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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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best friend | bob floyd x f!reader

a second part

this fic is for @roosterforme 's Valentines Day challenge - #love is in the air tgm! for this fic I chose the song 'You're My Best Friend' by Queen - count on me to make the simpiest song on earth a smidge angsty!

disclaimer; as always with me - I set out to write fluff... and I have to go through the five stages of grief first apparently. this did not turn out quite like I first thought, but I hope you'll like it still! it does have a fluffy ending!

plot; bob has always known he needs you. but perhaps he needs you more than he himself knows?

warnings; fluff with a small preamble of angst, female!reader, no use of y/n, uranium mission, mentions of earlier overconsumption of alcohol, mentions of bloody nose, mentions of throwing up, cursing, cuddling naked (is this a warning? i don't know. it's in there), l-bombs, bob tying your shoes bc heart eyes.

word count; ~3.4K

tagging people who might like; @theharddeck @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @roleycoleyreccenter @sebsxphia @laracrofted @gretagerwigsmuse @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanapologist

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‘you make me live’

Robert Floyd was a very clean-cut man. His glasses, the birth control ones, were neat and tidy on his face, rarely crooked, and rested (a little uncomfortably if he were allowed to complain) against the bridge of his nose. He much preferred his old ones, the ones that he had had as a teenager, horn rimmed and snug and comfortable against his nose. But those had broken during a stint he’d pulled just before he joined the Navy, and thus - birth control goggles it was for him. To be fair he figured it suited his new lifestyle better. Neat. Unassertive.

As a teen, Robert, at that time most known as Robby, was not quite as tidy and neat as he was now. The Robert that you, his best friend, had come to know was definitely on the more rowdy side. He drank quite heavily, and had the occasional smoke as well - something he was fairly certain would shock Hangman’s smirk right off his face if Bob ever wished to shatter the illusion of naivety he’d shouldered.

It would sometimes irk Bob when people at first construed him as meek. Sure, he’d never been the most social butterfly, and meeting new people always seemed a bit daunting no matter how much practice he had. He figured that might be why he had drank so heavily in his late teens. He’d wanted to be able to talk to people and not feel as if he wanted to sink through the floor because he stuttered once.

After every stutter he uttered, Bob cursed up a storm in his head at his own incompetence. He was far from upset though, he was fucking pissed. How was it that he knew exactly what he wanted to say, yet his tongue betrayed him so wholly? It hardly seemed fair that he actually had so much to say, yet didn’t possess the ability to voice it. If people only knew how eloquent he had sounded in his head.

He guessed that’s why he liked you so much. That first time that you met, and Robert’s tongue had done its best to trip him up at every turn, you’d just smiled warmly at him - eyes twinkling with genuine interest as he spoke. The more you gave him your undivided attention, without letting your gaze flicker away from his face, the more confident Bob had grown - as if his mouth and tongue suddenly remembered how to do their jobs properly when he felt more relaxed, and as if he wasn’t in a rush to say what he wished before the recipients focus had been drawn elsewhere.

You had waited patiently, and you’d replied with such care that he felt taken aback that you’d actually remembered most of his monologue. Since then, Bob had barely gone a day without speaking to you. It didn’t matter much what time of day it was, or how long you spoke, or how. Through the phone, via FaceTime or in person, Bob just needed to hear your sweet voice. Needed you like the air he breathed.

It had been that way ever since you met, and you had helped him when he needed it the most. Just before he had managed to make his drinking an unsalvageable problem, you had reminded him that he was valuable without the confidence that beverages lended him.

With you he never felt the need to put on any bravado or show. He had barely touched a drop of alcohol since his nineteenth birthday, and he never felt the urge to start up again. Bob had figured out that people could find him interesting and worthwhile without having the aid of alcohol to loosen his tongue and inhibit his sagacity.

‘whatever this world can give to me, it’s you - you’re all i see’

The world had undoubtedly thrown a few wrenches in Bob’s path. Growing up he’d suffered a lot at the hands of his peers, not really knowing why they felt the need to pick on him in particular. In his mind he didn’t stand out much.

Sure, he might be a bit clumsy sometimes, and he had been a little thinner and ganglier than his fellow classmates - but as he grew that had changed. Now he had defined abs and biceps, and still he didn’t feel entirely comfortable flaunting them on the beach. He preferred to keep a shirt on on the rare occasion he’d make it to the beach, something he knew you didn’t like - but something you didn’t ever push.

Bob was fairly certain most of the people that used to make fun of him had no idea that he was quite sharp, and he was not entirely sure that if he were to explain the intricacies he attended to in the aft seat of the F/A-18F he was usually assigned to, they would most likely come up blank for a response.

Robert was fairly certain anyone could wake him up in the middle of the night and ask him to man the AESA or ATFLIR system and he’d do it half asleep. The only one he’d tried to explain what he did in detail to was you, and only because you had asked and seemed genuinely intrigued - not even his father seemed particularly interested in knowing the heavy weaponry his son was responsible for when Bob tried to talk about it to him when he’d just joined the Navy.

Through any of the hardships Bob went through though, he always had you. You were always just a phone call away, even though Bob preferred to see you in front of him. Robert would never really call himself a liar, he tried his best to always say what was on his mind, no matter the outcome, but he undoubtedly was a liar.

Horribly enough, he was lying to you. And for some time he had definitely lied to himself. He’d almost told you after his situation with Phoenix, that first time he’d have to eject out of a spiraling Super Hornet at such speeds it made him dizzy to think that he’d actually survived.

He had called you from his hospital bed, voice shaking slightly as he reassured you that he was alright - having to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from sniffling as he heard your teary voice blubbering how worried you’d been when you had gotten the call that his plane had gone down during a training exercise.

He had made you his emergency contact several years ago at that point. And perhaps your soft sobs was what made him keep his confession close to his chest for just a while longer. If you didn’t know, and he didn’t make it home during the upcoming mission - at least you might not suffer too much from the loss of him. Better to lose a best friend than a lover right? That’s what Bob reasoned.

‘whenever this world is cruel to me… i got you to help me forgive’

As Phoenix put the Super Hornet down hard on the deck, Bob shook slightly as he swiftly went through his checklist. He was pretty sure his nose was bleeding, and wave after wave of nausea kept hitting him sporadically. He needed to get out of the jet. He needed to breathe fresh air, and most of all - he needed you. Hurrying down the steps, Bob ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the side of the huge ship, emptying the contents of his stomach into the vastness of the ocean below. They had lost Mav. They had lost Rooster.

What if it had been him and Nat? It just as easily could’ve been. His legs were shaking as the adrenaline from the mission they had just gone through started waning. God, why had he gotten close to any of these people? He knew he had gotten too familiar with all of them after that god damned game day on the beach - he’d told you happily about being perched on Bradley’s shoulders, and you’d laughed and congratulated him on a good game.

The memory sent another wave of nausea through him and he retched again as warm blood dripped down over his cupid's bow. Just as he was about to rush up to the nearest admiral around and get on his knees to beg them to let him call you, Phoenix showed up at his side, her dainty hand - that had just guided them to safety - landing on his shoulder. Not caring in the slightest, Bob quickly wiped his mouth and nose on his sleeve before roughly pulling her into a bone-crushing embrace, her soft words of reassurances falling on deaf ears.

“Thank you, Nat. For getting me back.” Bob had, since he had met Natasha, known she would do everything in her power to make sure he made it back, with or without Maverick’s ‘funeral talks’. He watched his pilot clench her jaw, eyes turning misty as she looked up at him and nodded.

“Likewise,” she said, patting his shoulder again before releasing him swiftly as they both noticed Hangman’s F/A-18E launch off the ship. Nat’s brows were furrowed, and Bob accompanied her as they made their way back towards the others. Fanboy took one look at Bob before offering him a pained look and a baby wipe - Bob knew that Mickey sometimes still threw up after flights, and had them on him at all times just in case.

“You okay, man?” Fanboy spoke softly to the other wizzo, patting Bob’s back as the taller man thanked him and wiped at his nose and mouth. Bob shook his head somberly, wanting to be anywhere else than where he was right now. With a clarity he hadn’t known in a while, he realized that he craved you. Craved your voice, your touch, your embrace. He needed you.

‘you’re the first one when things turn out bad’

If he had been able to teleport himself to your doorstep right now he’d press you so close to his chest, he’d breathe in your scent, he’d let his lips descend upon yours only to let them never leave their new found home, securely against yours. He’d carry you to bed, and he’d use any excuse to keep you snuggled into his side for days and days.

As it was, he had no choice but to stay where he was. Perhaps it was best that he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have known that both Mav and Rooster had made it back alive, if barely. Laying down to sleep that night as the waves rocked the ship, he had never felt so exhausted mentally and physically in his life. It felt as if his very essence had been changed through the emotions and experiences he had had during this day. He couldn’t wait to be home. Home with you.

Bob had decided the second the Super Hornet had landed that day that he would be selfish. He would tell you about the feelings he’d harbored for you for years now. It was better than dying and you never even knowing. Never knowing that you were the only one for him, that you were his sunshine, his very reason for breathing.

‘i’m happy, happy at home’

What Bob hadn’t counted on as he finally was able to make his way towards where people were usually gathered to greet their loved ones, was that you were there. He never had anyone waiting for him, because you lived some ways away, and the rest of his family were all the way over in Montana. Perhaps that’s why he needed to be nudged in the side by Phoenix, the one whom he’d spent the most time showing pictures of you to, before he made out your calls of ‘Robby!’.

His mouth fell open in shock as he saw you sprinting towards him, dropping his duffel bag just in time to be able to catch you in his arms as you barreled into his tall frame. He only had to take a small step back to steady himself, before his arm squeezed hard at your waist and his other cradled the back of your head as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.

He could hardly make out your muffled words, but it did sound an awful lot like his name being repeated over and over again in relief. Relief flooded him too as he took in a shaky breath, overcome by the familiar scent you brought with you. Tears clouded his vision as he pulled you in closer, standing to his full height for a moment, letting your converse clad feet lift off of the pavement.

As the two of you pulled away from one another, he could see tears streaming down your cheeks, and his brows furrowed as he cradled your face between his large palms.

“Sunshine…” Bob breathed out, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You offered him a teary smile in return. Thumbs soothed over your tear stained cheeks, and Bob took this moment of silence to look you over.

He noticed that in your haste to make it over to him, one of your shoelaces had fallen out of the neat bow you’d no doubt hastily thrown together before leaving to see him. How you’d gotten the information he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t been able to tell you before he left when he’d be back. He figured Phoenix might have something to do with it though. He wondered what she’d told you.

Releasing the hold he had of your face, Robert slowly fell down to kneel by your feet, slowly taking the laces between his nimble fingers, tugging softly to make sure they were tight enough before tying another knot, this time a double bow, to make sure they didn’t fall apart again.

He playfully tugged at the top of the shoe, before he gazed up at you. The expression on your face had his breath leaving his lungs suddenly, and his lips parted in surprise. That look of adoration on your face was so beautiful to him, and to have it directed at him… it was overwhelming.

“Take me home?” you whispered once he had stood to his full height again, and he wasn’t entirely sure what you meant. He had rented a small flat whilst he was going to be stationed here, so he figured that was home for him right now. Maybe home was wherever you were. Maybe you felt the same. He hoped you did. Bob only nodded before confidently grasping your smaller hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours as you steered him towards your car.

The ride back to Bob’s rented flat was mostly silent, except for his soft spoken directions. He had yet to let go of your hand, thankful for your automatic car. His thumb stroked over your knuckles, maybe more to soothe himself than you. He felt like he needed to feel your skin against his own, make sure you were real. Make sure he was real too.

Getting out of the car, Bob swiftly moved to open your door, his hands on your waist the moment you stood up.

“Robby,” you whispered, emotions unknown lacing your tone. Bob couldn’t do this here. Not on the driveway. He ushered you to the door, unlocking it and steering you inside without uttering a word.

“You’re my best friend,”

Bob spoke slowly, letting his cerulean eyes map out your face, every single familiar feature a thing of beauty. Heaving a deep sigh, he again let his palm rest against your cheek as you gazed up at him, that look of adoration still present.

“I love you, sunny,” Bob confessed, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence, overcome by the fact that he might not have made it home to tell you that. You licked your lips as more tears fell from your eyes.

“Phoenix told me you almost didn’t make it home to me,” you replied shakily. He averted his gaze, but you stepped closer, your chest now resting against his own. It forced him to look down at you again, god, you were so close.

“How could you have left me without telling me that beforehand? I’ve–” you trailed off, a sob shaking you softly. Bob furrowed his brows, letting his arms wound around you to hold you steady against him.

“I’ve loved you my whole life… ever since I first heard you speak, I’ve loved you,” you cried “as more than a friend. I’ve wanted to be yours for so long, Robby,” Bob groaned, pulling you into a tight embrace, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as his lips found the top of your head.

“Sunny… you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And I’ve always been yours. I’m sorry–” his voice broke again “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. I never in a million years figured I’d be good enough for you,” his voice was raw with emotion, a raspy and deep quality to it that had you momentarily dizzy.

You thought you had heard every iteration of Robert’s voice that there was. Sleepy Robby, angry Robby, sweet Robby, sad Robby… nothing compared to this. Nothing.

“You stupid, stupid man,” you chastised him, a teary laugh falling from your lips as you broke free from his embrace. Bob had the decency to look bashful as he chuckled, thumb stroking over your cheek again. Your own hand raised, fingertips ghosting over his cheeks, the harsh feel of his stubble unusual for you. Your exploration continued slowly, before your thumb graced Bob’s lower lip, hearing his breath stutter in his throat.

“Kiss me, Robby,” you spoke softly, glancing up at those cerulean eyes you loved so much. The groan that left Bob was otherworldly to you as he cupped your face in between his palms, his warm lips descending upon yours as your eyes fluttered closed.

Bob could swear he’d never felt anything like it as his lips were met with your warm and plump ones, moving so slowly and deliciously against his own, small sighs making him a little crazy. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You felt like home. Hesitantly, Bob let his tongue wet your bottom lip, and the way you let him deepen the kiss had another groan leaving his lips as your tongue met his slowly.

“I never want to leave you again,” Bob leaned his forehead against yours as his eyelids squeezed shut.

“Then don’t,” you let a soft giggle escape from you. Bob only smiled, before he bent down, letting his hands rest on the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you into his arms.

“I need snuggles and I need them now,” he simply said as he walked you into his bedroom, carefully helping remove your shoes before he planted you in the middle of the comfortable bed. Removing his own shoes, Bob stripped out of his khaki uniform, leaving him in only his boxers - something you had certainly seen before, but something beautiful nonetheless.

He moved to climb onto the bed with you, but you held up your palm, stopping him momentarily as you wiggled out of your jeans and your top - needing to feel Bob’s skin against yours.

Bob offered you the softest of smiles before he laid down beside you, keeping a small distance between your bodies, not wanting to make the first move at touching you. Rolling your eyes, you muttered “silly man” before promptly draping your thigh over his, letting your stomach and chest snuggle close into his warm skin, your head resting against his neck.

“Thank God,” Bob sighed, kissing your forehead as his strong arms wrapped around your midsection, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. The same fingers that only hours ago had frantically manned the countermeasures and systems needed to get out safely. Bob squeezed his eyes shut before he took a shuddering deep breath.

“Hey, you’re here with me, Robby,” you spoke softly, resting your chin against his chest. “You’re here and you’re mine and I love you so much,” you continued, your fingers raking through his neat hair. He managed a smile, and his body relaxed against yours as he mirrored your movements.

“I’m here… and I’m yours, and I love you,” he repeated slowly, leaning against his forearm as he reached to kiss you again, one hand resting comfortably at the back of your head as his lips moved with yours. He felt your lips turn upwards into a soft smile against his own, and when you broke away from him, he let out a relieved sigh as he fell back against the pillows, eyes closed.

