#Baker is intended for everybody

[hom3landr]

CALLING ALL BAKERVERSE FANS

Soooooo I have a fun challenge for any artists out there who are fans of Bakerverse. Please send me interpretations of your Baker and how you picture her. The sky is the limit and you can depict her however you want. After the submissions are all in, I’ll have a vote and whoever wins I’ll use their art as the header for the next chapter. If this is a success I can hold similar events for future chapters.

Would anyone be interested? Please let me know. If I get a positive response I’ll set a submission deadline and iron out some contest guidelines. I can’t wait to see everyone’s creativity.

[astrangetorpedo]

Boy Power: The Women of Boygenius on the Joys of Nourishing a Supergroup Without the Superegos

By Chris Willman

The three singer-songwriters who make up Boygenius are musing about what they did and didn’t intend to accomplish when they went into the studio to make “The Record.” The six Grammy nominations they just collectively reeled in for their first full-length album together? Not actually part of the master plan. Neither was establishing themselves as role models for a much-needed sense of community across a swath of young America.

“We didn’t set out to be like, ‘And we symbolize friendship!’” bandmate Julien Baker points out, musing about the benevolent qualities that have been attributed to the group. “We just were like, ‘Let’s make a good record.’”

Fair enough. But have we mentioned that Variety‘s Group of the Year does, in fact, symbolize friendship — to the point that the band has virtually become an iconic representation of trifold intimacy? Sharing the bond the trio developed in the studio and on the road has been a key part of the appeal for the band’s avid fan base. It’s a conclusion that band member Lucy Dacus was not avoiding when she recently told Teen Vogue that “being affectionate onstage has been really fun and sweet, and it exhibits behavior that I think is healthy and good.” They even wrote about their growing closeness in meta album tracks like “Leonard Cohen.” “True Blue,” their signature loyalty ballad, may or may not be about the group itself, it’s hard to escape the feeling that a line like “It feels good to be known so well” somehow applies not just to the trio’s interpersonal relationships but to the generally progressive, empathetic, LGBTQ-friendly, folk-rocking audience at a Boygenius show.

No wonder Boygenius seemed to consistently have the longest merch lines of 2023 (at least this side of Taylor Swift’s), with fans seeking ways to fly their colors. In what can still register as a man’s world, suddenly, it kind of felt like everybody wanted to be a boy.

A concert by the trio has its rituals. The band members describe a private rite that occurs early in a set, right after they’ve opened the show with a handful of their hardest-charging songs, like “Satanist” (another friendship song, once you get past the irreverent title) and “$20,” and are transitioning into something more reflective. “We have a little moment where we look at each other during ‘True Blue’ every show,” Dacus reveals, looking across the table at bandmate Phoebe Bridgers, “and sometimes I’ll wink at you and be like, ‘Here’s the time where we check in.’ And sometimes I feel like we can see when each of us feel crazy.”

Bridgers agrees, saying, “Or we have a weird day, and we have to look at each other and just be like, ‘Oh, my God, this day is still trudging on,’” suggesting that there are hidden cues and codes being passed around while Dacus’ soft voice is tucking an audience of thousands into a warm, communal bath.

But there’s a more public-facing ritual at the end of the show, when the members basically pile on each other in some form or another. It can look like sheer, rough horseplay, but given that everyone in the group identifies as queer, these full-body collisions also been described in reviews or fan comments as “Sapphic” moments. How would they characterize them? “It’s Sapphic horseplay!” says Bridgers, grinning, and maybe not entirely kidding. “That is exactly what it is.”

“With the horseplay,” says Dacus, taking that term and running with it, “sometimes we kiss. Sometimes we spin around. Sometimes we throw things at the audience. Sometimes we crowd-surf. Sometimes we pick up Julien or bow to her. It’s never really planned. Sometimes our tits are out.”

Bridgers remembers what felt like a signal change moment at a London show in the summer: “Someone got on her friend’s shoulders and flashed me in Gunnersbury Park. It was right after we took our shirts off the first time” at their prior show. “I was like, ‘This is so sick'” — the good kind of sick — “‘that someone feels safe enough to do this.’”

Dacus agrees. “Yeah, it doesn’t feel violent or violating in that particular circumstance. Like, if someone walked by and flashed us right now, I’d be like, Uhhhh. But, yeah, there’s something about what the show culminates in, where it does feel very safe and celebratory.”

Where we are right now is the outdoor patio of a Studio City coffeehouse, where the only things being flashed are Baker’s easing-into-autumn sweater, or slightly more provocative items like the “I Love Cuntry Music” trucker hat that Dacus has just doffed, or the Viagra Boys cap that Bridgers keeps on, maybe to deflect any possible attention that passers-by might otherwise give to her tell-tale platinum hair. The few passersby wouldn’t guess that this is a group about to play a long-sold-out headline show at the Hollywood Bowl for its 2023 tour finale, or to do “Saturday Night Live” a week and a half after that. They’re laid-back and still capable of surprising and delighting each other in conversation, and not at all giving off any America’s Greatest Current Rock Band vibes, although they’ve earned the right to some attitude, with an album that much of the indie-rock crowd and not a few critics would agree is the year’s best.

“Phoebe was the one that was like, ‘This is gonna be big,’” Dacus says. “I had aspirations; you had plans,” she says, looking at Bridgers. “You were like, ‘We’re gonna do it!’”

