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#(it would be totally reasonable to assume that he is an adult)

sxcret-garden · 2 months

Text

Haechan ღ Painted with You [M]

ღ NCT Dream Haechan x fem!reader ღ feat.: short mentions of Renjun & Jeno ღ words: ~15k ღ genre: college AU, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, slice of life, slow burn, pining, reader is a little dense, angst, humor, smut (switch!Haechan (but sub-leaning), oral (both receiving), hair pulling (idol receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some begging, fingering, handjob, edging, orgasm denial (idol receiving), dry humping) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, depiction of anxiety and reader feeling burnt out, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Desc.: You and Donghyuck were a couple back in high school, each having your own reasons for dating the other, but ultimately what you seeked out in each other was a distraction. Now that you meet again five years later, you both come to realize that the connection between you is still there, and eventually it’s crystal clear that the people you’ve become won’t be as easily separated as back then.

Author's note: aaaa I've had this in my drafts for sooo long avoiding to proofread it cause I wasn't happy with this at all... so now I finally came back to it to edit a bit and I think in the end it turned out quite okay^^ I hope you guys like it 🫶

There’s a hint of victory in the smile he gives you when you sit down next to him. Like he knew it would come to this - that you’d get bored of exchanging mundanities with the others and eventually find yourself drawn to him as your only escape. And it’s not like you didn’t know it too, it was clear from the moment you greeted each other with a hug that lasted shorter than it should have, and at the same time felt more familiar than you wanted it to. Yet his stance is inviting as he turns his whole body towards you in his seat, and the curiousity in his eyes is apparent.

“Long time no see,” he says, and it comes out softer than you would’ve expected it to. And he probably had the same thought, because he’s clearing his throat now, talking more firmly as he continues, “What have you been up to?” The last time you’ve seen each other was at your high school graduation ceremony, and since then it’s been almost five years. Which, as your former class president Renjun had decided, was about enough time to gather for a reunion.

“Well, you know. This and that,” you try to avoid an answer, but of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He knows you too well for that.

“Come on,” he snorts. “You can tell me. My time wasn’t spent in a purely productive manner either.”

“You probably spent about 3 years total on just playing video games…” you say with a grin playing on your lips, and you make him huff in disbelief, before his expression as well returns to a somewhat mischievous smile.

“Now that was just tactless,” he says, straightening his back now. “I quit uni to go to work, and then started again with a different major. So now I’m a freshman!” He gives you a peace sign with his hand, sounding a lot prouder about the fact than he should’ve been.

“Feeling like 19 again?” you joke.

“Yes! Everyone automatically assumes I’m their age,” he explains. “But then I tell them I’m older, so I can make them work for me!” An exaggeratedly mischievous laugh follows, and you can only shake your head at his shenanigans.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, turning away and facing the bartender working just a few seats away. Originally you were all going out for dinner and nothing more, but when some girls suggested paying a nearby bar a visit, nobody could refuse in the face of getting some booze into their veins. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s getting fucked over by life.

“One margarita,” you raise your hand and order, then you add, directed at Donghyuck, “Anything for you?”

“Just soju.” And so after placing both your orders, he adds, “Still can’t drink the adult drinks?”

“Excuse you, it has alcohol in it, so it is an adult drink. But if you’re asking if I still hate bitter stuff - yes I do.”

“I see… anyway, I’m not letting you get away without properly answering my question.”

“Too bad,” you respond. “Well…” And then you hesitate. You remember what it was like between the two of you in high school. When you were dating, each for your own reasons and certainly not because you had feelings for each other. But he still felt like a friend you could entrust your deepest feelings with - you knew each other like the back of your own hand. And yet, you find yourself hesitating in the face of five years passed by without a word from the other. It wasn’t like you had a fight or broke up on bad terms. It’s just that you both agreed it would be better not to see each other again, for reasons that seemed smart at the time. But now that you’re looking at the person he’s become and how much he seems to have grown up, you’re not sure anymore what those reasons even were.

“That bad?” Donghyuck interrupts your train of thought as he raises an eyebrow at you, and when you shake your head a short laugh escapes him.

“No, just… I’m also still in university,” you say. “I had to take a year off, so I’m trying to finish everything now. It’s not going great though.”

“Oh…” he looks away, directing his gaze at his hands that he’s hiding in the sleeves of his knitted sweater. “Are you managing though?” And that’s when you suddenly feel the past and the present connect - the way he immediately becomes serious when the situation calls for it, just like he has always done, makes you feel safe to keep speaking, and to keep your heart open, just for a bit.

“It’s… difficult,” you admit. The bartender sets down your ordered drinks, causing another pause, and you acknowledge it with a nod. “I’m trying not to do too much, but you know what’s it like living here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That fucked you over before, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You fall silent after that, but not for long. Your conversation partner is Donghyuck after all, he wouldn’t let an awkward silence get too long.

“I have changed… by the way.” You raise your eyebrows at him as he speaks those words, letting the sip of your cocktail slowly trickle down your throat.

“Have you?” you ask. “Well, I mean… you’ve grown up.”

“Oh?” Suddenly seeing him straightening his back as he’s overjoyed, you can’t but giggle at the way his face is graced with a beaming smile now, but he glosses it over with a cough and a sip of his soju.

“But you sure are still the same guy,” you add, a nostalgic smile on your lips.

“I guess,” he agrees, his features softening. Another pause falls upon you as you give your cocktail another taste, and this time it’s you who breaks the silence. Continuously chatting, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy from the sweet beverage after a while.

“I heard you got a girlfriend?” Donghyuck huffs, a wide smile meant to hide a bitter feeling appearing on his face.

“Yeah…”

“What about her?” you pry, sensing something off.

“Dumped me,” he simply says, then pointing across the room and at Jeno, one of your former classmates. “For that guy.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs it off, pouring himself another glass and offering the shot to you instead. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’d rather have my own drink, thanks.”

“Alright. Then cheers.” He downs the shot, grimacing at the taste, and when he sets the glass back down, he adds, “I don’t get why she went for him anyway. I bet it’s cause of all that muscle he got.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words, and you hit his upper arm playfully.

“You should hit the gym too and then see if you can get her back.”

“Very funny,” he replies dryly. “I’d rather die.”

“Understandable…” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as well. “So… you’re probably glad I finally came to you.” Donghyuck shoots you a questioning look and you explain yourself. “For a distraction. Like in the old days, you know?”

“Ahh…” He merely lets out a sound, before staring at his empty shot glass.

“You’re not doing that anymore?” you assume.

“I guess.”

“Yeah… me too,” you say. “Or like… I stopped using people for it.”

You were dating back then, that’s true, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call yourselves high school sweethearts. You were both going through some stuff - for him it was a breakup with his first love, for you it was just life itself. When you were both at your lowest you started talking properly, and it soon became clear that you both wanted nothing more than to escape. And so you formed an alliance - as you used to call it, to everyone else you simply said that you were a couple now. You did behave like a couple, but just for the rush. The first time you held his hand you felt nothing, but when you made out secretly in the backyard of your school instead of attending class, that’s when you were overwhelmed with excitement. It was a stupid idea, you know that now too, and it only worked for so long. You spent the summer of your junior year together, meeting up almost every day and talking, and eventually distracting yourselves by making out secretly in your or his room. And then your final year came, and as you started seeing yourselves forced to take life a bit more seriously, you gradually met up less, until you both agreed that breaking up would be the best decision, so that you could focus on your studies and try to get into a good university. At least for your part, you still have mixed feelings when you remember that day. Because you know you made the adult decision, but at the same time you always end up thinking back to what fooling around with him felt like when you have a bad day now, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it at least a bit. But you found other distractions - obsessing over tv series, finding just the perfect kind of music to drown out your feelings, and sometimes, whenever you could find a good excuse to drink with friends, alcohol. Though you’re being careful with the latter, just as you are now. One drink is usually enough to help you relax a bit and not pay all the things stressing you out so much thought.

“So when are we gonna start writing your redemption arc?” you ask nonchalantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Your ex.”

“Stop that, for real,” he says, and the way he remains serious tells you your joke wasn’t well received.

“Sorry,” you utter.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He’s playing with the glass in his hands, thumb rubbing along its edge as he keeps staring at it, and you take the last few sips of your drink, before you too start spinning the cocktail glass around between your fingers.

“Actually…” Donghyuck speaks up, now throwing you an entirely different look. “How about we get out of here. Maybe we could both use a distraction after all.”

“But-”

“Just for today.” You stare at him blankly, blinking once, twice, then a third time. This sounds like a bad idea, but at the same time you know you’re probably not gonna see each other for the next five years, just like it was for the past five. So what would be so bad about taking his offer now?

“Alright,” you say eventually, having made up your mind. “My place? It’s nearby.” His lips are parted slightly as he watches you jump out of your seat and put on your jacket. As the air around you changes, so does the look in his eyes, and a moment later he gets up too, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist while he holds the door open for you as he walks you out of the place.

“You really have changed,” you comment as you’re sneaking out, so none of the others would notice, and you giggle at your unnecessary secrecy once you’re past the entrance to the building.

“I can be a gentleman too!” he insists. “Of course a high school boy wouldn’t think of that.” You catch the pout that forms on his lips as he adds the last part, and you inevitably laugh, pointing at his face.

“But you’re also really still the same.”

You decide on going to your place, as it’s nearby, and you take a taxi there. Though you know this is only going to be a one time thing, neither of you seems to be in a rush. You take the elevator to the sixth floor, grinning at each other in silence the entire ride - maybe because this reminds the both of you a bit too much of the way you used to sneak off together all the time back in school. But once you arrive at your apartment, the atmosphere between you somehow changes, and as you’re walking over to your little kitchen to offer him a drink, he stops you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch is firm now, and he comes to a halt when he’s standing right in front of you, closer than a friend would, but leaving more distance between you than a lover would, and keeping his voice lowered, he asks,

“So… are we going to go right to the distraction part? Or do we need to pretend that we still need to warm up to each other first?” You find him staring at your lips, then returning his gaze to your eyes as he waits patiently for your response. And you don’t manage to come up with anything smart to say to him, so you simply take a step forward, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you kiss him. His lips feel soft, just like you remember them, melting against yours perfectly. Yet there’s a firmness to his kiss that feels new to you. He used to always kiss you with eagerness, too much of it at times, impatient to feel more of you and for you to take control. It was no secret between you two that he actually quite enjoyed being put into his place by you, and now that there’s no such intentions apparent behind the way he moves his lips against yours, you find yourself having your breath taken away by the time you part.

“You really did grow up well…” you mutter, barely an inch apart. “Did your ex teach you to kiss like that?”

“Watch your mouth, Y/N,” he mutters darkly, another side of him that’s not exactly new to you, but one that you haven’t seen a lot in the past. And then he simply brushes his lips against yours again, softly and with care, quite in contrast to his sharp words. “I don’t wanna ruin this with thoughts about people I don’t know anymore.”

“Right…” you whisper, and before you can add a mumbled apology, he presses his lips to yours again. In between short kisses that inevitably leave you longing for more, he steers you closer to the wall behind you, until he has you trapped against it. Your shoulders meet the cold surface gently, and as you’re slowly getting to know this different side of him, you feel yourself being swept off your feet like he never knew how to.

One of his hands resting on your waist, his fingertips creep towards your hip as you’re sharing an open mouthed kiss. A moan escapes you when he presses you up against the wall closer, and as he slowly parts from you, you can see the playful grin showing on his face now.

“You changed too,” he comments, and again he closes the distance between you without giving you a chance to question his words. Your hands finding their way up into his short hair, your fingers get tangled with the strands and you carefully tug at them as he deepens this kiss as well. He’s kissing you slowly as you let him have the lead naturally, and as you keep making out like this, you eventually find yourself burning up whole under his touch. He moves from your mouth to your neck eventually, and you lean your head back with a deep sigh as he begins scattering hot kisses all over the area. His hand that’s been propped up against the wall now finds the back of your nape to support you, and when he comes back up, he whispers a question,

“Do we keep going like we used to? Or do you wanna go all the way this time?” Drunk on his kisses, you pull him in for another one on the mouth, and as you part you mutter,

“We’re not kids anymore. Let’s go all the way.” You step aside and he lets you, and you reach for his hands to walk him over to your couch. Giving him a push, he lets himself fall back onto the sofa, leaning against the backrest as his curious gaze never leaves you. “Don’t need this anymore…” you mumble as you pull off your shirt and throw it somewhere onto the ground, and then you crawl into his lap to straddle him. His hands find purchase on your hips immediately as he looks up at you with warm eyes. You cup his face in your hands and you lean in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you lure a breathy moan out of him, and wanting to hear more, you keep kissing him like that. Feathery touches that would for sure make him want more eventually become overshadowed by you rolling his hips on top of him, and with each time he lets you hear his voice you become more eager. It’s almost as if you’ve become the one who can’t wait, and he’s the one acting with patience.

“Never knew you could turn me on this much,” he mutters as you pull back, moving your hips at a leisurely pace. You can undoubtedly feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s certainly not leaving you unaffected.

“I grew up too, Hyuck,” you say, and then you bury your face in his neck. You kiss a trail up to the spot right below his ear as he leans back, and his hands wander up your sides and to your back when you start nibbling on his skin.

“Mhm… you did, hm?” he answers. He finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, and as the piece of clothing slides down your arms, you sit back so he can take it off you and fling it to the ground as well, somewhere in the general direction of where your shirt should be. He holds onto your sides as he takes in the sight in front of him, and as he draws closer to connect his lips to the skin on your chest, you can hear him saying,

“I know I never told you this as a boy but you look beautiful. I really regret not saying that to you.” He kisses his way up from the valley of your breasts to your throat and then back to your mouth, and just before he can connect his lips to yours, you whisper,

“It’s fine. I might’ve actually fallen for you if you had done that.” You laugh, and he does too, but his grin has a different meaning to it than yours.

“Don’t say that. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” Connecting his lips to yours, he runs his tongue across them to ask for permission to enter, and without protest you let him deepen the kiss.

“Now you’re the one who said it,” you mumble a response in between kisses. “That’s a stupid thought anyway.”

“Right.” His fingertips dance south along your spine, and he eventually tugs at your pants as a sign that he wants those off as well. And so you peel yourself out of his hold, and while you’re discarding your jeans, he slips out of his shirt, and both clothing items land somewhere on the floor, soon to be forgotten. He makes you lie down flat on the couch as he crawls on top of you, and when he leaves a trail of small kisses up your torso, one of his hands finds its way to your hips, thumb hooking under the fabric of your panties.

“These too,” he says. “I want these off too.” You give him the okay to take them off as you comb your fingers through his hair once, and as soon as he’s gotten rid of the last piece of clothing on your body, he lowers himself to let his lips draw a map of your figure. Feeling his warm hands against your sides, you let out a sigh as you lean your head back and you close your eyes for a bit, just enjoying the way his kisses feel against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair again, and you find yourself massaging his scalp as he’s slowly going down on you. You let him lift your legs up onto his shoulders eventually, and when he buries his face between your legs, you can’t but let out a small moan. Tongue lapping at your folds, he hums at your taste, and then he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently.

“That feel good?” he asks, slurring his words a bit, and you nod, tugging at the strands of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah. Keep going…” And so he does, alternating between teasing you with his lips and the tip of his tongue, and when he retrieves one hand to slide his fingers inside you, he comments,

“So wet for me, hm?”

“Y-yeah…” You can unmistakably feel the knot in your stomach being tied tighter with every single touch of his, and when he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a frustratingly slow pace, you find yourself begging for more. “Faster… p-please…” Donghyuck simply hums at your plea, before he obliges, curling his fingers inside you just a little faster. Gradually picking up on speed, the way he flicks his tongue against your clit along with the waves of pleasure that run through your body with each time he hits that sweet spot inside you make you slowly lose your mind, and you let him know just how good he’s making you feel by moaning in tune with his movements.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you mewl as you look down on yourself to find him already gazing back up at you, observing all of your reactions closely through half-lidded eyes. Just a few more repetitions and he’s throwing you over the edge, making you clench around his fingers as you throw your head back with a moan. “Fuck…” you mutter after he pulls out of you carefully, and he crawls back up to kiss you on the lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you share a lazy kiss, and once you part, you place your palms on his chest to push him off you.

“Your turn,” you simply state as you sit up and you make some space so you can comfortably kneel in front of the sofa. Getting the message, he hurriedly rids himself of his pants and boxers, and when he sits down in front of you, you don’t waste another second to wrap your fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, he’s fully hard in no time, and he watches as he leans back, enjoying the attention.

“You really have no patience anymore, huh,” he mutters, and you lick your lips before returning his gaze.

“Want me to torture you a bit? Make you beg for it? I can do that too.”

“I can beg if you want me to,” he retorts, the confident expression not being wiped off his face so easily, and you decide to keep that piece of information in mind. Just in case. But for now you’re not planning on making him wait - he’s right, you’ve become impatient, and you’re dying to know what kind of sounds you might lure out of him with his dick in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, watching him part his lips slightly as he lets you hear a deep sigh and a praise directed at you. “That’s right…” he mutters, and when you take his tip into your mouth fully, he lets you hear a moan so sweet, you swear you could cum just from the sound of it. Slowly bobbing your head up and down and having your hand that’s wrapped around his base follow those same movements, you enjoy the way he keeps moaning at your ministrations, until eventually you hum in approval and he whines from the pleasure.

“Fuck…” A curse escapes him when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, and you find yourself amused at how easy it is to make a guy whine as soon as you have him in a position like this. You go painfully slow, but he takes all of your teasing, and just when you start feeling bad for him because of how desperate his moans are, you speed up, making sure to take him in as far as you can.

“Shit, Y/N…” he calls out to you. “Wait-”

“Hm?” You come up at his words, letting him slip out of your mouth.

“Wanna cum in your pussy…” The request makes you grin.

“So demanding…” you mutter, shooting him a challenging look.

“Please…” he tries to convince you, his pupils shaking as he’s awaiting your answer. But you’ve already made up your mind on how you’re going to proceed, and so you merely throw him a grin, before taking him back into your mouth. He throws his head back at you sucking him off at a faster pace now, probably in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and as more curses fall from his lips along with your name, you know he’s close. You hum at his desperation and at the way he’s twitching in your hand while he’s bucking his hips up into your touch, and the next time you’re sinking all the way down on him, he cums with a moan. You try to swallow everything as he releases into your mouth, and when you let go of him you lick your lips to get the rest of it too, all while he watches with a hazy mind. And then you crawl into his lap, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, and eventually you say,

“Why not both?” You grab his face in one hand, gaze falling to his lips, and before he can say anything you kiss him to cut off his train of thought. “We have so much time tonight…” you mutter against his lips in between kisses, and he merely lets out small moans at your words. “We can do all the things we want. But let’s move somewhere more comfortable first.” And so you hurriedly walk over to your bedroom, Donghyuck pushing you against the mattress as soon as you’re there, and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you again. His lips nipping at your collarbones, you throw your arms around him, until finally you switch positions again, and you end up sitting on top of him, sinking down on his hard cock and biting your lower lip from how good it feels to be filled up like this.

“Fuck…” Now it’s you who’s cursing, fingers intertwined with his as you’re pinning his hands down to keep yourself stable. You know he’s drinking up the sight in front of him as you start slowly riding him, and the way he looks at you only turns you on more.

“Shit, you look so pretty like this…” he mumbles, completely taken aback, and he sits up, freeing his hands to hold onto your sides instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking that now?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lets out a short laugh as he too realizes how ridiculous his question was.

“You’re right,” he mutters, leaning in. “Then I’ll just kiss you whenever I want.” A rush of heat courses through your body as he presses his lips against yours, and you roll your hips on top of him just a little faster.

“Please do,” you whisper, barely audible, before Donghyuck closes the distance between you again. You take your time making out, until both of you feel that you’re coming close again, and with one hand between your bodies, he starts rubbing your clit for you as you keep your pace.

“I’ll help you,” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off your face as you’re both completely drunk on the other’s touches.

“Mhm…” you moan, chasing your own high on top of him. You’re the first one who comes undone, digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck as your high shakes you.

“Don’t stop, Y/N…” His words sound desperate, and you do your best to keep moving despite feeling the overstimulation building up. He has both his hands on your back now, and you let out a moan when you feel him dragging his nails down to your hips. “Shit…!” Spitting out a curse, he releases inside you, and finally you come to a halt. You stay in your positions for a while, waiting until your heartbeats have returned to a normal pace in each other’s arms, before you both lie down side by side, out of breath and grinning at the other.

“Didn’t think you’d get that good without me…” he mutters a comment.

“Hey!” you shout playfully. “What was I supposed to do if you just disappear on me like that?”

“You didn’t contact me either,” he tries to defend himself, but you both know it was him who stopped replying to your messages, even though your conversations were already scarce after graduating. For now you decide to say nothing - your mind filled with bliss from what your night out ended up turning into, you wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Instead, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, scooting over closer to you and making you lie flat on your back, kissing a trail down your jawline and placing a hand on top of your stomach. “I wanna keep going,” he adds, more silently, as his fingers are already wandering south.

“Alright,” you mutter, your hand up in his hair again as he drags his fingers down your folds, dipping inside once and then coming back up to your clit to draw circles onto it. “If I walk weird tomorrow it’s your fault,” you add, laughing.

“You just made me wanna see that,” he jokes back, before pressing a kiss to the side of your throat and letting his fingers take care of you.

You keep in touch after that, texting each other throughout the day - even on those days where you barely find the time or energy to be social, you’ll at least send some memes back and forth - and meeting up whenever you both have some free time. It really feels like you’re continuing right where you had left off five years ago whenever you find yourselves unable to stop laughing because of your own bickering, or when you’re sitting side by side, having a more serious conversation and simply offering an open ear to the other. And at the same time something about the way you treat each other has undoubtedly changed. Of course you both grew up and you’re more mature than you were as high school students, but it seems there’s something else lingering in the air during every interaction you have, you just can’t really put your finger on what that is.

You also keep meeting up to have sex.

“So? What does that make us?” you ask a question into the dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. You’re both lying side by side on his bed, the sheets beneath you messed up as evidence of what you’ve been doing, and the chilly air in the room hitting your skin lets you cool down a bit.

“What? This?” Donghyuck asks, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Yeah,” you respond. “We’re not just friends if we’re constantly hooking up, are we?” Your words are accompanied by a chuckle, meant to tell him that you’re not being as serious as you sound. Or maybe you are, but mostly because your other friends keep asking where you’re sneaking off so frequently these days, and why you don’t seem to have the time to meet up with them anymore. And everytime you tell them you’re seeing a different friend, a part of you feels like you’re lying. Maybe that’s because they’ve stopped believing you too, and they keep urging you on to finally admit that you’re dating someone. But you’re not dating Donghyuck, right?

“Fuckbuddies?” He rolls onto his side, head supported by his hand, and he gives you a mischievous look.

“I guess,” you say, and after some consideration you add, “My friends keep asking who I’m meeting all the time. They think I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does it feel like when you kiss me?” You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, not expecting him to pose such a serious question.

