on, going to open it on the kitchen counter with the scissors

჻ He might have done this simply to show her that even he, with his bare hands, could not do it

჻ Although, obviously, he would have succeeded without the help of any tools

჻ It was typical of him to take care of people in this way

჻ Small, almost invisible gestures to make those around him comfortable

჻ Chaeri chased those thoughts about Jungkook out of her mind.

჻ She was overthinking, and she promised herself that she wouldn't do that.

჻ "They smell sweeter than I remembered," Jungkook returned to her with the two cigarettes ready to use.

჻ One colored pink and one colored red

჻ The smell of fruit hit her full force.

჻ As soon as Jungkook tried his watermelon vape, his face was anything but smug

჻ " Give mine a try"

჻ Chaeri pulled her lips away from the cigarette, handing it to the boy next to her. Definitely strawberry ice had been the right choice.

჻ Jungkook accepted without making too much fuss, exchanging cigarettes

჻ The girl took a puff of the watermelon one and her expression changed in the same way as his, " Way too sweet. It feels like melted ice cream under your nose."

჻ "Yeah, yours is definitely better"

჻ "I had no doubt"

The electronic cigarette seen in Jungkook's live is an Elfbar Strawberry ice

❥ Bartender Jk

჻ "I can't even remember the last time I went out."

჻ Okay, she acknowledged. Since her recovery phase started, she had become annoying even to herself. That wasn't her, and she was amazed at how Jungkook could always be patient with her

჻ "Your wrist is already better, for the ankle I'm sure that in a couple of weeks you will be able to return to your normal life."

჻ "Two more weeks!? I can't stand it."

჻ Jungkook laughed, rather, at the dramatic way the girl dropped her head against the pillow, as if he had just given her the worst news a person can receive

჻ "What do you miss the most?"

჻ "I don't know-anything. Like, going to a bar and having a drink, dancing to background music."

჻ Jungkook made a mental note about what was just told to him

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

჻ The next evening, while Chaeri was busy in the, said by her, very boring activity of reading a book in English to try to improve her foreign vocabulary, Jungkook had left the bedroom and had not returned there

჻ "Jungkook?"

჻ She laid the book down by her side as, with clumsy movements, she clung first to the bedside table and then to her crutches to get to her feet

჻ Reading could have waited

჻ "I'm up to something, wait a few minutes."

჻ The boy's voice came from a distance

჻ She, being the disobedient girl that she was, didn't listen to him and with small, shaky steps made her way to the kitchen

჻ She immediately noticed the difference in illumination from the room she came from

჻ The main lights were not on, rather Jungkook's galaxy projector was glowing and made the atmosphere of the dimly lit room relaxing

჻ Behind the kitchen cabinet, the guy in perfect bartender uniform: White shirt rolled up to the elbows, black pants, long hair tied back in a messy bun

჻ Extremely attractive

჻ He was deep in the act of rinsing a glass cup with flowing water

჻ "Welcome, lady"

჻ "What's all this?"

჻ "Your day out. Welcome to - Jk's - , pay 0 and take as many as you want."

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

჻ He had literally set up a bar in their kitchen, to make her smile

჻ And God, had he succeeded

჻ The cupboard behind him, purposely opened, neatly displayed his entire collection of booze, mostly whiskey

჻ An old-fashioned stereo rested in the corner, with soft music playing in the background

჻ The stools side by side in what had become the bar area, with shakers, straws, and glasses filled with colored liquids inside

჻ "I can't believe it"

჻ He had taken the crutches out of her hands and sat her down on one of those right barstools, before going back behind the counter

჻ "New opening, we offer drinks for this. It's hard to believe, I know. During this time of crisis-"

჻ "You're right into the character I see" Chaeri burst into laughter, a laughter that hadn't come out of her own accord in weeks now

჻ "You know when I do something, I do it properly" "So, what can I serve you tonight, young lady? We have a wide selection. If you want an advice, the blueberry juice is quite good."

჻ "Juice?! No, I'm an adult, I want alcohol."

჻ "No alcohol for adults who take painkillers."

჻ "Ugh, okay. Blueberry juice then"

჻ Jungkook put a lot of effort into making the preparation of the blueberry juice look like an actual cocktail, he even added a colorful little umbrella sticking out of the glass

჻ "So professional, aren't you?"

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜ ჻ It went on for at least a couple of hours

჻ They chatted about this and that, drinking colorful juices

჻ "I think the bar is almost closing, young lady. Last wish for tonight?"

჻ "When I go to these kinds of places I usually like to dance to the songs they put on, but I think this cannot come true."

჻ "And who says no?"

჻ "Well, the brace on my leg? my broken foot?"

჻ "Nothing that can't be worked around."

჻ "What you have in mind?"

჻ Jungkook, who was leaning comfortably against the surface of the table with his elbows, circled around it to get to her side and offer her a hand

჻ "I- I don't think that's…proper"

჻ The boy's eyes narrowed "Wouldn't you do it with Yoongi hyung? With Namjoon hyung or everyone else of us?"

჻ "Well..I think so."

჻ "So why not with me?"

჻ "I guess you're right."

゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜ ჻ Jungkook had got her up.

჻ He held one palm open behind her shoulders, the other positioned at the end of her back

჻ He told her to rest her foot with the brace on his so that she would not have to put weight on it

჻ In the background 'I wanna be yours' by the Arctic monkeys filled the room.

჻ Chaeri gasped the moment Jungkook made her move for the first time.

჻ She was surprised to find that he, in that way, was able to keep her from putting any pressure at all on her injury

჻ Not knowing where to rest her hands, she placed them on his chest

჻ 'They were too close, they had to pull away' was what the girl repeated to herself in her mind

჻ But the moment he proved to her that she was actually dancing, that he was letting her dance after all that time she had been forced to stand still, every other thought vanished

჻ "I am dancing"

჻ "You are dancing"

჻ She flashed an excited smile. She never had stopped dancing for so long since she had first learned to do it when she was three years old.

჻ Under her fingers she could feel Jungkook's heart pumping in his chest, alive as never before

჻ He ventured to pull her a little tighter against his body, barely allowing her to touch her sound foot on the ground

჻ He even managed to make her dip slightly, and when he brought her back up, at the level of his face, he could not help but think how much he wished that what they had shared was still between them

჻ He loosened his grip on her shoulders to reach her hair, from which he slipped the scrunchie that held it up

჻ A move he used to do before kissing her

჻ Chaeri seemed to have the same thoughts as him, from the way she looked at him, in which her lips parted as reflex, without her having planned to do so

჻ Instead he simply slid her scrunchie down his wrist and let her go a second after the last notes of the song faded away

❥ Jk humming 'Until I found you'

჻ Many of her activities planned for the beginning of that year had been postponed because of the accident

჻ However, the company's managers decided to carry on at least the ones that didn't require too much effort for their artist

჻ Because of this, about fifteen people arrived in the dormitory one day, armed with all the equipment needed to record a cover

჻ The living room within half an hour no longer had anything to envy a real recording studio

჻ The staff took longer than usual to try to get her ready, do her makeup, and fix her hair, as she was totally uncomfortable with any touch from them

჻ Probably due to the bad mood of those days, of the extreme sensitivity of her body due to her injuries or for being emotional, but she gave the staff a lot of trouble

჻ She couldn't stand them pulling her hair to iron it straight, she couldn't stand them touching the wounds on her face, putting on earrings, nail polish, or anything else

჻ "Can't you just record the song? Is it necessary for you to film her as well?" Jungkook was leaning on the doorway of the huge bathroom on the 1st floor of their apartment

჻ Chaeri looked at him through the mirror in front of her, noticing that he was talking to the staff but his eyes were on her as well

჻ "This is not up to us, Jungkook" The lady in charge of makeup, who was doing her best to cover the bruises and scratches still on her face, replied

჻ "I will talk to the people in charge about it, then."

჻ Chaeri mimicked a thank you to him with her lips.

჻ And he smiled at her before disappearing from her sight ゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜

჻ With Jungkook's help, she sat on the couch, underneath her foot wrapped a smurf to keep her leg up and less sore as possible

჻ As he foretold, he had ensured that the cover was recorded without capturing her on video

჻ She, thanks to this, was already feeling better

჻ Sitting by her side, he got the time to help her warm up her voice before starting

჻ Not that he really needed it, though doing it together he felt might make Chaeri face the next few hours more easily

჻ When the time to record came, he stepped back far enough to allow the staff to place all the necessary equipment around Chaeri

჻ She put on her headphones, brought the microphone as close to her as possible, in her hand the paper with Stephen Sanchez's beautiful lyrics

჻ "I'm ready"

჻ Jungkook raised both thumbs to show her support

჻ And only then did a smile come to her face

჻ "..I asked to Love her once again You fell, I caught you I'll never let you go again like I did Oh, I used to say I would never fall in love again until I found her.."

჻ Chaeri did everything she could to avoid eye contact with Jungkook as soon as she began to sing

჻ Although she couldn't explain why

჻ Or perhaps, just rationally she couldn't explain why.

❥ Falling by Harry Styles

჻ It was late at night and she lost track of all the painkillers she had taken during the day

჻ Definitely too many to consider taking another one to try to rest

჻ She was unable to find a position in bed that would give her body relief

჻ She had even shifted all the blankets at the foot of the bed, believing that the weight of them might somehow be hurting her

჻ But nothing had changed

჻ What's more, for all the time she had spent awake, her head was also beginning to pound uncomfortably.

჻ She hated what had happened to her, it made her so deprived and in pain that she could not be in a good mood for anything at that time

჻ The wrist, since it was not broken, was not going to take long to heal. The bandage would soon be removed and with some physical therapy she would be up to moving it in no time

჻ Her ankle, however, was giving her hell and they had given her no hope of getting better for at least a month

჻ She tried to change position for the umpteenth time, which caused a cry of pain to escape her lips

჻ From the door popped Jungkook's head, who was passing out there at that very moment "Are you okay?"

჻ Chaeri tried to shrug it off, saying it was just a little pain, but Jk knew better. He could see the pain in her eyes.

჻ "Can I do anything to help?" Jungkook asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

჻ She shook her head, but then a thought occurred to her. "Actually, do you remember how you used to sing to me when we were together?"

჻ Jungkook's breath hitched and it took him a few seconds before he managed to force his mouth to move to formulate a reply. It had been so long since Chaeri mentioned anything about when they were a couple.

჻ "Of course, it used to make you fall asleep"

჻ "Would you mind singing to me now? I'm having trouble sleeping"

჻ The girl did not have enough energy to question whether or not her request was appropriate to their situation. She felt that it was what she needed

჻ "Anything"

჻ With graceful movements, he positioned himself on the side of the bed next to her. Not too close, but not as far away as he was a moment before either.

჻ If she wanted this, he would recreate exactly what happened years earlier every night

჻ "I'm in my bed And you're not here And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hands Forget what I said It's not what I meant And I can't take it back, I can't unpack the baggage you left"

჻ Chaeri closed her eyes, letting his voice wash over her

჻ "What am I now? What am I now? What if I'm someone I don't want around? I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling What if I'm down? What if I'm out? What if I'm someone you won't talk about? I'm falling again, I'm falling again, I'm falling"

჻ She didn't open her eyes as she interrupted him, her voice already more relaxed, as if she were about to fall asleep at any moment

჻ "Are you afraid?"

჻ "Afraid of what?"

჻ "Of the future."

჻ "I don't get the point, Chaeri."

჻ "I know-I feel that you are not well. I know you. What I want to tell you is not to question who you are. I feel lost too since the hiatus started, but … they won't stop loving you, we won't stop loving you. You are a beautiful person, Jungkook. Not having plans does not mean that you are a failure." "Actually, I think you will do big things, with or without us. But only you will know when the time is right."

