#oldsargasso

[le-trash-prince]

You can’t tell me they never fucked. Like these two definitely had miserable hate sex at least once. AT LEAST ONCE.

[echo-the-owl]

yoonkook being domestic? I don't really have a better prompt, sorry ):

“Can’t we just put the mattress on the floor and sleep that way? It’s not like this will make it more comfortable,” Yoongi grumbled.

It wasn’t the first time he had given this exact complaint and Jungkook was 90% certain it wouldn’t be the last. He had complained when Jungkook had insisted on buying a bed frame, when the were at the store choosing one, when they ordered it, while they were moving and loading the still packaged frame onto the truck, and again now that they had dragged it into their new apartment. He had made other complaints as well of course. Most notably, he had griped about just using the (horribly broken) frame Jungkook already had.

Considering he had been sleeping on a couch before he unofficially moved into Jungkook’s old apartment a few months ago, he wasn’t really surprised. He shook his head, pulling out the box cutter to finally unwrap the bed frame. He had ordered one with extra storage, since there were now two people living in an only slightly larger one bedroom apartment. They needed all the storage they could get.

Yoongi was sitting on the floor, pouting as Jungkook pulled everything out of the box by himself. He rolled his eyes, tossing the instruction manual at him. If he couldn’t convince him to help build, he figured he could at least read. Yoongi flipped through it boredly at first, though his eyes widened dramatically at the first few pages.

“We have to make this? Did you have to buy the most complicated thing in the store?” he whined.

“That’s just the bed frame. The headboard is separate,” Jungkook chuckled. Yoongi groaned.

“Squiggly dude says you need two screwdrivers and a hammer,” he sighed as Jungkook moved the now empty wrapping out of the way. Jungkook moved to peek over his shoulder, squatting down and looking at the graphic Yoongi was glaring out. Letting out a short laugh and leaving a peck on his boyfriend’s cheek, he went to drag out his tool bag.

“Squiggly dude also says I’m supposed to do this with a partner but I’m guessing I’m out of luck there,” Jungkook mused. “Screwdrivers and hammer, check. What am I doing, not-so-squiggly dude?”

“Uh… take the long fat board and the two short not-rectangle ones and lay them down for a funeral.”

“Oh, please tell me you’re going to continue with these descriptions,” Jungkook snickered as Yoongi furrowed his brows at the manual. He dragged out the pieces in question, lying them all next to each other.

“You need two of the- fucking hell they have code numbers. Shouldn’t they just use like… letters? Y’know ‘take piece A and put it into piece B’ not god damn six digit codes,” he huffed, turning the manual sideways. “Why the fuck does this one have two different codes? It’s one part? Do they have the codes on the little baggies?”

“Yes, they do,” Jungkook laughed.

“Take two of the… one-one-zero-six-three-zero thingamajigs and put them in the holes on one of the short whatevers,” he ordered.

After a long mix of both vague and oddly descriptive instructions they somehow managed to get the bed frame together without incident. Yoongi let out a long, loud groan when Jungkook dragged out the headboard, ensuring that this part would be easier. He hadn’t even gotten the box open before Yoongi fell back to lie on the ground dramatically.

“Why does this one have six fucking pages of the same goddamn warning,” Yoongi muttered, still lying on his back as he opened up the instructions. “Squiggly dude is back. He gives the same instructions as before. Also, he tells you not to be a dumbfuck and use the shelves like a ladder.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I ask why the hell the headboard for a bed needs to be assembled and why it even has shelves that you could be a dumbfuck on, but whatever. You need the- holy shit no.”

“I don’t think that’s what any of the pieces are called.”

“It is now.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook chided. “I’m the one doing all of the work, why are you even complaining.”

“I have to decipher this shit. They don’t even have part numbers for the different boards. Dumbass fucking Swedish bullshit…”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook warned again, biting down his laugh at the elders cute grumbling.

“Take the short short skinny board and the two kinda short skinny ones and the long but not too long skinny one and also, fuck this shit.”

“Right. One fuck this shit coming up.”

Hey now, any prompt is a good prompt, okay? I had fun with this one. Hopefully it’s what you wanted? I don’t think I’ve ever written anything domestic in my life ahaha.

Send me a prompt?

[le-trash-prince]

normal ppl looking at this tweet: aww PonSailub haha ☺️

Me looking at this tweet: zooms the fuck in

Me: BAD GAYS

[kevingorg]

how about #1 forehead kiss! for whatever pairing takes your fancy (I'm not sure which ones you're into is all!)

thank you!!! and that's all fine, i have given you kirill/ilya because i'm always on my bullshit.

this is a scene within the canon of dystopia au from before the timeline of dystopia au actually starts. if i ever do write the childhood friends-to-lovers prequel to that, this would be a seminal moment.