“I mean… you’re a good kisser?” You grin at him, rolling onto your side as well so you could face him, and as you’re drawing near, he’s already reaching out to capture your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s all?”

“I think so.” He lets his lips brush against yours, puffy and reddened from making out earlier, and you feel warmth wrap around you. You also feel safe with him, but that’s not exclusively related to him kissing you, so you don’t feel the need to mention it.

“Then I can’t be your boyfriend,” he mutters when you part.

“So friends… with benefits then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, great,” you say, letting yourself fall onto your back, sinking into the mattress. “I can’t go around telling my friends that I’m seeing a fuckbuddy.” Your friend giggles beside you.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “If it’s easier to explain, you can just pretend you’re seeing a boyfriend. I don’t mind.”

“I wonder…” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “Then they’ll want to meet you, so… anyway.” You sit up, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m kinda hungry. You wanna order something?”

“I’ll make us some ramen. But we should shower first.” He sits up as well, and when you throw him a look over your shoulder, he cocks his head to the side, giving you another grin. “Together?” You laugh at his suggestion.

“You just want another round in there, don’t you? We’re never gonna get food in that case. I’m going alone.”

“Awww…” he whines in defeat and it makes you smile. You crawl closer to him, placing a peck onto his pouting lips.

“We kiss an awful lot for fuckbuddies, though,” you remark, and then you get up.

“I don’t think we’re kissing nearly enough…” he mumbles an answer. Amused by his words, you shoot him another glance, and then you trot off to the bathroom.

“You free Friday night?” You glance at your phone screen when it lights up to quickly read Donghyuck’s message that you just received, and as you let out a sigh, you return your focus to the notebook in front of you. Skimming through your handwritten notes from the lecture you visited every wednesday afternoon a year ago still gives you anxiety - you’re not sure what more you’re supposed to study than this and the materials displayed on your laptop screen, and yet you don’t feel nearly prepared enough. You’re in your last semester - or at least you’re planning for this to be the last one - and you finally forced yourself to register for the exam you keep postponing because you horribly failed it the first time. The worst part is that it’s an oral exam, so no turning back once you’ve answered (or not answered) a question, even if a better response comes to you later on during the exam. And you hate that, because you know your brain tends to black out in stressful situations, and panicking while you’re supposed to recite your knowledge on a complicated topic doesn’t exactly help with that. You tear your eyes away from the materials eventually, taking another sip of your coffee and then picking up your phone off the small round dinner table in your flat.

“Sorry, I don’t have time then ㅠㅠ” You press send, and it doesn’t take long for your friend to reply.

“On the weekend? I’m busy Saturday but Sunday is fine!!”

“I don’t think I can make time until Tuesday. Sorry. Difficult exam coming up…”

“Then you should take a break!! I’m sure you’ve been studying all day” He’s not wrong with his assumption, but still you can’t bring yourself to set aside a few hours to fool around with him. You wouldn’t be able to relax and truly get the exam off your mind anyway, so you refuse again, even if it hurts you.

It’s been like this for a while now. The last time you’ve seen Donghyuck’s face was almost three weeks ago - after that university and sending job applications have taken up all your free time, and the few hours you had in between to rest you simply spent alone in the comfort of your own apartment, feeling too exhausted to even consider making plans with someone else. You know it might do you good to get out more for other things than going to uni, but at the same time you know you simply don’t have the energy right now - or you would’ve already scheduled a meetup with friends. It sucks, and you’re hoping for some space to breathe in between your schedules sometime soon, but at the same time you know you will be busy with uni until your graduation, and from then on you’ll be busy getting accustomed to work and proving yourself there. And the more you think about it, the more it starts to dawn on you that things will likely not change in the near future, and that somehow the life of a freshman and that of a senior don’t really match well at all.

But you brush those thoughts off for now. The last thing you need right now is a distraction, and so you get back to revising the contents for the exam.

And then comes Sunday afternoon, and you can feel the panic coursing through your veins as if you were about to suffocate from it any second now. You’ve always had some kind of exam anxiety, but it’s never been this bad, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it except endure and hope that tomorrow will pass quickly. That’s when your phone buzzes to let you know you’ve gotten a message, and what you see when you open the chat room tips you over the edge.

“This would’ve been more fun if we had watched it together~” - along with a picture of a laptop screen showing the credits of a movie, the interior of Donghyuck’s flat showing in the background. Your hands are shaking as you read his message, your head spinning because suddenly the stress and a feeling of helplessness overwhelms you. You end up doing the first thing that comes to mind - you call him. He picks up after the first ring.

“Jealous?” he teases you, and you stay quiet, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. Hearing only your ragged breathing, he sounds serious when he continues talking after a few moments of silence. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s up? Wanna talk about it?”

“...the exam…”

“Ahh… you’re freaking out because of it?”

“Y-yeah…” Tears well up in your eyes, but you fight hard to keep them from falling. You know if you start crying now, chances are you won’t be able to talk properly in order to explain yourself to him. “I studied everything but I don’t feel like it’s enough… I have no idea how I’m supposed to pass tomorrow…” A sob escapes you at the end of it, and Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to answer,

“I’ll come over. Just wait for me and hold tight, I’ll be there in 30.”

And so that’s what he does. He doesn’t even give you the time to refuse when he hangs up, and sure enough roughly 30 minutes later he’s at your doorstep. Putting down his bags and taking off his shoes, the first thing he does is pull you into a tight hug.

“Come here,” whispered against the side of your head as he’s already holding you close, he hugs you until he can feel some of the tension leaving your body. When he finally lets you go, he picks up a paper bag he brought with him, holding it out to you and you take it from him. “I bought them on the way. I thought you could use some comfort food.” A glance inside the bag reveals a box decorated with the logo of your favourite bakery.

“Oh my god… thank you!” you exclaim, and you give him another hug as he lets out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s have these while we go over your materials together, okay?”

“Huh?” You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I came to help you study. So you can kick ass tomorrow!” Throwing a fist in the air in a victorious gesture, you cringe a bit at his childlike enthusiasm, but at the same time you feel thankful. Like you had been in free fall for the past days and finally someone came to catch you.

“Okay,” you accept his offer to help, and then you walk over to the small table in your living room where your laptop and your notes are scattered all over. Briefly organizing them, you skim through them together, and when you’ve reached the end of it, Donghyuck starts asking you random questions related to the topic that he can come up with. And with every question that you manage to answer, you feel just a little calmer, until you’ve gone through everything several times and it’s long dark outside.

“You’re gonna do well tomorrow,” the guy sitting next to you tells you, throwing his hand up in the air to do some stretching and you do the same, your body aching for a bit of movement after sitting down for hours.

“You think so?”

“Of course!” He seems almost offended at you doubting yourself now. “Look at all these things you memorized perfectly! You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re right…” you mutter. “I do feel more confident now.” Yet, you let your head hang.

“But…?” he asks.

“But… I know by the time the exam starts tomorrow I’ll be so nervous, I might forget everything…” He reaches for your hands, taking them into his and giving both of them a gentle squeeze as he looks intently at your face.

“Then you think about how well you just did and how long we just spent repeating everything you studied. With this much preparation, there’s no way you would fail.” You know that realistically speaking, that’s not necessarily true, but you decide to believe him for now. Putting trust into his words puts you at ease, so that’s what you’re going to do.

“Alright,” you say. “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” he says, laughing as if he had not a single doubt about it.

“But…”

“Another but?”

“It’s almost 2am,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Wanna stay over? It takes you ages to get home if you have to take the night buses, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi,” he replies, adding, “I don’t wanna stress you out more by staying over.”

“No, I-” All the times you felt yourself forced to turn down his invitations to meet up during the past few weeks are suddenly fresh in your memory, and eventually you manage to say, “I’d actually be thankful if you could stay over… you know… keep the bad thoughts away…”

“Sure…” he responds, and growing very quiet suddenly, he gets up to wrap you into another hug. “I’ll stay.”

You each take a shower and get ready for bed, him throwing on some of his clothes you had lying around at your place anyway, and when you get under the sheets together, it feels different than usually when you sleep in the same bed. Neither of you has any thoughts about having sex for a change, and instead he simply pulls you close to let you rest your head on top of his chest. You wrap an arm around his waist as you listen to his heartbeat, already feeling sleepiness overcome you as you snuggle up to him and you can feel him drawing mindless patterns onto your skin. You feel a sense of peace and safety washing over you when your eyelids simply fall shut, and as you fall asleep you almost don’t register the way he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

When you open the email telling you that you got a C on your exam, the first thing you can think of doing is letting Donghyuck know.

“I passed!!!” You send him a message, and he surely doesn’t let you wait too long for an answer, along with a little sticker of a bear wearing a gold medal and giving a thumbs up.

“I told you so!!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you write. “We need to go celebrate! Drinks on me.”

“Sounds good~”

With a broad smile on your face you put your phone into the pocket of your padded jacket. It has become cold outside, and there’s a thin layer of snow on the streets from last night. It’s the beginning of December, and before Christmas and new years you’re still going to be very busy. You have two job interviews coming up, have to prepare for your final exams and in between you should find some time to work on your dissertation. Still somehow you’re confident that you would easily be able to find a date where you can go out for your little celebration with your friend, but when you run into him on campus a week later, reality hits you right in the face.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out to you as he spots you among a bunch of other students, and you fall behind to briefly talk to him.

“Oh, hi,” you say, not having seen him at all.

“You still didn’t reply to my messages,” he remarks and you immediately pull out your phone, indeed finding that you’ve left him on read two days ago.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you remember that you clearly had the intent to respond to him, but then very obviously failed to do so. “Ah, if we can meet… today?”

“Yesterday,” he corrects you. “But I guess that didn’t happen…” You can unmistakably see the disappointment in his expression, even though he’s doing his utmost to hide it, and you furrow your brows at the sight in front of you.

“I’m sorry… I must’ve forgotten to reply while studying or something,” you say, unable to look him in the face. “You know, finals coming up.”

“Yeah… I’m studying a lot too these days,” he says, quickly adding, “But I guess as a senior it’s only natural that you’re even busier than I am.” His words sting for some reason, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Truth be told, you’ve been studying every free minute for the past few days, and in between you had a job interview that you don’t have the best of gut feelings about. You were so busy that you barely manage to have three meals a day, and yet you feel guilty about not being able to make time for him.

“I’m really sorry, Hyuck…” you say and he mutters an “it’s okay” as an answer. “But it’s not, is it?” To that he merely glances to the side, showing a sorry smile. And right then you have an idea. “You know what?” As you reach out to take his hand into yours, he raises his eyebrows at you, taken by surprise by your sudden action. “Let’s set a date right now. Then we don’t have to worry about me forgetting to reply or something.”

“But… that won’t change the fact that you’re super busy…” he reasons, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, I should be able to spare at least a few hours,” you say, opening your calendar app on your phone and scrolling through the days until exam week starts. “How about next Friday? Friday night sounds like a good time for a little study break and having a celebration instead.”

“S-sure.” You barely notice how he’s atypically dumbfounded at your enthusiasm, only focusing on the fact that you finally found a date to see each other again.

“Great! My place or yours?” you ask, already typing it into your phone.

“Mine… you wanna bring the drinks? Then I’ll take care of the food,” he offers, now taking his phone out as well, probably to put the meet up into his calendar as well.

“Sounds good,” you say in a rush. “Then I’ll see you Friday! Sorry, but… I really have to go now. I was gonna study some more at the library - you coming too?”

“Ah, no, I… have class in half an hour,” he explains briefly, and as you wave your goodbyes and you’re already running off, you fail to notice how his shoulders are suddenly slouched over and there’s a hint of disappointment in the way he looks at you as you’re walking away.

You sigh as you stare at the email you just received, and you immediately regret even checking your mailbox in the middle of studying in the first place. You got rejected for the last job you applied to - but at least you should be thankful that they let you know about it in the first place, right? After all, the last two companies didn’t even do that much after your interview with them. You gulp, trying to swallow all the disappointment bubbling up inside and attempting to shove it back down to where it came from, and then eventually you cross your arms on the table, resting your head on top and you close your eyes for a while. Another sigh escapes you, and you feel the weight of your responsibilities lay heavily on your shoulders. You’re trying not to beat yourself up over not having found a job for after your graduation yet - you know that everyone’s struggling with finding employment these days. But you really don’t want to take on a job you’re overqualified for, or one that’s not in your field of studies at all. You’ve already made too many compromises because of this, like being willing to move to another city for your job, or expanding on what type of positions you’re applying to. And still, nothing. It’s starting to get to you, even though you hate that it is, and even though you had told yourself to focus on your exams and your dissertation first and foremost. But all of these things stacked on top of each other have led you to lose your spark a bit, and there’s no denying you’re starting to feel burnt out.

You tell yourself it’s fine, it will pass and eventually your life will get less stressful again. But for now you can feel that you’re at your limit, and you could really use some comfort.

“Right,” you mutter to yourself, lifting your head and looking at the date displayed in the bottom corner of your laptop screen. “Only a few hours to go. Then I can see him.” It’s Friday afternoon, and so you take a deep breath and bring yourself to study some more, before you can finally go to Donghyuck’s place, spending a full evening not having to think about any of this. Burying your head in your books and your lecture notes, you end up not realizing how fast the time is passing, and next time you check the clock, it’s already past 7.

“Oh god…” you quickly pick up your phone, seeing that your friend already sent you a message asking where you are. You were scheduled to be at his place at 7, but somehow you completely lost track of time.

“I’m so sory I didn’t realize hwo late is is. Ill hurry!!” You type up that message as quickly as possible, ignoring the typos as you send it, and then you jump out of your seat to get ready.

It’s almost 8pm when he opens the door for you and you apologize first thing as you hand him the tote bag with the alcohol you had promised to bring.

“Ah, but you thought of the important stuff,” he says with a forced smile, trying to brighten the mood a bit before he invites you in and you kick off your shoes and take off your coat to follow him inside.

“I’m really really sorry,” you say once again when you’ve made yourself comfortable on his couch. “I was studying and suddenly it was already this late…”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says as he carries over two glasses from the kitchen, handing you one of them. “We’re both busy, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

“But you’re upset.”

“A little,” he admits without looking you in the eyes, and when he continues talking, he does his best to sound cheerful. “But let’s not let that ruin the entire evening. We were both looking forward to today, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You won’t believe how glad I am to finally be here,” you add, and you feel the way your body relaxes just by being near him. You earn yourself a bright smile for that comment, before he lifts up the glass in his hand.

“I found the recipe for this a few days ago and wanted to try it,” he says. “I thought it’s your style.” You find a few ice cubes swimming in the beverage he handed you, along with a slice of lemon. The color is a dark shade of yellow at the bottom, and completely transparent at the top, and you nod at the presentation.

“It looks good,” you say. “I’ll try it. Cheers!” Each taking a sip, you agree that you like the taste, and the guy sitting next to you on his sofa explains,

“The recipe says you should put a bit of mint in as well, but… I didn’t have any.”

“I think it’s good the way it is… but, I’m starving. Let’s order food?”

“Me too,” he answers, getting out his phone.

You order takeout, and while you eat and drink, you watch a movie that you’ve both been wanting to see for some time. You end up chatting here and there during less interesting scenes, and even though you enjoy the movie overall, you enjoy talking to him more. Eventually, as your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets you, and you don’t think anything of the peaceful smile he gives you upon feeling you so close to him. He puts one of his hands on top of your thigh, mindlessly rubbing his palm up and down, and by the end of the movie you can’t deny anymore that his actions are affecting you. Credits still rolling, you turn your head to face him, and wordlessly you kiss him, his lips melting against yours. You part for a mere second in which you put your hand behind his neck, and as you let yourself fall against the backrest of his sofa, he hovers above you, distance closing again.

“Hyuck…” you breathe his name when you part the next time. “Need you…”

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he mutters into a sweet kiss, and then he gets up, taking you by your hands to pull you up along with him. As soon as you step into the bedroom you pull him in for another kiss, and you stumble backwards as he steers you towards his bed. He barely lets you lie down when he’s already on top of you, kissing you more deeply. Tongue running across your lip to ask for permission to enter, you allow it without hesitation, and you moan at the way he kisses you slowly but passionately.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says after parting, “just lean back, okay?”

“Okay…” you answer and he lets his fingertips wander down your clothed body. Undoing the button of your jeans, he unhurriedly slips his hand inside them, and he watches you intently as his fingertips brush against your soaked panties, his voice sultry as he teases you, “So wet already… I didn’t know you were that desperate for me…” Before letting you answer, he leans in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, starting to rub up and down between your folds slowly.

“I thought I’d go crazy without this…” you confess, arms wrapped around him and one hand up in his hair. You play with his locks as he teases you, and you whine, “More, please… don’t make me wait even longer…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, and then he buries his face in your neck, leaving kisses there as you throw your head back.

“Anything… even if it’s just your fingers, please just get me off…” you beg, only now realizing just how desperate you really are. Donghyuck gulps at your words, and he kisses his way up to your jaw and along it, until his lips are hovering right above yours.

“Tell me how badly you need me…” he mutters, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside so he could touch you directly. “I wanna hear everything.” As he starts rubbing small circles on your clit his lips go back to tending to your neck, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin and making it that much more difficult for you to form coherent sentences. Still you can’t but do as told.

“So bad… need you so bad,” you mewl. “I tried to get off so many times, but nothing feels as good as when you touch me…” He hums at your words, granting you a finger dipping inside your pussy for just a moment in return and gasping at just how wet you are.

“I’ll make up for it,” he says. “I’ll make you cum so good.” You whimper, and then you instinctively buck your hips as his finger ghosts above your entrance. You hear him curse through gritted teeth at how needy you’re becoming, and blood rushes to your head from the thought alone that your state could turn him on so much as well.

“Please… just give me your fingers…” you whine, and to your surprise Donghyuck doesn’t drag out his teasing for longer. And so you cry out when he pushes inside, pumping in and out of you while watching your every reaction to his touch. “Fuck…” you hiss, already seeing your high approaching from far away. “I’m not gonna last long…”

“It’s okay,” he coos over you. “Wanna feel you cum around my fingers… can you take another one?”

“Y-yes… yes please…” you say mindlessly, only being able to think about how you want to feel him more. The stretch is bearable when he pushes into you with three fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves, fingering you skillfully, you think you’re about to lose your mind. “Fuck… yes… don’t stop, please…” you mewl as he slowly picks up speed until he can see the bliss on your facial features. At this point all you can do is moan his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you cling to him, bucking your hips in chase of your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he marvels at the sight in front of him, and next thing you know your whole body is shaken by the force of your high. You whine as he fucks you through it, right until your last aftershocks, and then you simply close your eyes as you lay back on his bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past weeks taking over you. Licking his fingers clean after pulling out of you, he then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asks, his words sounding maybe even sweeter than usual to your ears, and you blame it on the way your mind is still in a haze from your orgasm. You think about it for a short while, and in the end you simply snuggle up to him closely.

“Let’s just… stay like this for a while,” you answer. “If that’s okay with you… I think I just need to be close to you.”

“Sure…” Donghyuck mutters, a bit taken aback by your response that must’ve come very unexpectedly to him. However, he doesn’t hesitate to put an arm around your frame, making you feel safe in a warm embrace. “That good?” he asks, and when you nod he presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a while.

You don’t move, not knowing how much time is passing while you’re merely listening to the other’s breathing and enjoying each other’s warmth. At that moment, you wish you could stay like this forever, but as you close your eyes and begin to relax, all your thoughts from the past weeks about your situation with him catch up to you one by one. Deep inside you know it can’t stay like this. And the longer you’re dragging this out, the more clearly you can see just how unfair this is on him. And so eventually, you don’t see any other plausible course of action to take next than to start talking.

“Thank you… for being by my side,” you mutter. Your hand having found its way into his, you’re playing with his fingers, eyes focused on that. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you lately… really.”

“Of course!” he responds, moving back a bit to get a proper look at your face. “You know I’d do anything for you.” You chuckle at his exaggerated words, letting go of his hand and ruffling his hair instead.

“I’m glad to have met you again,” you continue. “But… I’ve been thinking, you know? And I don’t think we can go on like this.”

“What…?”

“Just… I’m only gonna get busier, you know…?” The exact moment that he sits up, his comforting touch being torn away from you as he stares at you with disbelief on his face, you inevitably begin to feel like you fucked up. But you started this now, and there’s no way you could dig yourself back out of this mess, so you decide it’d be for the best to just see it through and be honest with him. “You know that I could never pay you back all that you’ve done for me… Hyuck.” You call out his name, but he barely even reacts with nothing but a blank expression in his eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen him this pale. “I’m gonna graduate, Hyuck. You’ll still be a student when I start working. Hell, I might have to move somewhere completely different if I don’t find a job in this city soon. And once I do find employment, I’m gonna have to work my ass off to prove my worth. I won’t have time to fool around like this anymore…”

“Fool… around…?” he repeats, speaking slowly, as his expression suddenly reflects a hundred complicated feelings. “Fool around… was all this is to you?”

“I mean… we’re friends too, obviously-”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off, and the way he says your name stabs you like a knife. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t just…” A bitter laugh escapes him. “You’re going to tell me that it’s better if we didn’t see each other anymore, aren’t you?”

“No!” you immediately refute. “I mean-... look, we can stay friends, but I don’t know how much we’ll actually be able to see each other-”

“Friends?” he repeats in utter disbelief. “You don’t realize it, do you?”

“Realize what-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I love you.”

“What…?” That is all you manage to reply to his confession. You really did never notice it, and so this comes as a shock to you. You realize that maybe him saying he’d do anything for you wasn’t an exaggeration at all, but you didn’t think he’d keep this fuckbuddy thing up if he had feelings for you all along. As if he had read your mind, he says,

“I’m sorry… I-... I didn’t want to tell you like this…” he speaks, his head hanging low now. “Not when I know you have a thousand other things to worry about, but… I just couldn’t… you said all these hurtful things. I don’t think you know how much hearing all that just now hurts.”

“I-,” you begin, but you don’t know what to say. You stare at him in utter disbelief for a moment, and then all of a sudden, from one second to the other, you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you don’t get out of here as fast as possible. “I… I can’t do this right now.” You get up off the bed and zip up your jeans. Your head is in chaos and your emotions are all jumbled up, but the one thing you can clearly feel is the anger burning in your veins. You truly are upset that he dropped such a bomb on you just before exams start and you need a clear head more than anything. “I’m going home… sorry,” you mutter under your breath, and without another look back at the guy who can’t do anything but watch as you’re slipping out of his grasp once again, you walk out of the door.

“Good luck for your exams” You let out a sigh as you finally delete the notification of the message Donghyuck sent you four days ago as you’re on your way to uni for your last exam. It’s Friday noon and you can’t wait for all of this to be over, the beginning of winter break feeling like you’re finally about to reach the safe shore after you’ve been almost drowning for weeks.