჻ "And you were able to figure all this out from…?"

჻ "By the way you sing this song."

჻ She knew him better than anyone else

჻ Jungkook again felt like the shy teenager who relied on her whenever he failed to share his emotions alone

჻ "Can you keep singing, please?"

჻ She fell asleep shortly afterwards

჻ Jungkook stayed there, watching her sleep. He wanted to make sure she was okay. He reached out and caressed her face, the urge to kiss her overwhelming. But he knew that they were just 'family' now, even if he could still sense that something between the two never disappeared

჻ He settled for watching over her, making sure she was safe and comfortable. He didn't want her to feel alone, especially not now when she needed him the most

჻ As the night wore on, Jungkook felt a sense of peace settle over him. He knew that he would always be there for Chaeri, no matter what

჻ And he also knew again why he fell in love with her

Thanks to those who read, let me know if you enjoyed it! I read somewhere that asks and comments help keep the author motivated lol

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr

#bts 8th member #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #bts female addition #bts imagines #bts x reader #kpop female member #kpop addition #bts au fic #SoundCloud

[hungerpunch]

starting in april '23 i used bereal to take one picture per day at a random time decided by the app. if you don't know, it works by sending a push notification at a randomized time and you have i think 2 minutes to take a photo. every photo uses both your phone's front-facing camera and your rear camera, so you get a capture of your surroundings as well as your own face. there are no filters, there is no editing. you can follow your friends but there is no algorithm, there are no tags, there is no search, it's chronological. there are no ads (yet). when the next push happens, the one previous is removed from the feed. i follow 12 friends so i'm only ever seeing 12 photos max. it is beautiful in its simplicity and honesty to me.

anyway i became invested bc i liked the idea of being able to download all my photos at the end of the year and reviewing them. it's been really interesting, fun, illuminating, made me think about how i spent most of my time (frowning in front of my work laptop), and see what i want to change going forward (more outside, more community, more smiling).

selfies under the cut, which i will eventually remove from this post dw.

i spent what felt like too much time in the car this year. there were definitely lots of trips that necessitated a car, don't get me wrong, but so then i want to create more opportunities to not use the car. i already walk everywhere i feel i'm able, but walking isn't my only alternative. maybe if i'm going on a trip where i don't have a lot of stuff to take or bring back but i still want to take munch, i figure out how to take the train instead. or maybe if there's an errand to run and the weather is not dangerous, we take the bike.

left: morning snap. a regular weekday for me. i prefer working from home but it does pose its own challenges; most days, i'm rolling out of bed at the last second to get right to my computer. there's no intention behind the coffee i make or any breakfast i might have, it's just whatever is easiest (and sometimes nothing at all). a 2024 goal is to force myself to get up a little earlier so i can take my time brewing good coffee, selecting something to eat, and maybe do a little stretching or reading before going to work.

right: more food. i got into a really bad habit of just putting off eating and putting off eating during the workday because i was so busy. "after i finish this one last thing" i'd say, and then that thing would become two, three, etc. and i wouldn't be eating lunch til 3pm. i want to start carving out an actual lunch break for myself again.

this is what i want more of!!! more outside, more being with community, more exploring, more smiling, more caring, more. i don't mean being in constant action i just mean more of what's good. more intentional resting. more intentional nourishing. more intentional eating and hugging and reading and snuggling and kissing and napping and dancing and protesting and listening and more life. more being engaged in living my life.

#ik yday i said i was too busy to acknowledge the year ending but i changed my mind i changed my plans i am spending the day reflecting gdi #various photos of food and mentions of food under the cut #my lyfe #lo cam #munch cam

[loony-whumptoons]

Diatribes

Cw: victim blaming, verbal abuse, survivor's guilt, hallucinations, implied/referenced body gore, mention of bleeding. Overall Hor is not having a good time.

@whumpril prompts 17 and 26 "hallucinations" and "How could you?"

This is set a little later on in the series. But I don't think I'll be writing it in chronological order. The Masterlist will be though!

Hor had grown familiar with the colour red. He never thought a person could bleed so much and still be alive. It was red everywhere he looked. If he closed his eyes would he see red? Would his blood continue to flow when he's gone to sleep? 

He was just so tired. He wanted to close his eyes just for a little bit. 

He shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable position so he could rest for a little, but that never seemed to work for him. Hor laid on his side, closed his eyes and waited for his mind to numb the pain. 

"Hor." 

Hor's body jerked a little; he opened his eyes staring into the darkness of the room. 

"Hor." The voice called again. Gods it sounded so familiar. He hadn't heard it in so long he almost forgot what it sounded like. 

His lips quivered, and tears welled up into his exhausted eyes as they found the source of the voice calling out his name. 

"Mama?" He called out desperately. She looked exactly as he remembered. Light brown hair, pale rosy skin and brown eyes. Eyes that seemed to be filled with disappointment, grief and dare he say it…. blame.

"How could you, Hor?" His mother's eyes stared at him with such anguish and anger he couldn't look at her for too long.

But he had missed her so much. He wished his arms weren't bound and his legs weren't weeping with blood and pain so he could wrap his arms around his mother and cry into her chest. 

But he couldn't move even if he wanted to, it was a miracle he was even awake in the first place. 

"How could you be so careless?" She asked him, her hands travelling to his hair. She took a strand between her fingers, her thumb running over it. 

It would've been so soft if he could take care of it. 

"I spent my entire life trying to prevent this from happening, and you just threw it all away in a single day." His mother frowned. "Why would you do that, Hor?" 

Hor's throat had gone dry. He didn't mean to disrespect his mother's efforts. It had been an honest mistake. A slip-up. An unintentional action that ended up with him bound to a man's will. 

"I'm sorry." He shuddered, his voice quivering. "I didn't- didn't…. Mama I don't know what to do."

Tuya stood up, walked away from him, her brown hair swaying in behind her back.

"Maybe you deserve this, Hor." She turned back to him. "It was all your fault you know? That day. If it weren't for this-" she gestured to his head in disgust. "Maybe your father and I would've been alive." 

"No, no you said-"

"For Iset's sake, Hor. Did you really think any mother would tell her child that he killed his own father? Even if her child is a monster, no mother would ever do that." She crouched down to meet his tear filled eyes, irritated from lack of sleep.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and raised his shoulders to his ears, trying to block out his mother's words.

 "Come on, Hor. Who's the monster here, between you and me?" She taunted, whispering in his ear, her hand caressing his hair gently. 

Hor shook his head, refusing to look at his mother's eyes. 

"You took my life away." She continued. "You made it so difficult, so damn hard. You honestly think I cared about you? If people had known, don't you think they would have thought we sold your soul to Set. What do you think would've happened to us?" She pushed his head away from her. 

"Not that it matters. We're dead anyway because of you. Osir never welcomed someone so warmly as he welcomed us! All. Because. Of. You." She gripped his face tightly, her nails digging into his head. 

Hor's eyes closed tightly as he apologised. "I'm s-sorry."

"What? Say it again."

"I'm sorry!"

"Again!"

"Sorry! Sorry!"

"Louder!"

"I'm SORRY. I'M SO SORRY." He screamed, over and over again, until it was all incoherent gibberish, but he kept apologising, even when his throat started to feel like it's getting torn, even when he couldn't breathe, even when the tears fell out of his eyes so much, they started to burn.

"Hey! Keep it down!" The door was slammed open, Ka appearing with fury etched on his face. His blonde hair uncovered, with dark bags under his eyes.

Hor didn't seem to be able to hear him, since he just continued sobbing. 

"Did you not hear me? I said-" He slapped him across his face. "Keep it down."

Hor looked at him in shock, his mom was supposed to be standing in his place. 

He sniffled, then pulled his knees to his chest. "I-I'm sorry." He croaked, his voice sounding rough.

"Yes, we've established that." Ka muttered, then sat down beside Hor. "So, have you finally gone insane?" Ka asked nonchalantly. 

Hor stayed silent, staring blankly at the wall. 

"Of course. Well, since I'm already awake, what do you think I should do? Don't you think you deserve a little punishment for waking me up in the middle of the night?"

Ka patted his head condescendingly.

"Do whatever you want." Hor sniffled, sounding defeated and run-through, he hid his face behind his knees, bracing himself for more blood and pain.

Ka's face split into a huge smile. "That's what I like to hear."

--->

Tagging: @sapphirechao , @untetheredsymphony

Whump community, I did it! I wrote something for whumpril... very late I admit, but I did it!

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to/removed from the taglist and don't forget to tell me what you think!

#whump #whump writing #religious whumpee #historical whump #whumpee #whumper #of gods and men #hor the redheaded craftsman #ka the blond haired soldier #whump community #thanks to everyone who gave me tips #im sorry i didn’t deliver as much as i wanted to #i was so excited #but then college happened #whumpril2024

[bi-bard]

Lizzy McAlpine Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd [Pt. 2] - Jason Todd Imagine [HBO's Titans]

Title: Lizzy McAlpine Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd [Pt. 2]

Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader

Word Count: 1,943 words

Warning(s): major character death, mention of past trauma

Author's Note: Y'all... I accidentally took an hour-long nap at like 5:30. This is not a vibe.

**Written in third person**

**Not connected to part one**

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

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

ceilings

But it's not real And you don't exist And I can't recall the last time I was kissed It hits me in the car And it feels like the end of a movie I've seen before Before

"Who's (Y/n)?"

Jason hadn't expected the question.

He had been very careful to avoid the topic of (Y/n). He didn't want someone poking around his memories. He wanted them to stay as they were, even if that meant he had to cope with the nightmares and the guilt.

"Jason?"

"How do you know about them?"

The woman across from him sighed and shifted. "Bruce mentioned their name but said he didn't know much."

Jason's jaw clenched. "What does he know?"

"That they were important," she explained. "That you loved them. That you've had nightmares where you seem to wake up looking for them."

His eyes closed and he shook his head.

He could see everything about them. Their smile and eyes and hair. He had vivid memories of their first date, first kiss, the nights spent "sneaking" into each other's rooms. He remembered when (Y/n) got a "proper outfit" for their work. They had been so excited that they jumped around for a bit.

"What happened to them," she asked.

Why couldn't the good memories just exist on their own?

"Jason?"

"They got hurt."

"Hurt?"

He sighed. "They died."

Sometimes it didn't feel like that. There were times when he was certain that he could see them standing with him. Sitting next to him. Lying with him in bed. They were still there.

Even then, in that appointment, he could see them. They were sitting next to him, holding his hand. Like they were comforting him through him retelling their death.

"Can you talk about what happened," she asked.

"(Y/n) and I went looking for Deathstroke," Jason started. "I... I talked them into it. Dick wouldn't go after the guy and I... I thought we could find him.

"We ended up in the tunnel system. I don't know why we split up. But I heard them yell my name. By the time I had followed the sound, (Y/n) was gone.

"The whole team was looking for them. They all just kept... glaring at me. It was my fault that they were there in the first place."

Jason's eyes closed.

He had never talked about it. The team had been wrapped up in a new collection of problems. There was no time to talk about all that had happened. They all just... moved on.

"Deathstroke... He wanted to trade (Y/n) for his daughter," he continued. "Dick got there before the rest of us. By the time I got there, Dick and Deathstroke were fighting and (Y/n) was tied on some platform outside."

He could've sworn that he heard (Y/n) take a deep breath. He felt their hand moving to his upper arm.

"Umm... Deathstroke had some explosives attached to it. It... It started falling. I... I tried to save them. Dick did too. We weren't fast enough."

The doctor didn't respond immediately. That seemed to make Jason ramble more.

"(Y/n) had gifts," he continued. "From that dude that they stayed with. Some experimental treatment or something. They... They still couldn't save themself. Their powers just... stopped! It should've been me or Dick or anyone of us. We should've been there! I should've fucking been there!"