He smiled as he felt you climb on top of him, curling up on his chest, your head resting comfortably on his sternum, your thighs encompassing his hips. His palm softly stroked up and down your spine, and he swore he could almost hear you purring like a cat at his touch.

Soft kisses were shared between whispered words of comfort and love, and Bob had never thought he could be this lucky, to have his best friend dozing off against his chest, her kisses and her love soothing his rattled soul.

‘oh, you’re my best friend’

#bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fanfiction #my writing #love is in the air tgm

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keen-li · 8 days

Text

What you need | 01

Synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need?

Do you even know what you need.

Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.

Jungkook x reader.

Prev | next

The last thing you’d want to being doing while going through a break-up, is walking into this building and putting more energy, which you don’t have, into pretending like you’re okay.

When you’re in fact not.

You have to deal with a raging hangover, because you thought it would be a great idea to drown your misery with some alcohol. All night long. loneliness has its gross skinny little fingers around you.

This break-up is fucking you up sideways. If not in all ways.

‘’what happened to you?’’ your head throbs harder at the sound of that heavy voice.

‘’what do you want?’’ you murmur out and your fingers get to work with rubbing your temples.

‘’i wanna know what happened to you?’’ you know his question is far from caring or interested in your well being.

Your tiny office feels more claustrophobic with the way he just seems to hover over.

‘’look hoseok, I’m a little out of it today’’ you don’t even stare at him ‘’so i can’t provide you with any witty comeback, sorry’’

For a split, single particle of light second; he feels bad for you. But then he remembers:

‘’whether you’re in or out of it, you’ve got work.’’ He slaps a file on your table ‘’get working’’

You know hoseok is one of your headaches and he always proves how he’s so great at it.

You stare at your desk as your head pounds with another problem.

You’ve stayed so long at this desk you can draw every inch of it from memory. And you’d be a master at adding the little cracks, dents and scratch details. Plus every memory of hoseok’s nagging witty remarks linger in this office area everymoment.

You really want a new office. And you day when you do get one, you’ll make sure hoseok never visits it and contaminates it with his presence.

Urgh

You groan as you pick up the file he’s just given you. This headache’s probably gonna kill you before you get a chance to.

‘’well, well well’’ jungkook rolls his eyes ‘’look who decided to come to work today’’

‘’good morning Isabel, you didn’t have to do all this but i appreciate the warm welcome’’ jungkook spits out sarcastically in a sing-song voice.

Isabel scoffs.

‘’is your mother feeling better now?’’

‘’what are you talking- oh’’ jungkook catches himself, but it’s too late.

‘’oh my gosh i knew it’’ she declares ‘’you’re such a liar’’ she lets out a soft chuckle.

‘’i knew you weren’t asking for a day off cause your mother was sick’’

‘’how could you have known that’’ jungkook says taking off his shirt and Isabel can’t help but ogle.

‘’i just know’’ she folds her arms over her chest, her long straight hair getting caught in her arms.

‘’why didn’t you tell me you needed a day off, you don’t have to lie’’ she stops herself from licking her lip in fear of ruining her red lips.

‘’you know i can do that for you’’

Jungkook grins as he pulls up his work suit pants. It would’ve been uncomfortable if jungkook wasn’t used to Isabel being around while he got dressed. He secretly believes she does it on purpose to be in the dressing room when he’s getting dressed.

‘’well i did cause a friend needed me, i doubt those grounds stand for a day off’’ he finally just says it knowing she won’t do anything about it.

She hums ‘’which friend?’’

‘’does it matter?’’ he throws a white tee over his head.

It doesn’t, but she just wanted to know if her thoughts are right.

‘’YN’’

She only hums, her perfectly tweezed eyebrows rising. He can’t decipher what the meaning of it but it doesn’t matter. She’s heard your name from him but never seen you, he talks so fondly of you she’s just so curious to meet you.

‘’okay then get to work making up for the day you missed. A client’s coming in with his car’’

Jungkook already knows cause said client called him a million times to find out where he was.

‘’so about asking for a day off...’’ jungkook puts on his best charming smile.

‘’it’s not gonna happen jeon’’ she turns to walk away. But not without biting her inner cheek, if she was staring at jungkook she would fold.

‘’what happened to the ‘you know i can do that for you’ ‘’ she blushes.

‘’it’s never gonna happen. Not today at least’’ she whispers the last part.

Jungkook laughs and licks his lips as he watches her walk away. Sometimes it was fun coming to work.

‘’and that’s why this model’s perfect for you and your family’’ you walk around the car to the open door. ‘’you can place up to three car seats in the back’’ you stretch you arm to point and direct your client’s eyes to where you want them to be.

You stare at her blank face and you know she’s not convinced. But that’s your job; to convince and sale.

‘’if you’re worried about clean up, the interior material is one; even liquids. vacuum away from clean and the seats are wipeable’’

‘’actually the carpet, does not stain’’ you add.

‘’oh that’s really nice, cause my kids are messy when it comes to food.’’ She laughs and you laugh as well.

Most of the time you laugh only because you have to. You hear the same things every day and speak to the same type of people everyday. You know every type of person that walks through those glass doors.

‘’i think I’ve heard enough, I’m convinced’’

‘’i’ll take the car’’ those words are like music to your ears and medicine for your headache.

‘’Great, then let me just get the papers ready’’

This was one of the reasons you liked and preferred to work with women, they’re are easy to convince when it comes to buying a car and are great listeners to what you say. Unlike men who just want to argue and question your knowledge on cars. It always makes you laugh when you see them try and show you that they know more than you (not that they do, you’ll always one-up them)

And in all fairness women loved to work with you cause they know they can trust a woman. And men only want to work with you to put you down and ogle at you.

Even hoseok knew this and that’s why he always gives you female clients. You’re shocked he doesn’t give you only males just to piss you off. If you never knew him well you’d think he had a heart.

You’re walking back to your desk when you see hoseok approach you from the corner of you eye.

‘’You don’t need to worry i sold the car’’ you say not stopping in your tracks.

‘’im not worried i knew you would’’

You pause.

‘’is that a compliment Mr Jung’’

He doesn’t respond but that doesn’t stop you from swimming in his rarely spoken compliments.

‘’what do you want? it’s lunch time’’ you go back to your bickering tone.

He stares at his watch.

‘’are you having your lunch from outside of the office’’

‘’yeah, why?’’ you pick up your purse. He knows you always have lunch from outside of the office, so why is he asking.

‘’i have a very important client to give you’’

You really wanna go out and have lunch, cause even though it doesn’t seem like it you still have a headache. But if hoseok said he had an important client for you, then he did.

You honestly need important clients right now.

‘’can it wait for after lunch’’

Hoseok let’s out a bitter chuckle.

‘’this client doesn’t live in Seoul. So he doesn’t have the time to wait’’

He? Ugh.

Who is he for hoseok to be kissing up to him so bad.

‘’if you really want that promotion as bad as you say you do, you’re gonna take him nooow.” He drags out the last word.

He says it so eagerly that now you have to rethink your lunch routine.

Lunchtime is the main time you get in the week to actually see jungkook, since you’re both so busy. It’s like a little routine you both have; helps you spend more time together.

But now you have to reconsider it. jungkook would understand though, since you’ve got a promotion on the line.

‘’yn? Do you want this or not. If not i can-‘’ hoseok presses but a deep hallow voice steps in.

‘’hoseok let her go for lunch, i can wait’’

You both turn and your eyes are met with the most glorious figure of a man you’ve ever seen.

Tall, beefy and muscular. When you stare at hoseok, in question, you can swear he’s ogling too.

Wouldn’t blame him so are you. This man is fine.

‘’Namjoon, you don’t have t-‘’

‘’please, i can move my flight. Let her have lunch’’ your eyes meet as he ends his sentence. You skedaddle your gaze to another part of the room, avoiding his eyes. and your teeth immediately meet your inner upper lip.

You’re not the best at eye contact, it makes you nervous cause it feels like the person can see all the little things you’re keeping secret.

Namjoon smirks as he walks out, ‘’I’ll be waiting when you get back’’

Hoseok doesn’t say or look at you before he’s out too.

‘’fuck inishiwekfuoaovw’’

You furrow your brows at a jungkook stuffing his face.

‘’what the fuck are you saying’’ you chuckle out.

He swallows.

‘’ i said, i’ve been thinking this the whole day’’ you wouldn’t have guessed that’s what he was saying.

‘’ i assume you’re talking about your lunch’’ you take a bite of your own, your eyes on jungkook as he lifts his gaze.

If you finish this meal it would be the first full meal you’ve eaten since yunho.

‘’i mean i’ve been thinking about lunch with you too’’ he stares at you from under his eyelashes with wide eyes.

You can't help but smile.

You give him a once-over and can tell by his tan skin he’s been in the sun.

‘’did you carry your sunscreen?’’

He gasps ‘’shit, i forgot. Is my tan obvious” you give him a yes-no nod.

‘’but it looks good’’ you mumble out.

‘’you like it?’’ he lowers his eyes at you and gives you a cheeky smile.

‘’i mean i don’t hate it.’’ Your eyes run across his skin, jungkook can feel your eyes on his skin.

You release a cough, to reset the air. You like it, you won’t say to not give him a bigger head.

‘’i think i should get going’’ jungkook furrows his brows at you then over at your plate.

‘’you haven’t finished your food though ’’ he warns.

‘’i have someone waiting for me at the office, so-‘’ you dare to explain.

‘’-so they can wait until you finish your food. Plus you still have time to eat’’ he points to the clock in the restaurant. You’ve only been here for fifteen minutes.

‘’kook it’s an important client’’ you whine.

‘’and i understand that, but i know you haven’t been eating’’ jungkook sits back in his chair. You have no argument to give, you both know that he’s right. So, you stay silent.

‘’have you?’’ he questions even though he knows he’s right.

‘’jungkook that’s not the point’’ you roll your eyes.

‘’sit down and eat’’ he demands, ’’please’’ he pleads.

You can’t say no, especially with his pleading doe eyes. So you sit and try to finish your food.

You know that he’s doing this cause he cares about you and wants to make sure you’re doing well. But it makes it just much harder to wallow in your misery when he’s baby-ing you

‘’what’s so important about this client anyways’’ he goes back to stuffing his face, the taste of the food encapsulating his taste buds once more.

You hear jungkook speak over your internal turmoil about having to down this food.

‘’hoseok told me its a chance for me to up my chances on a promotion’’ you say informingly. When you actually put your mind to eating the scent of the food causes your stomach to growl. It's savoury taste makes you internally moan as you take it in. Food actually tastes good when you put your mind to it.

‘’Bunny that’s great” he cheers. “Why don’t you sound exciting though’’

You glare at him, ‘’cause you’re forcing me to eat.’’ You’re glad he made you made cause it taste like heaven.

‘’don’t be a baby.’’ He runs his teeth over he’s lower lip.

‘’im not being a baby’’ you mumble out as you pout and prove his point.

Jungkook doesn’t respond and instead watches you eat. His eyes soften at the sight of your cheeks stuffed with food. He knows there’s only so much he can do to help you get over yunho. But whatever he can do he will do, just to see that smile you have on your right now; many more times. He watches you look out the window, and the sun hits you beautifully. And he can’t help but gawk.

‘’what?’’ you smile at doe eyed jungkook, who can’t seem to move his gaze from you.

He shakes his head. ‘’nothing’’ he turns back to his food, the smile not leaving his face.

You roll your eyes. Jungkook’s smile would’ve widened if he saw that. He loves teasing you.

You both appreciate how your friendship has developed from you two avoiding each other and then finally finding comfort in each other’s presence. Jimin really had a tough time getting you two to talk, you’re behaving like two high schoolers he said in his own words. Yes you were but it was more like two high schoolers who’ve never even looked at each put on a class project. But now you’re eating lunch together because you can’t stop talking. You wouldn’t stop being friends with him for anyone.

‘’i forgot to tell you i found a date for you?’’

Jungkook groans at that. He’d hoped you’d forgotten, but you seem more determined than ever.

He gives you a displeased looked.

‘’don’t give me that’’

“if you want me to go on a date, then you’ll have to come watch me train” he declares proudly.

“in what? Boxing?” your brows draw together. Is he actually trying to get you to watching him box.

“Yeah” he hums out enthusiastically.

“Nope” you deadpan.

“Then I’m not going ”

You narrow your eyes at him and he gives you a mischievous smile.

“I’ll see.”

♡

#fanfic #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungguk #jungkook x y/n #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeon jeongkook

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lanitalay · 5 months

Text

Cowboy like me

a/n: besties be warned this is my first time writing smut

azriel x reader one shot inspired by the Taylor Swift song

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut!

Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon.

Azriel looked at her like he was looking in a mirror. He remembered how she laid on his bed, curled up on her side, snuggling with the thick covers. It had been lifetimes, centuries since they had seen each other. Last he heard she was in the Continent, living as a courtesan. She must have a fortune. With her devastating beauty, quick wits and disarming charm it was never difficult to discover interesting, compromising and incriminating information. That’s why she was one of his most trusted spies.

He never thought he’d run into her in Adriata. She stood on the main balcony of the Summer Court palace, looking at the ocean. He admired how she could adapt to any environment. In Night Court black she was intimidating. In Summer blue she was dazzling. The wind made the flowy fabric of her dress hug her curves. Her hair was shorter now. Back when they knew each other it came down to her waist. Now, it did not touch her shoulders. He could recognize her anywhere, with any hair, any dress. He could recognize her in the dark, blindfolded.

He knew every inch of her skin. Every scar. Every freckle.

His wings tighten as he makes his way over to her. She must be expecting him. There is no way she did not know he would be visiting on official business. “Summer suits you” his words reach her before he does. He takes the next few steps slowly as he comes to stand next to her. “Must be the sun and salt air” he knows she won’t look at him yet. “Night also suits you” his hands are placed behind his back. “Maybe, in another life” she brings her hands to the railing of the balcony. Azriel can’t help but notice there is no ring or any marker that indicates she is in a relationship. It did not surprise him, they were similar in that way. Whatever intimate relationship they once shared had been strictly nocturnal and he was perfectly fine with that. It was only when she had given him her letter of resignation that he yearned for more time with her. The nights suddenly not enough.

“Are you residing here permanently?” Her lips quirked up at that “permanent is not a word I would use to describe anything about me”. He could use that word to describe how she had a perpetual place in the back of his mind and, if he was being honest, his heart.

“How long are you here for?” The question brings him out of his head “until tomorrow”. She hums. “You never told me why” he had been wondering ever since she had gone. “It was time for something new” now she turns her head to meet his gaze. “Was it something I did?” She looks away again “no”. “Then what was it?” She breathes, her chest rising from the action. “You know what it was”. He goes to ask again but before he can formulate the question she says “I have a meeting, see you around”. She walks away and into the palace, disappearing through a hallway.

A knock wakes him up. He goes to open the door, already knowing who’s on the other side. “Sorry to wake you” she says and steps into the room. “It’s alright” she’s in a nightgown “why are you here?” He had never seen her look nervous “you know me better than anyone Az” she said gently and he had a feeling that was the voice she used to get men of power to fall to their knees “and…” she closes the space between them “I’ve missed you”.

He forgoes the mask of indifference and grabs her face, meeting her lips in a searing kiss. Gods, he missed her. His whole body ached at the thought of her. A surprised sound escaped her as he bit her lower lip and slipped his tongue in her mouth. Her hands instinctively went to his hair, like they had done for years. She pulled him away from her and he could have moaned at how her pupil had blown out and her lips had gone puffy “what?” His voice was desperate and she smiled “I just have a feeling that this is gonna be one of those things” and kissed him again. He wasted no time in lifting her hips up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he walked back to the bed.