You didn’t talk to Donghyuck for the entirety of the week - of course, or you would’ve long answered his message that he sent you on Monday. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, you didn’t even dare open the chatroom. Instead, you had focused on the necessities to get you through this week: sleep, eat, revise everything you studied, be on time for your exams, rinse and repeat. And now that it’s already the last day of this nightmare, you can’t wait to simply crash into bed once you arrive home tonight.

It’s true that you’ve been feeling the relief after every single exam you finished, like some of the weight was taken off your shoulder with each time you walk out of a lecture hall. And yet you still feel the tiredness in your bones, but there’s something else tugging at your limbs and trying to make you stop running from one task to the other. However, you don’t let it. Too big is the fear of what you might find if you do stop and have a look, so you force all thoughts out of your mind that have nothing to do with your exams. And today as well your mind is empty when you take your seat and you’re handed the paper you’re supposed to fill out during the next one and a half hours, trusting your memory and your ability to recall the correct answers you have studied to each question.

As you’re leaving the lecture hall, finally done with the last one of your exams, somebody calls out to you. You turn your head to find one of your friends catching up with you, greeting you with a lively expression on her face.

“We’re finally done,” she says. “Now we only need to wait for our final paper to be graded and then we’re free!”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound cheerful but inevitably failing. You’re just tired at this point, and no matter how relieved you are that exams are over, you can’t bring yourself to be happy.

“What’s with you?” your friend asks, concern in her voice. “Do you have to redo one of your exams?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assure her, but she doesn’t buy it.

“There’s something up with you. Did studying take that much out of you?”

“I guess,” you reply as you walk down the hallway with her, but then you hesitate. “Actually… nevermind.”

“Hm? Y/N, what is it? You’re being really weird.” She steps in front of you, making you halt on the spot, but eventually she keeps walking. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...it’s about a friend,” you admit finally.

“A friend?” she repeats. “Did something happen to them?”

“No, just… we just haven’t seen each other much lately, and… yeah.” You lower your head and she steps closer.

“That must be a very good friend if you miss them so much,” she states, matter of factly, and that’s when you feel a stab right to your heart, putting you in physical pain.

“Right…” you mutter. Without you realizing, Donghyuck’s presence has painted your ordinary days in a color of hope, wrapping you in a feeling of safety whenever you’re with him and making you become way too comfortable around him. And now that it’s come this far, you don’t know how you’re supposed to scratch off all that paint anymore. The thought alone makes you feel sick to the stomach - you shouldn’t have been such an idiot. You knew where this would lead, and that you wouldn’t have the time to fool around with him anymore once you’ve graduated. A feeling of deep regret overcomes you.

You shouldn’t have said yes when he suggested leaving your class reunion together.

When you get home that day, you finally let yourself feel the full consequences of the past weeks filled with stress and you crash into your bed immediately. You haven’t planned to go to sleep this early, but at some point you simply find yourself drifting off, and the next time you open your eyes it’s Saturday morning.

Your body aches as you force yourself to get out of bed, and when you open the curtains and the sunlight blinds your eyes, you curse existence itself. You trod over to the bathroom, wash your face, and after finding yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror, you return to your little kitchen to get yourself a simple breakfast. Finishing it while scrolling through social media on your phone, you then get yourself back to your bed, plummeting down on it and grabbing one of the books stacked atop your bedside table that you never found the time to finish while uni has kept you occupied. You open it on the page you had left off weeks ago, and after fighting your way through roughly two and a half paragraphs, you give up and you put the book back to where it’s been resting untouched until now. Your mind just won’t let you focus on this now, so you pick your heavy body up off the comfortable sheets and decide to take a shower first of all.

Things continue like this for the next few days. Even though exams are finally over, you just can’t find it in you to rest properly. Neither going out to have fun nor staying at home and having some quality alone time sound appealing to you, and soon enough you figure out why. No matter what you do or where you are, there’s this constant pain in your chest dragging you down, because time and time again you find yourself impulsively wanting to tell Donghyuck about your day, or even just sending him a funny meme you found on instagram. But you can’t. In a way this reminds you of five years ago, when you started spending less and less time together in high school and then eventually broke up with each other. You recall finding yourself in situations like this back when you started college as well, wanting to tell him about something fun or exciting that happened but feeling unable to, because it’s already been months since you had last talked. However, there’s one significant difference between then and now.

Then, you merely found it a shame that you couldn’t freely text him or talk to him anymore. But you had moved on, finding new friends to talk to about those same things. Now, it’s like someone had torn a chunk of yourself out of your chest, and you’re slowly bleeding out as your nervous system prevents you from doing anything at all, signaling you that there must be a more urgent matter to take care of first. And only once you come to understand that this matter has to do with nothing other than Donghyuck himself, that’s when something finally connects in your mind. Your days have been painted with his colors, but maybe you’re not supposed to get rid of all that paint. Maybe you’re simply supposed to embrace it, because after all those years he’s become someone who’s just right for you. And maybe he’s become someone you can even come to love.

No, he’s already someone you love, you just never realized it.

Without thinking, you open your chatroom with Donghyuck, his last message still unanswered, and you start typing.

“I need to see you.”

“Now.”

You stand on his doorstep, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck had texted you back eventually, offering to meet at his place, so that’s where you are now, nervous to ring the doorbell. It was you who suddenly decided to come see him, so why are you so hesitant?

Another deep breath, exhaled shakily, and you reach out to press the bell button. Maybe 10 seconds later, the door opens, and when Donghyuck mutters a greeting with a distant expression in his eyes, it’s like a slap to your face.

“Come in, I guess,” he says as he’s already turning around, and you do as told. Taking your shoes off, you follow him a few steps inside, and shooting you a cold look, he asks, “What do you need to talk about?”

You’ve never seen him like this. Even when you broke up at the end of high school there wasn’t such a dark expression on his face. At that moment you have no idea how to shake off the guilt anymore, and so all you can do is let the words burst out of you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for doing this to you.” He watches you with a look over his shoulder and you let your head hang, hoping he isn’t aware of the way tears are welling up in your eyes. “I can’t imagine how much I must’ve hurt you.” You add those words through gritted teeth, afraid of a sob suddenly making its way past your lips if you’re not careful.

“Then why are you the one crying?” he asks, staying surprisingly calm.

“B-because…” You gulp, and figuring that it’s too late anyway, you lift your chin to look at him and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. And I don’t want to see the person I love suffer.”

“Y/N…” he breathes your name before turning around fully to face you. He steps closer, but still keeps a good distance between you two. “You rejected me only a few days ago…”

“I know.” Your words are merely a whisper now. “Because I was scared… the future seems so overwhelming that I kept thinking I don’t have space for something like this. But… that doesn’t mean… that I didn’t still fall in love with you.” Silence follows, the only sound disrupting it being the soft sigh Donghyuck lets out before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Can I… hold you?” You nod at his question and you let him come closer, until you find yourself safely wrapped into his embrace, his warm breath tickling your neck as he buries his face there.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted… you must really hate me now…” you mutter, and you’re almost startled when your friend lets out a laugh as he’s holding you.

“Yes, because I always go around hugging my enemies like this,” he says with a tired yet cheeky grin on his lips, and seeing that expression on his face suddenly washes all your worries away.

“Right…”

“It’s okay, Y/N… I know you had a rough time. I shouldn’t have confessed to you so suddenly either,” he apologizes, but you immediately shake your head, vigorously.

“No, don’t say sorry! I… I kind of get it… that it had to get out,” you say. “Especially after I said all those hurtful things to you.” He brings one hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the skin there and as his eyes scan your facial features you can unmistakably see how much he adores you. It makes your heart soar, and you part your lips as your gaze falls to his mouth.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you. “Does that mean… I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?”

“Sure…” you mumble, the urge to feel his lips on yours clouding your mind. “And when I’m your girlfriend… can you kiss me then?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, and he takes a tiny step away from you so he could take your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” You can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto your face as you listen to his question, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you answer. “Let me be your girlfriend.” And then he kisses you, slowly and carefully, and this time you aren’t confused on what those feelings he’s pouring into this kiss are. This time you know that it’s all the love he has for you, and you let it wrap you into a veil of warmth and comfort, feeling safe with him.

“I love you,” you mutter in between kisses, and eventually your hands find their way up into his hair. You kiss him back as you comb through it, and when you hear him whisper those same words back at you in between kisses, you once again can’t control the smile on your lips. You part to look at each other, finding an unmistakable desire for more behind his gaze, and so you begin moving as you connect your lips to his again.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter in between kisses, as you're steering him towards the bedroom, and he lets out a sigh against your lips in response. "I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Donghyuck mutters with his hands on your waist, and you reach the bed, positioning yourselves so you could have him sit with one swift push against his chest. Crawling on top of him as he merely looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted while he awaits your next kiss, he's already completely drunk on you.

"Then see it as me taking care of you?" you whisper, reconnecting your lips to his. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and him having his hands securely placed on your sides for stability, you merely keep kissing like that. Unhurriedly, because now you both know there's nothing rushing you anymore, nothing that would tear you apart.

"I love you." He mutters those words as you part, and when you open your eyes you can see him already nervously peeking up at you. You can't help but smile endearingly, cupping his cheek with one hand before you lean in for another sweet kiss to his reddened lips.

"I love you too, Hyuck," you say just when you pull back, and you let your fingertips wander down his upper body. Watching his face closely for his reactions, you pull his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor, and then you add, "Lie down for me, baby. I'll make you feel good." It comes as a surprise even to you to see him obey so quickly, and you let your palm glide down the bare skin on his chest and abdomen as he lies back. And then, when you reach for his wrists to pin them against the bed right next to his head, you can see a slight but still apparent blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you make me go crazy," you mutter as you press another kiss to his puffy lips, and when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip he moans into your mouth, the act alone sending heatwaves through your body. You instinctively roll your hips on top of his, earning yourself another small mewl from him, and then you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to his throat. He leans his head back to give you better access, brows furrowed as he sighs in contentment. Forming his hands into fists, he digs his nails into his palms and whines some more as you continue grinding down on him, and the way you feel him grow underneath you turns you on as well. And then eventually you let go of his wrists to work your way down, peppering kisses all over his chest as he immediately throws his arms around your body, holding onto you tightly.

"Hyuck..." you call out his name as you sit up briefly, and then you continue trailing nips and kisses down his body. "Let me hear you." He curses as your hand ghosts above his core, watching you with an expectant gaze in his eyes. You pull down the sweatpants he's wearing, and then his underwear, both just enough so his hard length is exposed. You wrap your fingers around him, and you kneel above him now, one of his thighs positioned between your legs, so you could get a good look at his face as you start to slowly jerk him off.

"Look at me," you demand, and he does, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Faster..." he mutters, barely audible, and you teasingly ask him to repeat himself. "Faster, please..." he begs through gritted teeth, and when you tighten your grip on his shaft just a little bit, he responds with a moan. "Can't take it..."

"Are you gonna let me hear more of those pretty moans?" you question, lips quivering in anticipation.

"Y-yes..." You don't know if your mind is tricking you or if his blush is growing just a bit darker as he answers, but either way you begin to move your hand faster, having him whining underneath you as he throws his head back. You watch with your lips slightly parted, and it's not like you've never seen him like this before, but there's just something about the way he gives himself up to pleasure when you have him in this kind of position that always gets you going. You move your hips in tune with the speed at which you get him off, grinding your clothed core down on his thigh, and he pushes his leg up just a bit to give you more friction.

"Shit..." you hiss, pleasure clouding your mind, and Donghyuck reaches down to wrap his fingers around your hand, guiding you into a faster pace. You collect the precum leaking his tip and use it as lube to glide down his length more smoothly, and as you can see on his face that he's about to lose himself to the sensation, you mutter a warning, "Don't cum yet."

"But-" he whines, and you take your hand away just before he can reach his high. "Y/N..." he desperately whines your name and you lean in to press a soothing kiss somewhere onto his chest, and then another one against his cheek.

"I wanna have you cumming inside me," you whisper, and when you sit back up you quickly rid yourself of all your clothes, in the end helping him out of his pants as well. You crawl on top of him, your hands placed on his shoulders for support, and you let out a curse as you roll your hips against him, his tip rubbing against your folds. And once again he whines, pressing his eyes tightly shut and digging his nails into your hips.

"Just fuck me already..." he breathes, but you have other plans.

"Be good and I will, baby," you coo as you repeat your motion without letting him slip inside you. He begins to squirm underneath you, visibly fighting to suppress his orgasm, and you swear you could cum from the sight alone. "Fuck... you're so fucking hot like that, Hyuck..." you mutter through gritted teeth, his repeated whines sounding like music to your ears.

"C-can't... hold back..." And once again you stop the stimulation just as he's about to cum, and with a frustrated groan he throws his head back into the mattress, dragging his nails down your skin. You reach for his hands, and as you intertwine your fingers you pin them above his head, and you can't but coo over the desperate look he gives you, and the way his cheeks are reddening again.

"You gonna cum right when I take you in, aren't you?" you ask, smirking at him after pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So desperate for my pussy..." And he can't do anything but whine at your words, because you both know you're right, and him denying it would just make him look stupid. "Then cum for me, baby," you mutter against his lips as you seal them with yours, running your tongue along his mouth to deepen the kiss. You sink down on him, taking in his size with ease, and the second you start rolling your hips he releases inside you as he moans into your mouth. Heat rushes through your veins when you part and you sit up, letting go of his wrists and combing the fingers of one hand through his disheveled hair instead.

"Didn't think you really would cum the instant you're inside me," you mock him, earning yourself another whine from him. "And I bet you're also gonna be hard again in no time if I keep this up," you mumble, rolling your hips on top of him slowly. "Such a sucker for when I'm in control, huh?"

"Yeah..." he breathes out, and you unexpectedly feel your heart swell at his answer. Usually he'd be fighting back by now, trying to battle you for dominance or at least being bratty, but today you really just have him at your mercy unconditionally.

"Is it because I finally said that I love you?" you conclude, as if he had heard your thought process.

"Huh?" You run your fingers through his hair again, and then you lean in for another deep kiss.

"Do you like it that much when I play with you like this, or are you being good because you're scared I'll leave if you're not perfect for me?" Donghyuck stares at you for a while as you sit back up, the blush on his cheeks fading, and when he finally reaches out to you to press your body against his for a tight embrace, he answers,

"No, I trust you. And I kinda like it when you sometimes use me." A storm of emotions washing over you, you bring some distance between you and him slowly, and after mustering his genuine expression for a while, you reach for his hands once again.

"Don't touch me," you order as you put them back into their place above his head. "And don't cum until I tell you to. If you wanna be my little toy you gotta be good, alright?"

"Alright." He gulps, taking you in as you're sitting on top of him, starting to ride him with one hand sliding down your body, fingertips reaching your core to give yourself some extra stimulation. Eyes dripping with honey, he keeps his hands in place, and the more you can feel him growing inside you, the more you can also see him struggling to keep his composure.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters eventually, and you hum a praise to signal him to keep going. "Feels so good... wanna be good for you..."

"That's right..." you mutter, your eyelids fluttering shut as you bounce on top of him, rubbing circles onto your clit. You position yourself so that everytime you sink down on him his tip would graze that perfect spot inside you, and along with listening to his words and the way his voice starts shaking from the pleasure has you seeing stars soon enough.

"U-use me, please... wanna feel you cum on my cock..." he sputters, and you moan at his pleas.

"Doing so well for me, baby... shit, nobody could ever make me feel as good as you..." He whines desperately as you keep your pace slow, in hopes of bringing him as close as possible to the edge as you're racing towards your own high. "Hyuck..." you mutter his name, your voice trembling. "Cum with me." Another moan falling from his lips and you feel yourself shaken by your orgasm, clenching around him as he spills inside you a second time.

"Shit..." With a curse you collapse on top of him, finding him wrapping his arms around you in a comforting motion, and you add, "You were amazing." He nuzzles his face into the side of your head, lips brushing against your temple, and once you've caught your breath a bit you give him a proper kiss. "I'm sorry... for trying to push you away like th-" Donghyuck puts his index finger across your lips, shutting you up in the process, and with a soft smile he shakes his head.

"Stop apologizing," he says. "It's okay now. Let's focus on the future, and how we can build it together." His hand cupping your face and his thumb brushing against your cheek make your heart skip a beat, and you simply nod.

"You're right," you respond, and you lie back down on top of him, nestling into his chest. "If we just have each other, we can make it through anything."

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erosia-rhodes · 4 months

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Speculation on Mizu’s heritage

Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix is one of the best things I’ve seen all year. As I’ve been rewatching it, I couldn’t help but speculate on Mizu’s heritage, and I wanted to share my theory so we can all laugh at how wrong I was in a few years. (I am notoriously bad at guessing plot twists. I was totally wrong about how Wandavision and Loki season 1 would end.)

Spoilers and speculation behind the jump.

Short version: Mizu’s mother was a white woman and her father was the Shogun. The Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, put the bounty on Mizu’s life because she was proof that the Shogun broke his own laws.

Who Would Want to Kill a Baby?

We know that there has been a bounty on Mizu’s head since she was a baby. There are only three reasons I can think of for putting a hit out on a child who’s just been born and couldn’t have personally wronged anyone yet:

1) To deny them an inheritance.

2) To eliminate proof of an affair.

3) To eliminate proof of a crime.

The woman that claims to be Mizu’s mother is Japanese, so Mizu assumes her father must be white. But once Fowler reveals that Mizu’s “mother” was actually her maid, it opens up the possibility that Mizu’s mother was white and her father was Japanese.

We know that someone is willing to a pay a lot of money to kill Mizu, but the maid also ran off with enough money to take care of Mizu for several years, so at least one person in this mess is wealthy. We also know that someone still wants Mizu dead when she's an adult because men come to kill her when her husband rats her out, so she’s still a threat to someone else’s interests at that time.

If the Shogun slept with a white woman and fathered a mix-raced child as a result, that would fulfill all three reasons to put a bounty on a baby. Killing her would remove any chance that a bastard might try to blackmail her way into an inheritance, it would remove proof that the Shogun had an affair, and most importantly, it would destroy evidence that he violated his own laws against Western influence by sleeping with a white woman.

But the True Culprit is…

But I don’t think the Shogun put the bounty on Mizu’s life. I think it was the Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, for several reasons:

1) Lady Itoh is willing to kill people who learn that her husband broke his own laws.

When the nobles are trying to escape the fire in the finale, Lady Itoh makes her sons lock the door behind them and sentence the other Lords to death because they witnessed the Shogun’s shame, the revelation that he broke his own laws by dealing with Fowler, a white man. She’s demonstrated that she’s willing to kill people to destroy proof of her husband’s violations, so she’d do the same to a mixed-race baby he fathered. It would also explain why Mizu’s maid never claimed the bounty herself; she would have been targeted for death too because she knew about the Shogun’s crime. She probably took whatever money was in the house when the killers came for Mizu, and went on the run as much to save her own life as Mizu's.

2) The woman’s a sadist.

Lady Itoh does everything she can to make Akemi’s life hell once she marries into the family. She saddles her with bitchy attendants and serves her disgusting food at the banquet, and finishes it off with the cooked remains of the bird Akemi tried to free. Then she sends her two more birds the next day, claiming they’re breakfast and lunch. I have no trouble believing this woman would put a hit on a baby!

3) She’s a hardliner against Western influence

After the fire, Lady Itoh orders her sons to destroy 2000 guns which they could have used in the future against their enemies because she’d so fiercely against Western influence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who came up with the law banning white people and talked her husband into enacting it. That would explain why the Shogun was willing to violate the law, because he didn’t completely believe in it and only enacted it to get his wife off his back.

It Fits a Common Theme of Revenge Stories

Another reason I think Lady Itoh is the ultimate villain is because it fits the common theme that revenge is futile. Revenge usually destroys the person seeking it just as much as anyone they go after. There is a famous quote from Confucius that says, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." The implication is that the second one is for yourself.

If it turns out that Mizu has been going after the only four men in the country who couldn’t be her father, it would demonstrate how misguided revenge quests are. She’s spent her whole life pouring hatred into the wrong mission.

It would also be a painful twist to know that Mizu was in the same room with Lady Itoh in the finale, but she was focused on killing Fowler instead of realizing that her true enemy was fleeing out the back door with everyone else.

How It Will All Sort Out

I predict that Mizu will eventually learn the truth about her parentage and ultimately target Lady Itoh for death, not just for revenge, but so she can permanently remove the bounty on her head and live her life freely as a woman.

Akemi might end up assisting Mizu since Lady Itoh is also her enemy. Akemi will probably spend season two battling Lady Itoh for control of the household, and thus the country. If Akemi can put her husband in place as the Shogun, she could remove the bounty on Mizu's head.

If Taigan ends up working as a castle guard, this might put him in conflict with Mizu and Akemi if they target Lady Itoh since he would be honor bound to protect her.

It will be interesting to see how it all sorts out!

ETA: I misspelled Lady Itoh's name, sorry! (According to the subtitles it's Itoh, not Ito) I think I fixed every instance.

#blue eye samurai #netflix #blue eye samurai spoilers #mizu #taigen #akemi #mizu blue eye samurai #lady itoh

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hwaightme · 4 months

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🩺 pairing: paediatrician!bf!seonghwa x neurosurgeon!gn!reader 🩺 genre: fluff, doctor au, established long-term relationship, festive fic 🩺 summary: in the early hours of a shared night shift right before christmas, the present turns into a gift, and seonghwa can't be happier and more in love 🩺 wordcount: 7.8k total 🩺 warnings/tags: slightly edited, the fluff is strong, simpery is real, two doctors with heart eyes, marriage, proposals, family, hwa is yearing, woo cameo, woo+hwa banter, yeo+yunho mention, mom+kid side ocs, needles/syringes, injections, hospitals, night shifts, unconventional marshmallow toasting, a lot of love and sharing life <3 🩺 taglist: at the bottom of the fic 🩺 a/n: happy holidays and merry christmas~ the idea for this was in the drafts for ages, reignited hardcore by @starrysvn(...the cameos hehet), and it feels right for the festive season~ much love! comments, reblogs, notes all appreciated

Clean and comforting. The poster-room of an office, personalised, and yet retaining all the professional qualities necessary. The gentle swaying of the tulle that transformed the twinkling of a myriad of skyscrapers outside and a magnificent deep navy and inky black star-filled sky into a soothing haze, the ticking of a clock adorned with illustrations from the doctor’s favourite franchise. There was a unity even in the multicoloured shelves and cupboards. Stickers, kindly left behind by particularly pleased, proud and excited patients turned into permanent decorations on the sides of the otherwise strictly uniform desk, bringing relief and encouragement to its occupant. The newest additions - a small desk Christmas tree that was decorated on theme with the rest of the space, and a couple of garlands elegantly hung on the top cupboards and above the tulle served as reminders that it was, in fact, the festive season, and celebrations were only a day away. Even so, healthcare could not take a holiday, and the hospital was busier than ever.

“Hey… do you like… Lego?”