"Jason," she replied. "Why do you blame yourself more than Deathstroke?"

"I walked us into that trap. I am the reason (Y/n) was there. I was the one that couldn't save them."

"You didn't set the trap."

Jason rolled his eyes before pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"What treatment did (Y/n) undergo?"

"Does it matter?"

"It might."

"It was some weird brain surgery thing, I don't know," Jason shrugged. "They said it poked at something and that caused their... powers."

"Can you give me examples?"

Jason was struggling to see the point as he spoke, "Telekinesis... telepathy..."

He trailed off after a moment. There was a moment of realization that he didn't allow it to show on his face. The weight next to him shifted. No words were spoken but it felt like a confession had been made.

And in that moment, Jason's entire concept of reality and death completely shattered.

In Agreement

I talk to my friends about you Pretty sure they're tired of hearing it I say I met a guy, and he treats me real nice Which is good for a change

Dick had told Gar to keep an eye on the security cameras.

Gar agreed immediately. It was something to do that wasn't training or sitting around and waiting, of course, he jumped at the opportunity.

He was just figuring out all of the different camera angles and buttons on the control center when Rachel walked in.

"What are you doing," she asked.

"Dick asked me to keep an eye on the camera," Gar explained, smiling at her.

He was so clearly excited, but that didn't stop Rachel from pointing something out, "How many questions had you asked him before he assigned this to you?"

"Not that many, just...," Gar trailed off to count the questions. "Oh."

"Sorry," Rachel muttered.

"Wait, no," he shook his head. "Dick asked me to do this because he trusts me. Not because I was bugging him."

Rachel hummed and nodded. Two actions had never looked so sarcastic. Gar let out a breath and went back to his surveillance.

Rachel chuckled before leaning on the control panel. She let her eyes jump around the screens as Gar messed around with a few buttons. She paused when she spotted something on one of the screens.

"I didn't know one of the cameras went into the kitchen," she commented.

"Yeah," he replied, turning his head to look at her again. "All of the major common areas have one."

Rachel just nodded, still watching the screen with a grin on her face.

"What," he asked, looking over at it. "Oh..."

On the screen was a clear shot of Jason and (Y/n). They were in the middle of waiting for something to cook. Some kind of music was playing in the background, shown by (Y/n) drumming on the counter while Jason stood behind them with his arms around their torso. Jason leaned in and pressed a kiss to their jaw. (Y/n) paused their drumming for just a moment so they could smile at him.

"They really can't leave each other alone," Rachel commented.

"I think it's sweet," Gar replied. Rachel looked at him. She agreed with him, but it felt like the sentiment was deeper for him than it was for her. "I've... I've known (Y/n) for a while now. I've seen them go through some awful situations. It's nice to see them just smile with someone."

"'Awful situations'?"

Gar sighed. He tried to avoid giving away too much, "They spent too long walking on eggshells."

Rachel didn't push beyond that. She just let her gaze turn back to the screen and her smile get a little bit bigger.

Jason and (Y/n) had both truly earned this.

all my ghosts

All my ghosts are with me I know you feel them too Ridin' shotgun next to your free Slurpee They know all of my habits, but they don't know about you I hope that's true

Jason and (Y/n) actually know much about each other when everyone first moved into the tower.

With all of the chaos of Rachel being hunted and then her dad trying to turn everyone evil, small talk was a little difficult.

Not for lack of trying.

Jason had tried to talk a few times during the drive to the tower and throughout their time there. (Y/n) just always seemed awkward. It was difficult to distinguish if it was Jason's fault or just (Y/n)'s personality.

But with Dick keeping everyone hidden in the tower, they had nothing to do besides train and talk. There was plenty of time for Jason to crack through whatever shell (Y/n) had.

Rachel and Gar had left for whatever reason. Jason and (Y/n) were training. Jason had far more fighting experience than (Y/n) did, so he was trying to help. Granted, it was turning into him just showing off.

"Why don't you use your powers," he asked when the pair finally stopped for a break.

"Dick wants to make sure that I can fight without it," they shrugged.

"Why?" he furrowed his eyebrows. "What fight are you going to get in where your powers aren't available?"

"My powers are based in my mind," (Y/n) explained. "Stress and anxiety and... I don't know, a head injury could all prevent my powers from working. I need to be ready."

"If you never practice with them, then you're not gonna be able to use them."

(Y/n) just shrugged.

"I want you to test them," he said. "Just test them."

"What do you want me to do?"

He shrugged. "Use something as a shield."

(Y/N) nodded before stepping back. Jason stepped towards the collection of weapons slowly.

When he finally reached for a weapon, he was fast. He quickly threw the weapon at (Y/n). He watched as something moved in front of them to stop the weapon in its tracks.

The weapon fell to the ground, soon followed by the shield.

"Hell yeah!"

(Y/n) jumped a bit at Jason's suddenly shouting.

"That was fucking awesome!"

(Y/n) chuckled at his excitement.

"I'm not kidding, that was so cool," he continued, walking closer to them.

He paused right in front of them. His eyes scanned (Y/n)'s face, jumping from detail to detail like he was trying to commit it to memory.

(Y/n) was more focused on what was going on behind Jason's eyes. His thoughts were almost obnoxiously loud. Maybe that was just because (Y/n) was truly focusing on them.

One thought that crossed his mind caught (Y/n) off-guard.

(Y/n) looked away suddenly. They could feel their face warming up.

"What," Jason asked.

"Nothing," they shook their head, stepping away from him.

"You were poking around in my thoughts," he accused, pointing at them. He was still smiling. He wasn't upset about the idea.

"No!"

"You absolutely were!"

(Y/n) scoffed but didn't deny it any further.

"What'd you see?"

(Y/n) watched Jason walk back over to them.

"(Y/n)," he said quietly, drawing out their name a bit. "What did you see?"

"Y'know, it's your thoughts, so logically, you should be the one that's embarrassed."

"Not an answer," he pointed out. "Tell me."

"You wanted to kiss me."

Jason's grin only grew a little bit more. He nodded.

(Y/n) felt nervous. Terrified. Their past didn't allow many opportunities to interact with other people, and the people they did meet weren't always the best. Gar was one of the only exceptions that (Y/n) could think of.

They felt some part of their mind being tickled. Reminders of what had put them in that spot in the first place. The time spent dealing with the waves of voices that they couldn't shut off.

Jason slowly leaned in and pressed his lips to theirs. (Y/n) froze for a moment, trying to get their mind to latch onto the moment. They wanted to hold onto this feeling. The pause. The calmness.

He slowly leaned back a little while later. "Was that okay?"

(Y/n) nodded, not quite trusting their voice.

Jason's smile formed again as they did. "Can I do it again?"

(Y/n) nodded again.

He chuckled at them.

And for just a while, both of them could allow their pasts to lie where they should.

They could allow this moment to just be this moment.

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

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[chaoslynx]

Hi chaos what are some of your favourite Eiji moments (from the anime or the manga, Eiji is awesome either way)?

EIJI MY BELOVED OMG

In approximately chronological order, just a very few top picks:

One of my top Eiji moments is in episode 5 when he fucking steals a cop car for the boy he met like a month ago??? And most of that time was spent with said boy being in prison. But Eiji, ride or die boyfriend that he is, is like "yeah he's worth a felony or three" right off the bat.

Episode 11, the way Eiji reacts to Ash telling him his backstory in his own words. I feel like this is a really important moment for both of them because up until now, Eiji knew a lot about Ash, but Ash hadn't chosen to tell it to Eiji. So here, this moment when Ash can tell Eiji in his own words and gauge his reaction is so so vital to the course of their relationship. And Eiji just ... "You're hurt. Really hurt. I can tell." Also in the manga version of that scene, after Ash's, "It doesn't have to be forever. Even if it's just for now," Eiji responds, "Forever."

Honestly episode 11 has so much of Eiji's caring moments, but we also get amazing shit like the classic AshEiji banter and them flipping each other off (in the manga equivalent). Iconic.

The "eat your own weiner -- or is it too small?" scene (manga exclusive, unfortunately) and uhhhh all of his other snarky comments. We love a boy who can banter.

Episode 20 has some more of my favorite Eiji moments:

"Don't apologize. That's for me to do. Let's go, boss."

THE SOUP SCENE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--

The fact that Eiji brought THREE gangs together (Ash's, Cain's, and Sing's) in order to save Ash form Golzine??? Like. Eiji literally led three gangs at once for a while and united them under one cause. Holy SHIT y'all.

Anyone IRL who complains about Eiji missing Golzine in episode 20 has probably never shot a gun, much less at a real person, and much much less with someone they love being that close to the target. I can understand Sing complaining about it, since he grew up around guns and admires Eiji, but in general, I think Eiji did pretty well, all things considered???

When Ash says "I'll lead them away" and Eiji thinks about it for about a quarter of a second before fucking shouldering Ash out of the way and telling Cain to take care of him so that Eiji can lead Golzine's men away instead. Ash's panic in this scene gets to me so badly -- I can only imagine what Eiji would be feeling in that moment. Bones asks "Where are you going?" and Eiji responds "I don't know!" like his only fucking thought is how he can use what abilities he has to save Ash. Holy shit.

I'm crying I love Eiji so much y'all. Oh my god. There are so many more good Eiji moments so feel free to reblog with your favorites too -- these were just a few off the top of my head. Sorry if I got episode numbers or quotes wrong, these are all just from memory lol

#banana fish #eiji okumura #asheiji #answers #wonderingwhyiam #sorry this took so long to reply to!!!! #i have been a busy chaos and i didn't wanna halfass this answer

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

i'm not sure if you've read tsukasa's most recent event too, but just in case, they had met a shy but talented actor named Bakuno Reki there. He had invited WxS to apply to be extras in the movie he was going to star in, which the troupe was accepted for. The original plan was to show up to set, learn more about movie production, be background characters for like two scenes, and then peace out. This is not what happened.

The director ended up inviting WxS to join the team part time as stagehands, assisting with props, set-up, and minor tasks. They decided to accept in order to learn even more about a new style of acting and production.

It was pretty hard work, tbh. The director was quite strict with expectations and it's just hard in general, but they all found the work to be rewarding. Tsukasa and Nene enjoyed learning more about the differences in acting through film (non-chronological, which requires different approaches to displaying growth and emotional connection), and Emu learned a lot about scheduling and administration! Rui wants to learn more about directing, but it's a bit hard to do from the sidelines.

A little ways into the project, the director realizes Rui's passion for directing and drive to absorb every piece of information like a sponge. He decides to accept Rui as a directing assistant for the rest of the project. It's even harder work, but Rui accepts without a second thought.

Nothing really major happens until the day they film the climax. The story they are filming is an adaptation of a novel about a boy, depressed and unsatisfied with daily life, who wants to disappear into the sea, suddenly having his life flipped upside down by a mysterious girl claiming to be his long-lost sister. Slowly, through the light of her joy, he learns to love life, piece by piece. The climax scene occurs at an airport, after the sister leaves with no warning. The boy follows her there and asks why, why would she go, why abandon him after everything? (She has a terminal illness and thought leaving like this would be the most painless way to separate. She hadn't meant to get so attached to him when she first contacted.) It's a pretty emotionally heavy scene- one they can't get right. They tried all sorts of re-directions, edits, angles, but nothing managed to capture the true expression they were going for. The shoot was called of and postponed for the next day.

Rui took it upon himself to try and figure out exactly what's wrong with the scene. He pretty much shut himself in a room with the director to pour over the script (and also skipped a meal, for the second mentioned time this event.) They could not figure it out.