She fell back on the mattress and he swore he had never seen anything more beautiful. He crawled on top of her kissing and biting his way to her lips. He wanted to take his time with her, savor every inch of her skin, every moan and every movement. She had other plans and made it so she was now on top of him. His hardened cock smothered beneath her dripping heat. She removed her robe and nightgown in one motion. Her nipples peaked with arousal. Azriel growled and sat up to bring her right breast to his mouth, sucking and biting with his other hand he pinched and pulled at her left breast. Her head fell back, loving the sensations flooding her but needing more. She pulled him away and took her panties off and threw them at his face. Azriel caught it and breathed in the concentrated scent of her arousal. She got up from his lap and made to undress him. “Az I need you now” he flipped her so she was on her back and at his mercy.

He pulled out his cock and gave it a few rough strokes. She was aching for him, her cunt fluttering around nothing. He took her in, legs bent and spread wide just for him. He ran a hand up her leg until it reached the apex of her thighs and without warning pushed in two thick fingers. He brought them to his mouth and tasted just how needy she was. “You wanna taste?” She nodded desperately and she moaned as he pumped his fingers a few times before bringing them to her mouth. She sucked and slurped up the liquid. When he took his fingers out she begged “Az, please” he loved seeing her plead for him. “You want my cock?” She nods “say it”. “I want your cock” he thinks he can see tears welling up in her eyes.

Her pussy is throbbing, he brings his cock to her cunt and slides the tip from her sopping hole to her soaking clit, teasing. Her tears spill “Az, please fuck me”. With one slow, frustratingly slow stroke he sheathes himself inside her. She grabs his face and kisses him, she can taste herself on his tongue. His thrusts turn into pounding. The pace brutal. She moans when he bites her neck and thumbs at her clit. With trembling hands she runs her finger along the lines of his wings, like she knew would drive him crazy. He hisses and bites down harder. Her pussy is throbbing, her climax near. “Cum for me, baby. Be good for me” she has no control as a wave of pleasure crashes into her. She moans his name until it's just incoherent mumbles “where do you want me to finish?” She’s still spinning as she wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him deeper “fill me up” he thrusts into her until he reaches his high, his cum coating her walls. Her legs are still wrapped around him as he bends down to meet her lips.

“Stay with me” he says, arm draped around her waist keeping her back flush against his chest. She thinks for a moment. “I can stay with you if you promise me forever”. They don’t speak the rest of the night. They drift to sleep in each other's warmth and he knows that by morning she’ll be gone.

#acomaf #acotar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #acowar #jurian acotar #lucien vanserra #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #acosf #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel smut #smut #acotar smut #acotar x reader #acotar fic

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nso-csi · 5 months

Text

231117 Weverse live (eng sub)

Taemin says that it snowed for the first time this year in korea today and asked if his manager saw it. he says that the scarf was gifted by the brand itself and he was thanking the brand for this scarf. cr.

I'm going to the airport because I have a schedule in Thailand. Even tho I left early, there's a lot of traffic because people are getting off work. Today's also friday! I envy the people getting off work, treat yourselves well~ I woke up today and worked out and had a meeting regarding the concert and left for the airport. I've been pretty busy lately. cr.

I might sound full of myself, but rather than fixed variety shows, I want to do youtube content, like uploading song/dance covers. cr.

Taemin: I don't even know if they'll invite me over to variety shows however rather thanwanting to become a regular on variety shows, I want something that actually suits me? something like youtube content or sth relating to dance? cr.

Fans: You don't have any vacation? aren't you tired? Taemin: I don't think I have any vacation for this year, I've really been working hard (without rest) this year~ cr.

Taemin reading a comment: no holiday this year? I won't have holidays this year til the end of year. cr.

Taemin: can you all write how old you are? I am curious.. I am really curious.. because it seems like I'm the only one speaking in honorific?? no one apart from me speak formally?? Every one is younger but no one calls me oppa, everyone was like 'taemin-ah' but of course i know t's because the fans want to feel closer to me that's why they don't speak with honorifics cr.

Taemin: what's funny is everyone talks to me casually even those younger than me 6"6 no one even says oppa to me 6^6 I was joking you can talk to me casually~ some people get mischievous because I said so I was joking! cr.

Alcohol? it's been so long since i drank. When was the last time? I'm not drinking recently, maybe I lost interest. cr.

Taemin said it's been a while since he drink alcohol and said the last time he drank was during the live in Japan cr.

I'm so thankful that so many people did the guilty challenge with me. i was worried that they might feel embarrassed/scold me but everyone did show their abs, so i was very relieved. cr.

Fortunately there are a lot of people that recognize me as an artist. i'm determined to walk my own path. cr.

Everyone's asking me to take care of them, tbh i can't take care of myself. cr.

People who exercise regularly always show up. Like Minho is everywhere. He probably does ab workouts in his sleep and showers while flexing his abs and when he picks up stuff he picks them up in a squat position. I think it's really cool that people can exercise routinely like that. I would rather live without abs and be able to eat whatever i want. During the concert i should show you my abs~ 6v6 shooting content with minho hyung would be fun. there's two types of people who exercise: those who enjoy working out, and those who whine and complain. i'm the second type 6v6. cr.

Taemin: Minho hyung must work out even sleeping n even taking a shower 😆 he has such healthy hobbies so cool~ but shall we just have drinks? let's give up let's eat what we want this life~! there are 2 types of people one working out happily the other doing it whining i'm the latter cr.

I know how hard the SM staff works, so I don't want to talk bad about SM. But there are times when I don't understand the decisions made by (upper management). even if I were to have an ordinary job, I'd be bound to have some sort of complaints. cr.

Everyone is working hard to make something great. "Euisoo hyung make lots of money" I think our company's salary isn't that high. But everyone works with so much passion. It's a company where you make little money but you work a lot. and i know how hard our fans support us. Everyone always talks about how shinee/taemin fans are so amazing and beautiful! Some people enter the company and run away because the reality didn't match their expectations. So the people who stay behind work hard. The company is expanding but there's no money, so i don't understand how it's getting bigger LOL What I want to say is everyone is working hard, so please know that. There are people who work hard behind the scenes. That's right, raise the salary of our staffs! We have the deepest history among entertainment agencies in korea, so raise our salaries to match our reputation! 6v6 cr.

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nnight-dances · 2 years

Text

HOW TO FALL BACK IN LOVE WITH YEONJUN

pairings: yeonjun x f!reader

tropes: one-sided enemies to lovers >:-)

plotline: yeonjun loves you. you've loved him before but now you're convinced he deserves nothing but your ironic smiles. well, you're wrong. these three acts of your life uncover the truth behind your resentment and the depth of yeonjun's love. plus, an epilogue where we collectively hate on short stories because only poetry can truly capture a writer's horniness!

what to expect: a lot of rambling in parentheses but i promise it's essential to the storyline, (i have many thoughts about how i've used this feature in this story which i can share if anyone's interested.) mbti talk, some tiktok slang.

song recommendations: sweet by cigarettes after sex, moonlight by dhruv, lay all your love on me by abba

—

THE FIRST ACT: 2 THINGS YOU (MIGHT) HATE ABOUT YEONJUN

it’s not a secret that yeonjun does everything with his everything. he’s only invested in his select few interests but just the little things take up all the space in his heart. you could argue for or against his way of living, he’s more than aware it’s not the healthiest to be like this but he’s not ready to change, not while he’s still young. for now, he’s a summation of fixations and obsessions in his world. and it just so happens that one of his obsessions is you.

“what’s this? y/n’s got a new piercing?” he leans back on his heels dramatically, mouth forming an o at the sight of the newly-added butterfly stud on the helix of your ear. “and it’s only tuesday. week not going very well for you.”

you narrow your eyes at him in your typical resting-bitch-face fashion, instantly taking on an aloof demeanor, “i’m extremely uncomfortable with the fact that you’re keeping up with the number of piercings i have. can’t say i’m flattered.”

“ha! at this point, i don’t even have to try to keep count. you get a new one every other day.”

“oh, leave her alone, jun,” calls out taehyun from behind you, “she’s doing it for inspiration for her portfolio that’s due in three days.”

two ring-adorned middle fingers stick up in front of taehyun’s face, your hoarse voice following suit, “you’re a terrible friend, kang taehyun.”

“two days? and you’re not done? sorry, love, but as an ESTP, i physically cannot forgive you. i have to shame you in public.”

yeonjun laughs a little too hard for your liking at that, about to chime in with his own patronizing comment but you cut in, “oh, well, you know who else is an ESTP? donald j. trump!”

yeonjun laughs again at that, enjoying the banter between you and taehyun a lot. he joins in, “i’m an ENFP. that’s the same as katniss everdeen’s, so i’d say that explains why i’m so hot.”

you frown, “you mean you would choose peeta over gale? yeah, i can see why you have such bad taste in everything.”

taehyun howls in laughter at that and yeonjun shakes his head, “oh, ho ho ho,” he shuffles closer to you, “you don’t understand, y/n, how badly you’ve just insulted yourself.”

before you can fully comprehend the meaning of his statement, he’s gone, grabbing (stealing) a can of beer from hueningkai who’s busy forcing beomgyu to arm-wrestle him.

“whatever that means,” you huff out, massaging your temples. taehyun sighs, concealing a knowing smile, “yeah. i’ve no idea what he means.”

you rest your head against the sofa he’s sat on, stretching out your legs, “i actually hate you for betraying me like that.”

“oh god, maybe i’ll stop the day you stop talking like we’re still in the second grade and i’ve lent my eraser to the wrong person.”

“you might as well have!” you complain, not in the least petty because, “choi yeonjun did not need to know i’m behind on my portfolio. god knows what he’s gonna do with that information.”

taehyun snorts, “ah, yes, he’s probably going to plan a full-fledged assassination involving your family and kids simply based on the knowledge that you’re a helpless procrastinator.”

“you know what?” you sit up with a groan, “i think you’re the one i should be worried about sharing my secrets with. you’re the real threat here.”

your ‘friend’ simply chuckles under his breath as he watches you depart his side and hopes yeonjun’s somewhere in the crowd of the party to keep your nerves… unnerved.

yeonjun is present in the crowd, sat on the less than reassuring metal stairs of beomgyu and hueningkai’s shared apartment. his hand fidget with his phone, struggling to stop himself from going on tinder only to be disappointed because he’s just looking for another y/n and that near impossible, unless you break your oath to rely on “real life encounters and experiences” (your very own words) to find love.

he finds you then, in a group of people hanging around the balcony, cigarettes in hand. you stand a little far apart from the others, looking undoubtedly spaced-out as you swing on your heels back and forth. you’re pretty, even though yeonjun can only see one-fourth of your face, what with all the darkness and your hair in the way.

but you hate him. even if your disgusted grimaces and cold glares are all but a joke, you did seem harbor some kind of resentment toward yeonjun. he’d no idea what it was and trust him when he says he’s been putting his neck on the line just to figure out why.

so far the reasons that have him most convinced include,

one: you hate all men in general and he just happens to be a particularly irksome male presence in your life.

this is a pretty likely explanation, he thinks as he approaches you, because even as an outsider to the group you’re in, he can see that you reserve your expletives for certain men.

“…and that’s why i think everything is soup,” yuta finishes saying when yeonjun joins you. for a second there’s silence and even mark who usually can’t control his laughter maintains a poker face. then, you groan, “yuta, if i had a pencil right now, i genuinely would have stabbed you with it.”

now, this makes everyone crack up while you regard them in disbelief with a look that screams you guys know i’m serious right? because you’re dead serious.

so yeah, it’s a good bet to say that men aren’t your favorite kind of people. but still, yeonjun couldn’t shake off the feeling that your dislike for him is more personal. wishful thinking, perhaps? but then, you turn and notice yeonjun standing beside you.

your half-smile tightens into a frown, “when did you get here?”

there it was. that specific tone you use with, that was missing when you’d threatened lucas just moments ago. the grit in your teeth, the intensity of your eye-contact, even the way you say you changes. which brings him to the next and last potential reason that yeonjun has spent days, if not years, pondering.

two: yeonjun had done you wrong without knowing and ever since then, you’ve grown to absolutely despise him.

now, yeonjun knew for a fact that you’re expert at holding grudges, clear from how quick you’ve always been to bring up embarrassing things people around you, specifically taehyun, had done. and to be honest, you’re just good at remembering unusual amount of detail which you use to your advantage.

which is why yeonjun knows you’ll know he’s lying when he says, “i’ve been here for a good ten minutes, y/n. i’m so hurt you haven’t noticed.”

“stop that,” you shoot back instantly, raising a singular but intimidating index finger, “i know what you’re doing.”

yeonjun raises his eyebrow in amusement, “stop what? what am i doing?” he slightly leans in to dramatically tuck in a few stray strands of hair, “please, enlighten me.”

the low, husky voice he uses is not lost on you. despite your flaming cheeks, you scoff, “that! you’re flirting with me!” you reach up and promptly untuck the hair from behind your hair, “these are my slut strands. you’re not allowed to touch them without permission.”

“your—” yeonjun pauses, “slut... strands? right.” he swallows a chuckle, smirking instead, all while internally he’s having a breakdown over how insane you are. like in a good way. in the way that everything you say is fucking crazy but it’s so native to your logic that it drives him crazy and holy cheese, yeonjun is scaring himself right now.

he looks away momentarily to see the rest of the group’s conversation floating elsewhere. he turns back to you, “so you noticed?”

you cock up a brow, “that you’re flirting with me? no shit, yeonjun, you know i may not look street-smart but i have to live with taehyun and his witty ass so trust me, i’m not oblivious.”

“oh, i beg to differ,” he settles closer to you, leaning against the same pillar as you, shoulder flush against yours, “i didn’t think for a second that you were oblivious.”

“that’s why you ran away after telling me i was insulting myself by insulting your taste?”

yeonjun flushes, taken aback by your straightforwardness, coughing to cover up his lack of excuses at that. you breathe out a laugh at his flustered state, “hmm, so goes down the all-mighty choi yeonjun.”

“at least i wasn’t defeated by my inability to complete my creative writing portfolio due in three…” yeonjun looks down at his watch, “actually, now, two days.”

this time, you’re left without a comeback, “that’s a low blow, man.”

he laughs, “come on, isn’t this like your first time being this late?”

“once again, i remain creeped out at you knowing things like that but,” you relax noticeably next to him, “i guess i ran out of ideas this time. not sure what’s wrong.”

“and this had never happened before?”

“i thought you already knew this.” yeonjun rolls his eyes, a complete contradiction to the grin on his face. ”hm, maybe you’ve run out because you’re trying to do it the same way you’ve always done it?”

“i mean, of course i’m doing it the same way,” you mutter, “that’s like the point of having a regular writing practice. it needs to become natural.”

“yeah, but you need spice things up a little sometimes!”

“gross,” you scrunch up your nose, “you sound like you’re prescribing me a threesome right now.”

he shrugs playfully, “if that’s what rocks your boat.” you push him away at that and he laughs out, “okay, okay, but i’m serious. try something new.” you quieten down at that, probably thinking.

“what about…” you look up at him expectantly and he almost fumbles over his words, “um, what about walking around the city?”

—

THE SECOND ACT: LOVE BEGINS BEHIND CLOSED PARENTHESES

full disclosure here: yeonjun’s second reason is right. the first one isn’t completely wrong, but it’s more so the second one that finds you in the gropes of overthinking that night.

you know how at a certain point in the past, you really (really, really, really) like someone but then things don’t work because that person isn’t into you (but more because you’re too caught up in your own self-perception to do anything) so slowly that lots (and lots and lots) of like turns into a lump of resentment? yeah, that pretty much describes your relationship with yeonjun. more or less, you hate him for not liking you (”in the past!! i don’t care about him anymore!” you hastily add from behind kang taehyun who had been narrating this whole paragraph. taehyun poorly covers up an incredulous snort.)