It had been long enough since the beginning of the appointment, as Doctor Park Seonghwa had noted, but the little patient sitting in front of him was still refusing to succumb to the wrath of a ‘spooky scary needle that makes him go ouchy’. Seonghwa could not blame the boy though - if there was something he never did, it was to project a child’s behaviour outwards into adult societal expectations. As a matter of fact, he rarely did that for adults too. He never saw the point, nor did he wish to impose some alternative spin on reality onto anyone who he had the pleasure of meeting, especially his patients or their relatives. As L/N Junseo crossed his arms in disapproval, Seonghwa could not help but spin a tiny fraction on his stool that he used during appointments such as this, and sneak another piece of sporadic scrutiny towards the mother. As he had assumed, there was little comfort to be offered from her side - she was sitting in a corner across the room, fanning herself and sending worried glances in the approximate direction of both the doctor and her son.

So, he had no choice left. He had to pull the most powerful weapons out of his arsenal - inspired by the many pieces that served as baubles on his desktop tree. Seonghwa was grateful that he had the foresight to not unpack the disposable syringe before checking the kid’s tolerance. Judging by the smile that spread across the boy’s face, and the confused expression gracing his mother’s, Seonghwa knew he hit the jackpot and there was potential for him to catch a break if the appointment did not run over, and if he was lucky enough, perhaps the main reason behind his rush would be free too. The simple thought inadvertently crawled into Seonghwa’s mind, and he lowered his gaze to suppress a shy smile and return to being the amiable paediatrician that he needed to be.

“Now, mister Junseo, will you wait a couple of seconds for me?” After receiving his patient’s enthusiastic nods of approval, he spun around on his stool, and rolled towards the cabinet that occupied the majority of the right wall of his office.

Stopping himself from crashing into his desk with a fast hand, he opened one of the lower doors to reveal a series of colour coded and labelled trays, each one filled to the brim with even more vibrant hues, but maintaining a strict order. Pulling the first and then the second tray from the top, the doctor inspected the contents, and decided to give the final decision to Junseo, turning to him with a grin on his face.

“Dinosaurs or spaceships?”

“Spaceships!” just as Seonghwa had thought, this question broke through the storm clouds of doubt and fear, cutting right down to Junseo’s primary interests, some of which the young doctor just so happened to share – the only difference was that the latter had to also remember that he had a job to do, and that job involved convincing, or cleverly deceiving with good intentions, a little kid into a routine shot. It was hard not to wonder what your, his life partner’s, reaction would be if you were in this room with him, considering that this environment was probably the furthest a space from your natural habitat - the operating room, could be.

“A man of good taste I see. I mean, dinosaurs are cool too, but I will let you in on a little secret… I have matching spaceship band aids,” As he pulled out the tray that contained some pre-built spaceships, with the bricks being from a younger-child-friendly set, along with stray pieces that turned the set into the perfect cognitive and sensory exercise, Seonghwa took time to explain his actions to the boy. In a way this was not too dissimilar from the preparation of instruments for surgery, so perhaps you would find joy in this interaction to the same extent as him. He shook his head lightly, reeling himself back to the matter at hand.

Sometimes, Seonghwa pondered whether too much of his budget, and, on occasion, personal finances, went towards making his office be more of a playground than what one would imagine ‘a doctor’s lair’ to be – in his mind, that was your office, one that he visited enough times to memorise. An ode to modernity, with books and documents, diagrams and an anatomically accurate model of a brain with various labels - just what one would expect of a real doctor. But both fortunately and unfortunately, this was a style that Seonghwa would not attempt to achieve in his own office. There was a mat on the floor made out of foam puzzle pieces, there was every form of toy transport he could find, animals, dolls… he swore he appeared in toy stores more regularly than in the pharmacy at this point. But the joy with which his patients’ faces lit up was more than encouraging, reminding him that he was on the right path, he was doing well, and that everything was worth it.

“NO WAY!” Junseo yelled out, excitedly kicking his feet. The paper towels that lined the bench rustled slightly, the link between the sheets being stress tested – much like the mother, who appeared to be speechless, but at least no longer faint.

Seonghwa imagined that his present conclusions and responsive actions were not too distant from how teachers felt when they saw a certain type of action be executed by a child, and then saw its origins during parent teacher conferences. The conclusion had come to his mind on its own accord but resounded loudly enough for him to send a reassuring gleam to Missus in the corner, and observe her delayed reactions as she, evidently, was battling the instinct to throttle him to the ground and save her child from danger. How wild and fascinating the generational sharing of fears and burdens was. Seonghwa turned his attention back to the star of the show, who was eagerly waiting for the eloquently advertised, and much anticipated, spaceships.

“Yes way! And I can show them to you later.” Seonghwa responded with a chuckle, setting the tray next to the boy, making him turn to the side and better expose the arm that was to receive the intramuscular injection. Even though Junseo was now fully immersed in the toy provided, he still expressed his gratitude, forcing the man to use every ounce of strength in him to not melt.

“Thank you so much Doctor Park!”

"No, thank you! Lego is my favourite, you know, but if you picked dinosaurs, you could have heard my tyrannosaurus rex impression." He could hear some shuffling outside of the room, turning into a thud as he introduced his ‘special ability’ when it came to distraction tactics. It was straining, conducting all his appointments without a nurse, since quite a number had arranged to go on holiday for Christmas, including his favourite in the form of a tall man with the brightest smile and enough energy to power the whole building - Jeong Yunho. Was it a challenge for Seonghwa? Perhaps, but he was coping. Besides, would he really want anyone here with him except a certain someone who was not even in this specialisation?

"Awh... no... but that sounds so fun I wanna hear, I wanna hear!!!" The cute boy was practically begging, giving Seonghwa his best puppy dog eyes with a turn of his head – that would not do for the doctor’s mission, however, Junseo needed to be practically in a different realm for it to work.

"Could you attach this jet engine please?" In the softest voice he could muster, Seonghwa guided attention back to the spaceships, commenting on how well Junseo was assembling them. He infinitely admired the ability that children had to disregard common practices, ignore rules and simply create. As Junseo would get older, he would undoubtedly have to succumb to standardisation, but in the meantime, he could enjoy picking a wild palette of coloured bricks, not think about astrophysics when constructing the ships, and be perfectly satisfied with what he was crafting.

"Mhm..."

Using the moment of distraction, Seonghwa turned and reached for the hand sanitiser pump on his desk, cleaning his hands. With practised motions, as he returned to his seat in front of the kid, the doctor took out the prefilled syringe out of the pocket of his white coat, peeling the decontamination seal to fish the item out. He had a small window of opportunity and needed to act fast to seize it. From the other pocket, he produced a packet with an alcohol swab, carefully tearing it, as far away from Junseo as possible so that he would not be shocked by the smell.

"Now, Junseo, could you sit a little closer to me, so... oh thank you!" The child obediently shuffled, not taking his eyes off the Lego pieces. "You might feel a little cold on your arm, but don't worry I will roar that away, okay, you with me? Ah wait, how do we make that ship the strongest in the galaxy?" breath in, breath out. Watching the child’s movements so that he would not accidentally hurt himself. Lifting the sleeve of the t-shirt the Junseo was wearing ever so slightly, Seonghwa crept towards the bench on his wheeled stool, praying to every higher power that he would be done with this appointment soon, but retaining his professionalism. It was now or never.

"Imma show you-"

"Nyaaaaaaah~"

As soon as Seonghwa started, he was done, and the syringe was long hidden behind his back as he pressed a cotton ball to the area, though Junseo could not care less, having broken into a fit of giggles over the interesting interpretation of a t-rex. No matter how exhausted he was, this was one of the things the doctor lived for – having the ability to make medicine, doctor’s visits, and hospitals just a little bit less miserable for the little ones, something of a game or an adventure, him being of the opinion that these pocket-sized humans did not deserve to be exposed to the struggles quite yet. If it was in his power, he would have changed the ‘quite yet’ to never, but that was far too utopian, and something wiped out of him in first year of medical school. So, Doctor Park simply tried his best.

"DOCTOR PARK THAT WAS NOT A ROAR!!!" Junseo proclaimed, still giggling as he clutched onto a bright green brick. Seonghwa chuckled, sliding to the left to dispose of the syringe in a biohazard bin, stretching himself out so that he could still keep holding the cotton ball. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mother beginning to come to her senses, the ‘high alert’ mode dropping to a more manageable, generally healthy parental worry.

"Then come on, show me what you've got. I bet you have a-"

"ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAR!!!" With him being startled by what he should have expected, he could not help but throw a glance at the other adult in the room, finding her surprised. Hands clasped together, she whispered ‘goodness gracious’, and upon finding out that she had a one-man audience, gave a sheepish grin and looked down. Seonghwa was calming down from his ‘performance’, the doctor, actor, caregiver and child-friendly comedian in him began to leave his body, giving way to a straightforward happiness of a man who could see that he helped out people in need.

"Wow now that is IMPRESSIVE Mister Junseo! Ah wait, could you hold this for me?” he gestured towards the cotton ball, and once the boy complied, backed away to get some more hand sanitiser. “We are done!"

"Huh? Wait... no ouchy?" genuinely confused, the toddler asked, dropping the Lego pieces entirely and blinking in slow motion.

"We scared the ouchy away with spaceships and your awesome roar, didn't we?"

"WE DID!! WE DID!!" With the cotton forgotten, Junseo was about to hop off the bench, his hands pressed into the dark grey material he had been sitting on, but before he could Seonghwa caught him, easily picking the boy up in his arms despite the weight that it put on him. After all, patients came first, and this was always a clear sign that he was trusted – besides, the kid did not have any other ailments, so a little hug would not hurt anyone, especially not Seonghwa’s soul.

"We did! I promised you a cool band aid too so... ah hold on let me... watch your head please." With Junseo still in his arms, Doctor Park ambled towards the other side of the office, closer to where the mother was now standing, to reach into one of the shelves and retrieve the packet of what he considered to be something akin to achievement stamps. A final well done from him to the patient, for being so courageous and letting Seonghwa poke them with a needle.

The rest of the appointment went by in a blur. The boy was safely back in his mother’s arms, sporting a colourful bandaid, babbling away about spaceships, quietly repeating Seonghwa’s dinosaur impression, and emphasising for the umpteenth time that ‘the injection actually did not hurt at all’, much to the mother’s delight. She looked to be on cloud nine as she held her bundle of joy, and even though he was bouncing on her lap to the point where the doctor would assume that she was in discomfort, the woman showed no sign, and instead gleamed at him, expressing genuine gratitude.

"So sorry for all the trouble and that I could not help in any way, please accept my-"

"No need no need! Junseo is such a sweet boy, and it was all his bravery in the end. I am just doing my job." He tried to assure her, flipping through the vaccination booklet she had provided and filling out the details of the shot. While checking the date just in case, despite him having a mental countdown to Christmas with the precision down to an hour practically built into his brain, he still noted the clock on his computer, memorising the time in order to figure out when approximately you would be done with the surgery you had arranged for this evening. Maybe he would have enough time to stop by your department, and manage to catch you there to ask about what plans for celebration you two would dare have in between busy schedules. His attention was guided back to the jovial duo on the armchair, as the mother spoke once more.

"You perform miracles, Doctor Park. Really. You are truly one of a kind! Before today I was convinced that he was wired to cry at every appointment..." she lowered her voice a little, just as Junseo turned away to pick at one of his trouser pockets.

"If you are worried about him developing any phobias and the like, I can recommend some amazing medical experts who can work with you and him?" Whenever anyone voiced a concern, he took it as part of his responsibility to respond wholeheartedly, and as such, once he completed the record, offered assistance. Perhaps this was also a safe zone for him, a removal from what otherwise would inevitably make his heart melt or ache. But to no avail.

"Oh no, no, I think I found the cure right here. Really, my husband will be so impressed about this!”

Husband. Happy family. There it was. Seonghwa felt the corner of his mouth twitch as he lifted himself off his chair, shut the booklet and returned it to the mother, and wife. It was difficult to convince himself that this was not jealousy tugging at his nerves and heartstrings, as the more he pondered the image of what had to be a perfect union, the dinners, the days out in the park, the little meet ups for lunch if either partner was otherwise busy… the domesticity got to him and made him want to slam the table in frustration. So, he did the next best thing, and clasped his hands behind his back so that he would not dare act out of line.

“Is that so?” he forced out, remaining composed as he returned the mother’s bows while she ushered her son forward and stood up to head for the door. He could not help but imagine the duo walking under the lights that adorned every shop, every street and coming home to their own tree, coming together as a small family in a cosy atmosphere. Similar routines, similar time off, the space to love and to live and to enjoy being ‘one’ to the fullest.

“I think he will want to come with us next time, to meet you, really… of course if you don't mind us scheduling check-ups with you from now on?" meet him… so Seonghwa could see the whole assembly… Really, right in the moment when his head was filled with thoughts of you, he had to be reminded of just how adorable some aspects of paediatrics could be, to the degree of malicious irritation.

He bet that the reason why you were so relaxed about your relationship was because you were not in direct contact with families and cute kids, for the most part. The closest you came to communicating with patients was in briefing, de-briefing and maintenance of their condition pre- and post- operation. He had to see the bad and good, the downs and ups, the rollercoasters and the memorable highs over long periods of time. Some of his patients he had known for so long, they were basically his relatives, and the personifications of sunshine that would rush to greet him, nearly stumbling over tiny shoes and sometimes barely reaching his waist, or even mid-thigh, restored his faith in the universe. It was exactly because he was aware of the downsides, and still desired this closeness and this next step with you, that he was cursing time itself for not allowing him to express this hope properly. Sure, you had discussed marriage, and both of you were more than committed to one another, but no words had been said about the part where someone popped the question. Was there ever going to be ‘the right time’? Especially when both of you were at the early stages of your medical careers, and were caught adrift in the chaotic shifts, training, exams and had to sacrifice yourselves for thousands who came through the doors of the hospital.

"Ah, whatever you would prefer, Missus Hwang. It would be an honour.” He squashed his nerves for the remainder of the appointment, and peacefully parted with the two visitors to KQ Hospital, wishing them the happiest holidays and for a stable recovery from the vaccination.

Seonghwa remained standing in the corridor, his back propping the door to the office. Closing his eyes, he listened to the opening of the elevator, and let out a breath he did not know he had been holding once Junseo’s excited, shrill voice was muted by the doors. Gears moved into action as the machine carried the mother and son away from the paediatric ward. The doctor rolled his head in an attempt to relieve at least some of the tension that had built up from the back-to-back out-patient care, the abominable late nights, and the vexatious haze that plagued him in his own life.

It was going to be a long night. And he was barely a quarter of the way through his night shift; perhaps the winter cold and the shorter days were to blame for the melancholy mood. As he straightened himself up once more, Seonghwa instinctively reached for the phone that was hidden in the pocket of his black trousers, hoping for any kind of distraction. Checking the time, messages, whether you had even seen his text about the maintenance people coming to check the plumbing next week… any sign that there was a world beyond his job. But the communication flatlined, and he resorted to simply staring at his lockscreen: a picture of the two of you during that one vacation that you had managed to book together. The one where, three days in, both of you had severe work withdrawal, but thankfully laughed it off and soothed the pain by falling asleep in each other’s arms. That was what he missed. The simple things. If there was one thing he wished for this Christmas, it was for you and him to spend it together - no one else, no pagers going off incessantly, no family members intruding on your time, not even friends. He missed you, even though you were right there. Of course, he still felt blessed to be able to embrace you almost every time you two would be floating into dreamland - be it in the morning or in the evening, aside from when shifts did not align, but he craved more, always. Maybe he was being greedy, wanting for even more of your time. Nonetheless, he hoped that his readiness to sacrifice all of his for you would, at some point, result in his most romantic dreams, akin to castles in the sky, coming true. He wished to well and truly build a life with you. Seonghwa had never thought that he would pay so much attention to labels, but something about settling down officially, being together ‘in sickness and in health’, as he had heard in the vows at his friends’ weddings, was leaving him in a state of longing, constantly, until it was a permanent buzzing in his head.

"So... Doctor Seong-nyah-" rudely tearing through his daydreams, a familiar voice startled the doctor, causing him to gasp and shove his mobile phone into his pocket with panicked haste.

"Wooyoung, don't test me, you are not my patient." Seonghwa gasped, and retorted with sudden venom, spinning to face the man who, evidently, had been loitering around in the corridor behind him for a lot longer than he would ever accept.

"But I want a sticker or a bandaid please~"

But the action only resulted in a stupor, as right there, hands in pockets, the ghost of a mischievous smile on perfectly tinted lips, was his favourite person. Doctor L/N Y/N, neurosurgeon, and definitely the one who had changed his brain wiring to short circuit every time he saw you. Before Wooyoung got any cheekier due to the lack of a response and the less than discreet gawking from Seonghwa’s end, he forced out a random commentary; anything to keep himself from going into cardiac arrest.

"You keep stealing my Disney princess ones anyways!?"

"Can't help it. Besides I've seen you snatch the toy sword so consider us even."

A light blush was threatening to coat his cheeks as he gazed at you, mesmerised by your cheerful reaction. Without a doubt you were imagining the scene, and had you been alone, would coo at ‘just how endearing’ it was. This was not the kind of ‘break between appointments’ that he was imagining, and while you were here, before him, very obviously free, Seonghwa was questioning whether this was a manifestation of luck or a curse.

"That was for safety… and… uh… hello my love.” he mumbled, while you smiled at him, and gave him a gentle wave, already anticipating that even if you were to speak, you would crack and reveal what you had been planning - a major step forward that had been plaguing your mind at almost all hours, even in rare snippets of quiet. Technically, what you had said to Seonghwa was true - it had been an operation, just of a different kind. Careful to not let the mandatory Santa hat you had tugged on your head as part of your department’s senior residents’ effort to ‘keep the spirits up’ slip, you adjusted it to be more snug, and rapidly returned your attention to your boyfriend, who was intently studying you, admiring every detail as though he had not seen each one a million times over.

"Y/N here found the dinosaur impression cute, just so you know." Stuck in a limbo between locking himself in his office and throttling Wooyoung to the ground, Seonghwa chose neither and was simply amazed at how you could remain so nonchalant.

"Were both of you… listening to the… but that is not-”

You and Wooyoung exchanged a knowing look, causing suspicion to rise in Seonghwa. He was not fond of it. Not in the slightest. There was something brewing, and that glint in your eyes was less than reassuring. What were you hiding from him? A million questions a second ran through his mind as he subjected you to scrutiny. First off, you had said that the surgery could be challenging. And yet he could not detect the slight furrowing in your brows, the slouch, the pursed lips that you normally had if you were monitoring a patient in critical condition.

"They were around the department, and I just so happen to know that you are a certified clown so..." Wooyoung began, purposefully winding the taller man up until he was ready to break the Hippocratic oath and cause harm.

"Says the person who can literally replace the fire alarm with his-"

“This is why you should follow my methods and do the whole ‘energy drink and coffee” cocktail before those ghostly long shifts, I tell you-” crossing his arms, Wooyoung appeared to be enjoying every moment he spent teasing his fellow colleague, ignoring how you were starting to get impatient, glancing down the corridor and back to the bickering friends.

“How even-”

"Well, I would more than like to consult the lovely, charming clown please, because I have a whole circus on my hands and need some help.”

That was all that was needed to regain all attention back. Seonghwa gave Wooyoung one last sidelong stare before focusing on you, attempting to figure out just what you were scheming. He knew better than to pry, however, if there was anyone in your relationship who was an expert in dissecting, be it literally or metaphorically, it would be you. That was exactly why he stood and waited with bated breath, fingertips dancing on his upper thigh. In trepidation, the young man’s mind replayed every shared moment with unfathomable clarity, leading him to wonder if this mischievous glint in your stunning orbs was further foreshadowing, much like your sudden announcement that you would be working the same hours as him today, and upon questioning passed it off as “a bit of Christmas luck”.

“Right…” Wooyoung’s voice appeared distant, barely audible against the thrum of nervousness and lighthearted suspicion. Running a hand through his wavy, neatly parted long hair Seonghwa gave you a lopsided grin before following you down the corridor and giving his colleague an amiable wave, along with a cheerful call of “see you later”. His friend had the whole night ahead of them - much like you and Seonghwa. Except, unfortunately, you and your partner were floors, departments away. Not that far in the grand scheme of things, but far enough for Seonghwa’s heart to start hurting when he least expected it.

Just like now, despite you being within arm’s reach, the proximity reminded him of just how much of a luxury such moments were, and how, should anything go wrong, you would metaphorically evaporate. The beeping of a pager would be enough to make you or him leave, that damned device having to be strapped on and prioritised above everything else. As less and less time remained until Christmas, the probability of it going off climbed higher and higher, so every step was a risk, and every scheduled consultation or out-patient care call when Seonghwa was mandated to hand off his monitoring duties to another resident - a temporary salvation.

You were in your scrubs, and were sporting a standard issue doctor’s coat, ever so professional. Though your back was facing him, Seonghwa could easily imagine the identity card clipped to the pocket above your heart, along with the embroidered hospital name and emblem, and your department. Neurosurgery. The top of the top, an art and a science so complex that Seonghwa was in awe of you eternally. How you dedicated your life to the mystery behind a person’s eyes, and how you could heal the terrifyingly enigmatic organ with astounding success. Determined, passionate in all ways, that was what had drawn the enamoured man to you, and what had made him fall deeper and deeper and vow to stay for as long as you would allow him. Would you be fine with him tagging along, just like this? Would you be willing to walk in the same stride?

“Hwa,” turning your head, you exclaimed your boyfriend’s nickname and then turned back to scan your pass to let you both through to another corridor, “how has your day been so far, lovely?”

“It’s been good, not too bothersome. Last appointment was a vaccination - not sure how or why the literal holidays were chosen for this, but who am I to judge,” looking around, Seonghwa responded. Quickly, he caught up to you, and in a matter of moments you felt how his fingers intertwined with yours, and his palm was pressed against you, as though a mirror image. Jigsaw pieces falling into a perfect union, your hands, stilled in harmony.

“Maybe not everyone wants to skip school,” you mused, poking fun at the times when your boyfriend did just that - at least before university and him choosing to major in medicine hit like a truck; in the blissful middle and high school days, so easy in retrospect - a fever dream.

“I’d love to hear what the little patient would think about that one… but really, Christmas? Why would you run the risk of having side effects over Christmas?”

“That’s true… but I bet you made the appointment a really good time. In fact, from what I have heard I am sure you did,” you teased, making Seonghwa squeeze your hand and click his tongue in pretend annoyance.

“Hey, I’m trying my best here-”

“-and you are making the world a better place,” you cut him off, squeezing back and urging him on, closer and closer to your final destination.

Seonghwa shook his head, bewildered at the sudden outburst of affection. You were normally not the kind to get too sappy at work - if anyone, it was him who would gush about the simplest things to you during a brief lunch break, while you would be nodding along with a grin on your face. You were excited about something, without a doubt. What it was, however, was beyond him, so he let you lead, while playfully questioning your behaviour.