Suddenly, the door opens, and a strange, kinda shady former "friend" of the director walks in. He pretty much compliments the work in a very backhanded, passive aggressive way and acts all chummy towards the director, who is not having it at all. The strange man says something about. something weird. I don't actually remember. but it leaves a sort of impression on the both of them. (Later, the director mentions the fact the strange man is an old college "friend" and current stage director.)

The next day, Rin pops by to check in on the troupe, only to immediately notice Rui Did Not Sleep. He spent the entire night rewatching the current footage, past recordings of Reki's old performances, anything that could possibly help. He didn't get anywhere still.

Emu, Tsukasa, and Nene run up to Rui and hand him a bento box (though it's left unsaid, it's because they know he isn't taking care of himself and want to help him, in whatever way they can.) Emu starts talking about how fun it is they have so many different options for bento, so that everyone can grab the things they like! And, wouldn't it be so cool if they could find a way to personalize each bento to each person!!

Then Rui got it. That's why the scene was off. Though the script works well in the book, it's not suited for a performance. It's not suited for Reki. He runs off to go tell the director his revelation (never having actually accepted the bento offered to him).

Rui explains his thought process to the director, only to find he had already come to his own conclusion. He applauds Rui for making it this far, especially having only done film directing for a short while, but the change that is truly necessary is a step above what Rui suggested. Rather than change the dialogue, he wants to remove it all together. They shoot the change. It was perfect.

The event concludes with WxS watching the initial screening of the movie, really happy with the final product. The rest of the troupe is super impressed with how much Rui helped, even when he feels like he didn't contribute much at all. He wasn't able to fix the scene, after all.

After the screening and WxS's departure, the strange "friend" pops by the theater. He forces the director to show the movie, again simultaneously berating and praising it. He also asks about that "strange young kid you were working with. What's his name, Kamishiro?". He has a feeling their paths may cross again...

Overall, a pretty decent event! Not as earth-shattering as curtain call, but still carries a lot of meaning to Rui's character. It really highlighted his self-sacrificial nature and drive to learn, and how much WxS means to each other. It also sets up a potential new conflict with this mysterious shady guy. Excited to see more of him!

OH MY GOSH, THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! ah this is. wow, yeah, very helpful actually!! i KNEW that guy had shit vibes...

i saw people talking about Rui's "self-sacrificing" nature but didn't know where it had come from until now!! and aww... Emu indirectly solving the problem? there's so much that can be said about how Emu and Rui are a fantastic duo who bring out the best in each other... rotating in my mind...

#asks answered by ace :)

[therecordchanger62279]

MY LIFE IN 10 SONGS

Writing an autobiography is something I always thought of doing, but I’d never see it published because my life is only interesting to me. I would also be reluctant to “name names” or to reveal too much of my personal life to a broader public. Even my friends don’t really know me at all. They all have an idea of who I used to be when they met me, and spent time around me. But now I live a very insulated existence, and none of those I consider true friends (and the list is now very, very short) have even seen me in the past decade, or longer. I have changed in ways they could never begin to imagine or to understand. I have experienced life-changing events, some of them traumatic, of which they are completely unaware because they simply aren’t interested. They never ask about me, never ask how I’m doing. You hear of people dying sometimes in their homes, and their bodies aren’t discovered for weeks or even months. If my wife passes before I do, I’m a candidate for that kind of ending.

But the challenge of putting a life on paper, and trying to make sense of it is something most writers aspire to. So, I started thinking that I might let others do the work for me, and I drew up a list of ten songs that would tell the story of my life as I see it, but in words that are not mine.

Each of the ten songs is designed to convey a sketch of my life as I lived it, and the list as a whole works as point-to-point navigation from the beginning to the end. I’ll list the title, artist, and a brief comment or two that offers some perspective. They are listed chronologically.

   1. Born Under a Bad Sign – Albert King. The first event of my life after birth was that I was put up for adoption. I spent the first two months of my life in an orphanage.

   2. Pleasant Valley Sunday – The Monkees. I was adopted by a middle-class couple. My name was changed, and I was gifted with a mostly safe, and quiet life in the suburbs. The images in this song are very familiar to me.

   3. I Am a Town – Mary-Chapin Carpenter. Lyrically, this is an autobiography of a town. But it is also where I grew up, and what I saw when we travelled. Those images defined, and shaped me through the early years of my life.

   4. I Should’ve Been a Cowboy – Toby Keith. In my earliest days, I wanted to be nothing more than a cowboy, living a simple life, unafraid of a hard day’s labor as long as it provided me with some sense of security, and fed me spiritually. There wasn’t much call for cowboys by the time I had to choose. As it turned out, my original instincts were correct. If only I could’ve been a cowboy, maybe my life would have been what I hoped.

   5. Hellhound on My Trail – Robert Johnson. My working years were gradually overwhelmed by a sense that there was, and always had been a shadow following me, and no matter what I did, no real lasting good would ever come to me.

   6. Is That All There Is? – Peggy Lee. Eventually, the shadow caught up with me, and rather than fight, I surrendered, and made my peace with it. Peggy Lee posed the question. The answer I got was, “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

   7. No One To Run With – Allman Brothers Band. As the places faded into memory, the people all began to drift away, too.

   8. Alone Again (Naturally) – Gilbert O’Sullivan. A lot of people found this song self-pitying when it was released. The rest of us understood it. All the events, and the people who populate a life, fall away in the end, and we, each of us, dies alone. And contained in the song, too, something that most people missed, was the best reason for not committing suicide – nobody would care anyway.

   9. Another Tricky Day – The Who. So, you go on living out the days, one after another. The best you can do is hang on to something to try and survive. I’ll hang on to the music.

 10. High Hopes – Pink Floyd. A final summation of a life lived.

[writefightandflightclub]

it's almost time for chapter two of ride or die 🤗🤗🤗🥰🥰 I'm readyyyyy.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Anyways, I have a question for you.

What made you decide on writing the whole story first before posting instead of like everytime you finished a chapter you posted it? Did u write it chronological? Or was there certain scenes you just HAD to write first bc they were making you sleepless? What's the story behind the fic? Did u had the story in mind when u posted that first chapter years ago? Or was the support of the readers asking for a second part the thought that made you go: "I can totally make this a story"?

Sorry if those are a lot of questions....I'm just a curious girl. 🫣 Feel free to not answer me if u don't wanna.

Take care 💜

Lola, you are giving me LIFE.

Thank you for indulging me. My lil writer heart is so happy to receive these questions! 🧡☺️🥹

So, I decided to write the whole series before posting mainly so I could force myself to finish it! I’ve completed some series before by posting chapters on the fly… but I also have others which are unfinished with the concluding parts languishing in my drafts. So, I really wanted to know this was DONE, in part so I could escape the pressure / guilt (self-imposed) which sometimes comes with winging it. But also so I could give a satisfying conclusion to anyone who chose to kindly invest their precious time in it.

As well, omg. I felt so wrapped up with these characters that I sorta wanted to write their story free of external comments and perspectives. I felt like there were specific places I wanted them to go, and I wonder, if I had been responding to comments as the story was still unfolding, might I have started second guessing things or taking it in a different direction? And don’t get me wrong, comments are my FAVE thing, I live for hearing all the different takes and interpretations, and feedback has been endlessly helpful and meaningful to me. I’m grateful for every single one! I just sorta wanted to let the characters in my head have first dibs on where they wanted to go this time, you know?! ☺️ An honestly, most of the time I have NO IDEA where I’m going with something, but this time I had a little bit more of an idea of the arc I wanted, and so this made sense.

Practically, it was also so I could get the continuity right from chapter to chapter. A later moment might change my perspective on an earlier scene, and if I posted outright I wouldn’t have had the flexibility to make changes.

On that note, the flexibility turned out to be needed. Some things even changed pretty last minute.

I definitely didn’t write it chronologically. I jump around a lot when I write. It’s CHAOS!!!

Tbh, I never had any continuation or larger story in mind when this started, and I fully credit all of the wonderful readers of that one-shot for this being a thing AT ALL beyond that! Chapter 1, in its OG form, was actually my first EVER Santiago one shot, and I loved the pairing so much that, with encouragement, I resolved to do a “part 2”!

However, their situation is actually so complicated that it… wouldn’t resolve quickly, yk?! The characters needed more space to breathe and grow (and to go through some stuff). And so now it’s LONG. It just… expanded as the characters pushed it apart.

I had a blast 🤣🤣🤣

In terms of scenes that were making me sleepless? Hmm. I spent a LOT of time thinking and pondering and playing out variations in my head. A LOT. There’s a flashback scene I was itching to write for a very tender moment contained in it (that chapter is far too long gah). And there’s a scene between Santi and Frankie that’s a real highlight for me.

Also, I cried MANY times while writing this agshsjajshahkahshsjjaj.

Thank you so much for being so sweet and being interested. I can’t tell you how much it means, fr. 🥹🧡

#lovely moots 💕 #ride or die series

[perplexedflower]

Weathering The Storm

Fandom: Professor Layton.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Hershel Layton x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 9,526.

Summary: A trip to America having taken an unexpected turn, a thunderstorm crashing the party, Luke having fallen ill… Under such circumstances, [Y/N] and Hershel have no other choice but to seek warmth and comfort inside her home, but little did they know that the real shelter is their love for each other.