“so now you’re going on a date with him?” taehyun asks a little too loudly, “how does that happen?”

“it doesn’t happen because nothing is happening because i’m not going on a date with him!” you half-scream, hitting the brunette on his head to try and shove some sense into it, “and please, stop being so loud or i’m going to cry.”

“y/n, we live alone. and i think you’re going to cry nevertheless, but okay. if it’s not a date, what is it?”

“it’s just a walk,” you say and when taehyun looks at you blankly, “a walk around the city, in his exact words.” more blankness. more silence. “i was going to go alone but yeonjun said he knows an obscure part of town that would help me become, you know, curious.”

“uh-huh, right, of course…” taehyun purses his lips, intrigued to see how far you’d go with your denial.

“stop looking at me like you’re so much better than me! and no—” you cut him off knowingly, “don’t say that you are better than me. you’re not. what you are is an asshole and i hate you.”

you fall into your sheets with a frustrated wail and taehyun laughs at your state for a few seconds before returning to his role as your therapist slash best friend.

“okay, y/n, i know you don’t like to think about, let alone admit it, but you’re into yeonjun. and since i can’t let what happened a year ago happen again, i’m telling you that i’m almost completely sure that he’s into you, too. so please, don’t be hostile tomorrow on your date— sorry, your ‘walk’ with him. use the opportunity or i’m sleeping over at kai’s.”

—

“i don’t know why i let you talk me into this,” you scoff as you fall into step next to yeonjun. “we’re literally at a stupid park.”

he gasps like the theatre kid he should be, “first of all, this is a huge park and you’ve no idea how much people-watching you can from here. and secondly, i bought you coffee so all you’re being right now is ungrateful.”

you stay silent, eyes scanning a group of middle-aged ladies that passes you. you hear a whiff of their conversation, something about one of them wanting to take a break by the water fountain.

“see? you’re already in the zone and i didn’t even have to shut up.”

you look back at him, awed look morphing into a scowl, “no, i think it’s just really easy for me to forget you’re here.” yeah, it’s safe to say you haven’t taken a word taehyun said to the heart.

but no matter what you say, half an hour later finds you perched on a bench, crouched over your notebook, fingers scratching quick bullet points into the paper. you look up every ten minutes or so, head moving up and then rotating slowly, and then back to writing.

it’s only when yeonjun brings you your second cup of coffee that you notice the stiffness in your shoulders. he smiles at you, brightly. brightly? no, it’s the sun that’s bright, not yeonjun. he’s… moronic.

“wanna take a break?” he asks. you stand up in answer, taking the cup he holds out for you, the words thank you leaving your lips a little too quickly. he doesn’t overreact like you expect him to, his attention on some kids a few ways away from where the two of you are.

“you wanna play frisbee?” you mean to mock, not offer, but yeonjun’s ear perk up and he’s pulling you after him before another word can be said.

“hey, kids!” he greets the children who look like they’re maybe in middle school, “could we join y’all for a bit?”

it’s a a girl in pigtails who answers excitedly, probably encouraged by yeonjun’s looks (hey, yeonjun is objectively good-looking. just because you’re stating facts about his appearance doesn’t mean you’re in love with him. because you’re not in love with him.)

“sorry, this one is a little zoned out most of the time, so just don’t aim at her face,” you hear yeonjun say as you finish convincing yourself of your lack of feelings for him. you resist the itch to flip him off and flash a polite smile to the blonde boy next to you.

he responds with an enthusiastic wave, “hello! i’m ren!” you raise your eyebrows, not expecting him to introduce himself but return with a, “hey ren, i’m y/n. nice to meet—”

you’re cut off by yeonjun’s yell as the yellow frisbee flies your way. your hands come up to shield your face but ultimately it’s yeonjun’s body crashing into yours that saves you. does it, really? you wonder as you groan from under him. the grass is damp and you’re in it and yeonjun’s on top of you. you’re not sure what makes you more annoyed.

“i fucking hate you,” you whisper as yeonjun props himself up. he’s still close enough though so he grins, looking objectively good-looking despite the twig that’s found its way into his hair. “smile, babe, i just saved your life.”

you don’t know how to respond to his outrageous use of the endearment so you’re grateful when ren exclaims, “he just called y/n noona baby!!!! ewww, they’re dating!!”

on second thought, you’re not grateful because apparently, this is enough to wreak havoc among the group of children. weren’t they already at least ten? isn’t that old enough to not be annoying? you don’t find out because next thing, yeonjun’s hand is wrapped around your wist as he helps you up.

you shoot him a glare and the loud boy next to yeonjun screams, “they’re holding hands!!!”

“gosh darn, kids, your parents never touch each other or what?”

“my mother said my father’s breath smells like beer and that’s why she won’t give him kissies like she gives me them!” the girl in pigtails answers, proud for some reason. despite everything, you crack a smile at that, leaning into yeonjun’s side who’s struggling to stifle his laughter.

“i think we’ve had enough of a break, no?” he says to you and you nod, “please, let’s go before i’m forced to write about the bad parenting in my portfolio.”

about five minutes pass in you trying to break free from the group who insist on another round. another round takes two minutes before ren takes a hit to his knee and you both take the chance to leave, with you almost sprinting back to the peace of your bench in the shade.

you fall against the tree next to the bench, yeonjun close behind. “that was…” you take a moment to catch your breath, “not bad?”

yeonjun claps his hands together, “that’s exactly what i’ve been trying to tell you! this park! those kids! me? not bad!”

and well, because you guess you can allow that the whole affair isn’t half bad, it’s already evening when you’re too tired to write anymore. you look away from your almost illegible handwriting to find yeonjun gazing at you. weirdly (longingly).

he clears his throat, “you think you have enough?”

feeling weird (love-struck), you also clear your throat, “um, i should. i hope so, my fingers feel like they’re going to fall off.”

“that’s a good sign you’ve worked hard,” he pats your head. you don’t flinch away somehow. he continues, “it’s also a good sign that we should get some food.” when you narrow your eyes at him, he rushes to add, “you know, to relax your fingers.”

the excuse is ridiculous. the premise of this entire day is ridiculous. hell, yeonjun’s entire being is ridiculous. but you’re spent, your walls aren’t as rigid in the soft light of the sunset, and yeonjun’s eyes have an unreal glow when he’s silent.

and so, ridiculously enough, you answer yeonjun, “we should get sushi.”

—

that night, you return to your place to a tipsy party (?) of taehyun, soobin, and beomgyu with hueningkai glued to his phone-screen in concentration, filming everything. “you’re back!” kai announces when he opens the door, phone still recording, and you flip the camera off, not without a careless smile.

taehyun stands up at the sight of you, “i take it you had a fruitful date?” soobin laughs, so very loudly. “lmao,” (yes, soobin has the ability to say text slang out loud irl, next question please), “get it? fruit-ful? date? dates are fruits? am i drunk already?”

you shake your head at them and simply hug taehyun, feeling unbelievably affectionate today. “oh? what’s this? y/n initiating physical contact? choi yeonjun must be a god.”

you pull away, “this has nothing to do with him,” you say, sounding unconvincing even to your own ears, “i’m just tired. good night. if you make too much noise, i will take kai hostage and—”

“oh, do that anyway!! please, i’ll pay you!!!!” beomgyu shouts enthusiastically and you leave the living room before you have to witness any more of their drunken behavior.

but even in bed, you find yourself unable to sleep, mind occupied with… thoughts (is hanging out with so many men making you slightly dull? maybe. is it making emotionally constipated? absolutely. you make a mental note to schedule a lunch date with yeji later).

to be more specific, the image of yeonjun sat across from you holding out a piece of spicy tuna roll in your direction is too stubborn to leave your head. you think about yeonjun, among other things, that night.

yeonjun is no different, his mind still reeling from the realization that he’s spent an entire day with you. a day. a date? maybe, but whatever it was, you definitely couldn’t hate him too much if you could stand to spend that much time with him. you even shared a meal with him, laughed when he pretended his chopsticks were an airplane transporting food to your mouth. you humored him. you laughed with him. was that real?

—

if you think there’s nothing worse than waking up, walking out of your room— and right into yeonjun, then you’re wrong. because the disorientation you feel comes nowhere close to compare to yeonjun’s condition when he runs into you on his way to the common bathroom. he’s not sure what he else expected but it doesn’t surprise him to see that you sleep in a ginormous graphic tee (with mona lisa’s face on it?) and shorts.

“what are you doing here?”

the sense of deja vu overwhelms yeonjun for a moment before he smiles a little because your tone is not hostile, only confused. could he take this as progress? (or are you just half-asleep?)

“i’m… i’m here for brunch?” he’s a bit out of it by the time you raise your arms to stretch, heaving a half-groan, half-sigh. and listen, yeonjun’s not a pervert but he is considerably in love with you so seeing you with your slightly droopy eyes and slumped shoulders in your perfectly in-character pajamas sets off his imagination. to all kinds of destinations. (you as a domestic cat? you as a tired soul resting in his bed after a long night? god, he’s not doing this right now.)

“i don’t? i don’t remember agreeing to brunch?” you mumble confusedly, almost petulantly.

“you know,” announces soobin, suddenly revealing himself from the shadows (he’s literally been standing beside the two of you for two minutes, waiting for you to notice him. all he gets is the heat of the sexual tension between you and yeonjun. he could cook eggs on that shit.) “yeonjun was our friend before he knew you, y/n. actually, taehyun was our friend before he was your soulmate, so a brunch is a pretty normal occasion for us.”

yeonjun nods and you simply nod your head, probably too sleepy to make any witty comments at that. he shrugs, “but you’re more than welcome to join us if you want. for brunch? i’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything since our— since last night.” why’s yeonjun flustered? he’s only invited to brunch with four other people.

“i’m—” you’re cut off by yeonjun making his way to the bathroom. when he shuts the door behind him with a less than dramatic thud, you look at soobin in confusion. “so many things are happening too early in the morning.”

but brunch becomes a thing. and you join brunch, helping yourself to taehyun’s nearly perfect breakfast spread, your plate filled with bacon, eggs, and waffles.

“i say it’s nearly perfect because all we have in this house is fucking peanut butter!” you cry out, making taehyun give you a glare because he’s heard this many times before, “i don’t know how many times i’ll have to tell you this, but jam! jam is meant to be eaten with bread, it’s the only right way, it’s the way god intended things. do i look like a gym bro to you?”

“lol no,” says soobin, high-fiving you (you’re not sure if he does that because he agrees with your point about the jam, or if he’s also not a gym bro?) “y/n has a point. there’s so much more options with jam, think of all the berries you could be eating! peanut butter is the same old, same old.”

“god, i hate it when these two are in the same room.” you don’t have time to respond to beomgyu’s exasperated comment because yeonjun shifts closer to you on the sofa, coffee kettle in hand.

“want some? i’ll pour it out for you,” he offers, eyebrows raised. you pause for a second, mouth almost hanging open at how motherly he seems, but nod in a daze and watch as he stands up, takes out a black mug (that coincidentally happens to be your self-proclaimed mug) and pours coffee into it. you’re unaware of the little smile on your face when he brings it back to you, placing the hot mug next to your plate.

you’re about to think out loud about his motherliness when beomgyu follows up on his previous comment, even more boisterous, “oh, but these two in the same room are even worse.”

you look up at that to see the other three staring at you. you make a disgusted face, “why are y’all staring at me? please stop, i feel unsafe.”

“in that case, yeonjun must be feeling really fucking unsafe from how closely you’ve been staring at him,” laughs soobin, words slightly muffled from the food in his mouth. he’s lucky he’s your favorite friend (honestly, it’s just because he looks adorable with his cheeks full but eh, his personality wasn’t that bad you suppose).

“i’ve? not? been staring?” you ignore beomgyu’s snickering, picking up the coffee, “you guys need to get lives so that you stop searching so desperately for crumbs of drama here. i’m not here to serve as a source of entertainment for yo—” you promptly, contradict your statement by spilling the top half of your drink right into your lap.

while you sit there with scalding on your bare legs, it’s only yeonjun who seems concerned (overtly so, you’d observe if you’d care to admit it) with the others laughing their hearts out, satisfied at the comedic timing of your accident.

yeonjun, meanwhile, rushes to you with a handful of tissues, lips in a pout, “what the fuck, are you stupid? how do you spill that? have you never had coffee before?” you sit there trying to get the tissues from his hand, but he swats your attempts away, swiping the coffee from your thighs.

he’s much more careful that you would’ve been, making sure none of it soaks through your grey night shorts and a hand on your knee, probably to steady himself (spoiler: his hand on your knee doesn’t steady either of you, especially not him). but he manages himself well, his worrying outweighing all else as he looks up at you, “are you okay?”

you realize you haven’t said a word, eyes raising to taehyun’s who’s now looking away but watching slyly from his peripheral vision. beomgyu and soobin are in similar positions, pretending to be decent people when really, they’re over the moon.

“yeah, i’m okay, i didn’t really feel any of that,” you mumble, patting at your thighs, “but, um, sorry i wasted so much of your coffee.” yeonjun takes one of your hands, “no, don’t worry about it, i can always make more. you can’t make more of these legs.”

“okay! that’ll do it! i can’t take it any more!” beomgyu stands up with a melodramatic groan, “you two are gross, dude! like, not even in an elementary school way, you’re just objectively gross. i hate this.”

“what was that you said about not being our source of entertainment?” jokes soobin, elbow poking yours, pointing at you and then yeonjun who’s still crouching in front of you, one hand on you, “i very much feel like i’m in a k-drama right now, so i’ve no clue what you mean.”

you can sense from the tilt of taehyun’s grin that he’s about to follow suit with an equally, if not more, obnoxious comment, so you stand up, declaring, “i’m going to my room. i have a portfolio to finish in two days!”

you retire to your room after that, deciding concentrating on your work will do you some good now that you’ve… socialized? could you even call it that? you leave it at that, plopping down on your study desk where you would’ve usually conceptualized your rough drafts like you’d done yesterday in your notebook. it doesn’t compare to the park yeonjun took you to, but there is a window to your right from where you can see the slow street in front of your apartment. people-watching through that window has given you some pretty cool ideas for your pieces. you suppose it was like a pocket-sized version of your experience at the park.

you work the afternoon away, surprised to see it getting dark outside when there’s a knock at your door. you twist in your chair and call out, “come in!”

a light-brown head of hair pokes through and squinting in the darkness of your room, you can tell that’s not taehyun. “yeonjun?”

“woah, haven’t you got electricity in here?” he asks, stepping in and you see he’s put on a cream-colored cardigan on the blue shirt from brunch.

“nah, taehyun uses the money i give him for the electricity bill and gambles it all away,” you joke, sighing with feigned sorrow.

“ah, right, i forget taehyun has a gambling addiction. i’m sorry, miss, can’t imagine what it’s like to be married to someone like that.”

you laugh at that, yeonjun joining in. he leans in against the wall across from you, finding the switch to the lights in your room and turns them on. you’re both quiet for a moment.

you, because you’re reveling in the new-ness of your relationship with yeonjun. you feel like you’ve moved on in some way, no longer feeling caught up in the bitterness that had been coloring your interactions with him so far. he’s close to you, this yeonjun right now, who really, truly looks at you. you don’t even remember the yeonjun who broke your heart. (was it him who broke your heart? you begin to wonder, or just your imagination?)

for yeonjun, he doesn’t think he could’ve said anything even if he wanted to. you look so otherworldly in the dim glow of the evening, your eyes meeting his eyes, unapologetically and most importantly, without resentment. you’re beautiful, here silently in front of him, and he thinks he might have a chance with you after all.

“um,” he’s the one to break the silence, “have you eaten since brunch?”

you shake your head, “have you?”