“What’s gotten into you? Did you forget to put the plates back in the cupboard at home?” he squinted, slightly relieved when you chuckled but still left without a concrete answer:

“Can’t I praise the love of my life every once in a while?”

“You can, but-”

“-Besides, Yeosang, you know, my friend from paediatric neurosurgery, he said kids who you had treated talk about you non-stop. Maybe you should pay some of them a visit. If their treating doctors allow it, of course.”

Eyes widening, Seonghwa barely noticed you slipping away from him to grab a large bag you had stationed by a heavy exit door, and in bewilderment was concerned if he should believe your overwhelmingly kind message. All those little lives he had the honour of getting to know and trying his best to help… remembering him? It was at times like these, even the hardest days were worth it. For the present and for the future. He returned to reality only when he felt a gust of freezing cold air hit his form and goosebumps ran over his skin. Your proud, loving smile greeted him and encouraged him to walk on. When Seonghwa attempted to query your spontaneous adventurism, you waved it off - forward, only forward. Making a note of something fluffy in texture peeking out of the bag, he hoped for it to be at least a scarf; a doctor should know to not expose themselves to the risk of colds.

You led Seonghwa to one of the many secluded areas of the hospital - forgotten by most staff, this portion of the roof was the prettiest at night, when the lights of surrounding high rises and the rest of the metropolis stretching out as far as the eye could see all glimmered like a blanket of stars laid down on the precious planet. The city, forever awake, bustling with activity. A hand brushed against his upper arm, and he turned his head to see you holding his coat that he swore he had left in the call room. Gingerly, the article was in his grasp, and yet another question was travelling for you to tackle:

“Now when did you get this? I know I did not just leave it lying around.”

“Mhm, call room. Coat hanger. By the door. I am very aware. I picked it up on the way.”

“Sounds like someone had a lot of time…” trailing off, Seonghwa put on the coat, watching as you did the same. Apparently, that was not all that was in the bag, and with each item that was revealed, his surprise grew and grew.

“Just enough to prepare a little something,” in one swift movement, you caught your boyfriend off guard with sudden Santa hat attack - nearly covering his eyes with the white fluff, previously styled hair shooting out in different directions from under the accessory, you still deemed the mission successful, and giggled, elaborating: “now, we match.”

He could not not love you. Much like the nights in December were dark and his exhales turned to steam that was to be whisked away by the wind, he was confident in the fact that he was born to love you, and only you. It was funny to think that years ago he thought of other kinds of forever, only for them to fall apart in months. Seonghwa mused about different realities, but was never afraid of losing them until inevitably happened; not because he did not care at all, but because his heart was never in the right place. Now that his heart was home, it was clear. Most of all, the clearest sign of the truth that belonged to your relationship, was the subconscious fear, continuous and blended into every note of adoration. It was in his love for you that he found what it meant to be afraid to lose.

The young man did not want to lose these priceless moments - how you would make an elaborate plan and surprise him with it. How out of nowhere, before his very eyes was a blanket that you laid down on the roof, a portable heater that emitted a glow akin to that of a campfire, and a large wool throw that he assumed you wished to use to keep you both warm. That shine that he swore was coming from something heavenly within you as you dragged him to take a seat, your adorable cooing over him as you wrapped the two of you tight with the throw, and scooched until your body was pressed against his. On instinct, Seonghwa’s arm was around you, and he leaned in until he could smell the faint, comforting aroma of your strawberry shampoo. Staring into the heater, he imagined a gentle flame, falling into a beautiful daydream - a world where there was just you and him.

This was a long-standing fantasy of his, a picture of which he had painted for you many times while you counted stars on the ceiling of your bedroom, drifting off to sleep just before the chirping of the birds, the dawn bidding you farewell and wishing a good rest. Somewhere nowhere, in a place with no name, surrounded by no one and nothing, you two could stay for a little while and indulge in simplicity. An escape from the daily stresses, a dive into the daily bliss of being enamoured and having found one’s soulmate. In a little cottage that you two could rent out, with a little spot outside so you could pretend like you were properly camping, Seonghwa prayed for time in an earthly utopia.

“I couldn’t find sticks, So I hope you are fireproof,” a marshmallow was held between two delicate fingers right before his eyes. A large, white cloud and a hint that you might have been listening a lot more intently than you had let on.

“I- are we- are we about to be toasting marshmallows?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” the doctor followed your lead, stretching out his hand to the heater, imagining the marshmallow roast away; if Seonghwa were to squint hard enough, he could almost see the colour change.

A giggle escaped you, and you huddled into him, at peace due to the safety which you always said he naturally oozed. Without fail you told him how he was a walking spring day, a blessing, a shining star. The more you said it, the more confident he became in accepting the words as truth, and then, one day when he caught you admiring him from afar while waiting for him to finish rounds, acceptance turned into a fact. By loving you, and by letting you love him, Seonghwa learned to love himself. Thoughts of fond memories prompted him to give you a gentle poke, making you lift your head in perplexion. This, however, was quickly dispelled by a the sweetest kiss, deepened by a gentle hand that found purchase on the nape of your neck.

Lips so familiar, so addicting; each time they met was the kindling of a miniature paradise. A journey through time, to end only in the future, the present turned into a miracle in which he could immerse himself, all of his senses attuned to you. The touch of your lips was the rays of a sun in May, kind and soothing, blossoming into the finest beauty and the most satisfying serenity on verdant green leaves and gorgeous flowers. The only thing he could hear was the breeze creeping across the not quite as picturesque cement and metal, and the ghost of a mumble of “I love you” as you parted for air, still close enough to share it.

Lost in your eyes, Seonghwa wished he could never be found. He was willing to endlessly draw the maze that trapped him in them, adapting it to formulate a personal infinity. Eyelashes, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, lips, every blemish and freckle and scar were all priceless to him. You, in all your personal divinity, a universe that so intently studied him, loved every part unconditionally and invited him in to do the same. A symbiosis, a system of two stars orbiting one another - a gorgeous celestial waltz was how he saw you and him. Under the night sky full of constellations, you two were still the brightest. Seonghwa’s heart was full. He ever so softly let his hand slide to the side of your face, thumb gliding slowly over the skin of your cheek. Once, twice - perpetual motion, each one marking another second in which love grew stronger, and the yearning for his dream more intense. If only he could put it into words. And yet, courage only allowed him to muster a mere two which were far too general, ambiguous:

“Thank you.”

“I am glad we could do this,” you answered, sharing in his delight. You did not need anything else, seeing past the mellow, pleasant triviality.

“I think the only downside is that now I want to do this all the time,” his hand guided your head into the crook of his neck, so you could sit side by side, looking out into the urban expanse. Silence weighed on you, until a long-awaited suggestion reached Seonghwa’s ears.

“Well… we could. At least for Christmas.”

“As if we will be taking days off, yeah.”

“Who says we won’t?”

“I- huh?”

You took his hands in yours, and shuffled for you to be face to face. Much to your astonishment, when it came down to the critical moment when you would start being blatantly obvious in your intentions, you were not as anxious anymore. Everything felt more than right, and the comfortable quietude resembled the globe holding its breath for you.

“I have an idea,” your boyfriend was intrigued, but doubtful. He had hopes, sure, but he knew better than to keep them up, “so… ahem, well, for us it is standard practice to not schedule anything major on holidays, just in case, and thankfully I could… reschedule some things…”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded along, raising his eyebrow. Your hands held his more tightly on their own accord, shaking a little as you spoke.

“Well, so, yeah, you know how the head of… the head of paediatrics is a big family person right?”

“Yeah, comes with the job I suppose, and?” tongue darting over his lips, Seonghwa began to sense what you were getting at, and he swore there was not enough oxygen to sustain him, and a dizziness settled over his mind, clouding it, leaving behind only you, you, you-

“Hm… well… I think they would be more than happy to let a new family celebrate together… yeah?”

“...Yeah…yeah?”

“So what I’m saying is-”

“Will you marry me?”

“Beat me to it,” gleaming, you pulled him in, stopping a mere few millimetres away, seeking approval.

Hints of tears welling in his deep brown eyes induced your own. Pressed forehead to forehead, you memorised every tiny detail, how you felt, how Seonghwa felt, how you were both fondly mumbling ‘yes's and ‘always’s and ‘I love you’s over and over again; vows uttered at the beginning of a new chapter of a miraculous life, in perfect harmony.

“I’m sorry for the ‘no ring’ situation-”

“I’d marry you with paper rings,” Seonghwa responded at the speed of light, quoting one of the many songs that both of you loved to listen to, and would blast in the living room many times over, “how did you even plan this-”

“Don’t bash me, but Wooyoung was an accomplice-”

“Of course he was,” he flicked your nose with his and guided you into another kiss, your hat sliding away and almost falling to the ground, saved only by Seonghwa’s reflexes. Smiling against your lips, he only deepened the sensual expression of devotion, parting simply to confess,

“To think we were rehearsing the same thing but I was too scared to say it.”

“You are too precious. And I’m sorry if I’m too scary, angel,” you winked, earning an amused, airy laugh.

This could not be the furthest from how Seonghwa felt; the notion of you terrifying him was hilarious. Everything but you was the issue. You were his safe haven, his clarity. The one to whom he had already given away all his hours, be it in closeness or in his dreams both in the day and night. You were his and he was yours, and now that the one change he had been begging all the goodness in the galaxy for finally happened, he wanted to shout this from every rooftop, starting from this fated, isolated spot that must have been made for just you two.

“No, I am just more certain that you can read minds,” he gestured to the heater, the untouched marshmallows, the stars, and finally stopped at you, alluding to what was to be your proposal, turned mutual.

“Just because I poke around brains-” you began, only to be stopped by unparalleled cuteness in the form of a scrunched up face and a tiny smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, you aren’t even a cardiologist and you stole my heart-”

“Park Seonghwa, cease the flirting, we are getting married-” playfully, you slap his shoulder.

“Oh, you only saw the beginning,” a wiggle of the eyebrows. Your very soul fluttered at the sight of his megawatt grin, and the innocent peck left on your cheek.

“...I hope so,” your wish. To cherish the many sides, colours, shades, edges, angles of your spectacular Seonghwa.

“It’s decided. I’ll hit you with all the festive pick up lines starting tomorrow.”

As you settled back into an embrace, regarding the golden glow of your inner oasis that transposed onto all, previously dark, surroundings, you unwillingly played the role of the realist.

“Ask your department head first.”

“For a blessing?”

“No, silly, to confirm your freedom.”

“Yes, Doc’,” in jest, your fiance saluted you, and you wrapped your arms tighter around his waist, brushing your jaw against his shoulder.

“Page me after."

“I will page myself across the hospital to tell you.”

“Awh, my Seonghwa Claus and my present in one,” absent-mindedly, you reached for a stubborn strand of his hair to push away, and twirled it around your digits, careful to not ruin the perfect balance of the themed hat beneath which they tried to establish their own order, threatening to disturb your elated angel.

“My future spouse- oh I’ll be saying this so often.”

From one day to the next, under the sun and moon, with many seasons passing by, you became the time that you seeked and previously fought against. As you looked to one another for more and more in your lives, it was destined that eventually, the idea of any other path would be simply impossible. At the end of a year came a new beginning, witnessed by the observant stars and by the long winter night.

“Me too, my love, until I can call you my husband.”

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transmutationisms · 18 days

Note

oh i would actually be curious to hear your thoughts on lolita book covers in that case. i do get the sense that some of the covers are designed to uncritically titilate and seem to misunderstand the text, but that could obviously be an assumption on my part lol.

oh i agree that the cover designs tend to run counter to nabokov's intentions, both in the text and in the literal instructions he gave about covers lol. they pretty clearly rely on putting some young girl on display, which is exactly what nabokov did not want to do visually; they also tend to suggest dolores as some kind of seductress (sultry gazes, pouty lips, &c). clearly this is precisely the opposite of what the text tells us about her.

however when evaluating these visual choices i find that many people portray them as some kind of originary and culturally polluting act: that is, a narrative emerges that the problem here is people misinterpreting 'lolita', and then publishing it with covers that will do harm to young girls &c. i think this is lazy analysis and fundamentally makes idealist assumptions overestimating the effect of cultural products (books, book covers) on problems, like the sexualisation of children, that are in fact grounded in material relations, such as in this case the status of children as legal property and the total power granted to adults over them. that is to say, these broader conditions are at root the reason that cultural products like the cover of 'lolita' look the way they do, and chalking it up to individuals not understanding the book is never going to get us very far; and also, although some of these covers are pretty egregious, they are the reflection rather than the cause of the sexualisation of children, a problem that would continue to exist even if every edition of 'lolita' ever printed just said "humbert humbert is an unreliable narrator and dolores haze is a child he is preying on" on the cover.

fundamentally i also think this sort of conversation often elides some more interesting points about whom these covers communicate to and what they say. you suggest they are meant to "titillate"; although i would agree dolores is often shown as sexual, desirable, and seductive, i'm not sure that's the same as assuming the cover is trying to arouse the potential reader. for one thing, to put it bluntly, this style of cover tends to be associated more with books marketed to women than to heterosexual men. and more broadly, and this is something the lolita podcast really fails to understand imo, the phenomenon of people reading 'lolita' and relating themselves to dolores is not mutually exclusive with this type of rhetorical construction of dolores-through-humbert's-eyes. that is, often what appeals about dolores is, i think, precisely the fact that through her, people find a way of discoursing about or simply re-enacting the kind of sexualisation that they are already subjected to or have been in the past, whether or not at a level as explicit and extreme as what nabokov depicts.

i'm not really interested in a simple moral condemnation of the people who design these covers; that critique writes itself. they are obviously bad and facile, and reflective of precisely the culture of child sexual abuse that nabokov's text condemns. but if we are interested in the reception of these objects, or interrogating the cultural meaning and implications of their existence, i just think there's a lot more going on here than what the podcast portrays as a simple sort of 'broadcast' model of mass media wherein the 'lolita' book cover and trope is beamed out to unsuspecting innocents who are then exposed to its nefarious elements. dolores appeals to people for lots of reasons, some prurient, some pitying, some openly self-projective, and these are not mutually exclusive with one another nor are they mutually exclusive with readings that reproduce elements of the very lolita character that humbert creates and uses to silence and re-write dolores. we can be uncomfortable with that and refuse to talk about it but if that's the position someone wants to take then i'm not likely to be interested enough in their opinions to, like, listen to their podcast about this book lol.

#lolita

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luveline · 6 months

Note

hi jade!!! i was wondering if i could request a bassist!remus x roadie!reader fic in which they spend time together on their day off from touring? maybe reader is totally surprised that he even asked her?

hi gorgeous!! modern au, fem 1k

cw vague adult theme, mdni

"There you are," Remus says, as though he's said it a hundred times before, and he'll say it a hundred times again. "I've been looking for you."

As a roadie (merchandising, mostly), there's no reason for Remus to know who you are, nor care, but he seems to like you anyhow. And there's nowhere for you to hang out in your downtime beside hotel lobby's or your literal assigned seat in the minivan, so here you are, in your pyjamas, laying on a random lobby couch with a book smushed to your chest.

"What?" you ask, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"I've been looking for you. You weren't in your room."

"I share my room with three other girls, one who has sleep apnea." The muscles in your back sing like plucked strings as you sit up. "It's quieter here… You're looking for me?"

"Mm. Come on. We'll go get a late dinner."

"I'm in my pyjamas."

Remus gestures down at himself. "I thought you might be."

He's dressed down too. Every roadie has their thing —it's hard, learning so many names at once, and eventually people begin to typecast one another as their most defining feature. Yours, to your indifference, seems to have become your more comfortable clothing choices. You're not gross, everything's clean, but is everything acceptable attire for going out into the world?

"No one will even notice they're pyjamas," he assumes you, holding out his hand expectantly. "They look like jogging bottoms."

"Remus, they're lavender."

He pulls your hand toward his chest, encouraging you to stand. "They're nice."

He ferries you out of the hotel, and you thank your lucky stars you wore your converse rather than the hotel slippers. He's clearly thought about this, offering you a hoodie (your size, clearly swiped from the merchandise van, 'marauders' written in jagged lettering across your shoulders like bat wings) as he explains the details of your trip.

"First we'll get dinner. Then see a film in the cinema, if you want to? They have the new Exorcist."

"I love horror."

"I know." He nods to himself. "And then I have to buy you fresh donuts. James says they're the only way to eat them."

"You don't have to buy me anything."

"Sorry, I should say it differently. I'd love to buy you fresh donuts. If that's what you want to do."

You peek at him from the corner of your eye. "I would've stayed in the lobby if I didn't want to come out with you."

"In that case," he murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

This is worse than flirting. It feels like an initiation, or a turned tide. You smile at him from under his arm and he visibly pauses, falters, before his own smile hooks and he walks forward with a little more purpose.

The day moves on as promised. You eat a quick dinner at a mid range restaurant before he takes you to the cinema, where he insists he doesn't want any popcorn but eats half of yours anyways. Then he takes you for donuts, and the entire time, you're thinking, what does he want from me? If Remus wanted sex he could fuck a groupie. Half the techs would crawl into bed with him if he asked. Maybe he's just gentlemanly?

But why would he wanna fuck you? Ignoring any self-esteem issues, you're in cuffed bottoms and bare-faced, and he has no reason to believe you'd be any good in bed.

He might want something slower, he decides. It's easier to believe when he asks if he can hold your hand on the walk home.

"What?" you ask, sure you heard him wrong.

"Can I?" he says, offering you his palm.

It's different from his pulling earlier. You give him your hand and he squeezes his fingers between yours slowly, as though savouring the feeling.

You shake your head. "Was this…"

Remus waits for you to finish. It's hard to ask under the weight of his gaze, happy but with that air of knowing you can't quite crack. He always seems so put together, even when he's asking for things, like any answer you give is one he's prepared for.

"Was this a date?" you force out.

"That depends. Did it go well?"

"I would've said yes, if you asked me."

Remus leans in like he's telling a secret, his voice hushed to match. "I know," he says gently, the tiniest hint of smugness threaded in the slight scratch of his voice. "That's mostly why I didn't ask."

"Mostly?"

"I couldn't face rejection. Not from you." His eyes light with an emotion you can't name. "But if you still want to reject me, I'll cope. It might be good for me, actually, it'll give me some material. Nothing makes for better music than losing a pretty girl."

You fluster at his wording. "I would've worn something nice," you say apologetically. "If I'd known. I would've made an effort to look nice."

"You always look nice. You think I'm put off by your pyjamas?"

"Stop," you mumble, mortification creeping in. I can't believe I just went on a date with a rockstar in my pyjamas.

"It's cute. You're cute, I love that you can fall asleep anywhere–"

"Stop!"

Remus laughs and pulls you that last inch into his side, elbow to elbow, hip to hip. "I can't. Teasing you is half the fun. It's why I haven't mentioned the powdered sugar on your lip."

You sigh and turn your face away from him, wiping your lip with your sleeve. "You always do this."

"Don't wipe it off, I'll get it. It'll taste sweet."

You take your hand out of his. "Did you want this to be a date? I'll change my mind."

He's kinder after that, and when he rubs your shoulder like he knows you need it, you almost pass out.

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guillotinebypierre · 6 months

Text

Sex,

A sexual activity typically involving the insertion and thrusting of the penis into the vagina for sexual pleasure or reproduction.

Historically, the reasons people have sex have been assumed to be few in number and simple to understand. In nature, to reproduce, to experience pleasure, or to relieve sexual tension. Several theoretical perspectives suggest that motives for engaging in sexual intercourse may be larger in number and psychologically complex in nature, meaning that sex helps people form bonds, no matter if they're purely off sexual attraction or emotional attachment.

In theory, one night stands are thus something positive as one can live through all the good parts of sex without the attachment.

Or so you thought.

Y/n L/n never liked one night stands. At least until a certain point.

Back in 2015, when he was still a young and innocent boy, only 18 years of age he had gotten the opportunity of a lifetime, getting to work overseas with incredible pay and getting to know a totally different culture than the one he was used to.

So he took it.

In January 2015 Y/n went to South Korea and studied and worked there for 8 months. 8 months in which he got to know and got to love the culture. He wanted to stay longer, but he knew he couldn't. He had a life back in his home country. He had family, he had school and he had a girlfriend.

But that mindset changed entirely when he came home and found said girlfriend cheating on him as those 6 months were apparently 'too long' for her to wait for him.

This put Y/n in a bad situation, literally, as he had declined the company's offer of moving to South Korea , and figuratively, as he was mentally fucked up from that emotional abuse.

Y/n ran towards the organizers, calling them frantically and asking if there was a way for the offer to be reinstated, and much to his surprise, they gladly took him back in and got his ass on a flight the next day.

He didn't realize it yet, or maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself, but he had already started missing South Korea. He boarded the plane, his phone constantly vibrating as his (now ex) girlfriend kept calling and texting him asking for forgiveness, but he didn't pay her no mind as he shut his phone off and smiled while watching the plane take off.

Y/n landed after what was a surprisingly calming 14 hour flight and got picked up by a chauffeur from the company, who took him back to the place he had called home up until a few days ago.

The first few nights were rough, as tears were shed and all the negative feelings Y/n had been suppressing started becoming too much to handle.

Y/n had never been one to drink alcohol, as he believed the negative aspects and especially the hangover were too much to be outweighed by a quick night of fun, yet something moved him to go to a bar that night. He dressed up, putting on a loose fitting white dress shirt, leaving the top three buttons upon as he was wearing a chain, some black trousers and finally, some black loafers.

It was a warm summer night in Seoul, adults and teenagers still outside even though it was getting late. The sun was just setting, the streets were lively and it seemed like every single light that could have been on at the time was on. Y/n drove through the city, music blasting in his car as he sighed. He still didn't understand how his life had turned out like this, he didn't get why reality had hit him like that all of a sudden, but his thoughts were soon swept away as his GPS announced his arrival at the destination.

The bar was full, about what one would expect of a bar in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world during a summer night. The smell of alcohol and nicotine paired with sweat and sex stung in Y/n's nostrils as he walked through the bar, dodging drunk men hitting on women and waitresses bringing customers their drinks. Music blasted through the speakers, fueling the lust that was oozing out of every pore inside the building.

"That money is the only thing I'm chasin'

And some dope dimes on some coke lines

Gimme head all night, cum four times

Baby girl just wanna smoke a pound

Do an ounce, get some dick, tell her friends about it"

"One Lemon Vodka Cocktail please", Y/n told the bartender as he sat down.

"Go tell your friends about it

Go tell your friends about it

Go tell 'em what you know, what you seen

How I roll, how I get it on the low"

"I'll have the same thing he ordered please", a voice suddenly interrupted the music.

Y/n looked to his right and saw a woman who he could only describe as angel like. She had long, dark brown hair and wore a short black skirt which stopped a bit above her knees paired with a black vest blazer that exposed her toned stomach. She had very subtle make up on and her red lipstick accentuated her plump lips. She smiled at Y/n showing her bunny like teeth as she turned her body towards Y/n and held the side of her face with one arm, which was propped up on the table in front of them.