Chronology: Any game.

~~~~~~~~~~

In a bang, [Y/N] opened the door fully, barging into the house, followed closely by Layton, standing behind her. Hurrying inside, she let the way into the hall open to him, before she closed the front door behind him after he had entered.

"Take Luke into your bedroom." She told him in the form of an order, one he did not mind being given considering the circumstances.

So, without saying a word, the Professor promptly made his way to his bedroom, carrying his young apprentice in his arms, and leaving multiple, wet sets of footprints behind him. [Y/N] followed after him and watched him approach the bed before he set the boy down on it, on top of the bedsheets.

She stepped closer to him as Layton leaned forward and rested a wet hand on Luke's equally-as-wet forehead with a pensive expression.

"The wetness of his skin makes the estimation a little complex, but it would seem he has a slight fever." He said after a soft sigh.

"Well, then it's as we suspected: Luke must have caught a cold of some kind." She declared as she squinted her eyes just slightly. "But... how is that even possible? I know we did run under the rain, but it didn't feel like we were caught in the storm for that long, not long enough it would cause someone to fall sick..."

"Indeed, this is rather odd." Layton stated as he crossed one arm on his chest and rested his other hand on his chin.

As [Y/N] stared at Luke with a worried look, the Professor adopted a more reflective expression while closing his eyes.

Perhaps Luke's physical condition was already not at its best by the time the rainstorm hit. He thought to himself. After all, we awoke at dawn this morning and spent the entire day walking without having barely had any time to sit down and relax... But even then, Luke should-

"Either way, 'how' and 'why' don't matter much right now." [Y/N] spoke up, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Luke is undeniably ill, and his condition will only worsen the longer he remains drenched. The first thing we should do is dry him up a bit."

With his eyes now open, he looked in front of himself, at her, then down at the poor boy, before he nodded briefly.

"You're right." He said in agreement while he was already starting to make his way out of the room. "Wait here and watch over him as I go gather us some towels, [Y/N]."

She nodded in response, but he had already left her sight, causing her to sigh softly.

I wish Hershel would let me handle some things, instead of taking on every task by himself. She told herself with a slight frown. I would have offered to go to the bathroom to fetch a towel or two myself, but he took off before I could say even a single word...

Before she could dwell on her thoughts for too long, still standing beside the bed, he made his way back into the bedroom, holding a few towels in his arms: picking the largest one out of the stack, he took a step closer to [Y/N] and handed it over to her.

"Here, [Y/N]." He said in his usual serious tone, concealing a strong sense of worry, one she was unaware of.

"Thank you." She told him, just as seriously.

With the towel now in hand, she turned back around and leaned forward over Luke's body, then proceeded to delicately wipe his face with it, along with the rest of his wet skin. And as she did so, Layton stood behind her and opened his eyes wider, visibly surprised.

Unbeknownst to her, I had purposefully picked this towel to give her for herself... and yet her immediate instinct is to pay no attention to her own condition to take care of Luke instead.

As he quietly watched her dab the soft fabric of the towel on Luke's skin, his lips formed a gentle smile while his cheeks were colored with a faint touch of red.

Always putting others before herself, always volunteering to help... always being here for Luke and me... Hm, [Y/N] really hasn't changed a bit.

One day, [Y/N] had come to meet Layton and Luke for the first time, by pure coincidence: the Professor and his apprentice were then working on a case, investigating a mystery, which had just so happened to involve her as well. Though she had no prior experience in detective work and puzzle-solving, she was working the case too, on her end; after she had met them and had become acquainted with them, the three of them had decided to keep the investigation going together, as a team. In the end, they managed to solve that mystery with the help of each other, and this adventure allowed them to get closer and learn more about one another. And after everything had come to an end, [Y/N] and Layton had promised each other to keep in touch, before they had parted ways.

[Y/N], who had now finished drying Luke's skin, held the wet towel in her hands as she took a step away from the bed and turned around to the Professor.

"Alright, I'm done." She declared with a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, [Y/N]." He said with a smile. "However, in order to ensure Luke's fever goes down, we still need to change him out of his soaked clothes and into dry ones."

"Right." She responded with a brief nod of the head.

She turned back to Luke, her towel still over her arm, but froze before her hands even reached his body: only then did she realize it would be relatively awkward for her, a young woman to undress a little boy, even if she was to leave his underwear on.

"... Right." She slowly repeated as she retracted her hands.

With rosy cheeks and a look of discomfort on her face, she turned back to Layton and stared down at the ground.

"I'll... be leaving Luke to you." She told him while she cleared her throat.

"Don't worry, I'm going to take care of him." He reassured her without even an ounce of uneasiness. "In the meantime, you should head to your room to dry yourself and change, as well."

As he said those words, he motioned his right hand toward her clothes, still dripping wet: and after having looked down at herself, she looked up at his face, only to be greeted with a warm smile.

"I wouldn't want you to fall ill, too." He said tenderly.

Still standing in front of him, still admiring the smile he was giving her, she felt the blush on her cheeks intensify.

"Y-Yes." She muttered as she struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "... Thank you, Professor."

With her eyes turned to the ground, she made her way outside of the room as she felt his kind gaze on her, after which he closed the door behind her. Now in the hallway, she tried her best to set her thoughts aside and headed to her bedroom, walking through the dark, dim interior; and as her wet shoes roamed the wooden flooring, she listened to the pouring rain, to the raging wind, to the storm still roaring outside.

There's rarely ever any rain here, who could have known such a storm would hit the town just during our trip? She asked herself while she looked through a window on the way. In fact, with such weather, it doesn't even really feel like we've left London at all...

Very shortly after having met Layton, [Y/N], who originated from America and had been living there all her life had made a rather definitive decision: she had chosen to leave her hometown behind and move to London. Although Britain was in no way her cup of tea, she was convinced of her intention, for she had a reason. As strange as it had been for her, experiencing these kinds of feelings for the first time, she had fallen for the Professor, the second she had met him. The investigation had brought them closer to one another, it had created a bond between them, or, at the very least, a bond she had felt, even if it may not have been the case for him. Whether he had feelings for her as well, she cared little: her adventure alongside him had been one of a kind for her, the very first of this kind, and she wanted to be sure she could experience more of them in the future. A simple promise had not been enough for her, she had wanted to make sure they could see each other and work together again, for certain. So, she had not hesitated long before deciding to pack her things and move to London, much to Layton and Luke's surprise when she had delivered the news to them. But, undeniably, they had also been very happy to have her close. From that point on, the Professor, his young apprentice, and his now-official companion had formed a trio, which would go on to solve mysteries together, all across the country and beyond. A new life that had greatly pleased [Y/N], helping her grow as a person and giving her a sense of purpose, all while her relationship with the Professor had strengthened and evolved, with each passing day.

Before she even knew it, she had reached the doorstep of her bedroom and ordered her thoughts to quiet down as she grabbed the knob and turned it to open the door. Once inside, she approached a small desk set not too far from her bed, on which she had put her suitcase; she unzipped and opened it completely, in search of her dry, clean pajamas for her to change out of her drenched clothes.

As she rummaged through her belongings, her fingers came in contact with an envelope, which made her stop her search to extract it instead: with weary eyes, she contemplated the envelope in her hands, containing the very letter that had brought her, Layton, and Luke there in the first place.

One morning, while the streets of London had been relatively quiet, [Y/N] had been supposed to meet up with Layton and Luke in his office, at Gressenheller University, to relax around a cup of tea; however, as the clock had struck 10 AM, the time of their rendezvous, she had not shown up. The pair could sense it was odd and Layton, growing worried, had decided to head over to her flat to check if everything was in order, while he had asked Luke to stay put and wait for him to return with her. Once standing before [Y/N]'s front door, he gently knocked while asking if she was inside. But as his fingers tapped on the door, it had opened on its own, visibly unlocked already, and he had found the young woman sitting on her sofa, a letter in hand, which she had been seemingly sobbing over. He had stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and made his way to her, before sitting down beside her on the sofa.

"This letter was just delivered to me... It was written and sent by a friend of my family, one of our neighbors residing in America... to let me know my father has recently died after a workplace accident... And as the only child of my parents, all of my father's fortune and inheritance is to become mine, including his house... My presence is requested back in America, in my hometown." She had explained through her tears. "First, my mother, who died when she gave birth to me... and now my father... Deprived of both of my parents... I've become an orphan, Professor..."

Breaking into tears once more, [Y/N] had turned to Layton and embraced him, clinging tight to his chest as she cried in the crook of his neck. Although caught off guard at first, he had promptly embraced her back, holding her close to him and circling her with his arms.

"... Would you like for me to come along to America with you, [Y/N]?" He had asked her after a minute of silence, speaking with politeness and sincere kindness. "You are entirely free to refuse, though I would think it beneficial for you to have company around during these hard times."

"... Please, yes..." She had answered with a slow nod as she had tightened her grasp on him.

[Y/N] reminisced about that day, about that morning, about that moment she had shared with Layton, and she felt once again surrounded by warmth and comfort, just with the sheer memory of having been held in his arms coming back to her, which also reddened her face in the process.

Now's not the time to dive back into memories... especially not ones of this kind. She scolded herself as she put the letter back into her suitcase. I need to hurry up and remove my wet clothes before I grow too cold.

So, she began to undress, starting with her coat, but as she took it off, she sensed something stored inside one of the jetted pockets, before she remembered what it was.

Oh, right, my notebook!

She pulled the notebook out of the pocket and proceeded to promptly inspect it, then sighed in relief.

Phew, it seems it hasn't been damaged by the rain at all. She thought as she flipped the pages one by one. I had already forgotten it was in my pocket... I had already forgotten about the investigation, what with the rainstorm and Luke. But then again, none of us had any idea we would find ourselves investigating here, to begin with...

Barely a day after having received the letter, [Y/N] had gathered some of her belongings and stuffed them inside a suitcase, which she would take with her on her trip to America. As logic would have had it, she and the Professor had thought it more suitable for them to take Luke along with them rather than leave him alone in London, so the young boy and his mentor had packed some luggage as well before the three of them had made the trip together; thankfully for them, everything had gone smoothly and they had made it to America without running into any inconveniences. The trio had arrived in [Y/N]'s hometown in the morning and had first decided to visit her newly-acquired house, in which they would be residing for the time of their stay. After having greeted and exchanged a few words with her friend and neighbor, the young woman had been given the keys to the house. The three of them had explored every room before they had made themselves at home: the house was relatively modest and small, but everything was there, from a bathroom to a kitchen and a living space. However, there were only two bedrooms, both furnished with a double bed, so Layton had designated the arrangement for them.

"Given the house is your property, [Y/N], it is only right for you to occupy one of the bedrooms by yourself, while Luke and myself will occupy the other." He had stated with a smile. "And before you start pouting and arguing, my boy, let me remind you that it is a gentleman's duty to put a lady's needs before his own."

Once their luggage had been set in their respective rooms, the trio had left the house and headed to the center of town: on the way there, [Y/N] had shown Layton and Luke around the neighborhood, then around town, introducing them to a few people and showing them how peaceful and remote of a district it was, far from the rest of the bustling cities. Shortly after the young woman had given them a quick tour of the town, the time had come for her to attend her father's funeral; accompanied by Layton and Luke, she had stood through the ceremony of the burial with a heavy heart. Once the ceremony had come to a close, the Professor had tried lifting her spirits by reminding her their afternoon had just begun, and he had offered for the three of them to take a stroll around town to change her mind. However, as they had done so, they had come face-to-face with the unexpected: what had started as a simple catching-up-with-old-friends for [Y/N] had quickly turned into much more, and through her exchanges with the townsfolk, she had learned of a series of strange mysteries that all tied back to her family house, which was now hers, and extended to most of the neighborhood. Although this trip to America had been planned to last only a day or two, [Y/N], Layton, and Luke were now determined to stay for longer, the time for them to unravel this string of mysteries. And so, they had started their investigation in the afternoon, on which they had worked until the evening came. After a long day filled with questions and surprises, the trio had decided to eat dinner at a local restaurant to unwind. But just as they had walked out of the establishment after having finished eating, the sky turned gray, then completely black, and within a matter of mere seconds, they were caught in the middle of a raging rainstorm, accompanied by strikes of thunder. With no other choice but to call it a day and head back home immediately, they put their investigation on hold for the moment and made their way to the house. However, halfway there, Luke had suddenly started to slow down the pace, and it had not taken long for the two adults to notice something was wrong: just as Layton had kneeled beside him to check on him, the boy had collapsed into his arms, seemingly unconscious, having presumably fallen ill due to the storm. With no time to lose, he had taken him in his arms and carried him under the pouring rain, hurrying back to the house along with [Y/N].