“nope, beomgyu roped me into watching netflix with him when i tried to study,” he admits with a shy giggle, “next thing i knew the sun was setting.”

—

THE THIRD ACT: WINE FLIES WHEN YOU'RE HAVING FUN

conversations with yeonjun always lead the most unexpected places, and this one ends up with you driving with him to the supermarket. one day, you’re taking walks and playing frisbee with yeonjun, the next you’re grocery shopping with him because he’s had a whim to cook dinner for everyone. oh, how fast the night changes.. or however that one direction song goes.

“do you like spaghetti?” he asks, approaching the shelves stacked with different types of pasta.

“think before you ask me if i like pasta again, yeonjun,” you shoot back, inspecting the packets with your hands clasped behind your back. “wow, it’s been so long since i’ve been grocery shopping. taehyun never trusts me to get stuff and that’s how we end up with only peanut butter.”

yeonjun chuckles as he scans the shelves for the kind he likes and you shuffle around a lot, making little noises at all the cute shapes in the different packings. “they have heart-shaped pasta?!” you hold up the pink package excitedly at yeonjun who closes in on you with a fond smile.

“hmm, i think i get why taehyun never lets you come grocery shopping,” he starts, “it says here this a kids’ pasta.”

you regard him with your hands on your hips, unimpressed scowl on face, “you’re saying i have to be a kid to eat heart-shaped pasta? i don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

yeonjun is in a fit of laughter but he reaches out for your wrist as you pretend to walk away anyway with a hurried, “no, no, i think we should get the heart-shaped pasta.”

the rest of your trip is you roaming around being pulled off by the obscure brands and unusual types of foods while yeonjun grabs the ingredients you’ll actually need for dinner. about fifteen minutes later, when he’s done checking off everything on his list, he finds you typing away on your phone.

he catches a glimpse of the notes app on your phone and smiles as he comes to stand in front of you, “what’s up?”

“ohh, are you done?” you look away, “i got some ideas. i’ll use them for future pieces.”

“you’re done with your portfolio?” he asks. and you nod, eyes twinkling as the two of you head to the counter, “yep, i guess your plan with the park wasn’t completely a fail. it was not bad, really not bad.”

yeonjun laughs, piling the items for the worker to bill them. you gasp at the sight of a dark purple container, “you got blueberry jam?”

(fuck, his heart skips a beat. cheesy but valid. you look like you have hearts in your eyes.) “yeah, i saw it and thought you’d like it.”

you crack a delighted smile and even though both of you are paying for the groceries, you feel like you’ve been gifted the world. “i think i love you.” (you’re only joking. …right?)

—

“taehyun!!! beomgyu!!! soobin!!!!” you holler into the house, setting up five wine glasses around the table, “dinner’s ready!”

beomgyu is the first to come out, summoned by the smell of food, gaping at the fancy set-up of the two casseroles on the table, one bigger for the spaghetti and a small dedicated to your heart pasta. “woah, this looks insane,” he comments and calls out for the other two.

yeonjun emerges from the kitchen, the bottle of red wine you’d picked out with your hands. you hadn’t been the most helpful in the conquest of the pasta ingredients but you knew a thing or two about wine. this one was one the cheaper side so you didn’t have the greatest expectations for it, but it’ll have to do.

taehyun and soobin make it to the table five minutes later, shocked at seeing a table full of homemade meal. “is this, like, you and yeonjun announcing that you’re officially a couple?” soobin asks. (he’s not joking. the way the two of you stare down at the dinner you’ve put together proudly truly has him convinced that you’re finally over the pining.)

clearly this is not the case but the sight of both of you turning as red as the spaghetti for dinner is enough to elicit a few chortles from all of them. “honestly… shut up, soobin,” yeonjun scolds and you take a seat at the table wordlessly.

the dinner is an experience. it’s been a while since any of you have had good home-cooked food like this, the past few weeks having been cluttered with take-out meals and the extent of cooking you’ve done involves frozen food.

“this is so good,” you hold up a heart pasta, waving it in the air at everyone, and then at yeonjun, “i told you this would be good. it’s so good.”

“judging from the way you’re acting like a child, i’m guessing you’re done with your portfolio?”

you glare at taehyun but nod anyway, shooting him a thumbs up, “done and dusted, sir. i even managed to proof-read it before submitting it this time.”

yeonjun has been sitting beside you, eyes round with adoration at everything you say. you can’t blame him, you’d changed into a white dress with puff-sleeves before dinner which doesn’t only fit the mood but single-handedly creates it, and it’s a rare thing to see you in a dress so casually.

taehyun smiles, “i’m proud of you. even though you’re doing the bare minimum by completing your work on time.”

you roll your eyes at his twisted way of affection, the words on the tip of your tongue dying out when yeonjun leans into you suddenly, arm reaching out for the bottle of wine beside you. he shoots you a half-smile when he meets your gaze, pouring some out for you. as he returns to his position, he says under his breath, “try not to spill this on yourself, babe.��

you hold in the giddy breath that almost escapes your throat at his words, but you can’t stop the mellow feeling that blooms in your chest, eyes following him as he pours some wine for the others, too. was it the wine that was mellow or yeonjun’s voice? (hint: it was the moment of his love for you that was mellow.)

you make it through dinner, occasionally asserting the supremity of your heart-shaped pasta for kids here and there, but overall, overwhelmed by the man by your side. when everyone’s finished eating and lazing around the sofa, beers in hand (”wine is for sissies,” beomgyu aims at you because he knows you hate it when he says that, “let’s get beer guys.”), you take to the balcony with a glass full of wine to yourself.

the night air is pleasant after the warm atmosphere inside the house and you breathe through your mouth a few times, to calm your nerves. you can feel yeonjun’s eyes on you from the living room but choose to stay still, welcoming the feeling of spacing out in solitude.

“you alright?” his voice greets your ears not two moments later. (is he really close to you right now? or is the balcony just too small for two people?)

you hum affirmatively. then, you look at him, a light laugh leaving your chest. you’re leaning into his side now, you enjoy his warmth. “i’m good.”

“didn’t know wine could make you drunk,” he breathes, heart in his throat.

you shake your head at him, “i’m not drunk.” you hesitate and then, “at best, i’m tipsy.”

“i was talking about myself. i feel drunk. ‘s never happened before.”

you frown, throwing a careless glance over your shoulder, “beer and wine? yeah, that’ll make you drunk.”

“i didn’t have any beer,” he reveals. when you narrow your eyes, he continues, “i’m not lying. i don’t like to mix the two. i’ve read it gives you headaches.”

you stay silent, holding your breath for no special reason. (…)

“besides, once i start something, i like committing to it.” if his words themselves aren’t meaningful enough, the soft look on his face is full of unmistakable love.

“you’re not just talking about wine,” at first, it’s a statement you speak, your gaze fixed. then, memories of your past hurt rush in and you finish with an uncertain, “are you?”

“i’m not,” his voice is hushed and you feel there isn’t a moment lost between when he says his words and when you hear them. you’re so close to him, in all meanings of the word. “do you still hate me?”

you’re a little stunned by the jarring question. “i didn’t hate you. really, it was… something internal. like a dilemma. a phase, almost? i don’t think i could hate you if i wanted to.”

“you think?” you can feel his words inside of yourself now, even though you doubt either of you have moved any closer to each other.

yeonjun’s heart is on fire, destructive but determined. his hand brushes back your hair. “you’re so pretty when you wear your hair down.”

you hide your face in your shoulder, away from him, flustered that his words have such an effect on you. you’ve been complimented before. with much more zest, with more elaboration. but this is different. you feel like yeonjun is holding you.

he chuckles, “are you okay?”

you pull yourself away, swallowing, but not making eye-contact with him yet. “that’s the first time you’ve called me pretty.”

“that’s the first time you’ve heard me calling you pretty,” he corrects you. his fingers are in your hair again, this time to make you look at him. “you should listen to my thoughts sometime.”

you laugh and he’s moving closer, both his hands coming to your face. your hands move from where they’ve been clasping the balcony railing for dear life and find yeonjun’s waist, silently beckoning him nearer.

when your noses touch, yeonjun hums, “i’m crazy for you, y/n.”

you want to chuckle at his silly phrasing but instead, you’re saying it back, “fuck, i’m the crazy one, yeonjun. i’ve—” you stop your words, suddenly hesitant.

but yeonjun is firm, his lips hovering over yours and his question will you kiss me? unanswered because you’re already kissing him when he asks you.

(this kiss is. . . not bad.)

—

EPILOGUE: A SELF-AWARE SLANDER OF SHORT STORIES

“so…” your voice struggles to stay stable as you prop yourself on your elbows, yeonjun’s arms never letting loose of your sides. “when you say you’re crazy, is it that you’re crazy for me or crazy because of me?”

yeonjun stops in the middle of the tantrum he’s throwing with his buried in your neck. he blows out air through his mouth and you giggle, your hands pulling him up by the hair. “answer me!”

he sighs, “i don’t know, babe. both? neither? either.”

“come on, there’s a fundamental difference between the two,” you whine, “am i a symptom of your craziness or the cause of it?” he stays motionless, lips pressing against your cheek. you add, “just so you know, there’s no right answer. i’m honored to be either.”

“god, i can’t believe you’re using your boyfriend as material that’s going to be read by your entire class. a class of pretentious, sleep-deprived kids. they’ll hate me, y/n.”

you groan, kissing yeonjun’s ear lightly, “not true! you’re a very cute boyfriend.”

“so you are using me for your creative writing class?”

you pause and yeonjun flops onto the bad, pouting and feigning a cold shoulder. “the audacity of women these days!”

“hey!” you pull him back into you, “i’ll have you know that my love language is turning people into literature.”

yeonjun’s pout is already fading when taehyun’s voice breaks into your room (you should probably re-inforce the rule about knocking now that there’s a half-naked man in your room more often than not). “that’s true. she’s already written a story about me.”

your boyfriend’s interest is piqued at this, his eyes jumping between taehyun and you. “what? really?? and you haven’t written about me?”

“i’m trying to! you’re not making it easy.”

“did you ask him all these questions when you wrote a whole story about him?” taehyun cackles in glee at yeonjun’s returning pout.

you roll your eyes, “yeonjunie, it was a short story— the most unromantic form of literature. i’m basically saying i would rather write a bunch of boring description than even think about having sex with him.”

“hmm, it seemed like a pretty enthusiastic piece to me,” taehyun supplies unhelpfully. you glare at him. if you weren’t in just your bra, you would’ve gotten up to shut the door in his face.

“babe, i’m having serious doubts—”

you quickly shut down yeonjun’s whining, “i want to write a poem about you, my love. that’s why i’m asking you so much. it takes a little more to be properly romantic! i want to be truthful.”

he hesitates and you kiss his nose to seal the deal. taehyun groans in defeat, “gross. i just came here to get your asses to brunch. hyuka’s brought mint chocolate snacks from home so we need someone to handle him, so please hurry,” he starts to close the door as he leaves, but stops when the two of you make no move to wake up, “and you’d better not start fucking now! nobody needs to hear that this early in the morning, especially not poor hyuka.”

you laugh into yeonjun’s chest as he shouts back comforting words to taehyun. his lips attach to your shoulder. “i love you, y/n. you’re the explanation for my craziness.”

you shift to look back at him, smile widening, “hm, that’s interesting. can i quickly write that down-? okay, okay, sorry, i was kidding, love, come back here!!”

—

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bazwillendinflames · 1 year

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Universe City Lore

So, for week three of February Friday, @februaryfridayevents I decided to go a bit more meta. I’ve been rereading the book and making notes about what we actually know of the podcast, beyond the extracts we have. I’ve catergorised this into what is in the podcast and what format it takes in (details on running time, format etc.) Not sure if this is as interesting to everyone else but I found it fun!

Universe City Content

It is set in the 26th century

It is formatted as a distress call

Every episode starts with ‘Hello, I hope someone is listening’

The protagonist is Radio Silence, who is agender (being referred to with they/them) and either bisexual or pansexual (according to Frances Radio has a range of love interests across a range of genders)

Radio’s voice changes from male, female and androgynous, speaking in a ‘classic, WW2 radio accent’

Radio wears a full suit and gloves (which they don’t take off) and is a ‘suit-wearing student detective’

Radio has pink, chin length hair

Radio has ‘special powers’ of some kind

Radio has a lunar bike

Radio has allies - Vulpes, Atlas, Toulouse (voiced by Frances), Chester, Marine, Jupiter, Atom

Enemies - monsters, demons, androids, the Governors,

It is set in Universe City, ‘a sci-fi, monster-infested university’

Universe City’s settings include the Dark Blue Building, Lonely Road

Letters to February is a recurring segment, towards the end of the episode

Every episode ends with the song ‘Nothing left For Us’ with the lyrics: theres nothing left for us anymore/why arent you listening/why arent you listening to me/theres nothing left

Running of Universe City

Aled began Universe City in 2011, after the school was burnt down (February 4th, 2011) but before Carys left (Summer 2011), frances has tweeted about it in april 2011, so it was before this time

Aled and Daniel worked on the early episodes together

They both perform in the song, Daniel on bass, Aled on guitar

Frances does art, which is usually a gif that is repeated

Aled is initially anonymous, known as ‘the creator’

The episodes are 20 minutes long and posted on Fridays

Aled has under 50,000 subscribers when he tells Frances he is running it (page 41) and each episode has 5,000-6,000 views before the ‘ghost school’ episode

Letters to February is a recurring segment, addressed to Carys (whose middle name is February)

#radio silence #universe city #osemanverse #alice oseman

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jackoshadows · 9 months

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The way Jonsa shippers keep insisting all over the Jon tag that Jon Snow is only interesting if he gets together with Sansa. We know!! Jonsa has always been a Sansa ship - by and for Sansa stans.

Every Jonsa post I have read makes it clear how much they dislike book Jon Snow, his canon relationships and story arc. Which is why they rewrite the character with the Jonsa version being this unrecognizable, mangled and mutilated OC blob who has even less in common with the book version than even the show version.

That’s why they don’t read his chapters and headcanon his personality, narrative themes and story arcs as some kind of fairy tale prince whose story will have meaning only, only if he loves and marries Sansa.

That’s why they erase Arya from Jon’s story and write ‘metas’ on how GRRM will repeat Jon’s entire ADwD story with Sansa in TWoW, why they turn Dany into a villainous monster and keep telling everyone that Jon is boring because his story so far has apparently only been about prophecies and dragons....

Oh and also their Sansa is the most interesting character in the whole series - her chapters are all about Sansa being an adept politician and making treaties with other leaders, negotiating, trying to save people, understanding her privilege, learning about other cultures, conflicted between duty and love, butting heads with her deputies, trying to grow food and she will teach Jon Snow how to be a wise politician leading to Jon murdering the evil Daenerys for his truest and fairest love in all of Westeros, Sansa Stark.

We get it - the bastard navigating the Westerosi class system and bigoted prejudices as he earns his way to the top will only be interesting as a prop side character to pro status quo Sansa Stark. And if GRRM does not write Jonsa, then the whole series is boring and useless and has no point to it....

The story is apparently not about the outcasts and the underdogs, the dregs of society, the characters who are trying to make something of themselves in an unjust world, who are ambitious and want better things for themselves, who are kind and want better things for others. Nah, all that is boring for these shippers.

Again, this is what happens when one skips entire chapters of the characters and instead read Jonsa ‘metas’ and farcical theories on how GRRM is writing the entire book in secret code and all the characters in Jon’s story like Sam and Satin are actually code for Sansa and stand ins for Sansa, that whenever Jon thinks of Arya he is actually thinking deep in the recesses of his brain about Sansa, that Jon had a crush on Sansa because he couldn’t resist 11 year old Sansa’s beauty, that growing up he settled for ‘ugly’ Arya because as a bastard he just could not hope to ever get beautiful Sansa. That Jon’s story from AGoT to ADwD has no point or purpose and his actual story only starts when Sansa gets there....