"You have good taste in drinks", she began.

"Thank you. I don't really like alcohol, though. I usually don't drink.", he answered.

"Oh really ? What's the special occasion then ?"

"Just need to lay my mind off some things.", he responded vaguely.

"Oh I get that. I normally don't drink either but I felt like I needed something to relieve my stress.", she replied while sipping her drink.

"What's gotten you all pent up ? Is it work related or something else ?", he asked her.

"Definitely work. I just feel so frustrated all the time and I'm still unsure about whether or not I'm gonna make it and it's just so draining, mentally and physically."

"Hey, relax. Take a deep breath. I'm here.", Y/n said while grabbing her shoulder. The woman had started tearing up and it was clear that whatever it is that was bothering her, it was taking a toll on her.

"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking ? You look pretty young and I don't think it's normal for people our age to be this stressed.", he asked her after buying her another drink.

"Oh I'm 20. How old are you ? You look pretty young yourself.", she answered while wiping away the tears from before.

"I'm 18. That means you're my noona, right? Sorry I'm pretty new to the country and the honorifics sometimes mess me up.", he said.

The woman blushed at the honorific before nodding.

The two young adults talked for hours, not even realizing how late it was getting as their conversation blended out all outside noises. Not a single tone of the continuous onslaught of R&B music being blasted nor the loud laughter of girls gossiping with their friends.

"Oh shit it's already 11 o'clock I should be going home", the woman said while frantically taking her things and throwing some bills next to her drink.

Y/n got up and walked behind her, seeing her take out her phone and making a call.

"FUCK I don't have any data to call anyone.", She said while kicking an empty beer can on the floor.

"Do you want me to drive you ? My car is right there", Y/n said while walking up to her.

"Oh no I don't want to bother you, I live halfway across the city..", she answered while looking down.

"I-I could take you to my place then if you want? It's not that far away and I can sleep on the couch.", Y/n said while blushing

"And here I thought I was forward, at least take me on a date first", she jokingly said while hitting his shoulder

"No but in all seriousness, I don't want you going through Seoul all alone at night."

"Wow such a gentleman, how could I possibly refuse such an offer, then", she said while smiling and walking with him to his car.

The pair soon drove away as Y/n's new friend quickly took control of the aux and started playing a few pop songs by what Y/n got to know as Kpop group F(x).

The duo soon arrived at their destination as Y/n opened the lock and walked in with the woman walking behind him while looking around.

His house was designed in a minimalist aesthetic. A white kitchen , white living room with one big couch, a large television and a nice rug with a coffee table on if. He had plants distributed evenly across the different areas of the living space, giving it a nice and cozy atmosphere. Y/n walked further into the house as the woman soon heard an almost timid meow coming from what she assumed to be the master bedroom. The door opened and out came a small black kitten which walked between Y/n's legs and started nuzzling it's head against his head.

She picked the kitten up and started babying it, giving it lots of kisses before Y/n suddenly spoke up.

"This is the room you'll be sleeping in for the night. You can just pick out any of my clothes to sleep in. Theres a bathroom at the end of the corridor where you can shower and I'll be in the living room if you need anything.", he said before closing the door and walking away.

The woman picked out a comfortable looking sweatshirt and a pair of joggers before walking into his bathroom. She immediately noted how clean it was, she saw an assortment of different colognes and a towel which looked like it could fit two of her, before walking into the shower and letting the warm water fall on her, relaxing all the sore muscles. She let out a sigh of relief before continuing to wash herself.

After showering and doing a reduced version of her night routine, she laid herself down on the bed and tried to sleep. Keyword tried. She tossed and turned but something just wasn't right. She thought a bit about it, and she quickly realized it was Y/n. She wasn't blind, she thought he was handsome, cute even. He was a great conversation partner, he wasn't a drunk idiot unlike the other men in that bar, he wasn't hitting on her in a way that made her uncomfortable and he even was so kind to offer her a place to stay for the night. She didn't want to admit it to herself as she thought it was ridiculous that she could fall for someone she met only 5 hours ago but here she was, laying in his bed, wearing his clothes, in his house.

"Fuck it I'm sick of this shit", she thought to herself before walking out of the room and seeing Y/n peacefully sleeping on the couch

"He's pretty", she whispered out loud.

She slowly crept towards his laying figure before opening the blanket and sliding into his sleeping figure, an action that didn't go unnoticed by him as he began to wake up.

"What the- Oh did you need something?", he asked her while slowly sitting up.

"It was getting lonely there", she replied.

"Oh I'm sorry. I could've given you my kitten if you-"

"Just shut up and kiss me already", she interrupted him before closing the distance and finally doing what she felt she should've done at the bar already.

The kiss was a bit awkward at first as Y/n was still too stunned at the situation to realize what was happening but after a few seconds he started kissing back. He moved her to his lap, putting his hands on her ass as he slowly smiled into the kiss. The pair continued until they forcefully separated due to lack of oxygen.

"I should've done that at the bar already"

They looked at each other and smiled before leaning in and kissing each other once more. Y/n switched their positions, grabbing the woman by her waist and laying her down, with him on top of her. He continued kissing her as his mouth soon moved lower and he started sucking on her neck.

"Pl-please no hick-eys. I-I don't want to have to sp-spend time covering-ah covering them up", she said while closing her eyes as he attacked her sweet spot. He nodded before making quick work of her- of his sweatshirt and throwing it somewhere on the floor. His lips and hands continued traveling further down her body as he saw the lack of a bra. Y/n toyed with her sensitive nipples, he pinched one while sucking on the other before switching.

The moonlight illuminated the living room as he saw the trail of saliva tracing his path down her body. Her eyes were still shut down while her back arched and her mouth was open, continuously letting out small whimpers and moans as Y/n worked around her body. He went further down, slowly kissing down her flat stomach before stopping at the waistband of the joggers. He looked up at her as she nodded, understanding that he was waiting for her consent, before he slowly took them off, throwing them too into the pile if clothing that now housed his shirt too. Y/n looked at her panties, the lacy red pair having an obvious wet spot right in the center, before taking them off and immediately diving in.

She tasted sweet. It was addicting. He slurped her up like water, drinking every single drop like he had been stranded in a desert. The woman cried out in pleasure as she grabbed a fistful of Y/n's hair and pressed him further into her hot core. Her back arched even more as her thighs pressed against the sides of Y/n's head. Her legs shook, her toes curled and her mouth drooled as her body completely shut down and exploded back to live all within a few seconds as her first orgasm of the night hit her like a bullet and shook her to her core.

Her juices dripped down the sides of her thighs and down to her asshole as Y/n frantically licked every spot he could find clean as to not waste a single drop of his equivalent to the elixir of life.

Her breaths grew heavier as she tried to calm down from her high. She sat up, looking hungrily at her lover as she noticed the obvious, painful looking bulge in his pants. She kneeled between his legs, her pussy juices dripping down onto the floor, and started to take his pants off. He was soon left with only his boxers before she took them off too and got hit with his cock as it sprang onto her forehead.

"I definitely should have made a move on you earlier", she said before leaning forward and taking the tip into her mouth.

She licked around the base, having to adjust a bit as she had never worked with something that big before, before diving in and taking a couple of inches down her throat. Her throat was tight, her tongue and throat muscles working expertly together as she started milking him dry. She continued laying on the pleasure as she jerked the part, which didn't fit in her mouth, in a circular motion while also playing with his heavy balls. She continued her oral attack for a few minutes before taking his member out of her mouth with a satisfying pop and standing up.

She sat on his lap before standing up a bit and guiding his large penis into her tight and awaiting pussy. She slowly inserted the tip before slowly squatting and taking it inch by inch. Her hands locked around his neck, pressing his head into her chest as she bit her lip while trying to get used to his large size filling her to the brim. She took a few moments before slowly moving her hips, riding him expertly in a circular motion.

She moved her hips, mimicking a belly dancer as she now stopped trying to contain her moans. She let out heavy breathy noises, which coupled with Y/n's groans and moans as he put his hands onto her ass, squeezing it and using it to guide her around his dick. The room was filled with wet slapping noises as her soaked vagina slammed down on his hard cock. The pair continued their make out session as the kisses turned from passionate to lustful, tongues battling for dominance as it was now unsure whether their top or bottom connection was wetter.

Y/n pounded into her as their hips moved in sync, his lap drenched in her juices as she had came twice while on top of him. He attacked her breasts again, making her moan and scream for him to fuck her harder and faster. He slapped her ass, asscheeks recoiling and moving like a wave hitting a quiet mass of water as he felt himself getting closer and closer. Her walls tightened around him as her orgasm approached once more. She shut her eyes close as they rolled into the back of her head, her thighs quivering and squeezing against Y/n's torso. She clamped around him, gripping him tightly as her muscles contracted around his dick. He throbbed and throbbed while she moaned in his ear that he could bust inside, before he reached his limit and let everything go, shooting thick spurts into her stomach.

They stayed in that position, hugging each other, until both of them passed out from exhaustion.

Y/n woke up the following morning with a bit of a sore lower body, confused as he didn't feel someone on top of him. He stood up, checking the bedroom and the bathroom before walking back and noticing a small note on top of the coffee table.

"Dear Y/n,

yes, I did get your name from your ID inside your wallet but don't worry I didn't take anything ;)

I wanted to thank you, for both the best night of my life (I'm still feeling sore :( ) and for being such a kind person. I was pretty down yesterday, and the stress was really getting to me, but you truly helped with that, and for that I want to thank you.

Sadly, I had to leave you early due to work and as much as I would've loved to stay in your arms (you look pretty while sleeping) I decided to leave so my boss doesn't fire me.

I hope you understand and aren't mad at me.

Love xoxo"

He read the note over and over again, looking for one particular piece of information before giving up on the tenth read and realizing he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

He did not get her name. He did not get her phone number. He met the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and had no chance to see her again.

-- time skip --

Eight years.

It had been eight years since what was now known as Y/n's greatest experience ever. He had gone out every weekend. Every weekend going around Seoul in the hopes of finding her again. He had slept with a lot of people in the hopes of finding someone to replace her with but to no success.

The sex with her was amazing but with anyone else it was just alright. They had gone all night but no one else had been able to make him feel the same way she did.

While planning another one of his trips, Y/n suddenly got a call from one of his closest friends.

"Y/N STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING RIGHT NOW", his friend screamed at him through the phone.

"Why-"

"DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING PLANNED TOMORROW?", he continued

"I'm going to the gym in the morning but other than that-"

"CANCEL EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW"

"I don't have anything to cancel-"

"I SAID CANCEL EVERYTHING"

"Alright fine damn but whats the occasion? Are you getting married?"

"BETTER, I GOT US TWO FRONT ROW TICKETS FOR THE TWICE CONCERT-"

"I don't even like Kpop like that-"

"YOU ARE COMING WITH ME. BE READY AT 4 o'clock TOMORROW. BYE", and with that he hung up.

"What have I gotten myself into", Y/n thought to himself before going to the kitchen and getting something to eat.

The morning soon came once again as Y/n left to go to the gym. He had heard of TWICE, of course, everyone had. But he didn't get Kpop like many of his friends did. He had a few groups that he liked but to him the industry was a very weird and toxic place, a place in which idols are seen as objects to fuel parasocial relationships and get money off of them, but then again, he had been sleeping around Seoul in the hopes of finding a woman he had met eight years ago so maybe he wasn't in the greatest position to talk about healthy relationships.

Time flew by as he was now walking with his friend around the venue, his friend deciding now would be a good idea to give him a rundown of the last eight years of TWICE's career until (thankfully) someone interrupted him as they tapped Y/n's shoulder.

"Excuse me, I saw you from a bit away and I thought you were really handsome. I wanted to ask if I could maybe get your number?", a girl asked him.

She wore a black bucket hat and a mask, black tight fitting jeans which gave a great look on her plump ass and a black turtleneck under a big black leather coat. Y/n didn't know what it was but her voice reminded him of someone, he just didn't know who.

"Oh yeah sure. Here's my phone, just type it in and send me a message to see if its good", he said while smiling down to her.

She took his phone off of him and started typing before giving it back to him. His phone vibrated soon after that as he saw the notification.

Nay❤️

Hey handsome <3

"Seems like everything worked, I'll talk to you later then. Have fun on the concert, handsome", she said before quickly getting on her toes, lovering her mask and kissing him on his cheek.

"How the fuck do you do it ,Y/n? This shit ain't fair you didn't even have to do anything! Show me you moves please-", his friend started pestering him as they walked towards their seats.

The show wouldn't start for another hour and a half so Y/n decided to text Nay in the meantime. The two went back and forth, teasing and flirting until she asked him to meet up after the show.

Nay❤️

I'm actually staying here until Monday morning. Would you like to meet up tonight ? I can send you my hotel address and room number. I'd really like to get to know you a bit more without, you know, so many people around us

And with that he had a plan for after the show.

The wait soon stopped as lights went out and a loud tune could be heard from across the venue. Y/n quickly recognized it as the opening chords to TWICE's TT. The girls stepped out, all looking gorgeous as they waved around at the fans. Y/n looked at each of them until his eyes fell on one girl and a sudden realization hit him.

Eight years ago he had fucked Nayeon. As in Im Nayeon. As in he had spent almost a decade going after an idol whom he had fucked once before she had debuted. Then it all clicked. The reason why she was so stressed was because of training. The reason why she didn't want any hickeys was because she couldn't be seen with them without getting in trouble. The reason she had to leave sooner was because she needed to be at her dorm for practice.

His eyes widened as everything suddenly made sense. Y/n looked back at the stage flabbergasted before realizing Nayeon was looking at him with a sly smirk on her face, as if she had read his thoughts. She waved at him, blowing a kiss and winking as the person behind him thought they had their main character moment.

"DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT NAYEON TOTALLY WINKED AT ME?????"

The concert went over quickly as Y/n's friend screamed his voice out while chanting the girls' names. Y/n had fun too, even though he spent most of his time looking at Nayeon. The two friends soon parted ways as Y/n got into his car and drove to the location Nay had sent him.

Y/n arrived at the hotel, noticing how luxurious it was as he made his way through security and told the receptionist that someone was expecting him.

He rode the elevator up until the final floor as his hands started getting sweaty. The last eight years had led up to this, he had looked for her ever since he was 18, he was 25 now and he couldn't believe it. One thing was for sure, though. He had let her go once and he sure as fuck wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He got to the door, checking his messages five times over to make sure the numbers matched up but there was nothing wrong. Room 2010, this was it.

He knocked on the door three times and it was as if every movement was in slow motion. He waited. Nothing happened. He waited again. Nothing happened. Just as he was about to knock again the door opened and he was suddenly pulled inside, all he could hear was the sound of the door closing and locking in record speed.

He looked around before noticing a smaller person with a large head of brown hair crash into him and hug him. He looked down and just as he was about to say something the person crashed their lips against his. It was a familiar feeling, a familiar taste. Cherries and a slight hint of vanilla. He was sure it was her.

The kiss continued for what felt like an eternity until both of them were forcibly pulled apart due to lack of oxygen.

Y/n looked down, panting heavily before seeing the bunny teeth he had been so desperately searching for the past eight years of his life. He broke out into a huge grin as the person in fron of him broke out into tears and hugged him.

"Hey, relax. Take a deep breath. I'm here. And I'm not leaving anymore.", he said, having major deja vu feelings.

"I'm so sorry for leaving you without a name or number it's just that-"

"Dating bans and whatnot, I understand Nay. Don't stress it", Y/n interrupted her while hugging her.

"I have been searching for you for the past eight years Y/n. You can't imagine how happy I was once I recognized your handsome face in the crowd during our concert."

"I've been looking for you the past eight years too Nay. You wouldn't believe the lengths I've gone to to try and find you but all I found was disappointment.", he said while laughing lightly.

The two sat in silence on the bed, Nayeon laying her head on his shoulder as he rubbed circles along her back. She finally had him back in her arms and she knew one thing. She wasn't letting him go this time.

Nayeon looked up from his shoulder, seeing him smile while looking at her , before she did what she wanted to do every day for the past eight years and kissed him. The kiss was different than the one before. It was raw, it was full of emotions, it was full of sorrow, full of pain, full of regret. It was an accumulation of everything she had wanted to give him for damn near a decade.

The pair kissed. They took breaks to catch their breath and then kissed again. The kissing soon led to making out as Y/n fell back on his back and Nayeon attacked his neck, sucking on it hard as if she wanted to mark her territory. She played with his hair with one hand while the other palmed his growing bulge. Her hands found their way towards the bottom of his shirt, ripping it off his head as she trailed down his muscular body, licking across his abs and sending shivers down his spine. Nayeon then took off his belt, throwing it away and pulling down his pants and underwear in one swift motion

His erect penis sprung at her, hitting her in the face once more just like it had all those years ago. She immediately took him inside her throat, inch by inch, as she coated most of the length with a layer of saliva. She did the combo once more, stroking his shaft with her hands while fondling his balls before she was suddenly picked up and felt her tights and panties being ripped open. She then felt a wet tongue entering her pussy as her eyes rolled back and she backed up into Y/n's face, using him as a seat. She grinded on his tongue, riding it expertly as he ate her out like she was his last meal while she was ecstatic.

Nayeon's suite was filled with wet noises as Y/n ate her soaked pussy out, it was filled with moans as she screamed his name and creamed on his face, it was then filled with slurping noises as she bent down and sucked his dick again until it was finally filled with a high pitched scream as Nayeon's body shuddered, her thighs closing in against Y/n's head and her pussy released it's sweet juices on his face.

Nayeon fell to the side, wanting to catch her breath, but Y/n had other plans. He picked the idol by her waist, positioning her over his cock as he plunged his thick cock inside her slippery super soaker. She gripped his dick immediately, not letting him ago as the tip continuously hit her weak spot, her walls tightening around him as he felt every single fiber of her sex muscle. She bit his shoulder, leaving bite marks across his anterior and posterior deltoid as she came on his dick once more, forming a big puddle on her bed sheets. He grabbed her ass as support before using it to slam her down while thrusting into her, occasionally slapping her ass cheeks leaving them bright red in comparison to her pale skin. One hand went down as he started playing with her sensitive clit, while the other continued on her ass for support before he changed that, too, and used it to play with her nipples.

Nayeon soon started throwing it back on his cock, twerking on it as she showed him how her hips moved, before she felt a familiar feeling of her orgasm approaching, making her squirt her juices on Y/n's muscular body. He continued relentlessly fucking her as he felt his end nearing, dick throbbing as his thrusts got sloppier and he focussed on hitting as deep as possible. Nayeon moaned into his ear, once more telling him to come inside, as he stroked for one last time before burying himself deeply inside her tight snatch and unloading every last drop of cum he had stored in his balls, holding her tight to make sure she got every last drop inside her.

The pair soon collapsed, as a large pool of sperm started oozing out of Nayeon's pussy while she sighed in a satisfied way. Y/n turned to his side, looking Nayeon deep into the eyes as he started speaking.

"You know, I never realized you were an idol until a few hours ago."

"I know. It surprised me back then already. Our survival show was already being published and you didn't recognize me at all. It was one of the big reasons why I trusted you like I did."

"I feel like we have so much to talk about, Nayeon. You're so gorgeous, I'm not letting you go. Not again."

"Who knew you were a hopeless romantic, Y/n"

"And here I was trying to give compliments"

"Pabo I love you too. I'm not letting you go either. I don't trust the women in this city. Did you see how many of our fans were eye fucking you at the concert? I can't let that happen. This dick and the person it's attached to are property of Im Nayeon and Im Nayeon only."

She stood up while laughing, limping slowly towards the bathroom before tuning around and speaking again.

"You know, we could shower together, save water costs and what not?", Nayeon said while pointing behind her.

"I don't think we'll be saving any water but I'll gladly join you."

#kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpopfap #idol x male reader #kpop x male reader #x male reader #male reader #twice nayeon #twice smut #nayeon x reader

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marypaol · 2 months

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Piano Boy

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader’s parents were invited to a meeting at the Malfoy Manor, and while exploring alone, she finds Draco playing the piano.

Warnings: Mentions of stress, carrying family burdens, numbness, sadness, nothing much just fluffy :)

Note: No use of Y/N-And also I had to write this one I totally picture Draco playing piano! 🫶🏻

___

Her feet softly patted across the floor, the fabric of her smooth dress surrounding both her and the floor as she made her way to an undecided destination. She went wherever her brain decided, since whenever she came across a corner she would randomly decide which to go: left, right, straight, or back where she came from.

She would never go back, though, but the thought of it being an option made her feel free. For the reason of never going back would prevent her from discovering more, for going back would only make her retrace her steps and see things she’s already seen.

A soft smile laid on her lips, for no apparent reason yet deep down she felt like it was because she felt content at the moment. And her and Merlin knew that it’s been a while since she felt so, the stress from school and burdens from her family heavy on her shoulders.

But all that changed when Mrs. Malfoy invited her family to tea, having a business meeting with her parents but they encouraged her to “wonder around” as if she was a little kid and they wanted to keep her busy. It worked, nonetheless, since her curiosity and wondrous mind got the best of her most of the time. She couldn’t help but smile as a way to say ‘excuse me, while I go explore.’

So she did so, practically skipping out of the room once she was out of sight, mind already spinning on possibilities of things she could see, could touch, (despite that voice she knew would be in her head telling her not to do so) and could think.

What kind things would be in the Malfoy Manor? Would everything be gloomy and mysterious like she assumed, or would things be darkly beautiful, calling her name to come closer until she found some evil chamber that revealed their cruel plans for the world of magic?

I hope not, though I assume they wouldn’t ever do that, she thought. She believed at that moment that the thought was just something that her mind was trying to make her think to make her afraid. But it wasn’t the time to be scared, it was the time to feel adventurous and free to whatever she wanted while her parents talked away on things she couldn’t understand.

Her eyes wondered along the walls, scanning over all the paintings displayed, eyes moving quickly because she wanted to soak everything in. She somehow feared that any time her parents would turn around the corner, telling her that it was time to depart, and she would no longer be able to look, so she took the time she had to admire everything possible.

She ended up stopping abruptly at a certain painting, hanging apart from the others and the table below it holding flowers in a vase as well as a tiny lamp for decoration, the soft light flickering a little bit, providing some sort of comfort to her, the lamp lighting up the painting in the most precious way.

What was the painting of, you may ask? The Malfoys, of course. But that wasn’t what stopped her, some normal family painting in their house. For it was the boy, the one that was one between the two adults, the one that actually had a smile on his face, despite the many snarls that beheld his lips in the past years she’s known him.

But the reason for the smile in the painting was because he was young, his face babyish as his pale cheeks scrunched up because of his mouth stretch of a smile. It made her heart warm at the sight of him, showing a smile that no one really got to see, which was a misfortune for the rest of the school; they deserve to see something so beautiful. His smile was so wonderfully painted, like the painter knew it was something that wasn’t shown often and they wanted to highlight every aspect of it, every beauty piece; which was every part of it. The paint brush strokes on the painting were so delicate, her fingertips brushing over the texture of the paint beneath them, running over his green robes he was wearing. (She would touch the smile she loved so dearly but the painting was far too big, making her wonder how long they had to stand there for the painter to paint them, it must have taken so long.)