There’s not a lot of warning. It’s six days before New Year’s and Ilya has an hour to get on a train to Moscow. The team has known since this morning. Ilya found out thirty minutes ago.

“You’re leaving,” Kirill says again, dumbly. He’s asked the same question three times already, but Ilya doesn’t tell him to be quiet.

“Yes,” Ilya says. He scoops the contents of a dresser drawer out haphazardly, shirts shedding everywhere as he carries them around to his bed and dumps them in his open suitcase.

“But you’re —” Kirill stops. What is he? Anything he could say would be too obvious. Kirill shuts his mouth.

There are a few long seconds of silence as Ilya shoves more clothes into the suitcase, his movements sharp and pronounced. He does a good job of hiding it, speaks softly and smiles at Kirill like he thinks Kirill needs it, but Kirill can tell. Just under the skin, Ilya is seething.

This was always a little inevitable, he knows. Since the start of the season. You lose and keep losing, and the team starts trading out parts. Ilya had been good but not amazing. Kirill had scored but not enough. God knows when it’s his turn on the chopping block. But there are four days until New Year’s, and Kirill had just thought — he had thought maybe, after everything, this would be the one thing he could keep.

Ilya flips the top of his suitcase shut. He looks at Kirill. His whole face softens, butter on warm bread. “Kiryusha,” he says, that silly child’s name that he still insists on.

Kirill is feeling too fraught to roll his eyes like he usually would, just nods.

“Come here,” says Ilya, and for a moment Kirill thinks that he might be doing it now, even though they’re in the middle of the dorm, even though anyone could walk in and see. He thinks that he will be very angry with Ilya for doing this, later.

But he still goes.

Ilya does not kiss him.

Ilya gathers him into his arms, holds him tight while Kirill draws his hands up to palm over Ilya’s shoulder blades. Ilya’s lips press, warm and firm, against Kirill’s temple for a breath of a moment. “I’ll see you soon.”

It’s an impossible promise, but Kirill lets him get away with it. In a naive, needy sort of way, Kirill even believes it.

[kevingorg]

22 for the fic meme? go for any (or all!) fics!

thank you for this perfectly tailored ask <3 it is going under a read more because i do not shut up once i get started on symbols.

22: have you used any symbolism in [insert fic]? what does it represent?

what a great question! the answer is of course i have and i will give you an itemized list. in choice theory, the ring is a fairly obvious symbol of expectations within a relationship, particularly uncommunicated or unreciprocated ones. i will also toss the mentions of household items (the towels, the cutting board, whatever) out there as communicated expectations/positive symbols of their relationship. fairly surface-level. in jeep fic, jeeps are society. that's mostly a joke. they're actually internalized homophobia, guilt, and the general catholic fear of being constantly surveilled by something greater than you that is ultimately judging each 'wrong' decision you make. so they're society. also jeep fic is about reclamation and internal reconciliation, to be clear. i'm trying to think of if i used any symbolism in bucket list fic but to be perfectly honest i just wrote that because i thought it would be kind of funny and i had too many disparate tim/brady thoughts to reasonably tie them together into a more coherent or meaningful narrative. the list is definitely a manifestation of general heteronormative societal expectations though. probably. i sort of lay ghost ballet fic out from the start with my tags, but i was right when i called gravy 'an undead manifestation of gabe's decaying legacy' and cale 'a physical representation of his nostalgia-warped past.' this is another one about reconciling your expectations for yourself (and the expectations of others) with the life you live, and about finding joy even in the fleeting things.

i'm starting a new paragraph for small town au because i apparently looked at this 36k horse farm fic and decided it needed every single possible symbol i could pack in there. mack is sam -- general symbol of innocence/youth/growth/trust. danny is a manifestation of how the system/adults can fail the people who trusted them even if they think they've done the right thing. ej is sam's narrative foil, in a sense -- i mentioned this somewhere before but when he meets ej, sam is essentially faced with two choices: he can either turn out the same way, or he can make the choice to do something different. the town is a physical cycle of abuse, and sam leaving it is the metaphorical breaking out of that cycle. obviously this is a boiled-down analysis of that whole situation and societal abuse does not come down to individual choice, but small town au is also about reclamation, even if the 'reclamation' sam tries to enact at first (i.e. his relationship with ej) is more of a false start than anything. in that sense, small town au is mostly a story about making mistakes and learning from them, while being incredibly messy about it. also the landscape/scenery descriptions are a manifestation of nostalgia and the meaning you can attach to a place (or a person. or an experience) once you've gotten out and it can't actively hurt you anymore. i am 100% sure that i have left things out because this doesn't get into gabe and nate, sam's family, any of the other horses, the chickens, the books, or any of the feelings about isolation/loneliness/desperation that i sort of. poured into that entire fic. but it is already long enough lmao.