The investigation will have to wait for now. She mentally declared as she closed the small notebook and put it down beside her suitcase. After all, it's about time we get some rest, anyway. I think all three of us have earned a good night of sleep, especially Luke.

With this thought in mind, she continued to undress, removing her soggy clothes one by one and setting them on the backrest of the desk chair: soon enough, she was practically fully naked, and it did not take long for her body to tremble, feeling cold due to how wet her skin was. From where she was standing, she reached for the large towel she had kept with her and grabbed it with one hand, before she wrapped it around her body.

After having dried completely, she removed the towel and changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of shorts.

I'm probably going to be a little cold wearing such light clothes under such low temperatures, but I don't have much of a choice. She thought with a sigh as she slipped into her shorts. I didn't pack warm clothes... given the usual weather here, I didn't think it would be needed.

Now dry and changed into something clean, she gathered her clothes in one pile, along with the towel, and exited her bedroom to head to the bathroom. There, she hung them one by one, leaving them to dry for the night; then, she decided to go back to Layton and Luke's bedroom, in order to make sure everything was alright on their side.

She arrived in front of the bedroom door, which was not closed all the way, and pushed it open with the palm of her hand without a second thought. Inside, right in the middle of the room stood the Professor, undoing the last button of his orange shirt, his bare chest partially exposed to her eyes: her eyes, which opened wide at the unexpected sight, a sight that made her entire face turn pink with blush.

"Oh, my goodness-"

As the words quickly spilled out of her mouth, she hurriedly reached for the handle and closed the door in a swift movement.

"I-I'm terribly sorry, P-Professor, I s-should have knocked- My mind was somewhere else, I-I apologize-" She promptly mumbled in haste from the other side of the door.

Inside the room, Layton's hands had come to a stop, his fingers still holding the fabric of his shirt as the tips of his ears grew red.

"It's all right, [Y/N]..." He told her as calmly as he could, pretending to be unfazed.

But the look in his eyes betrayed him, a look that was fortunately for him unseen by her at that moment. Still standing with her back against the door, [Y/N] brought both of her hands up to her face and cupped her cheeks with them as she closed her eyes shut tight.

Let's forget this ever happened, I should go back to my bedroom for now and wait for Hershel to be finished changing before going back in.

But just as she opened her eyes, just as she was about to take a step forward, her attention was caught by a series of sounds coming from inside the room: the sounds of Layton continuing to undress, unaware of [Y/N]'s presence right outside his door. She perceived the rustling of his shirt, which she assumed he had now removed completely, and the sheer mental vision she imagined of him topless was enough to make her close her eyes back, now completely flushed.

But it did not stop there: although her eyes were now closed, her ears picked up on the sound of his belt, which he was seemingly removing from around his waist. The loud rain pouring heavily outside the house seemed to have gone completely silent for but a moment as she listened closely to his hands sliding his pants down his legs, and, before long, she found herself deep in thought, surrounded by her imagination, growing more and more flustered with each passing second.

Only when the door suddenly opened behind her was she brought back to reality, and upon turning around, she realized she had been daydreaming the entire time the Professor was changing, as he was now fully dry and dressed in a thin sweater and a new pair of pants.

With a smile, as if nothing had happened, he looked at her, a smile that greatly contrasted the expression of awkwardness visible on her face.

"You came to check up on Luke, didn't you?" He casually asked her.

"Y-Yes." She answered with a brief nod, every part of her still reeling from what had been crossing her mind just a minute ago.

He stepped to the side, allowing her to see inside the room, to see Luke still lying in bed, and she remained standing at the doorway as she stared at him from a distance, her face displaying both a feeling of sadness and one of relief.

"I made him remove the clothes he was wearing before I put them to dry, then I dressed him in his pyjamas." He told her while he turned to look at the boy, speaking softly so as to not wake him up. "There isn't much left for us to do, now, aside from letting him rest for the night."

As he finished his sentence, he stepped out of the bedroom, joining [Y/N] in the hallway, before he closed the door in front of him. Then, with no specific goal or destination in mind, the two of them started to pace through the hall, walking beside each other as the rain kept on falling just outside the house.

"Speaking of which, Professor, I was wondering: where do you intend on sleeping tonight?" She asked him somewhat concerned while she turned to him. "Since Luke is sick and has to recover, he needs a bed for himself, and you would risk catching his illness if you were to sleep next to him... So, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, I will admit it isn't optimal, but I'm considering staying in the living space for the night." He answered calmly, though with just a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Just when he said this, the two of them arrived in said living space: and just when they did, she stopped herself in her steps to turn her whole body to him.

"Professor, you're not going to sleep here!" She exclaimed with bewilderment as she gestured at the room with her hand.

"I'm afraid no other options are available to us, [Y/N]." He said as he stared at the sofa placed in the middle of the room.

"... Well, there's always my room, my bed." She told him after having pondered briefly.

In a swift yet gentle movement, Layton turned his head to the young woman, a look of shock on his face.

"[Y/N], I couldn't possibly take your bed." He stated while he stared into her eyes. "This is your house, your bedroom, Luke and I are only your guests. Besides, this would mean you would be the one to sleep on this sofa, and I would rather have you sleep comfortably in a bed."

The way he spoke about her made her blush faintly, but it also made her close her eyes with a sigh.

Ugh, why does he always have to be so stubborn? She asked herself with a slow headshake. This pointless bickering will get us nowhere; Hershel wants me to take the bed, and I want him to take it. There has got to be a way to settle this debate...

Holding her chin in one hand for a few seconds, she kept her eyes closed as she continued to think, until a thought crossed her mind, which made her open her eyes back: with blushing cheeks but a resolute smile, she took a step forward and placed herself before him.

"This is my house, right, Professor?" She started smugly, still grinning. "And if it is my house, then it's also my rules, what I say goes. And right now, what I say is that you have to take my bed for the night."

As a man whose intellect allowed him to prepare for every outcome possible, Layton was only ever rarely caught by surprise when the unexpected occurred: but seeing [Y/N] standing before him in such a way, addressing him with such confidence, staring straight into his eyes, he simply could not conceal the astonishment visible on his face.

"I know you're only being your usual, gentlemanly self, Professor, you want what is best for me, and I am grateful for it." She continued in a softer tone. "But I, too, want what is best for you. And I can assure you that it truly doesn't bother me to share my bed with you, if it means you earn the night of peaceful sleep you deserve."

"Share?" He repeated, still astonished, his cheeks now slightly pink.

For just a second, silence reigned. And then, with eyes wide open, [Y/N] gasped lightly.

"Oh- D-Don't get the wrong idea- I didn't... mean it like that-" She promptly explained with a face that had turned completely red. "What I meant was-... This seems to be the only way both of us will settle this disagreement. I figured, considering we each want the other to have the bed for the night, if we both have it, then we will both be satisfied..."

Still standing in front of the young woman whose face was now turned to the ground, Layton found himself at a loss for words.

Such an offer is...

He simply did not know what to think; but as more and more thoughts started to fill his brain, he stared at [Y/N] with blushing cheeks and decided to let his heart guide him.

"... All right." He finally said with a nod, his lips shaped into a shy smile. "After all, you do have a point, your reasoning is quite logical."

Upon hearing he accepted, [Y/N] looked back up at him with an expression of surprise, but that was replaced with one of glee within a matter of a second.

"It's settled, then." She said with her cheeks still sprinkled with blush. "In that case, Professor, you're free to move your trunk into my bedroom, if you wish to go retrieve it from the other bedroom. In the meantime, I will tidy things up in mine."

He responded to her with a silent nod, deprived of words but accompanied by a warm smile. So, while Layton made his way back into the bedroom Luke was sleeping in to gather his belongings, [Y/N] headed to her own bedroom and promptly put the room in order for him; after she was finished, she decided to dim the lights by turning them all off except for one, the small lamp on the nightstand by her side of the bed, which provided just enough light to the room for the eyes to see.

Once she deemed the room suitable for nighttime, she walked to the bed and sat down on top of the sheets, before she closed her eyes and peacefully listened to the sound of raindrops right outside the window. Soon after, the bedroom door opened and entered the Professor, his luggage in hand: and when she opened her eyes and turned her head to him, seeing him step inside then close the door behind him, all in a very quiet fashion, she simply could not help but feel her face grow contaminated with blush.

It's still so odd for me to realize Hershel and I are... going to be sharing a bedroom for the night, sleeping in the same bed... so close to one another...

She watched him approach the bed, sending a warm yet somewhat flustered smile her way, and a sudden thought crossed her mind; in a swift and sudden movement, she stood up from the mattress and turned her body to him, an embarrassed look on her face.

"Oh, hum, I forgot to consult you beforehand on which side of the bed you would rather prefer sleeping on, I'm sorry- I claimed this side, but it's completely fine by me if you wish for us to swap places..."

With a low, charming chuckle, he sat down on the bed, opposite her.

"It's all right, [Y/N], there's no need to apologise." He said in a comforting tone of voice. "You can stay on this side, it's fine by me either way."

Still filled with awkwardness, the young woman slowly nodded in silence before she sat back down, her gaze directed at the ground. She raised her head up just slightly, enough to look through the nearest window, to look at the rain falling, and a sigh escaped her lips.

"I know Luke is going to be ok, I know he will be better by tomorrow, but I simply cannot help but worry for him, I have trouble getting him out of my mind... And with this storm-"

But she suddenly cut herself short: halfway through her sentence, she turned around to look at Layton, only to be met with a sight so rare it took her breath away. The sight of him removing his top hat, gently lifting it from the top of his head before setting it down on his bedside table. Although she had known him for quite some time now, it was still very uncommon for [Y/N] to ever see Layton take off his hat, and as such, whenever it did happen, she made sure she cherished the moment wholly, admiring this side of him he never let show to anyone. And this moment was no different; if anything, it meant even more to her than any previous times she had seen him without his hat. Because for the first time since she had met him, she was experiencing a truly intimate moment with him, one that was different from everything else they had shared together before.

Before she realized it, she became entirely absorbed by her thoughts and her eyes kept admiring his face, barely even blinking; a look it seemed he was oblivious to.

"I know Luke's condition weighs heavy on your mind, [Y/N]." He said in a tone that was both serious and tender. "It weighs heavy on mine, as well. But we have had a long and wearing day, and what you need is some rest. Try clearing your mind of today's worries, of the storm and of Luke, and I'm sure you will manage to find sleep tonight."

His words pulled her out of her thoughts and back into reality, yet they left her just as shy: to hear him care so much about her, about her well-being, it warmed her entire soul.

She stared at him, still in admiration, but this time with deep affection.

"... Thank you, Professor." She said with a smile. "I'll try following your advice as best as I can."

To that, Layton smiled back at her without a word, after which he began to properly get in bed. She followed his lead, placing herself underneath the heavy sheets, then extended one of her arms to her nightstand.

"May I turn off the light?"

"Please, do."

As her hand reached the lamp, she felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink while an uncontrollable smile appeared on her lips.

"Then, goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, [Y/N]."

Her fingers flicked off the switch and the room was plunged into darkness. Darkness, and silence. A silence filled with a sense of awkwardness, of shyness, of restraint. And a sense of love, too.

[Y/N] and Layton were both lying down on their sides, facing their respective ways, their backs turned to each other, and neither of them added another word. The room was so quiet, [Y/N] could hear him breathing calmly behind her, and she could only assume he had already fallen asleep; she, on the other hand, was incapable of accomplishing such a task at that moment.

With her sharp breath and wide-open eyes, she was too emotionally compromised to be able to find sleep and instead listened to the rain as she fell prey to her thoughts.