If one really thinks that Jon Snow’s 42 POV chapters is him being a ‘cut and dried fantasy hero’ and that the character will be boring if he plays a main role in defeating the existential apocalyptic threat from beyond the Wall - a story that he has been part of from book one - in a grimdark high fantasy novel and instead his character will only be interesting if he transports to Disneyland, settles down with the most beautiful, wise and fair queen Sansa and they had ten children and lived happily ever after, then perhaps the Jonsa section of AO3 would be more suited to one’s reading than A Song of Ice and Fire by GRRM. Just saying.

#Jon Snow #anti Jonsa #How does one skip all the Jon Tyrion and Arya chapters which are huge chunks of the books and still enjoy it #How do these people just enjoy these books for the Sansa chapters?#I don't get it #But yeah this is basically the Jonsa ship - as in we don't like Jon's story or find it interesting so far #It will only be interesting if Sansa is in it #He's a prop and a side character for her story

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year

Note

Perhaps maybe a little something with Aemond inspired by the song Sucker by the Jonas Brothers?

Can be smut or not

👉👈😳 maybe possibly if that's okay

Side-eyeing you hard for your terrible taste in music lol I could not bring myself to listen to The Jonas Brothers, so Googled the lyrics and chose this:

"Don't complicate it 'Cause I know you and you know everything about me I can't remember All of the nights I don't remember When you're 'round me."

Warnings: Angst, mutual pining. Word count: ~900

“A toast!” Aegon shouts for what feels like the hundredth time that evening, draining the contents of his wine goblet in a single swallow.

She follows suit, wincing as the ruby liquid burns her throat. Her head is starting to swim from the effects of the alcohol, she is not used to drinking quite so much in such a short space of time.

Surprisingly, Aemond is keeping pace with the pair of them. He normally refrains from imbibing altogether. He is keeping his composure so well that she cannot tell if he feels as thoroughly soused as she does.

“To your final night of freedom!” Aegon jeers at Aemond, slopping wine across the dining table as he moves to refill both their goblets.

Her face falls as she remembers the exact reason why they’re sitting drinking together in the first place. Aemond is getting married tomorrow.

She had been a ward of House Targaryen since she was eight years old. Not possessing the interests that were typical of a highborn lady, she had gravitated towards Aegon and Aemond. She had enjoyed watching them spar. She even learned to wield a sword herself under their instruction, when Ser Criston Cole wasn’t around to fret that it was too dangerous an undertaking for a lady.

Aemond had shared his books with her, and she’d accompanied him on his many visits to the dragonpit as he’d admired the beasts that dwelled there, longing for one of his own. She had always taken Aemond’s side throughout Aegon, Jace and Luke’s relentless teasing. She’d shared in Aemond’s devastation when he’d lost his eye at Luke’s hand.

He was her best friend. She had never considered it anything more than that as the years had passed, until Alicent and Otto had broken the news that Aemond was to be betrothed to a Baratheon girl.

She had felt her heart shatter, all the air leaving her lungs. She was going to lose him when she was only just realising she was in love with him.

She had buried her feelings, gritted her teeth and learned to bear it as the pretty dark haired girl had visited the Red Keep over the course of the year-long courtship.

Things between her and Aemond had remained unchanged and for that she was grateful. She had assumed that now he was to be married he would pull away from her, but he continued to spend every spare moment with her. It was bittersweet torture.

Now it is the eve of the wedding and Aegon is determined to send his younger brother off in style, or at least ensure he exchanges his vows on the morrow with a sore head.

She places a hand over her wine goblet as Aegon attempts to refill it. “I have had enough, I think.” She says. “I need some air.”

She draws in a steadying breath as the cool night breeze hits her flushed skin as she steps out into the gardens. Leaning against a wall, she looks up at the stars, gathering her thoughts. I just need to get through tomorrow…and then what? Learn to live a lifetime without the person who has your heart and is completely unaware of it.

“Are you alright?”

Aemond’s voice startles her and her eyes flit down to look at him. There is a slight sway in how he is standing and a small smile tugs at her lips as she realises he is every bit as drunk as she is.

“Too much wine.” She half lies, ignoring the way her heart flutters as he draws near.

“Mmm.” He reaches up a hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I wish it was you.”

The way his voice slurs slightly does nothing to dilute the shock of his words, or the gooseflesh that prickles her skin at the feel of his touch.

“W-what?” She stammers, eyes wide and pulse racing.

Aemond closes his eye, his nostrils flaring as he takes in a deep breath, before placing the flat of his palm on the wall beside her head and looking down at her.

“You.” He utters. “I should be marrying you.”

Her heart feels as though it has leapt into her throat. She cannot get enough air into her lungs as she stares up at him, wide eyed. “You are in your cups, Aemond, you do not mean that.”

He shakes his head, bringing the hand that is pressed against the wall behind her down to caress her cheek. “I do. The wine has simply given me the courage to say out loud what I have always felt. Tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

Her eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his warm palm against her cheek. “I can’t.” She whispers, opening her eyes to gaze at him sadly. “But it does not matter. You are marrying someone else tomorrow.”

“We still have tonight.” Aemond offers, leaning close to her, his lips mere inches from her own. “I would rather have a single night with you than a lifetime of not knowing how it feels to be loved by you.”

She says nothing as Aemond closes the gap between them, kissing her hungrily. She melts into the embrace, returning his passion with equal fervour. This time when she tastes wine it is upon his mouth and she does not wince. Nothing has ever tasted so delicious.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond stannies #aemond one eye #pro aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #hotd aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd angst #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fan fiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fiction

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russilton · 18 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/russilton/747045752953602048

sorry english is not my first language but what does it mean? why is everyone talking about this so much

Oh boy anon, you’ve made me have to break out the actual lyrics to make sure I’m not misremembering for you, that’s how seriously I’m taking it

Lewis, George, and the Hips don’t Lie video:

So, a couple things to explain here, first i’ll just recount what’s said to make sure it’s clear, then what it means

———

Apparently it all begins when a fan yells “shakira!” At them

Lewis, while laughing: no no no, I don’t sing that one, it doesn’t suit me.

Lewis, pointing at George: it would suit him! He would say his hips don’t lie

George, immeditaly changing the subject: Before the races, I always hear Lewis singing in the room next door, and I don’t know if he’s trying to soothe me or distract me— I don’t know what.

Lewis grins and keeps nodding.

———

Now what Lewis is talking about is the Shakira song, “Hips don’t lie”. It’s arguably her most famous song, and pretty well know. It’s also well known for being… not subtle. The point of the song is the singer, in that case shakira, is singing to a man to watch the way her body moves and her body language in order to know that she’s interested in him.

To put it bluntly-its a song about fucking, plain and simple, and if you don’t believe me, just see the lyrics

As you can tell, even if it’s heavy on the metaphor, it’s very blatantly a song about lust and desiring after one another, along with the encouraging of the man she’s singing to ace on his feelings because she’s noticed and likes it

Finally; why are we all talking about it so much?

Well, to be honest anon, because it’s so flirty and forward it’s sort of shocking. Please remember we’re all just here having fun and engaging in a bit of hyper bole, if they look at each other too long our little enthusiastic group is yelling that they’re sluts who should get a room— creative liberties are being taken and nobody is actually implying these two real men are sleeping together.

That contentment with so little means we are utterly unprepared for such a blatant comment with clear innuendo. This is a joke I’ve made at my actual girlfriend in some form, with the comedy behind it being I know what her hips do and that’s why it suits her.

We’re all of talking about it both because of that and it’s so out of pocket! Nobody brings it up, George doesn’t lead it in, Lewis just hears someone yell shakira and his brain goes shakira-> hips don’t lie-> George Russell. And then he says it, essentially implying he has good knowledge of just how George uses his hips to seduce, so the song fits.

That is a line right out of a fanfic we’d write, that’s why we’re all so blown away!

On top of that already wild moment was the fact George just… doesn’t react. No shock or anything, just dives right into telling everyone Lewis sings every race. He used to joke Lewis was trying to keep him awake or annoy him- but he’s now changed his language to say “soothe me or distract me” which both really imply that George actually enjoys it quite a bit.

So yeah! Those are some very charged implications they’re making, and call me a bit coin transaction because I’m eating that charge UP

#asks #anonymous #gewis

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beautifultypewriter · 1 year

Text

Paul Fluff Alphabet

Requested: No

Warnings: Vampires, mentions of drugs

Full credit to whoever created this template (I still don’t actually know who that is). Gif credit to the owner. Also, I changed the prompt for letter Q from quaint to quickstep.

Well here it is. I am so in love with him it’s not even funny. This is 4K words. My longest fluff alphabet yet.Also, a huge thank you to the like 2 people who were interested in seeing this. You’re the best!

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Uh, everything. No, really though, man loves everything about you. He thinks you are the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen, and he feels so lucky to be yours. He especially loves that you’re willing to go absolutely crazy with him and get into all sorts of trouble. That spirit of yours fires him up. If you asked him what he finds the most attractive about you he’d probably wink and say something like, ‘your butt, babe.’ Just smack him in the back of the head and he’ll give you a real answer.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Okay, so babies are not really in the cards for you two, considering Paul’s vampire problem (and yours one day too). That being said, he would have really liked to have kids with you. He would have definitely been the fun dad. Everything would have been a good time and discipline would not have been his strong suit, so it’s probably better that the two of you don’t ever have kids. He’s okay with not ever getting to have kids with you because you’re the only family he needs (and the boys) which he makes sure to remind you of constantly. Plus, you guys have Laddie and that’s good enough for him.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

This man loves to cuddle. He loves it. He doesn’t have a favorite position, just so long as the two of you are pressed together and his hands are on you then he’s happy. Paul is a very touchy person, so cuddling is always heaven for him. Most of your cuddling takes place in the cave. It’s just easier that way. The two of you will press up against each other on the couch, Paul’s arms immediately wrap around you. Your head on his chest, your hands holding his or wrapped around his waist, his fingertips drawing patterns on your hip, your fingers running through his hair, he loves it all. He really loves pressing his face against your neck. You smell so sweet to him, so he will take any chance he can get to nuzzle his nose against your skin. When the two of you lay down in your nest for the day, you more often than not, end up facing each other, your foreheads pressed together, your hands playing with his hair, and his arms wrapped around you. Basically, just cuddle Paul whenever you can. He loves it.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Going on dates with Paul is a lot of fun because you never know where you’re gonna end up. He has a couple of basic dates, going to the record store, hitting every ride on the boardwalk, beach dates, and bike dates, but they never end the same. He’s keeping things fresh and looking for new spots to explore. Paul is always doing the absolute most and making sure that you’re having a good time whenever the two of you go out. You ride with the boys to the boardwalk and when you get there, Paul shouts, ‘date night!’ and the two of you peel off from the others. Paul really likes record store dates because the two of you will spend hours flipping through the records and tossing covers to each other of the albums you think the other will like. Whenever a good song starts to play, Paul looks over at you and starts mouthing the words to you from across the store. If you try to hide from him when he does then he saunters over and starts actually singing to you, his arms moving to wrap around your waist. Sometimes he goes over to the store’s record player and swaps out the albums to your favorites and no one says a word to him about it. Other times, he’ll grab your hands and dance through the aisles with you.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

Everything.

You are the love of his eternal life. You are his family, his best friend, his babe. You walked into his life, and he would die if you ever walked out of it. Paul often talks about how you are all he needs. It’s whispered quietly in the early morning light before the two of you fall asleep, while his forehead is pressed to yours and his eyes are closed. He’s smiling as he’s telling you that you are everything to him. He would be so lost without you.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

The moment he saw you? Really, though, the moment he truly knew that he loved you and, more importantly, that you loved him was when you saw his vampire form and didn’t immediately scream and run. It was a very vulnerable moment for a not so vulnerable guy, and he was very nervous in the days leading up to his big reveal. He had told you that he had a pretty big secret that he wanted to share with you and even though you had held his hands and looked him straight in the eyes as you told him that he could tell you anything, he was nervous. He had brought you to a secluded part of the beach and in true Paul fashion, he just jumped right in and transformed. He had put plenty of space between the two of you in hopes that it would help you feel safe, and he just stood there, waiting. You had stared at him, your eyes wide and your jaw dropped, but you didn’t move, and you didn’t say anything. Paul was crawling out of his skin. The silence was killing him, and he could barely stand still, but he knew he had to for you. Then you took a shaky step closer, and he couldn’t help it, he moved closer as well. The two of you met in the middle and your shaky hands moved to rest on his cheeks. He melted into your touch, his eyes closing. He knew then that you’d never leave him and he’d never leave you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Yes, at certain times he is. Paul is really loud and excited, and he loves to have a good time, so things can be rushed with him and with that rushing can come some rougher movements, but it’s never intentional. He just needs to slow down and if you tell him that then he’ll take extra care to not pull you so hard on the boardwalk or to slow his bike down a bit. Paul really cares about your comfort; he just needs some guidance sometimes. That being said, he does have his moments of gentleness that are entirely him. When the two of you first wake at night, he doesn’t want to get up right away, so he pulls you closer and presses soft kisses all over your face. If you whisper to him then he’ll whisper back, his eyes still closed as you start to stir. Before you get up, he presses one last gentle kiss to your lips.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Whenever the two of you are at the boardwalk, he is holding your hand. Paul is a wanderer, so he likes to interlock his fingers with yours. This ensures that the two of you don’t get separated and it also makes it easier for him to drag you along when something catches his eye, which is quite often. When he gets excited about a new ride or a new shop, he’ll squeeze your hand and pull you over to check it out. He’s been known to pull your interlocked hands up to his lips and kiss your knuckles. He smirks at you whenever he does. Paul loves holding your hand, so even when the two of you stop moving, he doesn’t let go. And if he does then his arm is around your shoulders or he’s squeezing your waist. Man has to be touching you at all times.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Love at first sight. As soon as he saw you, he needed to know you. You were flipping through records in his favorite shop and if he had been breathing then he would have stopped right then and there. If his heart had been beating it would have sped up to an ungodly rhythm. He honestly had no idea what to do at first. Like he was so struck by you that he couldn’t just walk over and start talking to you. Marko and Dwayne had to push him over, his head was spinning. Then you looked at him and smiled and he knew. He plastered on his own charming smile and leaned against the table next to the two of you. Your smile grew bigger, and he felt a calmness wash over him and he started flirting heavily. As each second passed he moved in closer to you, that fuzzy feeling in his chest growing.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

He really doesn’t. Because he knows that nothing compares to him. You chose to spend eternity with him, and he knows that there is nothing in the mortal world that could ever pull you away from him. He does get a little annoyed when someone continues to pursue you when it’d been made clear that you are not interested. Like don’t they see him standing there? Don’t they see his hand in your back pocket? They’re being stupid and it’s annoying him. Usually, you steer him away from the person before he can do anything crazy, but you better believe that he committed their face to memory and he will be making a meal of them later.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Paul’s kisses are fast and messy. Definitely full of passion too. He loves kissing you, so expect a lot of lip locking when you’re with him. He’s capable of more gentle kisses, but he gets so excited that you really can’t expect them often. He does try, okay.