But as she looked on, she noticed that there was more family paintings for years that came and went, each one Draco’s face forming into the snarl he held today, each one his lips dipping deeper and deeper into a frown that seemed to permanently take over his facial features. She frowned herself as she walked, watching as pure happiness changed to fake happiness, to slight distraught, to numbness.

As her feet stopped at the most recent one, the one with the least amount of dust on the frame, the frown on her lips dipped so deep she could feel her cheeks hurting from the in normal movement. She knew he was slowly pulled away from pride and accomplishment, thinking back on watching in the Great Hall as his happiness slowly left him, something else, something darker, taking over his chest and taking home there for years to come. Her own chest hurt, thinking about the pain he must be in.

“He’s just a boy.”

She overhead Mrs. Malfoy saying that, not remembering when but sure that she felt just as bad for Draco as the girl did. In fact worse, he’s her son after all and she’s just a classmate that was in the same House as he was. She was sure he knew her name, he seemed to know every Slytherin’s name for the benefit of it, but they’ve rarely talked.

But she knew a lot about him just by sight and noise. But she wished to get to know the real image, not the fake image of his personality, before sadness took over his chest and before the frown took home on his lips.

She wished to know him.

Draco.

It was at that moment, that she heard soft music, piano, if you will, softly playing as if a quiet record was playing behind a closed door, as background noise to listen to to help one focus on something else that her thoughts were interrupted and the frown left her lips, replaced with a confused yet curious look.

She could no longer focus on the painting and thoughts running through her head, however, since the music distracted her from the gentle paint strokes in the frame on the wall.

Her feet stepped away from the wall, her knees hurting slightly from standing there so long thinking about the son of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.

The music was very soft she could barely tell where it was coming from, her ears almost playing tricks on her from using them so purely. She then noticed how it was around the corner, so her feet took her there, coming in contact with a emerald door, mostly closed leaving just a crack of light from

it being open slightly, the straight line casting on the floor beneath her giving her legs some warmth.

She knew the music was coming from inside the room, the soft keys being pressed so gently-almost hesitantly- as the unknown person played.

She leaned in closer subconsciously, ear angled toward the crack so she could hear the song at its best.

To her horror surprise, her head dropped a little too far and pumped into the door, forcing it open, more light blinding her as she stumbled in, skipping over her own feet. The piano instantly stopped playing, the last note abruptly ending as the person’s fingers quickly brought themselves up off the keys.

Her head snapped up to see the wondrous player that left her tranced to the room she was mistakenly standing in, to find the last person she thought would be playing the piano secretly while his parents talked to hers about business, using words neither of them would understand.

Her eyes widened at the sight. Draco was sitting on the bench, on an all black suit-even the tie was black- and pale hair pointing to and fro, like he was running his fingers through the strands that sat on his head.

His lips formed in both a surprised and annoyed snarl.

“What are you doing here? Poking around I see?”

On her part, she could unhesitatingly say that he sounded very irritated at the disturbance.

She swallowed her throat dry but spoke nonetheless.

“Yes- I mean no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bother. My parents said-“

“Your parents?” He said, interrupting her despite hes annoyance towards her when she did the same thing to him just moments prior. “Your parents are here?”

She was taken back both by being cut off and his confusion.

“Yes, why didn’t you know?”

Draco shook his head, locks swaying. “Does it look like I did?”

It was her turn to shake her head, looking around the room. It was gorgeous, just like the other rooms on the house but this one had a sense of comfort and melody; very fitting for a music room.

She looked over at him, and his hand was still on the keys, fingers fiddling with it like he had an urge to continue playing.

She found herself walking towards the instrument, leaning her elbows on it as her skirt fell into place at her ankles, the material cool against her tired legs.

She gazed at him as he watched her every move, wondering why she was still here when he clearly gave her signs he didn’t want to have company.

“Did you know that pianos are considered a member of the percussion family?” She asked gently, a soft smile on her lips.

His eyes glanced at hers before looking back at the white and black keys, fingers playing a melody that wasn’t a part of what he was playing earlier.

“No, I didn’t know that.” He mumbled, not seeming so annoyed anymore.

She smiled a little wider. “While now you do.” She said, careful not to leave fingerprints on the what looked like the freshly polished piano.

Draco noticed her slight discomfort, one because of her body weight switching from foot to foot, and two the simple movement of her doing so distracted him from the instrument in front of him.

He scooted over, hand patting the seat as she smiled, walking over slowly and sliding onto the emerald cushioned piano bench beside him.

She then watched as his fingers effortlessly played the instrument, his hands gliding across the keys as if it was water and he was pouring it into a glass, controlling ever drop so it wouldn’t spill everywhere. He had so much control over it, everything he told the instrument to do it would do it without another word.

She couldn’t help but admire, slightly dazed as his long fingers took over the once sitting in silence keys. The music flowed from it, the beauty of the music was all coming from his hands, and that amazed her.

He stopped, playing something that was a part if the song she just heard, and apparently it was incorrect despite it sounding wonderful, and he mumbled something under his breath out of frustration.

“I think it sounded exquisite, Draco. I didn’t know you knew how to play the piano.” She complimented, looking up at him.

His fingers halted their movements from the unexpected commentary and she took the opportunity to place her own hands on the keys, pressing whichever ones she desired and listened as the note came about into the air, spawning to life for her and his ears to hear.

His fingers came into her view, stopping her from doing anything else, and both confusion and hurt poured over her, wondering if she only annoyed him further.

It wasn’t until she felt the soft presence of his other arm around her, his other hand landing on hers as he placed her fingers on the keys accordingly.

“There.” He spoke soft, almost right into her ear and a deep flush washed over her, starting at the tops of her hair strands to her cheeks, deep in her chest, and straight down to her toes.

She then felt his fingers pressing down hers so she could play what he was playing. She smiled slightly, but the concentration on trying not to separate their fingers was the main goal on her mind at the moment.

Once the last note rang in the air, and his foot let off the petal beneath their feet, his hands left hers as his presence left her, and a cold wave flushed over her, leaving her wanting his touch back more than ever.

Silence took over for a couple seconds before she heard the music once again, this time a different song, and her eyes watched as he played.

The song sounded sad, like someone was deep into a headspace they couldn’t leave and was trying to find the light.

Her head dropped slowly, her temple landing on his shoulder, which tensed for a moment before getting used to the feeling of touch.

The soft music and his unique scent took over her, her eyes closing as she unwillingly took the time to rest.

It may have been her imagination, part of her dreams whirling with real life, but she thought she felt another head lay on hers in response, a soft smile stretching on her lips.

-Thanks for reading!

Ich liebe dich! 🩵🤍

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sandersstudies · 4 months

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Other people have said it more eloquently than me, but my theory is that Hobbits don’t actually age “slower” than humans, they just are generally in excellent health and that leads to their culture shifting milestone years to be later than humans.

“Old Took himself only lived to be 130” would suggest that this is a very impressive old age for hobbits. Bilbo, partially with the help of the ring, lives to 131 before sailing west. Otho Sackville-Baggins dies of old age at 102. 102 is an impressive age for a human to live to, but far from unheard of, and current predictions suggest we will see a human live to be 130 within this century.

Hobbits are considered adults at age 33. Human age of majority varies worldwide (in North America, even by state/province/etc.) from <15-22 based on what legal privileges it offers, but 18 and 21 are generally good milestones. I got curious about whether high age of majority correlated with longer lifespan and I found little correlation with the ages of 18 and 21 because they are so common and cover a wide array of local average lifespans, but if you eliminate those two and look at counties where age of majority is 15, 16, 17, 19, and 20, there’s a direct correlation between age of majority and lifespan.

Worldwide, life expectancy is 72.27. Let’s say hobbit life expectancy is 100 (if there’s canon evidence to suggest this is low or high, let me know). 100/72.27=~1.38

18x1.38=24.84

21x1.38=28.98.

If we can round that to 29, we are already inching toward that Hobbit coming of age 33. Their lifestyle and relative societal safety can probably account for the final four years, as well as Hobbit appreciation for aesthetic numbers (33 looks better than 32 and 34).

50 is considered the beginning of Hobbit middle-age, and if you’re familiar with healthy, hardy people in their fifties, this is actually pretty reasonable. My dad is 52 and still plays hockey and bartends in a demanding restaurant. I think he would be about as (physically) up to a journey to Mordor as Frodo is at age 50.

Tolkien spoke very little about Hobbit marriage customs, but assuming they are fertile creatures, 33 leaves more than enough time to raise children, even using the human average age of menopause at 51 (and think how this compares to Hobbit middle-age).

I’m no expert, I just looked at a lot of Wikipedia pages, but I’m vastly in favor of the idea that Pippin isn’t “the equivalent of a human teenager” in terms of something biological, but in terms of something cultural. In a society with long lifespans and relative safety from war, famine, and other dangers, it’s totally reasonable that 20-somethings are allowed to hold onto childhood/adolescence a little longer than in a society where war and danger forces children to mature and work at a younger age.

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piratefishmama · 1 year

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Prompt being this post about daycare worker Eddie and Single Parent Steve right here

Eddie was a professional. He couldn’t flirt with the kids parents, especially since he didn’t actually know which ones would be interested in him. Single fathers were always kind of… 50/50 in terms of whether or not they’d be into another guy, so Eddie was pretty comfortable not flirting with parents.

Until Steve Harrington.

Little Ellie, or Nora, or Eleanor depending on the brand of shenanigan that she’d gotten up to during the day, had been going to Tiny Terrors Day-Care for a little over four months now after the parent and child had moved into town a week before she’d joined them. Eddie had met Steve twice. Once, where Ellie had spectacularly ran head first into a door pretending to be a T-Rex, and the second time, was when Robbie, a little shit, pulled her pretty pig tails out and ran off with her hair ties.

They had little green T-Rex charms on them, Eddie had never seen such a thing before, it turned out they were custom made by one of her uncles. Priceless treasures basically.

She hadn’t done anything to Robbie, no. Robbie was four and just acting out. The five-year-old knew better than to hurt Robbie, no. After she’d gotten her hair ties back, she, with an impressive amount of force, booted one of the helpers directly in the shin, when said helper suggested Robbie must have just had a crush on her.

Physical violence had been paired with her furious little voice demanding they never tell girls that boys hurting them means they have a crush, cause her daddy said that’s the dumbest thing ever. Boys shouldn’t hurt girls!! And nobody should be excusing boys hurting girls!!

It was a pretty spectacular verbal beat down for a five-year-old to be giving a grown adult, Eddie didn’t actually have anything bad to say to her about it either. He just had to tell Steve that she’d injured one of the staff, because… protocol.

Steve had given her a high five and promised her ice cream when he’d found out why. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him.

It was fine. Totally fine, he’d only seen him twice and he’d managed to contain his urge to flirt even with Steve looking at him in a way that could definitely be construed as interest. He didn’t want to assume, assumptions could lead to chaos and chaos didn’t belong in the lives of toddlers.

So, he was pretty sure that he’d be fine for the easter hunt.

Steve had RSVP’d that he would be attending with Ellie when the little newsletter went out about it, since wherever he worked was closed for the holiday, Eddie had… understandably freaked out a little, but he’d done it in the office.

Away from the staff. Away from the kids. He’d be fine to witness Steve being a great dad for the day. Totally fine. He’d had his little freak out, he was fine to spend the morning of their little hunt hiding eggs with the staff, definitely not feeling his nerves skyrocketing at the idea of Steve helping little Ellie find them later.

They weren’t real eggs, oh no, definitely not real eggs. They were hiding little colourful plastic eggs, each colour holding a value, so the more plastic eggs you found, the bigger your easter haul could be! It wasn’t just eggs either, they had cakes, cool prizes, sweets, and other things donated to the day care for the kids by members of the community, someone had donated a bike for crying out loud. It was silver and gold and had removable stabilizers, totally gender neutral so any kid could enjoy it without it being too girly or too boyish.

They’d hidden a golden egg for the bike. It was extra hard to find.

Eddie had hidden it personally under the roots of an old tree stump just beyond the tree line, in a little hollow half hidden by moss and foliage. The other eggs just hidden around the park. The only reason he’d hidden it beyond the treeline, was because the parents would be looking with the kids. No child would be going beyond that tree line without their parents present.

So, with all the eggs hidden, some a little more obvious than others, Eddie and the rest of the staff waited for their attendees, who slowly began trickling in sometime around noon. The hunt was supposed to start at one, and Eddie was definitely not craning his head side to side, searching through the rapidly growing crowd of parents and children for that specific dynamic duo, he absolutely wasn—

“Eddie!!” Eddie’s eyes snapped to the left just in time to catch his favourite, even if he wasn’t supposed to pick favourites, tiny terror, Ellie, just before she’d have bulldozed into his legs. He hoisted her up and into his arms with a pleased little,

“Elliesaurus Rex!!”

“Quick, tell daddy that the shirt looks fine!” Eddie found himself focusing beyond her at the request, finding his smile growing wider at the dressed down Steve Harrington, wearing an incredibly stupid Hawaiian shirt that didn’t even remotely look like it belonged to him, and a pair of quarter length jeans rolled a little further up his calves and sandals fuck.

The shirt was baggy enough to hide what would no doubt be an absolutely spectacular rear fitted snugly into those jeans though, sadly enough.

“The shirt looks fine.” He parroted with a mischievous grin, a grin that widened as Steve rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully.

“It’s laundry day, the only clean shirt I had was something my old man ‘passed down’ to me, I… don’t usually wear this sort of thing.” There was a story there, Eddie wanted to hear it. Maybe some other time though.

“You look good in it! It suits you” honestly a garbage bag would suit Steve Harrington, it wasn’t fair how pretty that man was.

“It does not” Steve laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in such a way that Eddie had to internally remind himself that he should not flirt with the parents of the kids. Definitely don’t do that. “You though—you uh… I like the uhm… the apron.” Eddie’s eyes widened a fraction, before he looked down at himself, sure enough, he’d left his apron on. The one still covered in dried paint hand prints and dirt. “The dirt looks good on your knees too.” Aaand the dirt on his knees from where he’d been kneeling down in the grass.

“Haaa-hah, we can’t all look like we just stepped off a run way in Hawaiian chic, Mr. Harrington” Eddie definitely didn’t think he was imagining the soft rosy hue to those perfect cheekbones but—maybe it was just the heat. God he was beautiful. “Okay! Okay it’s uhm. It’s almost one, so—So we should probably get everyone gathered together, would you like to take your minion back?” He offered Ellie back to her dad, who let out a soft chuckle at his daughters whine of disappointment, before plucking her from Eddie’s hands.

“But—But I wanna stay with Eddie” was the immediate complaint, which frankly melted Eddie’s already gooey heart even further.

“I know sweetheart, but Eddie’s gotta do Eddie things, yeah? We can hang out with Eddie after we find you some eggs, okay?” Eddie raised a single brow at the assumption, but Steve just offered an apologetic grin, sneaky sneaky, Mr. Harrington.

Especially sneaky since Ellie perked right up, chirping, “Okay!!” placated by the promise of Eddie time later making it impossible for Eddie to say no. Eddie couldn’t even be mad, he wanted Steve time too. Maybe not around some thirty kids and their parents, but… he wanted Steve time too.

“Alrighty” he didn’t refuse Eddie time, Ellie and Steve could have all the Eddie time. “Everyone, could I have your attention please!!” All eyes on him, he stepped to the front of the group “Behold my glorious little adventurers! Behind me is a park FILLED with possibilities. There are one hundred and fifty colourful plastic eggs hidden within this park, the more eggs you find, the bigger your Easter haul will be! Not only that, but somewhere, in this glorious wonderland of opportunity, is a SINGLE golden egg. The finder of such a treasure, will go home with the grand prize of the day, a brand-new bicycle, donated by one of the incredibly generous members of our community.” The excitement in the crowd only seemed to grow, be it for the chocolate, or the bike, Eddie didn’t know, he was just happy everyone was excited.

“To keep things fair, we’ll have staff members monitoring the hunt to ensure nobody steals any eggs from anyone. If you can’t hold any more eggs, you’re welcome to come and ‘bank’ them with the staff over here by the main gates, you’ll get a little slip with a number on it for how many eggs you’ve banked! Now. Are we all ready?” Ohhh they were ready “Aaaare we set?” They were set!! “Aaaand, GO!!”

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos descended upon that park in an instant. Kids diving into bushes, Parents climbing up trees, Eddie had hid at least three eggs on that jungle gym, but nobody had even checked there yet, too busy looking in bushes and—

“Get it, munchkin!!” Steve Harrington, with a little terrible terror on his shoulders, Ellie reaching up to the top of the climbing frame to grab the little green egg from where one of the girls had left it poking out of a post that’d lost its end cap, the larger rounded bottom of the egg resting in the top of the hollow tube perfectly. “Into the bucket! That’s my girl!”

Eddie could watch him all day. Could watch him climbing a tree to get the one egg Eddie had left up a tree, could watch him bent over -oh my god that shirt rode up and hello perfect ass- pushing his daughter up the tube slide to grab the little egg one of the girls had stuck to the inside of it with double sided sticky tape. Could watch Ellie running to her dad with an arm full of eggs she’d found half hidden in a shrub, could watch him celebrate by lifting her up and twirling her around all day long Eddie was so very screwed.

He could also watch, fascinated, by the way Ellie found the golden egg. She found it, all on her own while hunting in the bushes around the stump. She didn’t yell about it, she didn’t throw it into her bucket, she sneakily showed her dad, who glanced around him as if making sure nobody saw, then whispered something to her, Eddie didn’t know what the man said, but whatever he said, it had her hurrying off, egg in hand, eyes scanning the park and everyone in it for a little while, before very sneakily depositing the little egg into a bush and grabbing a boy by the shoulder to point at it for him.

“Look, look it’s the gold one!” She chirped, shaking the little boy, and nudging him toward it “you take it! Quick!” Now, Eddie knew all of Ellies friends in day care. And this little boy… wasn’t one of them. He was new, from a family who didn’t have much, relied on coupons and the generosity of the staff at the day care to keep him while his single mother worked long hours for low income.

It was something Eddie had to ask about, but he only got a chance to do that once everything was over. Once the prizes had been doled out, chocolate eggs, cool colouring sets, accessories, the bike to one VERY excited little boy and one baffled and emotional mother, Eddie sidled himself up to Team Harrington, the pair piling their haul into the trunk of Steve’s minivan?

The fuck did he need a mini van for being a parent of an only child? Didn’t matter.

“Sooo, was I seeing things, or did I see one very sneaky little lady giving away a bike earlier?” Ellie only giggled in mischievous glee as she hurried away with the biggest of her chocolate eggs, taking it to go gorge herself on chocolate by the swings, leaving her dad and her favourite day care person all by themselves in the carpark.

Steve smiled at him, amusement dancing in his beautiful hazel baby cow eyes good lord Eddie was so screwed for this man. “It’d have been a bit weird if the person who donated the bike took the bike home, don’t you think?” Surprise must have shown on his face because Steve continued “I knew people were donating stuff, so I uh… I got a few things together and Ellie’s uncle dropped them all off the other day.” Dustin had dropped them off, left the goods with one of the girls. Eddie hadn’t seen who’d left it all. “Didn’t think I’d be the only one donating something big but… I dunno, it’s nice to see it go to someone who’d appreciate it.” He wasn’t bragging, he wasn’t flaunting wealth, he seemed genuinely happy that some random kid now had a bike.

Don’t flirt with the parent, don’t flirt with the parent, don’t flirt with the—fuck it

“Uh… so uhm, stop me, if uh… if—if you’re not like… that way inclined but uhm… are you free on Friday? For uhm… dinner… maybe…?” It was out there, Steve was looking at him, eyes wide in surprise “shit—that was. Too forward. Super unprofessional, I’m sorry, ignore me I’ll just—I gotta—” he was about two seconds into running away when Steve grabbed his arm in a gentle but strong hold.

“Wait! Wait… like, a date?”

“…Yes?”

“Y-yeah! Yes, yeah, absolutely I’ll… I can uhm—Robin, my sister, she can look after Ellie, so yes, absolutely I am absolutely free on Friday. Let’s say… eight, I’ll pick you up? Maybe dinner at my place and a movie?” Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Holy shit. “Eight and that, sounds perfect.” The love life, it has risen!

“Perfect, eight it is.” Hallelujah!!

#Piratewrites #silly little thing for Easter whee #HOPE EVERYONE WHO CELEBRATED ENJOYED THEIR CHOCOLATES #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Daycare worker Eddie #Single Parent Steve #ficlet #oneshot maybe???#Steve's Hawaiian shirt owning old man is Hopper

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scoobydoodean · 5 months

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#okay wait do y'all think that she wasn't going to try and murder Dean?#Do you think he was going to get through to her?#convince her somehow to not try to stab him?#that she was telling the truth at all in that scene?#because she was totally going to try and kill Dean#like 100% that was going to happen#and if Sam hadn't shot her then Dean would have had to kill her and that would have been so much harder on Dean#like it was disturbing that Dean had a 3 day old monster child that wanted to kill him but who was then killed by her uncle Sam instead#and even more disturbing that they then never mention her again#but these are also the guys who left their half brother in Lucifer's cage and didn't lose any sleep over it so...#and I love Dean but killing Amy was an asshole move#and there's kinda a difference between killing an active imminent threat and killing someone in cold blood after the fact @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis

I didn't want to clutter someone else's post but this was partially directed at me? I've talked about the whole "Emma vs Amy" debate quite a few times, but I'll share a few thoughts.

Amy is a present, unrepentant, fully cognizant, adult, serial murderer. She is not actually sorry about what she did in any way. She believes that slaughtering humans like cattle to feed them to her son was the morally correct action even if it wasn't the ethical action because it kept her son alive. She is not correct.

Emma is a brainwashed child who's been psychologically conditioned for a few days. She has never killed anyone and only wants to kill Dean because some women who abused her told her to.

Hunters like Sam and Dean primarily deal in punitive justice, not preventative justice—and what I mean by that is that Sam and Dean try not to kill people (with powers or without powers) who have never killed anyone.

While I think you're right to point out that a preventative justice component is in play, that is not primarily how Dean makes the decision to go after Amy, and the reason we know that is because Amy's son swears to kill Dean and Dean does nothing about it because the boy has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Dean's application of his personal code is consistent here. He kills Amy, who is a murderer who killed four people, but he does not intend to kill Emma or Amy's son—both of whom wanted to kill him—because neither has actually killed anyone and both may choose not to.

You say that Emma was going to kill Dean 100%, but you don't actually know that because we never got to see that future. You assume Amy would never have killed again, but when you add up "murderer who regrets absolutely nothing" and "child vulnerable to catching illnesses" you get "Mom who absolutely would kill again as necessary and who would feel zero remorse doing so just like the last time".