Hershel seems to have already managed to fall asleep... but how can he? For the two of us to sleep in the same bed... I know there really should be no need for me to make a fuss out of this situation, but... I simply can't help it. To be this close to him, to know he's right behind me, sleeping safe and sound... by my side...

She closed her eyes tight as she wrapped herself in her own arms, growing more and more flushed by the second.

I can't permit myself to obsess over such thoughts... especially if I want to be able to sleep tonight. I need to take a deep breath and relax. I need to stretch my legs, to drink some cool water, this is what I need.

With this in mind, she slowly pushed the bedsheets aside and carefully slipped out of bed, making sure she was quiet enough so as to not wake him up; with faint footsteps, she walked around the bed and to the door, then she exited the room without a sound, closing the door behind her. And the bedroom fell silent. Or so it seemed.

The very second the door closed, Layton, who was left alone inside immediately exhaled a deep, heavy breath through his mouth while his body began to move on the bed.

Good heavens, what have I gotten myself into? He asked himself as he brought his hand to his forehead, concealing the blush on his face.

His eyes then fell on the door, before they drifted to the other side of the bed, [Y/N]'s side.

I believed her to be asleep... but it appears I was mistaken. Could she, too, find it hard to be at peace in such a situation, under such circumstances?

More pensive than ever, he lay on his back and brought one hand up to his face as he stared straight at the ceiling.

Such a reaction is quite understandable, after all: as a gentleman, it is my duty to ensure [Y/N]'s well-being and to never behave inappropriately toward her. But to spend the night in the same bed as her, it breaks this very duty of mine and goes against all my principles, all my morals... Then again, come to think of it, she is the one to have made me such an offer, so I can only assume she sees no issue with sharing her bed with me, as she has stated... Still, I cannot shake the feeling that my presence beside hers in this bed is rather wrong. [Y/N] may be an adult, but she remains a young woman, younger than me by about ten years... What would she think of me, in this regard? Would she see my attitude as unbecoming, as provocative, or even as misplaced? But how could she perceive my love for her in such ways? After all, the human heart simply cannot be helped, and I should feel no shame for the place she holds in mine... Oh, but it represents such an arduous task to make my feelings known to her. I hardly dare touch her, what if she took offense? Nevertheless, the facts are that this situation we are finding ourselves in constitutes the most ideal opportunity for me to approach her, on a physical level... But-

The bedroom door suddenly opened, interrupting Layton in his train of thought and putting an abrupt end to his inner conflict. [Y/N] entered the room before she closed the door behind her, just as quietly as she had opened it the first time around, still believing him to be asleep; she was back from the kitchen, where she had gone to drink a refreshing glass of cool water, which had helped her feel a little better. Additionally, she had also used this time to go check on Luke, once more, to make sure he was still doing all right: upon seeing the young boy lying down on the bed, sleeping peacefully, her mind had instantly been put at ease, further comforting her state of mind.

She made her way around the bed, back to her side, her bare feet slowly pacing the cold wooden flooring. Once she had reached her side of the bed, she gently sat down before she slid underneath the sheets; but although her voice remained completely mute, her body betrayed her.

There, against the mattress, her limbs began to shiver, her skin growing covered with goosebumps. Although she was now wrapped in the warm bedsheets, she was still only wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, and having gotten out of bed had lowered her body temperature greatly: she may not have been feeling this cold only a few minutes prior, but leaving the bedroom to wander around the house had led her to feel quite chilled.

From his side of the bed, Layton could feel her body quiver, he could almost hear her shaky breath; in a slow and graceful movement, he quietly turned around, now lying on his left side, facing [Y/N]'s back turned to him. And he stared at her, at her figure amidst the dark, at her trembling arms, and at her head resting on the pillows. He admired the lines of her body, although partly concealed by the bedsheets, seemingly not thick enough to warm her up fully. His eyes traced her back, and as they went up and reached her exposed shoulders, for one of the very first times in his life, his mind went blank, his thoughts stopped altogether: not even an ounce of hesitation flowed through his veins as he extended both of his arms toward her and reached for her shoulders.

He rested the palms of his hands on her, in a sudden yet gentle way, gentle enough for her not to be startled, but enough to make her turn around in surprise. Her body turned, just at the moment he moved closer to her. And when it did, she found herself in his arms, her face against the crook of his neck, his hands on her body.

"H-Hershel...?"

Above her, his voice let out a warm and loving chuckle, yet so quiet it was almost inaudible.

"How I have longed to hear you address me by my name, dear..." He said softly, his tone calm and relaxed.

Only then did she realize she had called the Professor by his first name, too overcome by her emotions to think rationally; she felt flushed, more than she ever had before, her face overheating at the contact of his skin against hers, of her hands on his chest, of his fingers holding her arms, of his head resting above hers. Everything felt as though it was wrapping around her, enveloping her in a blanket of comfort, peacefulness, and love.

But it all felt so surreal, so unbelievable, and she was too bashful to articulate even a single word, no matter how much she wished she could speak.

"... I could not help but notice you were trembling while lying underneath the bedsheets." Layton told her, a hint of concern in his voice. "... Are you cold?"

"Not... anymore..." She shyly answered in a whisper.

His hands on her arms held her just a little tighter as a faint sigh of relief escaped his lips, then silence fell between them. Not a long silence, one that could not have lasted more than ten seconds, but one that felt everlasting, until he sighed once more, this time in a way that felt more embarrassed than confident.

"... I feel I need to apologise for my behaviour, [Y/N]." He started, his words filled with awkwardness. "It was improper of me to initiate such physical contact with you, especially without your consent..."

"And yet, you're still holding me." She told him in a gentle tone, her fingers still pressed to his chest.

Caught off guard by her unexpected statement, Layton opened his eyes wider, a light gasp slipping through his open lips; it only took him a second to regain his composure, but no matter how calm he wished his face to appear to be, the intensifying blush on his cheeks betrayed his true state of mind.

"I... still am, yes." He admitted in a shameful voice.

But despite the sense of guilt he seemed to be carrying, his aura still radiated confidence; confidence, and love.

"Because although my mind tells me what I am doing is wrong, my heart forbids me to let go of you, now that you are in my arms."

As he said those words, her hands on his chest could feel his heartbeat quicken, just as much as her own.

"Hershel... I don't want you to let go of me, either." She slowly confessed as she closed her eyes.

"I know, my dear." He responded with a gentle smile, his cheeks still red. "But..."

Leaving the beginning of his sentence to trail off, his hands went back up to her shoulders, which he gently grabbed to pull her body away from his just slightly, before he looked down at her: and with her face now no longer squeezed against his collarbone, she was free to look up, back at him, and, at last, she could finally see his face again, admiring the tenderness of his features and the glimpse in his eyes as he stared at her. But just as she was about to give him a faint, shy smile, she felt his hands on her shoulders pulling her up, up to his eye level, and her lips took a completely different shape.

There she lay, on her right side, her head comfortably resting on a pillow, face-to-face with Layton, and she felt her heart skip more than only one beat; a single glimpse of his eyes meeting hers was enough to make her look away, her cheeks turning such a bright red she wished she could hide in the darkness.

A reaction that seemed to amuse him, judging by the charming smile on his face and the low-pitched, affectionate chuckle he let out.

"Now, [Y/N], there's no need for you to feel so shy around me." He told her in a reassuring voice while he took her in his arms once more.

As his arms wrapped around her, she remained quiet, her gaze still avoiding his, her cheeks still burning hot.

"Please, dear, look at me." He requested with tenderness.

Unable to let his demand go unfulfilled, [Y/N] gathered all her strength and looked straight in front of her, at his face, shining with a warm smile.

"There you go." He said in an encouraging tone.

The sweetness in his words made her want to look away again, but she remained assertive and continued staring into his eyes.

"I agree this situation is... quite unconventional... especially for myself." Layton began, slightly embarrassed, his eyes shifting positions. "I am not accustomed to interactions of this kind... This is all relatively new to me. So I fully understand the cause and reason behind your timidity, as I share it myself."

And yet, no such emotion was visible on his face: despite the redness of his skin that lingered, his bashful expression faded away to be replaced with one of softness, of affection.

"Nevertheless, I know you to be strong, and I am asking you to remain strong, just for the time being."

She gazed at him and slightly nodded her head to him, silently but tenderly: and as he sighed deeply, he gazed back at her, back into her eyes.

"Do you remember what I had told you, the day we parted ways for the first time, at the end of our very first adventure together? I told you I could see potential in you, potential that would bloom over time, over trials and tribulations. And I was not solely referring to your potential in mystery-solving, but also your potential as an individual... And it seems my intuition was right."

The Professor stared at her, at all of her being, with unconditional love, one that no one had ever seen in his eyes before, one that felt pure and true.

"[Y/N], you are a wonderful young woman, who possesses great intelligence and a remarkable set of skills. You are always so full of life, and you feel such compassion and empathy, not only toward Luke and myself but toward strangers, as well. You are distinguished, and please do not regard my words as indecent when I say I find your physique beautiful, in every way. You have a natural charm to yourself that makes people drawn to you, the sound of your voice is more soothing to the ears than music, the way you smile and laugh is more vibrant than a ray of sunshine, you care deeply for Luke, you are dedicated to every task you take on, you have a unique sense of humour, you are an amazing opponent at chess, you make exquisite tea, and... You are the most extraordinary woman I have had the chance to meet... in a very long time. You have made every aspect of my life better since the very first day I met you, and I can only hope I have also been able to make yours better in return. For long, I have wondered how I could possibly repay you for all that you have done for me, a way to thank you accordingly. And I believe tonight has opened my eyes, and, above all else, has opened my heart, and now I know my answer: the only way for me to truthfully make you understand how much you mean to me is by confessing my feelings for you. Pardon me for being this direct with you, [Y/N], but I am in love with you. And I have been in love with you for long, now, longer than you may be imagining. You complete me, you make me feel whole, I feel understood when I am by your side, and there is nothing I dread more than being separated from you. Behind every great man, there is a woman: and it may be too presumptuous of me to make such claims, but I think of you as mine... and I would not want it to be any other woman than you."

[Y/N] shed one tear, then another, then another.

"Hershel..." She murmured in a trembling voice.

His love declaration had left her at a loss for words, her heart overflowing with emotions and her mind submerged by the series of compliments he had showered her with. He stared straight at her, straight at her weeping face, and he hesitated for some time, debating whether or not to let his feelings guide him, then he finally gave in to his heart's orders: although hesitantly, he approached a hand to her face and held it delicately, his fingers on her neck while his palm rested on her jawline. And his thumb slowly brushed her cheek, wiping it of her tears, all with a glimmer of love in his eyes.

Upon feeling the warmth of his touch, she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, firm yet gentle; when she opened her eyes again and they reached his face, it was clear to her that judging by the look he was displaying, he had not meant for his confession to be this lengthy, and it would have seemed a part of him felt remorse, for fear of having said too much, of having gone too far. And [Y/N] saw it, so she decided to chase away any doubt he may still have had, once and for all.

Just as delicately as he had put his hand on her face, she brought one of her hands up and rested it over his, interlocking her fingers with his. The gesture surprised Layton, whose face turned from pink to red.

"I love you too, Hershel." She bluntly declared with an affectionate smile. "I... apologize for confessing in such a straightforward manner... my speech is surely going to be shorter than yours. But I know you need to hear these words, I can see it on your face: even now, you still wonder if I reciprocate your feelings, if your love is matched by mine, and I want you to know that yes, it is. You need to know, and I want you to know, I want you to know just how important you are to me. Perhaps you hadn't noticed, back then, but I fell for you the very day I met you for the first time. I fell for your intelligence, for your manners, for your words, for the way you think, for your personality, for each and every single one of your qualities, and for each and every single one of your imperfections, as few as they are. I'm sure it was evident to you that the sole reason I had to move to London was you... Now that I had met you, I simply could not see myself away from you, as shameful and selfish as it may have been of me. But I don't regret having done it, because it has granted me the chance to spend time with you, to accompany you and Luke on your adventures, to see myself grow alongside you, to help you whenever you needed me... and these past few years I have spent by your side have been the most wonderful years of my life. I would often wonder whether you felt the same way I did, whether I had embellished your life the same way you have embellished mine. And, now, I know it to be true, and I have never felt happier before. And I want you to feel such joy, too, Hershel, so I want you to know how much I love you."