He did. He’s Paul. Of course, he did. It was your second date and Paul had taken you down to the beach to enjoy a bonfire. Something told you that he hadn’t built that fire himself, but you didn’t really care. It was there and the atmosphere was too good to go around questioning things. Paul was sitting impossibly close to you in the sand, staring at the side of your face as you looked into the fire. His fingertips danced across your bare shoulder and your head snapped to him, your eyes locking with his. He flashed you a charming smile as he moved in closer to you. You stayed where you were, a small smirk gracing your lips. Paul’s smile widened as he closed the gap between you two, pressing his lips roughly to yours, teeth clashing slightly. You responded immediately, your fingers tangling in his hair and his hands moving to grip your waist tightly. You pulled back, sucking air into your lungs quickly. Paul smirked and licked your cheek before claiming your lips again.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Paul said it first. The two of you were on the boardwalk. Paul was sitting on one of the railings and you were standing between his legs, your elbows resting on his knees and his arms wrapped around your shoulders. He had been pressing kisses to your neck and you were trying to ignore the heat rushing to your cheeks. You whined his name and he smirked, barely pulling away, so his lips brushed your neck as he spoke, ‘come on, baby, you know you love me.’ And you rolled your eyes and snorted, shaking your head. Paul pulled back further, ‘alright, you may not love me, but I certainly love you, sugar.’ Your head snapped in his direction and although he was smirking, his eyes were genuine. You crashed your lips against his, muttering your own ‘I love you’ between kisses. Kisses that Paul was only too happy to return.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

Look, he honestly loves every moment he spends with you, but if Paul had to pick one specific memory of the two of you it would definitely be the very first time he took you for a ride on his bike. At this point, you were still human, so you were a bit apprehensive when he straddled his bike and held his hand out to you. He could see the nervousness on your face, and he chuckled quietly, ‘come on, sugar, you know I won’t let anything happen to you.’ Your heart fluttered, he heard it, and you took his hand, letting him pull you onto the bike behind him. With a smirk, he told you to hold on tight and he immediately took off. To you it felt like you guys were going 100mph, but truthfully, Paul had been taking it slower than normal. That is until he heard your sweet laughter. With the wind whipping at your face and Paul’s maneuvering, you found yourself lost in the moment. Paul took the chance to go a bit faster and when you didn’t freak out, he went faster again. It was just the two of you and the wind and he couldn’t have been happier.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Yeah. He loves to spoil you with little trinkets that he gets with his five-finger discount. It’s never anything big or crazy, but he loves to give you gifts. You were eyeing a pair of earrings on the boardwalk? The next day you find them in your jacket pocket. You’ve been meaning to pick up a new book? Paul is tossing it to you before you can even leave the cave. Sometimes it’s just a pretty shell or some beach glass. Something pretty that he saw that he thought you would like. Your nest in the cave is filled with all manner of little charms that Paul has gifted to you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Red

Bright and passionate. Whenever Paul sees the color red, which is quite often, he thinks of you. He thinks of the fun the two of you have together. He thinks of flashing lights blurring by the two of you as you ride down the boardwalk together, your arms wound tightly around his waist as his bike picks up speed. Red is fiery like you. It burns and he loves it.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Man has got a list of pet names. The most notable ones are babe and sugar. It doesn’t stop there though; he’s calling you every name in the book. Baby, girlie, baby girl, hot stuff, he’s got so many nicknames. He almost never uses your given name (unless the situation calls for it). He just has so much fun with the pet names, especially the ones that seem to make you all flustered. Make sure you dish them back to him because he dies when you call him baby or hot stuff. Just be prepared because as soon as one of those pet names passes your lips, he’s on you. He can’t help himself.

Q = Quickstep (How do they feel about dancing?)

Paul loves to dance, and he especially loves to dance with you. He will take any chance he can get to turn the volume on the rock box all the way up and dance around with you. He doesn’t care if it disturbs everyone else in the cave, he’s doing it. Paul will also dance with you if there’s no music around. All of you will be on the boardwalk, just standing by the railings, looking for your next meal and Paul will grab your waist and start swaying with you. It earns a laugh from you and an eye roll from David every time. Paul absolutely loves it though and will pull you closer and start singing quietly in your ear as he continues to sway.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Rainy days are cave days. None of the boys feel like going anywhere, especially with the bikes, so you all stay in and have a good time together. Paul breaks out his rock box and immediately starts dancing with you. The other boys watch on in amusement and Marko and Dwayne each take a turn spinning you around the makeshift dance floor as Paul rolls a few joints. You all settle down at some point and Paul pulls you into his lap and you share a joint. You and David talk about books while Paul and Marko wrestle each other as the music continues to blare. At one point Laddie crawls into your lap and asks for a story. As you’re telling him some fairytale you remember from when you were a kid, Paul looks over and smiles at the two of you. Marko takes advantage of his momentary distraction and slams him to the floor, proclaiming victory. You laugh quietly as Paul jumps up and tackles his brother to the floor. Dwayne rolls his eyes, and you go back to your story. Paul eventually makes his way over and lays his head on your shoulder, listening to the end of the story. As the night winds down, Dwayne grabs a sleeping Laddie from you and Paul doesn’t hesitate to lead you over to your guys’ little nest. He turns the music off before he lays you down and wraps you up in his arms. The two of you talk quietly as the rain continues to pour outside until you fall asleep.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Paul’s not really one to get sad. He’s too full of life and fun to ever really let feelings like sadness get to him. He has had his moments though and before you came along, his brothers usually just left him to it, knowing that he would snap himself out of it eventually and be fine. You, however, really want to help him when you notice that he seems a bit down, so you turn on the rock box and sing along at the top of your lungs, dancing around the space as he watches you. It’s not long before he’s smiling and jumping up to dance with you, pressing a hard kiss to your lips. Basically, if you want to cheer Paul up all you have to do is something crazy that he’ll want to join in on. If Paul notices that you’re not really being yourself and you seem sad then he’s going to try his hardest to cheer you up. He can’t stand to see you upset, so he’s suggesting date night or a dance session. If you agree, then he’s dragging you out and showing you the time of your life. If you’re not really feeling it, then he’s at a bit of a loss. Doing something fun and crazy always cheers him up, so he’s not really sure what to do next. At that point he’ll just sit with you and hold you because that’s all he can think of. He’s always shocked when it works.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Listen, he’s kind of a chatterbox. Like sometimes you have to yell at him to get him to shut up. It’s good though because you two are going to spend eternity together, you don’t want to run out of things to talk about. Paul can talk a mile a minute about anything. Music is probably his favorite thing to talk about honestly. Which bands rock and which ones suck, his favorite song, your favorite song, who’s a better drummer, anything to do with music. The one thing you’ve noticed that Paul refuses to talk about is his life before he became a vampire. If you ever try to get him to open up about his human life, he changes the subject. It’s a sore spot for him and he’d rather not discuss it. He does love to tell stories about the boys though. Like the time he and Marko broke a table at the local diner (like the tabletop clean in half) and had to hightail it out of there before David found out. Or about the first time they all went to that bridge. Paul has endless stories, and he loves telling them.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Paul is definitely a really free, unconcerned person for the most part. He doesn’t let a lot of things get to him, so when he needs to relax it’s because he’s overstimulated himself with his lifestyle and he needs to take it down a bit before he flies through a wall. A smoke and cuddle session is the perfect way to bring him back down to Earth before he hurts himself. Paul will be bouncing off the walls and all you have to do is sit down on the couch and light up one of his joints. He’ll immediately hone in on you and before he even realizes it, his feet have carried him over to the couch. You smile up at him, patting the cushion beside you. He’ll flop down and take the joint from your outstretched hand, using his other hand to pull you into his lap. A few puffs later and he’s melted into the couch, his face buried in your neck and his free hand drawing shapes on your skin.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Oh, Paul is very proud of his hair. Can you blame him? It’s beautiful. He definitely puts a lot of care into it and it’s what people first notice about him when they see him. He loves that you love his hair too and he probably takes a little more care than usual now that you’re around. He needs his hair to be as appealing as possible because he’s just waiting for you to run your fingers through it. It’s the best feeling.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Paul didn’t actually propose to you or at least not in any traditional sense. When he revealed his true nature to you, and you didn’t run screaming he took it as a good sign. Then when he asked you to join him for eternity and sleep all day and party all night and you said yes, it was an even better sign. In his brain, you saying yes to becoming a vampire was you saying yes to being with him. So a few weeks after you had fully turned, he asked when you wanted to have your “wedding.” You were a little taken back, but as the question settled, you realized that his train of thought had actually made a lot of sense and you wanted to do something special to commemorate your relationship, so you guys agreed to have your ceremony the next day.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

I was Made for Lovin’ You – KISS

The second that Paul laid eyes on you he knew. He knew that the two of you were meant to be together. He could feel it in his vampire soul. Paul is totally convinced that the two of you were made for each other. Like he didn’t believe in fate or anything like before he met you, but once he knew you, he was sure there was some kind of divine power that brought you two together. He can’t get enough of you. Also, he sings this song to you constantly and is always saying, ‘it’s our song, babe.’

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Yes, of course. Because just saying that you’re going to spend eternity together is not enough. The two of you can’t get married in the traditional sense, going down to the courthouse and getting a marriage license, but you can have your own little ceremony. This ceremony just consists of Paul grabbing both of your hands in his and pressing his forehead to yours. He calls you wifey and kisses you hard on the lips. When he pulls away, he promises to always be yours and you do the same. Then the two of you go to a tattoo shop on the boardwalk, he gets your initial on his left ring finger and you get a P on yours.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Paul definitely wants a big dog, but he is so not allowed to have one. He would be terrible at taking care of one and no matter how much you try to convince David that you’ll help, he still says no. Paul is bummed about it, but he appreciates you being on his side and trying to help him get his wish.

#paul the lost boys #paul lost boys #paul tlb #paul lost boys x reader #lost boys imagine #tlb imagine #lost boys x reader #tlb x reader #fluff alphabet

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plantsjustwannahavefun · 6 months

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The connection between Izzy and Buttons in S2

Guys, I just realised something about the connection between Izzy and Buttons that could actually explain why Izzy had to die in a way that affirms the show's internal logic instead of actively contradicting it.

So, OFMD has always had a very... interesting relationship with reality. On the surface, it *is* based in reality, of course. As intentionally historically inaccurate as it is, it's still based in real life history. It's not fantasy. And yet, it's always lived in that weird liminal space between reality and fantasy. I would argue that a liberal use of huge intentional anachronisms such as singing a 20th century song in an 18th century show counts as a fantasy element. And death being treated as essentially nonexistent for characters who aren't villains, to the point where it deliberately makes fun of all real life biology and physics laws to make the characters practically unkillable so physical threats can safely be used for non-lethal drama or comedy, that's also a fantasy element. Even things like dream sequences and hallucinations (both ghosts and near death experiences) can also be said to blur the lines between reality and fantasy.

Still, in S1 all of those elements were still used in a way that had plausible deniability. Was it in any way realistic that a character could recreationally stab himself in the guts dozens of times and apparently it was totally safe and risk-free and resulted in nothing more than a scratch as long as you kept to the left side? Of course not. But it's possible to ignore it and let it slide if you try hard enough. It's still not a tangible proof of anything magical.

But what happens in S2? A man turns into a bird. Literally. This could easily have been left intentionally ambiguous, but it wasn't. It happened for real. Buttons got a book of transmogrification, found the right vessel, and bam. He's a seagull now. The first real, tangible act of magic in the book.

Narratively, the purpose of that moment was to make Ed believe that people are capable of change. Including himself. And it doesn't seem like there's anything more to it. But what does this actually mean for the internal logic of the show? It upsets the balance. A show that only had a certain level of subtle magical realism suddenly got a very tangible act of magic. What if OFMD world works just like any typical fantasy world? Meaning that there is such a thing as a certain balance that has to be maintained. So if Buttons got some "extra magic"... This meant that an equal amount of magic had to be taken away from somewhere else, in order to balance out the scales.

Now, who could be said to have an extraordinary amount of OFMD magic this season? None other than Izzy hands. The guy survived not one, not two, but THREE "fake death" experiences. He was now officially part of the unkillable Muppet cast. He even managed to utilise his new wooden leg - which, while adorable and maybe well made, is surely not very well ergonomically suited to replace a real leg - and regain his swordsmanship skills, and by episode 8 he barely had a limp anymore. And wasn't his performance just pure magic? Not just the massive anachronism but the way he had it in himself to sing a song like that in the first place, dressed in beautiful drag? The way he seemed to have such a massive amount of perfect character growth in such a short amount of time?

Well, this is what I'm saying: Izzy had to die as a consequence of Buttons becoming a bird. Izzy was the character whose OFMD magic got taken away to compensate. He lost the absurdist comedy style OFMD armour that he and every other character had this season. So of course he got killed by some stupid stray bullet that injured him offscreen, the way you'd see happen in real life, or in "serious" shows like Black Sails or Game of Thrones. And in his left side, to boot. Because the magic no longer applies. Of course getting shot in the left side of your stomach would be just about as lethal on average. And that's how we got that completely serious and dramatic deathbed scene too. Because that's what happens in real life or "realistic" TV shows. That's what happens when that little bit of subtle magic is lost.

#Izzy hands #ofmd buttons #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 1 year

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hoping this isn't a ~weird request but i would love to read your takedown/opinions of the failures of TRC as someone who was also reaaaally underwhelmed with how it handled an interesting setup/cast of characters and was left feeling very blah about the whole experience, and i'm having no luck poking thru your tumblr archives if it already exists :) no pressure ofc, enjoying your opinions on the new series regardless! (i personally deleted the ebook after struggling thru the first chapter oops!)

i was going to say "you have caught me on a day when i am crazy exhausted even after sleeping 12 hours so sure why not" but tbh i think that's giving myself too much credit re: my ability to resist this particular flavor of haterade, although it provides a nice justification. disclaimer that i haven't read anything from the original series since right after the raven king came out so i don't remember it super well. but like basically the problems with the raven cycle are two-fold: (1) the first three books are not very good (2) the raven king is the dumbest and most hateful piece of shit masquerading as a novel i have had the misfortune to encounter in my life. like you have to understand i went into this series having had it pitched to me but Dumb But Fun and for the first three books i was having a good time. i was often like "lol this is stupid" but i would say equally often i was like "aw my kids :')" in particular i remember that something clicked for me with BLLB where the books didn't get better but i suddenly like legit loved and cared about the characters and was invested in their relationships in a way where the flaws jumped out a lot less and i appreciated a lot of things stief had done and i made a pynch playlist and started drafting some fic and blah blah blah. and then the raven king came out and it was just, i can't emphasize enough, the worst book in the history of the printed word.

on point the first: the books are not great. stief comes up with some decent lines (funny similes, the occasional spurt of something pretty), and one of the things i will give her is that she can definitely set an Atmosphere (although this skill seems to have gone missing for CDTH) - monmouth manufacturing and fox way both feel like places that are just a bit too interesting to be real but in a nice way. overall though i find her prose weirdly stilted and artificial and tryhard. i think at some point i called her what taylor swift would be as a novelist, back when our most recent taylor albums were red & 1989, and i more or less stand by that - "losing him was like driving a new maserati down a dead-end street" feels like something stief could write, but instead of a 3-minute country-pop song, it's 350 pages of that. also i have genuinely never encountered an author worse at plotting. there's a weird and almost baffling shapelessness to the books that is truly like nothing else i've read in a bad way. like i said this a couple days ago but i felt like it gave me a new respect for every other bad to mediocre novel i had read in my life, because apparently those authors did all have some kind of basic skillset so fundamental i hadn't appreciated it until i read one who absolutely does not. and also the thing i have said before of, every book has a million chapters about the villain who has nothing to do with anything, and every single one of those chapters is boring as absolute fuck. the whelk chapters in TRB are sort of retroactively justified by the noah reveal, which on reflection i think remains the most successful thing she's pulled off, but the others are interminable and completely without reward for the reader.