I don't personally think SPN gives us any reason to suspect that three days of psychological conditioning from a cult is too much to overcome. We have seen other characters overcome much more serious levels of psychological conditioning intended to make them killers. For example, Cas and Alex. I'm not saying Emma wasn't trying to pull the wool over Sam and Dean's eyes in the scene where Sam shot her, but I am saying that doesn't actually mean in any way that she couldn't be convinced to actually choose a different path.

Under the same litmus test with which you suggest Emma's condemnation, we'd also condemn season 2 Sam for his potential "future" crimes. We are killing monsters before they actually become those monsters... because of the dark path someone else intends for them to go down. Amy—again—is an active present unrepentant serial killer.

I think sometimes people misremember the scene where Sam kills Emma—recalling the scene as a scene where Emma lunges at Dean with the knife and Sam steps in just in time to save his life, or where Dean is unarmed and Emma has him at knife point. But that is not what happened. Emma quite literally brought a knife to a gun fight. Dean had a gun pointed at her, and if she was thinking straight at all, she would have left to avoid being killed if given the chance—especially when Sam arrived. And had she not, Sam could have shot her at that point—but Sam didn't wait to see what she'd do. He wanted her dead, because even if she ran, he didn't think they were equipped to deal with surprise attacks from Dean's Amazon child. That is the decision Sam made after a brief moment to consider, and it makes sense to me given the headspace he was in at the time and his assessment of Dean's headspace as well, but it does not make his decision consistent with his previous or future behavior regarding people who have been psychologically conditioned to kill.

My own frustrations are more with fandom, for a thought process that really really does not make sense to me, where Emma deserves to die but Amy deserved to live. I do not agree with that premise. I do not understand why so much of fandom has the perspective that a child who hadn't shed a drop of blood and who was acting in response to a cult's torture, who brought a knife to a gun fight and had already been driven into a corner where she had no choice but to surrender or run—doesn't deserve a chance to choose something else before she's barely lived and before she's heard a loving word in her entire life, but an adult with full cognizance of their actions who went through with killing four people and doesn't regret it should go on with their life and is "just a good mom doing what she had to" and killing that person is the bad thing. I don't understand that. I don't think Dean killing Amy was wrong at all in the "hunters kill supernatural murderers" show. The only thing Dean did wrong was lie about it and not take enough care to keep her son from seeing it happen.

#sams moral compass #deans moral compass #7.03 #7.13 #edit: I'll also be honest while I get where you get the “Sam wanted to spare Dean having to do that” interpretation #(especially with the earlier context of their fight in The Mentalist) I actually think... Sam makes it pretty clear after in the car #that he is furious Dean didn't stow his shit and shoot Emma before Sam even got there. 😬#season 7 #emma #amy

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rfswitchart · 3 months

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Hunter's Comfort Food

I think, at this point, you all know my personal favorite Owl House headcanon. I shouldn't have to say what it is, you already know what I'm about to discuss. However, I am going to describe why Hunter loves what he does and maybe you'll adopt it as your headcanon too...

It all started when Hunter ran away from the Emperor's Coven Post-Hollow Mind. He'd been living in the paranormatorim in Hexside since, building a nest and living on snacks. Gus, having seen the former Golden Guard living so dreadfully, offers him his lunch, which, among other things, included a sandwich.

Hunter then helps Gus escape Adrian and the scouts, citing his reason for doing so being because Gus offered him food. When the illusionist questions him on it, Hunter says "It was a really good sandwich." As many have pointed out, Hunter's diet in the castle was probably miserable. On top of it, he was clearly malnourished, as several characters (Luz, Eda, Amity, Edric, Emira, Matt) have said. So it is assumed he didn't have a great time food wise, which is why he looked so happy eating that loaf of bread in King's Tide...

Yeah, look at him go. Happily chewing on some bread and being pleased as punch over it. And this is where my HC came to be, Hunter and Gus bonding over a simple offering of food. A kindness Hunter had probably never known until then, combined with something that probably saved his life or at the very least made him feel much better. I feel like that sole interaction weighed on Hunter's heart, and it made him fall in love with sandwiches. After all, without Gus' sandwich, he would have never been able to sit down and actually talk about how he was feeling about Belos. He wouldn't have bonded with Gus and helped the younger witch when he needed it most. Hunter developed an intensely strong bond with Gus, a friendship and brotherhood forged in love, trust, and sandwiches.

That said, I assume when they were trapped in the human realm, Hunter started looking into various types of sandwiches (with the help of Camila and Luz, of course.) Figuring out what the best meats and cheeses were. What kinds of vegetables go well with them (information he totally shared with Willow, obviously.) The best kinds of bread and condiments to compliment the other ingredients. I assume he learned about what foods he liked and disliked (boy loves himself some olives, btw.) Of course, this eventually lead to the ultimate creation. His pride and joy: The True Hero Sub. The culmination of his knowledge and understanding of foods that allowed him to create divinity between two slices of bread (well, shoved into a loaf of french bread, but hey, who's counting?)

Of course, this is a BIG sandwich. I know, that's the one I made myself. It is about 2' long (60.69cm for you non-Americans.) It is not something you can eat by yourself, and Hunter would never want to eat it alone. Because of this sandwich, Hunter came up with his philosophy on food; "Food tastes best when shared with others." So I assume the first time he made one, he shared it with the others. Definitely Gus, his sandwich brethren, and possibly Willow, someone Hunter would be thrilled to share his accomplishments with.

And this probably continued as he became an adult. I bet anything that Hunter has a series of sandwiches he brings with him to work. He maybe even wrote down his own cookbook of sorts for them. You KNOW anytime he had a new idea, Gus was the first person he told about it. He probably even made a book to make sandwiches to represent Cosmic Frontier characters (you know Gus AND Camila happily assisted him.) And that's my headcanon. A boy, his best friend, and a type of food that brought them closer and possibly even saved a life in more than one sense. In this house, we respect the Sandwich Bros. (Tagging @childlikegoblinqueen, @unniebeans, and @probablyhuntersmom, who I assume have also had this headcanon infect their brain for some time. *evil laugh*)

#the owl house #toh hunter #hunter noceda #toh headcanon #hunter deamonne #toh gus #gus porter #sandwich bros #hunter loves sandwiches

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tanglepelt · 11 months

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Dc x dp idea 69

Danny is known to the league. Not his civilian identity but they know him as phantom. He was smart enough not to call himself Danny phantom for this.

Amity set off a lot of alarm bells for the JLD. Who have been led to believe it’s just a hot spot for natural portals due to the thin layer. Totally not because of a stable portal into the realm. Controlled by two adults who like to fish inside it. That’s just silly. Who in their right minds would even try to tear a whole between the dimensions.

Danny has a way to contact them if he needs help but never has. The league is unsure what to think of him. He often shows up to help but is only sociable with the teen hero’s. John said they couldn’t accurately gauge the age of a member of the infinite realm.

There really wasn’t any reason to assume he had two identities given he reads as a member of the realm. The bats likely still did there due diligence. With amorpho and duplicates it may be hard to pinpoint if he has two or one identity.

Over time the more Danny is around them he gets more talkative to the adults. Often fanboying over the alien side of the league. It’s common to see him around at least one of the groups at minimum once a month. Then it increases in how often he’s around. Nearly 1-3 times a week.

Then for a month or two radio silence. They couldn’t even find him in his supposed haunt in amity.

He makes a reappearance during a massive invasion. Refuses to talk to anyone. Is stiff and nervous and even flinching away from some of the adults. The same is true of the teen hero’s.

He always shows up to help never staying around after. He takes a bad hit, maybe a ray that disrupts his powers. Danny is forced back into human form unconscious.

This leads to medical finding recently healed Y on his chest. Or maybe one that red and puffy stitched together. You know whatever floats someone’s boat. As well as other scars and stuff.

Ones indicating a vivisection and other experimentations.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #justice league #it could be Giw or Fenton parents #maybe a third party #my thought are the fentons kept getting worse #so that’s why he was around the leauge more often #if he can’t trust his parents why could he trust the leauge #now if it is the Giw and fentons #reason to not trust adults or the parents #it wasn’t just vivisection. the also did other experiments #that was just what tipped the scale #allowing him to break free #or maybe sam and tuck broke him out #just imagine the leagues reaction #John cursing whoever did it because #that is a halfa. who is a child #the realm is protective of ghost children or something #then who whole being cut open part. which is its own reaction #not to meantion. it’s a human child #like Danny Fenton #lots of questions get asked #all while Danny is passed out recovering #he wakes up in medical then panics until he passes out again #he got moved after that. that was poor planning on thier part

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wormlette · 2 months

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smaller than everyone chilchuck being understood by autistic laios. is this anything. (i am small and autistic and felt deeply represented by your post)

Oh my god I spent so long writing a FUCKING RESPONSE and tumblr deleted it kill me. ANYWAY “is this anything” friend this is everything. 🤝

I think the two of them are uniquely able to understand each other bcuz in summary, the things they are both most vulnerable and affected by, the things that have probably damaged their lives most, are things they cannot conceal from others. Laios’ autism and Chilchuck’s size. There’s VERY good discussions on whether Chil is totally normal, autistic but very good at masking, somewhere inbetween, or even whether he’s cis, and those would all INFORM this conversation but whichever way you read him, he is socially aware enough to see that Laios is NOT. And it drives him crazy and he is constantly frustrated and trying to teach him to be more aware of himself as the party leader and just “be more normal”. In my opinion this is because Chil KNOWS how much it hurts to live with a part of yourself you can’t control that makes it hard to make your way through the world — in his own way, he is trying to take care of Laios. This may be both for selfish (he wants a good stable party and that requires a good socially savvy party leader) and selfless (chilaios…) reasons, but either way. It’s essentially just there in the text To Me.

Chilchuck is probably extra frustrated because, at least as he seems to see it, Laios COULD choose to shave off those rough edges of himself and “pass” as respectable/“normal”. (Another reason I kinda think Chil has his own autism thing happening. In my experience, shamefully, I’ve been least patient with people who I see as like me but they just haven’t figured out how to stop the world from hurting them like I have.) (I imagine chil often thinks things like. why don’t you just change. Don’t you see how much easier it would be for you. Don’t you see how much you’re letting the world hurt you. Don’t you know what that will do to you, over time.) meanwhile Chilchuck cannot stop the rest of the world from seeing him as either childLIKE or just straight up a tall-man kid. No matter how professional he is or how scathingly he can insult people or how much he can drink — he can’t stop what people SEE when they LOOK at him (this also makes him a great trans character To Me). I think Laios knows exactly how this feels. He’s not seen as a kid, so it’s not exactly the same. But despite having everything Chilchuck would like to have (tall, looks manly, socially respectable in appearances)… Laios is never going to pass as normal once people get to know him. He ISN’T socially aware. He CAN’T pretend to be someone else anymore, not once the story starts.

So autistic Laios keeps bumbling through social situations that make people want to fucking hunt him for sport. He can’t say the right things, and when he has tried to be himself, we can assume it’s been very poorly received in the past, both when dungeoneering and prior as a little kid. When he’s not being manic about his monster special interest he seems to constantly be doing an Autism Stare that serves to keep people away from him and his sister.

The fact that Chil and Laios both, to some degree, can’t hide what they hate most about themselves, makes them uniquely able to understand each other. And treat each other with sympathy/empathy underneath it all. Laios is the one out of their party who most treats Chilchuck as an adult with agency (understands the stress of his work, defends him, lets him steer situations, listens to his advice, never demeans him or gives any indication he thinks he’s a child altho he did assume Chil is younger than him). If the daydream hour extras that give rough indications of who joined the party when are canon, Chilchuck is the party member who’s been with the party the longest, almost since Falin and Laios founded it, despite thinking of Laios as “the party leader comma I GUESS”. He keeps trying to beat lessons about leading parties into Laios’ head despite many ppl around him considering him a lost cause. As I’ve said in other posts…. He could probably just fucking walk out at any time and either retire or get a different party, and we know Chil has no problem hitting da bricks, but he doesn’t.

The things about themselves that make them most able to relate to each other are also the things that sometimes make them grate against each other (Chil berating Laios in the way only a guy with a major complex can and Laios pouting about it lmao. Laios continuing to be a big cute socially inept dummy anyways.) BUT THAT’S LOVE, BABEY!!!

#chilaios #yeah this can go there. look at my post boy!#DISCUSS. if WE WANT TO.#anyways man I am holding your hand and giving you the gentlest nonconfrontational eye contact [we are both small and autistic] 🤝

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fantastic-nonsense · 2 years

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While you are digging into batfam lore, could you perhaps help explain what the batkids' legal names all are? Fanfiction has messed me all up. Did any of them actually legally take Wayne as their last name? I see it most often with Tim (i.e. Timothy Drake-Wayne) and Cass (i.e. Cassandra Wayne) but I haven't read any comics that I recall that actually called them that.

Sure! A quick rundown of who's actually part of the Wayne family:

Wayne family: Dick, Jason, Tim, and Cass were all legally adopted at one point or another in the post-Crisis universe (post-reboot is....complicated. Dick, Jason, and Tim are all once again adopted after a long series of retcons; Cass's status is still unknown). Damian is Bruce's biological son.

NOT Wayne family: Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Helena Bertinelli, any members of the Fox family (Luke, Tam, Tiffany, Jace, etc), Harper Row, etc.

Duke is a complicated case; he was Bruce's temporary foster son for a year before moving in with his cousin Jay, who now has custody of him. He's...sort of considered Wayne family, in that at least Jason and Tim consider him to be sort of their brother, but he wasn't adopted and no longer lives with Bruce.

Other: Kate and Bette Kane, who are Bruce's cousins and part of the Kane family.

As for legal last names and who actually calls themselves Waynes:

Damian's legal last name is Wayne. The al Ghuls tend to call him "Damian al Ghul" when he's with them, but legally his last name is Wayne; it's also the name Damian goes by UNLESS he's specifically attempting to leverage the al Ghul name amongst his family or the League of Assassins.

Dick continues to go by and think of himself as "Richard John Grayson" even after being adopted, though he explicitly calls himself Bruce's adopted son in several arcs after his adoption happens. You can take your pick of reasons why this might be (and there's quite a few to choose from, mostly connected to Dick's love for his bio parents and already being an established adult when Bruce adopted him), but Grayson was and remains his legal last name.

Jason canonically remained "Jason Peter Todd" after his adoption, per his death certificate:

Jason's death certificate, naming him as "Jason Peter Todd." -Batman Annual #25 (2006)

He was also "Jason Todd" to the general public; it's what people call him when they talk about him both before and after his death. The Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth comic (specifically RHATO #33) confirms that this is the case in the post-Flashpoint universe as well. However, there's a pretty reasonable canon foundation to assume that had Jason's adoption not happened in the 80s and had writers not wanted to complicate things, he probably would have chosen to hyphenate and become Jason Todd-Wayne, based largely on a) Jason's relationship with Willis Todd and b) Bruce and Jason's relationship before his death.

We simply don't know what Cass did. Cass was adopted off-panel in the vague period in between Batman RIP and Final Crisis, but Bruce's death threw everything up into the air; Cass was then promptly put on a bus and shipped out to Hong Kong for the duration of the Reborn era, and since she shows up in a grand total of 8 comics during that time we just don't get enough information to make a judgement call about her last name. Her two appearances in Tim's Red Robin book still call her Cassandra Cain, but it's unclear whether Fabian Nicieza, the writer, even knew her adoption had happened:

"Cassandra Cain, former Batgirl, remains one of the most dangerous fighters on the planet..." /// "Cassandra Cain, aka The Black Bat, Hong Kong operative for Batman, Inc." -Red Robin #17 & #25

Since Cass never had much of a public identity to speak of in the first place (and for a long time didn't even want one), it's super ambiguous what her legal status is and what last name she holds post-adoption. It's pretty reasonable to assume she becomes Cassandra Wayne, though, and it's also my personal preference. Though her relationship with David Cain is complicated, she doesn't hold much attachment to him as a father; likewise, there's really no reason for her not to take on the Wayne name given her attachment to Bruce.

Tim is the complicated one here, mostly because his adoption was such A Production™. Tim was formally adopted about a year in-universe after the events of Identity Crisis (when Tim’s dad was killed by Captain Boomerang). The adoption was pretty high-profile; Tim and Bruce even sat for an interview about it:

From 2007-2011, he's called Tim Drake and Tim Wayne (and occasionally Tim Drake-Wayne) pretty interchangably depending on the writer and situation. His legal name is probably Tim Drake-Wayne, though it's actually ambiguous. He tends to go by Tim Wayne in public while usually referring to himself as Tim Drake in private:

"And by the way, it's Wayne when I want a favor or a table at Bartese, and it's Drake when I look in the mirror." -Red Robin #15

"A question for Mr. Wayne--" /// "Reporting live from the reopening of the Newton Community Gym where Tim Wayne is about to address the crowd." -Red Robin #14 and 15

Post-Flashpoint, that adoption was erased and Bruce and Tim’s relationship was very strained; in the Rebirth era, his adoption was implied to be canon again in both Tynion’s Detective Comics run and King's Batman run, but we didn’t get confirmation until Infinite Frontier and Urban Legends, where Tim is once again explicitly adopted and occasionally called Tim Wayne, though he still mostly goes by and is referred to as Tim Drake:

"But just to be clear--we're not splitting the bill, Tim Wayne." -Urban Legends #4

"...and then Mr. Wayne just adopted you? Awful generous of him." -Urban Legends #4

Tim is also the only one regularly referred to in public as "Bruce's adopted son." Most of the time they're referred to as "Bruce Wayne's wards," so whether the adoptions are public knowledge or not is questionable, but their status as his wards and foster kids is not. Though they largely never lived in the Manor at the same time, they've all attended various public functions as Bruce's kids and acted on Bruce's behalf in various capacities while in the public eye.

tl;dr Tim is canonically the only one who takes the last name "Wayne" upon being adopted; he generally continues to refer to himself as Tim Drake, but canon calls him "Tim Drake," "Tim Drake-Wayne," and "Tim Wayne" pretty interchangably afterwards. Dick doesn't change his name and canonically Jason didn't either, though you could make a case that he might have hyphenated had his adoption been written in the modern era. We don't see Cass enough after her adoption to know either way; however, her existing canon relationships with Bruce and her biological family heavily support and/or imply that she probably became Cassandra Wayne.

#dc comics #batman meta #batfam meta #asks #long post #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #tim drake meta #cassandra cain meta #dick grayson meta #jason todd meta #bruce wayne #fanon vs canon

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ao3cassandraic · 8 months

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I’m wondering about your thoughts on something I’ve been musing on after S2. How good is Aziraphale’s reading comprehension? How much does he understand subtext and metaphor? Because his behavior this season struck me with the impression that he didn’t really understand the books he collects. He’s clever at puzzle solving, and contains vast knowledge; but he always seems to take things at face value (when he’s not willfully misunderstanding), and refuses to give up black-and-white thinking, which would make it very difficult to analyze texts.

Angels, demons, language, and culture: part 1

You sure ask the difficult ones. (Which is great, I'm totally jazzed about it!)

I delayed answering this ask because it sent me off in a lot of directions:

What is an angel's starting knowledge base?

In contrast, how and what do we humans learn about our world and one another?

Which of these learning methods is not really available to an angel?

What do humans learn from books, fiction especially?

What kinds of information get left implicit in books because authors are humans writing for other humans?

How would an angel fill in those blanks? How would those blanks distort an angel's notion of How Humans and Human Things Work?

What would angels generally and either Aziraphale or Muriel (because yeah, it's hard to have this discussion without thinking about Muriel too) specifically read human-authored fiction for?

I don't have all the answers to the above questions. Not even CLOSE. I happily invite my fellow meta-ists to weigh in on any or all of them!

But let's see what I can tease out. We'll start with factory settings, so to speak.

Angelic vs. human factory settings

(questions 1 through 3)

Angels have (one) language. They have music -- or, at least, they can sing Her praises (likely by rote). At least some, like our Starmaker, have the knowledge to do specific jobs. Note that Aziraphale not only doesn't know how to make stars and nebulas, he's not even clear on what a nebula is. We can safely assume from that that angels don't all possess the same set of knowledge and skills purely by virtue (heh) of being angels.

We don't see, however, how much of what they know is simply an angel's birthright versus how much of it is somehow educated into them. We also don't know how She divvies up necessary knowledge, though I'd think it safe (given most takes on angelology) to guess that angelic rank and intended function are part of Her calculus, perhaps even the whole of it.

What strikes me hardest is that angels seem to be created either as adults or children (which is what I believe the scareable "cherubs" are), and they may well never change that state. The Starmaker is childlike in some ways, but not a child. Likely never was a child! Aziraphale, Before the Beginning, isn't childlike at all; his personality seems pretty close to fully-formed.

And children learn so very, very much. Babies learn so much as babies, while their neuroplasticity is super super plastic! Especially they learn about relating to other beings! (Which the Starmaker is conspicuously Not Real Great at, honestly -- absorbed in the work of creation, the Starmaker does not pick up the feelings Aziraphale is laying down at all.)

Children also learn one OR MORE languages, and that "more" is rather important, because language shapes how we think to some extent (the extent of that extent, and its nature, are objects of fierce debate among linguists and neuroscientists), and different languages shape us differently. Just as Crowley (as plenty of theologians argue) did humanity a favor with the whole knowledge-of-good-and-evil thing, the Tower of Babel (assuming that was a thing that happened in the GOverse; no reason it wouldn't have, I suppose) added a whole lot of nuance and complexity and competing understandings to humanity's sense of itself and its universe.

Exactly how angels and demons manage to speak all human languages (which Crowley indicates they can) isn't clear. If we accept that the Tower of Babel happened, both Heaven and Hell must have had to figure out a way to deal with it.

We do see, however, that angels and demons can be fluent in human languages without being fluent in human thought or human cultures. Gabriel and Sandalphon speak perfect English yet barely know which end of a book is up. Hastur and Ligur can't disentangle ciao/chow. And, I mean, actual food? Fuhgeddaboudit. So I see their linguistic facility as a sort of Douglas Adams Babel fish: it can translate an angel's or demon's thought into the target language, but it can't help an angel or demon think like an actual speaker of that language.

As an example, Gabriel can tell Job and Sitis about their new children, perfectly fluently. His purely-linguistic fluency does not help him understand that they loved their old children, much less why.

This may explain why Aziraphale studied French under M. Rossignol. He perhaps didn't feel he understood how French speakers think, and was interested enough in that to learn the language (as other meta-ists have noted, the language of love!) the human way.

So yeah, if I have a conclusion here it's that angels and demons can seem as off-center as they often do from a human perspective because they wholly missed out on a key period of human brain development.

What they have in its place appears to be... rules. Which is, I think, where I'll take this next.

#good omens #good omens meta #heaven and hell #the starmaker #aziraphale #hastur #ligur #babel fish #language and culture #tower of babel

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