By the time she reached the end of her confession, her wish had come true: Layton's face bore an expression that combined relief and shyness, but, above all else, displayed sheer happiness. Happiness that was rapidly replaced by bashfulness, however, as the two of them were well aware of what awaited them now: with their faces so close to one another, only a few inches away, Layton was unsure, wavering. But when he stared deeply into [Y/N]'s eyes, he could discern a spark, a spark of love that was calling to him, and uncertainty left him as quickly as it had invaded him.

With his hand still resting on her skin, he leaned yet even closer to her face and squinted his eyes, before closing them completely the second he made his lips meet hers. One of her hands found its way to his cheek, while the other grabbed hold of the collar of his sweater, gripping it tighter the longer the kiss lasted; a tender, affectionate kiss, that carried such yearning, such love. A kiss that took their body temperature higher and higher, to the point of feeling like they were overheating. A kiss that felt as soft as the bed they were in, as warm as the sheets that were covering them. And yet, a kiss that only lasted but a few seconds: and when it ended, reality reappeared around them as they opened their eyes back, back in the arms of each other.

The cold chills [Y/N] had been feeling some time ago had now vanished, having been replaced by a burning love, burning within her soul, and which she knew was burning within his, as well: she could see it displayed on his face. But what was most visible on his face was an expression of widespread timidity, one she could not help but find amusing.

"I... hope it satisfied you." He said in a soft yet embarrassed tone, avoiding making eye contact with her. "A true gentleman should always know how to properly please a lady, but I must admit I... had not kissed someone in a long time... my apologies, dear."

And more amusing even were his words, which made her giggle cutely.

"There's no need to apologize, Hershel." She told him kindly to reassure him. "Your kiss was... more than just satisfying, I assure you."

The blush on his face only intensified upon him hearing her words, but they also helped shape his lips into a smile, a warm smile she sent back to him. Suddenly, a thunderclap roared outside the window, startling [Y/N] who instinctively snuggled against Layton, burying her face in the crook of his neck; immediately, he took her into his embrace and held her tight, wrapping her securely.

"Everything is ok, I'm here." He comforted her in a calm though slightly concerned voice.

The two of them had been so engrossed in one another, in the love they had to share that they had completely forgotten about the storm, that was still raging outside, the wind still blowing and the drops still falling. Lying against him, she felt ashamed of having reacted in such a childish way, yet she found herself unable to let go of him.

"I'm sorry..." She apologized in a whisper.

"No, no, it's all right." He reassured her with a smile. "Storms as heavy as this one can be frightening, and your reaction is absolutely legitimate."

With a delicate hand, he reached down to her face and made her look up at him.

"But you need not to fret, my dear. I am right here, with you. And as long as I am here, you have nothing to fear. Now, more than ever before, it is my duty to protect you. You can sleep, safely and soundly, without having to worry about the storm or any other matter of the sort."

[Y/N] stared at his face, into his eyes, and the love she read in them would have been enough to make her shed one more tear.

"Thank you, Hershel." She murmured softly, her lips shaped into a shy smile.

"Of course, dear." He replied as he gently stroke the top of her head.

Their bodies as one, they adjusted themselves on the bed just a little to lie comfortably against one another. And just as Layton had promised her, [Y/N] closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep, safe and sound, in his arms.

#hershel layton #hershel layton x reader #hershel layton x you #hershel layton fanfiction #hershel layton fanfictions #hershel layton one shot #hershel layton one shots #hershel layton imagine #hershel layton imagines #professor layton #professor layton fanfiction #professor layton fanfictions #professor layton one shot #professor layton one shots #professor layton imagine #professor layton imagines #female reader #perplexedflower

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Stick Season (12/14)

Summary: After Finn dies, Kurt leaves everything he knows behind without a trace. His hometown, his family, his boyfriend. When his dad has a medical scare, he returns to Lima, one year after breaking Blaine’s heart with no explanation.

A non-chronological series of one shots and drabbles set in this universe. Based off the Stick Season album by Noah Kahan

Tropes/Genres: Angst, Reconciliation, Grief, Alcoholism, Mentions of Major Character Death, Mental Health

Track 8. Orange Juice // Day 12: Us Someday

Words: 1331

The party is notably not in full swing by the time Kurt arrives. The only people hanging around are a few guys Kurt assumes are Sam’s coworkers, some friendly acquaintances from high school, and Sam and Blaine themselves. It’s definitely gone slower, which is why Blaine sent his invitation out so late in the first place. 

Sam is the first one to greet Kurt, pulling him in for a great big bear hug all too similar to the ones Finn used to give. His heart clenches, but it is nice to be held by someone who genuinely cares about him. He shouldn’t. After all, he’s the one who left his best friend high and dry.

“You want something to drink?” Sam offers innocently. 

A flare of uneasiness passes through Kurt. God, yes, he thinks. I’m at my ex’s house surrounded by drunk twenty-somethings. They’re playing country music through the speakers. He’s never wanted to drink more.

Like a beacon in the night, a familiar voice from behind Sam guides Kurt out of his worries. “There’s orange juice in the kitchen,” Blaine says, and Kurt’s head snaps to meet his honey-golden gaze. “It’s yours if you want it. I’m… we’re just glad you could make it, you know.”

Sam looks between the two of them, sensing the tension that was absent a moment ago. He ducks his head and bows out without another word, giving Kurt and Blaine some privacy. 

“It’s kind of loud in here,” Blaine points out after several moments go by with the two of them standing with their hands awkwardly tucked in their pockets, mirror images of uncertainty. Kurt understands what Blaine really means by that.

“Is that old porch swing still sturdy enough to hold two people?”

Blaine smiles, illuminating the darkness shrouding them. “I’ll go get my coat.”

He returns a few moments later with the promised orange juice in one hand and a scarf in the other. “You’ll get cold,” he says as they step outside. “I remember how much you loved your scarves.”

Kurt ducks his head, heat rushing to his cheeks as they sit on the rickety bench swing. “I had to. You loved leaving marks on my neck.”

His ears burn under Blaine’s gaze, eyes moving from Kurt’s neck back up to his eyes. “Yeah,” he admits. “Still do.”

He pushes the drink into Kurt’s hands and reaches behind his head to tenderly wrap the long brown scarf around his neck. 

Damn Blaine for being so thoughtful, so caring, after Kurt’s done everything but. Why can’t he be easier to not love?

It’s too good to be true—missing Blaine for the year he spent trying to find the pieces of himself he’d lost can’t be without consequence. The other shoe has got to drop sometime, and Kurt rather it be sooner than later. “Why… Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I’m not. I just love you.”

His words strike Kurt right in his heart, sending a wave of tears to his eyes. He lifts a hand to the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. “I—you can’t just say that, Blaine.”

“Why not?”

“Because I did something bad,” he says, voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. 

“That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Yes it does!” He finally snaps. “I left, Blaine. Without a word. I left my aging father, my grieving step-mother. I left you. We talked about getting married—seeing that elderly lesbian couple we saw at Breadstix and I said That’ll be us someday. I broke every promise I ever made about never saying goodbye to you. You should hate me.”

“You don’t think I tried?” Blaine replies, his rising volume obstructed by a crack in his voice. “God, yes, Kurt, there were times when I was so upset and hurt and fucking… angry about you leaving. I couldn’t get out of bed for days in the beginning, I was so depressed. It felt like losing a limb, and every time I was reminded of you I swear I’d get phantom pains. But through it all, I never stopped loving you. I don’t hate you. Not because I’m not hurt, but because I can’t. I don’t think I’m built to not love you.”

Kurt feels like he was designed in a lab just to hurt Blaine. 

“That’s… God, Blaine that’s so fucked, though, isn’t it? You should only accept the kind of love that you deserve.”

“And you should recognize that you deserve it, and that whether or not you agree, it’s mine to give.” Kurt sucks in a breath. “If… if you don’t feel the same way anymore, that’s one thing—”

“I never said that,” Kurt quickly corrects him. 

It’s silent for a long while. It would be too long if it were with anyone else.

“I’ve just been waiting for you to come home for so long,” Blaine begins again, “that I never thought to ask why you’d gone.”

Kurt searches the crisp air around him, scanning the darkened landscape with his eyes as if he might find the right words hidden in the night. 

When Finn died, everything shifted, and Kurt felt like he’d been sent to a parallel universe. He fought off bouts of vertigo, induced by every flat surface feeling as if it were angled at forty-five degrees. Oxygen became thick and soupy, and with every breath he could feel it sticking to his lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. 

One morning, his brother was alive, and the next he wasn’t. Without ostentation, without reverence, without rhyme or reason.

Lima changed afterwards, too, every nook and cranny of the town tarnished by the empty spaces where his brother once stood. Hell, the entire world changed, and nobody found it the least bit strange that everyone just went ahead and carried on as if it hadn’t stopped spinning on its axis.

“Does it even matter why?” Kurt pleads. He could sit here for hours upon hours and try to begin to explain to Blaine all his reasons, but there are some things you just can’t put into words.

“Yes,” Blaine says evenly. “I… You leaving didn’t hurt me because I thought you didn’t love me. It hurt because I know that you did—and hope you still do—but didn’t trust me enough to share the burden of your grief with me.”

“It’s my hill to climb alone,” Kurt says.

“Why?”

“Because it’s my fault.”

“Kurt—”

“I was supposed to be his designated driver that night.” If a year ago, he’d filled his cup with orange juice instead of alcohol, who knows how different things might be today. “But I was nervous about some stupid fucking final exam I had that Monday. And you know Finn; he always had to be the life of the party, the leader, the carefree Quarterback trying to make everyone happy. So he told me not to worry about it and poured me a drink. And so I drank… If I had just told him no—stayed sober like I was supposed to, he never would have driven, who knows what—”

“Kurt…” A wave of warmth washes over Kurt and he looks down to where Blaine has placed a hand on his thigh. “You didn’t kill Finn.”

“I couldn’t save him, either.”

The words hang in the air for an eternity, suspended in taught silence. 

“I should go,” Kurt finally says softly. He places the bottle of juice in the empty space where he sat and starts towards his car.

“Kurt,” Blaine cries out after him, and this time, he stops. He turns around, unwraps the scarf from his neck, and hands it back to Blaine, who looks like he’s been punched in the gut. 

“Thanks.” For what, he isn’t certain. Maybe for the invitation to the party, or the juice, or the scarf.

Maybe for the privilege of having met Blaine, who has a heart so big he truly believes he could love the guilt out of him.

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #stick season #klainevalentines2023 #wow look at me im writing! #klaine fanfiction

[dimespin]

i spent entirely too long today going through your 'dime made this' tag chronologically, and seeing your art skills and worldbuilding evolve over time, especially with the saratoans, was beautiful. also you havent draw the sentient bees in a while! is there any particular reason for that? are they in a separate world from the hydras and dryads and other magic stuff?

Thank you! It delights me to know people go back that far, it's one of my favorite things about having so much of my work archived here

I'll be honest, what happened was that I had a bit of a traumatic time in 2016, when I became briefly homeless, on top of other problems I won't enumerate just for the sake of brevity but it was like the straw that broke the camel's back. It was like all my interests died at the time. Burnout, I guess.

Honey bees were my major number one interest at the time, to an obsessive degree (ask anyone who was following me at the time, the depth of the sort of research I did was truly maniacal), so I guess as interests go, it had the furthest to fall and has been the hardest to recover.

Honestly losing such a major interest was in and of itself a bit traumatic. Maybe that's part of why I didn't even force myself to draw them like I continued doing with other characters even when I didn't enjoy drawing them - not finding it fun made me want to cry (and I did a few times, honestly).

I don't think I'll never draw them again, I still care about them and still love arthropods, but I have to work through some stuff and I'm trying not to put pressure on myself - I did that before and it made the burnout worse.

I'm trying to just embrace my artistic dry spells right now and come back to things when I want to - focusing on other hobbies in the meantime, instead of turning every period of art block into a full blown existential panic attack.

They are intended to be in the same setting as the others, they were a little less integrated in terms of depicting them with other species since I always envisioned them as having a harder time interacting with other sapients in the setting, for a number of reasons (perception of time, language barrier, mutual lack of recognition of each other as people), and my plot ideas were mostly internal hive politics and inter-hive politics with other sapients being mere background noise.

Since then I've been working a little on figuring out some of the overall magical climate and how dryads affect it and which creatures can exist in which environments as a result (basically every forest on the planet can have either dryads or magiphages but not both)

Because of this when I come back to them I'll probably depict them with dryads more, since dryads = low magic environment, and I always wanted them to be shown against more natural less wacky looking backdrops.

I always intended to depict that gynandromorph one as attending college though out of pure humor. World's tiniest student in your ASL class.

#lacunalithops dexter