even fans of the series seem to concede that plotting is not her strong suit, and the things people tend to like her for are (1) her writing, which... sure. i don't think it is good but you do you. and if i am forcing myself to be fair i will say that at the very least she does have a distinct voice and doesn't have that horrible flat YA Novelist Affect that has taken over what i sometimes feel insane swearing used to be a much more vibrant and stylistically diverse genre at least in terms of the things that made their way to my sphere of awareness. so. fine. and then (2) her characters. and like yeah the TRC crew is cute. they're fun. i liked that gansey was kind of insufferable and the books made no attempt to pretend otherwise. i did love classic scorpio depresso bean trauma freak ronan lynch, and i loved how as the series went on he was both a snarling anger machine and an idiot teenage boy with the most embarrassing crush in the world. i liked blue's ambition and her imperfect but passionate feminism. i loved adam parrish's teeth-gritted determination.

and i did absolutely fall for the pynch of it all. ronan lynch, who could have anything he wanted, desperate for the affection of the one guy who had no patience for his bullshit! adam parrish, who saw himself as so lowly, falling for this almost ethereal creature who dreamed beautiful things! the way ronan's main hobby was wallowing in self-pity but the person he was attracted to was the guy who refused to act like it wasn't time for ronan to grow the fuck up. the way adam had such a fraught relationship with anger, his own anger and that of other people, but he saw so keenly through to who ronan really was that while ronan's anger exasperated him, it never scared him or made him feel like he had any obligation but to be his honest self. the way hard-edged ronan dreamed adam lotion for his hands and labeled it in freaking LATIN, the way tense adam started finding a new respect for ronan without ever feeling a need to become more deferential or apologetic. i mean it was good shit. it was such good shit that i really and truly believed that while she was not the greatest writer in the world, stief must have built this particular dynamic between these two people on purpose. she must have deliberately planned for their slow-burning mutual attraction and deepening care to communicate these exact things about what their value was to each other - ronan giving adam space to dream, adam tugging ronan into reality - and while i was pretty sure the last book would be dumb, because all the books were dumb and she'd thrown a lot of balls into the air that she was not gonna catch, and especially because i had the sense she was going to want a neat happy ending which meant either gansey wasn't going to die (boring) or gansey was going to die but everyone was somehow going to be okay by the end anyway (stupid), i was also like, well at least pynch are gonna get together and it's going to be this really nice culmination of both their arcs.

hahahahahahahahahahahaha

the short version of why TRK made me feel so wild with rage was that it made extremely clear that everything i had enjoyed about the books up till that point had happened 10000% by accident. pynch is a good example of this. all that stuff i talked about above, all the push-pull dynamics of them, all the stuff that made them a good ship - it turned out that none of it mattered. none of it was relevant. none of it was even worth mentioning. because none of it, actually, was on purpose. adam and ronan get together by making out, which i respect. they do not have a conversation after that happens. not like, they hook up and don't took about it right away. i mean they don't have a post-makeout conversation IN THE ENTIRE BOOK. there is no moment where either of them says or even thinks, like - why this person. which is dumb for ronan because he has been so horny about adam, but hateful for adam because he is out of ronan's league unless we're being very clear about why this is a good fit! the stuff about ronan helping adam normalize his relationship to anger, lmao. nowhere to be found. instead we get gansey telling adam, "don't hurt him." repeat: we get gansey telling adam, who tries the hardest all the time of all people ever and who is half convinced he should be in jail for having feelings, to make sure he is nice to ronan, whose ENTIRE BRAND is "huge fucking asshole all the time for no reason." because ronan is "fragile." which like, sure. he's a half-orphan [at that point] with a fucked up life whose brain tried to kill him two years ago. but adam is an 18 year old paying all his own bills who moved out of his parents' house the day his dad DEAFENED HIM IN ONE EAR, and somehow this does not grant him any kind of special dispensation for care in the ganseyverse. and this is not ever in any way contradicted or challenged or complicated or even referred to later by the text. crime!

meanwhile, ronan... [pinches nose, sighs heavily]. again i said recently that the dream thieves should have told me her hand was not steady on the steering well. because what happens in the dream thieves is ronan meets someone who is like him but bad, and learns from him, and then figures out how to be himself but good. which is a fun sexy idea for a story, but the book fucks it up because ronan is too aware at all times of what a dirtbag kavinsky is and too untempted by his wild ways. there's no real fall, so there can't be a real rise. he fucks up his best friend's car, which he knows is also his best friend's number one most prized possession on earth, and the resolution to that is: hey dude my bad i killed your car but it's okay i dreamed you a copy of it. ???????? that's like parent who runs over your cat and says it's okay because they'll take you to the pet store tomorrow logic [realized in the middle of that i stole that image from sandman sorry]. i mean, in a vacuum, i guess it's not exactly. but like: ronan doesn't address the situation by learning anything about how not to be the kind of person who destroys something of great emotional value to someone he cares about. he addresses the situation by learning how to do his superpower good. this is not emotionally satisfying fantasy writing. it's hollow and stupid. and it's extra stupid because the book's attempt at an emotional resolution later down the line is that ronan needs to... hate himself less. which he can do by... realizing he doesn't hate himself. ??????? once again: empty. unbelievable. stupid. there's no connection there to, like, "now that i hate myself less, i can and should be less of a dick to everyone all the time," much less "one way of hating myself less might be to stop doing things that make me extremely unlikable." just: he hates himself less, he's no longer alone, he can dream whatever he wants, he's cool with his big gay crush now. weak. and like it was weak for me at the time, but reading BLLB i did think: well, the hand lotion. well, the trying to dream up a soul for the dream people. well, the big hug with blue at the end. ronan is growing and changing following his experience. it's kind of a shame we don't get his POV on any of this. but we'll probably catch up with him in the next book.

and again: no. i mean, we get ronan's POV, yeah. but none of it is reflective of someone like consciously trying to break the destructive and harmful (to self and others) habits he had forged in his grief. none of it conveys any awareness on the part of character or text that, like, deciding on purpose to be a decent human being matters. that maybe it's the kind of thing you should commit to before falling into a long distance relationship with someone who probably has PTSD from their abusive parents. that it can be hard, that it's rewarding. none of that. instead - i don't even fucking remember what. at one point he feels guilty about holding adam back and then he thinks, i'm not asking him to stay, just to come back, like ok that makes it so much better. you're just asking adam parrish, a steel whirlwind of ambition, to go to the ivy league college he has just about killed himself getting to because of how desperately he wants to escape the shithole town where he had his traumatic childhood, and then move back in four years' time. which again is not discussed. it's just taken for granted that ronan wants to stay at the barns forever. he tells declan he wants to drop out of high school [a choice being made by an eighteen year old two years after the traumatic experience of finding his dad's murdered corpse] and be a farmer and drive a tractor in circles on the property, which would be kind of funny given that his family farm is populated by dream creatures, except that like the book takes him weirdly seriously and also this is not intended as a metaphor. like his endgame in that series is that this traumatized teenager is living by himself on the barns fucking around and dreaming forever with like 3 friends all of whom are leaving town and zero ties to human reality or goals or desires of any kind and this is treated as a happy ending. even though by the way his mom got brutally murdered eight months before the stupid epilogue. but he's doing fine [stief hates women so bad]. [again it's SO funny that the first dreamer book opens with "ronan realized that his life was totally pathetic and depressing so he decided to move." like there was not this level of complexity present when you wrote the dumb epilogue!]

i keep forgetting about how ronan dreams into existence a weird little feral fawn creature/person and is bizarrely chill about it. also how his mom is his dad's dream and his little brother is his own dream and it's really explicit that his mom in particular does not have a personality of her own but just responds by giving whoever she's talking to whatever kind of person they want to interact with, which is the moooooost fuuuuuucked uuuup thiiiiiing eeeeeeverrrrrrrrrrr, and the books are just like. yeah this is normal and fine. [again sooo funny that in the dreamer trilogy declan is like "unbelievably fucked up that my little brother and mom are dreams." like yeah it is! where did you get that idea maggie. was it in the tumblr tags.]

what else. she ruined blue liking space, which didn't seem possible. blue doesn't like space and want big things because she's a smart spunky girl in nowheresville virginia feisty enough to dare to believe she can make her own life. no. it's because her dad is a tree person and trees like the sky because they grow upwards. whenever i tell people this i have to emphasize how much i'm not exaggerating or making it up. this is what it says in the text. she's like "oh that makes sense." ???????? i dwell on this one a lot because it's soooooo so so so stupid, but also because i think it really encapsulates the thing that makes TRK not just stupid but actively repellant to me, which is that you get the sense reading it that stief thinks it's better when things come from weird magic shit instead of from like real human characteristics and psychology. like for a series about friendship it winds up feeling to me weirdly and grossly misanthropic - none of these people are special or worth caring about because they are human people, it's all because of their magic Stuff. it's all because oh they actually WERE more special than everyone all along, not because of the choices they made but because they were born to it (why is ronan the only one who can take from the ley line without stealing? is it because of the kind of person he is? no. it's bc he's Special). ronan's dreaming, blue's treeness, and then gansey being actually all along a time-shifted resurrected friendship amalgamation creature who felt an instant kinship with his friends, again, not because he was a lonely teenage boy seeking out fellow weirdos to care about, but because they literally had met him before. adam, the only genuinely human character left by the end, meanwhile still is constantly asked by the text to apologize for his existence, not just in the "don't hurt him" scene but in the absolute nightmare section in the end where he goes back to his abusive parents' house for closure(????) and reflects primarily on how ugly and small his trailer was (?????????) and feels startled to discover an instinct in himself to help other adams who might be stuck like he once was, and then immediately conceptualizes this as something blue or gansey would think, which is so hateful i can't even process it. like adam at no point in this last book is acknowledged to have had a positive influence on anyone else even though he's better than the lot of them put together, but he has to kowtow to blue and gansey in his own brain for teaching him (a poor abused kid) that he might empathize with poor abused kids???? when to my sincere recollection NEITHER of them has ever like on the page demonstrated any kind of do-gooding impulse? their hobbies are myth-hunting and unskilled clothing manufacture? perfectly acceptable hobbies for a pair of teens but like? why does she hate poor people and victims of abuse so bad...

the big bad demon that is destroying the town is shaped like a wasp. gansey has a bee/wasp allergy and one time died from bees. these two things are never connected. henry cheng is upgraded to a main character because maggie heard you like diversity and now has a completely different personality than when he was an amiable preppy dbag who happened to be asian. now he has a mother in the mob and a tragic backstory about being kidnapped that taught him that you can't let fear rule your life and if you're scared you should be scared and then do it and be happy anyway, which is pretty good advice for things like an irrational fear of closed spaces that can't actually hurt you but really not applicable to someone who both does literally have a deadly allergy to bees and also has spent the past four years traipsing willy nilly all over the place not even bothering to keep his epipen with him. it turns out gansey's big moral lesson has nothing to do with for example his obsessive desire to control his friends but actually like ronan he just needs to love himself better and realize that his friends care about him after all. please notice again that ronan and gansey, rich boys acting out, need to love themselves more. this is dumb but if this was like the thesis of the whole series i would be like, that was stupid but whatever. but what of adam parrish, a poor abused kid who was abused so hard he is now a poor abused disabled kid? does he get self-love? no. he gets to realize that his rich friends have made him a better person, and be relieved that he's escaped from poverty because of how the aesthetics were bad. I MEAN IT'S SOOOOOO CRAZY AUGHHHHHHH

i forgot when i was talking about henry cheng the scene where blue and gansey go to the asian kids' house and are like "wow such diversity so culture," which is like a nightmare edward said had once. like they're just so excited to have discovered this exotic exciting new world and to learn about things like how henry cheng makes asian jokes because if he says all the bad things about himself first then other people won't say them. and i shit you not, the entire sequence is done in narration, with spoken lines appearing in italics in the middle of descriptive paragraphs, not rendered with dialogue as an actual scene, a technique she doesn't use anywhere else that i can recall and which really serves to just be like... here is this Mass of Asianness, as opposed to being normal about it and being like "here's some asian kids having a party." i haven't seen anyone comment on this technical feature but i think about it all the time because it makes me feel insane. it's one of the few things i've read in the past however many years where i read it and was like "i guess i was naive before about racism." like it's not that i didn't know but i was like, wow in 2016 you can still just transparently have your entire ability to conceptualize scene and narrative totally warped by an attempt to feature non-white people and no one will be like, hey we're all unlearning a lot of stuff but maybe let's rethink this before we go to print. there's a scene where ronan jokes about henry's mixed-raceness by saying "which half" which i do think is stief being unaware of the optics bc she's dumb but still comes across real bad and then there's also a scene where ronan does a "vaguely offensive" imitation of henry's voice which i truly have no fucking idea what the hell that is supposed to mean on a literal concrete basis other than making fun of an asian kid's accent. in both of these cases gansey and blue are disapproving and adam snickers and it's like, ok so pynch is racist now. cool. who asked for this, maggie. and also see above re: i really gaslit myself into thinking that one of the points of this series was that ronan learns to be a better person. my bad! (he sort of attempts at one point to make up with declan about how ronan has treated him so bad and also ronan was obviously his dad's favorite. but like his way of doing this is he gives him a toy he dreamed called a Orb. if i were declan i would throw his Orb back in his face. but like that's how broken the ethos of these books is. a heartwarming reunion between two brothers torn apart by the death of the father that they both equally lost hello declan is also a teenage orphan - and it's just. here's some garbage i got you. i didn't even spend money on it. it just happened.)

in addition to ronan's mom the lady bad guy also dies a horrible bloody death that feels a lot more gratuitously fucked up than any of the man deaths in the series. oh i forgot about how blue's mom is dating a hitman who killed ronan's dad and ronan just like doesn't care about this after the first five minutes at all. and neither does anyone else. and then he wanders offscreen... i forget why. we never get any intel on why blue is destined to kill her first love if they kiss or if that would have happened with anyone but gansey or if she and gansey can kiss after he's resurrected or what. like the prophecy that kicks off the series, and just: nada. gansey sells his beloved home to bribe aglionby into letting ronan graduate and the two of them never talk about this and the text never clarifies whether ronan bothered to graduate or not (and in CDTH it turns out he didn't). like another way this alleged series about friendship is weirdly misanthropic is i really was not convinced by the end of it that these people were friends. none of them are seen ever enjoying each other's company or thinking well of each other outside of the two romantic pairings and gansey going apeshit about how awesome henry cheng is. also gansey's whole big quest for meaning blah blah, like i don't super care that glendower is dead, i think you could write a good book with that moment working thematically even though it does fuck with your continuity because who the fuck were the three sleepers. what was with those birds. (there's a lot of mysterious/spooky shit that never gets addressed and like... again i think you could write a book where that works, i don't like to be prescriptive about this stuff, but again: play stupid games win stupid prizes. write a dumbass book that invests a lot of time in the importance of its magic and worldbuilding, and i will get annoyed when your magic and worldbuilding is dumb as fuck and/or totally pointless.) but it's like ok so then the idea should be that the whole point of gansey's glendower quest was actually an internal one, that the payoff of SIXTEEN HUNDRED PAGES of this is some kind of life lesson or emotional shift or whatever. and the payoff is that gansey realizes his friends love him (which again: but do they though? like do they really?), and that he and blue and henry take a gap year. that's the big exciting finale. a year off before gansey goes to college, with his true love and a guy he first hung out with eight months ago. HELLO? like who gives any kind of a shit about that. about any of this. what the fuck was all this for. this all happened so that two rich teenagers could like themselves better. are you fucking kidding me maggie? hateful!

anyway. i'm sure at the time there was more i was forgetting because this book was sooooo boring and every single thing that happened in it was stupid. i feel like this was very incoherent but in my defense these books are hard to critique coherently because they are, again, so stupid. CDTH from what i remember reading it through the first time and continue to pick up now like hangs together as a book better certainly than TRK did but my experience is such that every time she does something passably right i truly can only be like, wonder how she's gonna fuck this one up to kingdom come.

#askbox #the shmeamer shmilogy #the shmaven shmycle #i had a bunch of stuff under that tag at my old now deleted blog but not this one

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