“We had talked about the Hollywood Bowl in the kitchen of Shangri-La, remember that?” Bridgers says, referring to the Malibu studio owned by Rick Rubin, where they cut “The Record.”

“But I didn’t have any context,” Baker says, noting that neither she nor Dacus had ever set foot in America’s most iconic venue, having grown up around Memphis and Richmond, Va., respectively, versus the Pasadena stomping grounds that’d given Bridgers lifelong access to some bigger dreams. “Our last show” — in Los Angeles, at the end of their debut 2018 tour — “we played the Wiltern, and I was tearful backstage,” Baker says, as she remembers exulting: “‘I’m so proud of us! All my dreams have come true!’ Like I’d topped out.”

The Bowl, and Madison Square Garden just before it, were milestones even for Bridgers, the most visible solo artist of the three prior to this year. She’d topped out herself locally, maybe, at the Greek. Then a funny thing happened on the way to the Cahuenga Pass: “The Record” immediately established Bridgers, Baker and Dacus as equals in every way, even in the eyes of fans who might previously have favored or just been more immersed in one solo career or another. There was magic to how evenly gifted and well matched they were as frontwomen, as songwriters, as harmonizers. They truly put the super back in “supergroup” … and took the ego out of superego, in a manner of speaking.

Strength in numbers: What a concept! Why didn’t anyone ever try it before? Well, there’ve been a few tries at bringing existing titans together over the years, and hoping they wouldn’t clash. There was Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, and Asia, and the Souther-Hillman-Furay Band and … um … Well, let’s let the geniuses here come up with some slightly more contemporary analogues.

“You could look at Broken Social Scene and New Pornographers,” Baker says, but as soon as she starts dissecting the dynamics of those groups, it’s clear there aren’t really any recent antecedents that compare.

“I bet a lot of people try it, with a pretense that falls apart once they start to make it,” Dacus says, and then affirms why they’ve been able to come up with a successful joint project where others before them have bailed. “This collaboration is as important to each of us, if not more important, than our solo work,” she says. “And I bet a lot of supergroups are, even internally, thinking of it as a side project or a momentary thing.”

Bridgers agrees. “Yeah, because you’re going to make a third of what you’d earn making your own thing. So you’re like, ‘It’s my side thing — I’ll devote six months to it.’ But we put as much attention into it as if we were making our own records. The album took us so long to make, and we worked on it relentlessly. It was pretty serious from day one.”

Baker says, “It’s sick that the band has an identity that’s more than the sum of its parts.” (This maxim may be the closest Boygenius will ever come to a cliché, but they, and you, have got to embrace one that is this mathematically inescapable.)

When it came to the material they brought to the table, far from coming up with tunes that felt like discards from their solo releases, “The Record” ended up being chock-full of extremely personal and introspective songs. But it also included some of the most inherently commercial songs any of them have done, apart or together. You may recall that Bridgers had to be kind of coerced into making “Kyoto” a banger; in each other’s company, there was no such reticence.

“Definitely with ‘Not Strong Enough,’” Bridgers says, “I was like, ‘It’d be fun to have a radio song.’” (And, as it turns out, a Grammy song; it’s up for record of the year.) “With the songs that we were gravitating toward, we knew ‘True Blue’” — a Dacus-led ballad — “was gonna be such an indie smash, and fucking ‘Satanist’” — conceived by Baker — “goes so hard. ‘Strong Enough’ was the one we finished last, and I was like, ‘Let’s each write and sing a verse, because this could be the single.’” It didn’t feel like a sellout. “A lot of stuff that would feel contrived, solo, doesn’t feel contrived with these guys, because it’s just all in the spirit of fun and being together. And, yeah, it’s the first time I’ve ever been like, ‘Damn, people are gonna sing along to this part!’”

That delirious spirit stands in healthy contrast to the sad-core image some people might have slapped onto one or all of the band members. But it’s hardly all about the mirth. At the Bowl, as on every other night in the latter parts of the tour, Bridgers asked the audience to put away all phones for the album’s devastating final track, “Letter to an Old Poet,” as she walked the semicircular platform separating the front two seating areas. She says, “Every once in a while I see a phone and I fume, but mostly they’re great and they put their phones away. And because most of the show has been looking through people’s phones and not at their faces, suddenly they become a roomful of people, and it’s insanely powerful to me.”

Why that number in particular, for shutting down cameras? Is it just one of a dozen possible moments to make that request, or is there something in particular about this one’s wounded and angry spirit…

“I play plenty of heavy songs,” Bridges says, “but that one feels too dark to not be having a communal experience.”

“Isn’t that the only time that you’ve cried while doing a vocal take — during that song?” Dacus asks.

“Yeah. I had a couple years where I had a hard time crying,” Bridgers affirms. “I’m over it now, thank God. Now I cry all the time. But ‘Letter to an Old Poet’ is one of the only times I’ve cried onstage.”

“Lucky,” Dacus says. “I hate crying onstage. It happens. I hate that shit.”

These asides about tears might give a Boygenius novice the wrong impression about the band. Even their softer songs tend to have a barb in them, and others, like the screamfests “$20” or “Satanist,” are undeniably hard-ass. A cutting irreverence is the hallmark that makes the sentimental moments honest and disarming.

Their irreverence comes through in their choice of stage or TV outfits too: At the Bowl, they dressed up as the Father, Son and Holy Ghost (with Dave Grohl sitting in briefly on drums as a zombie priest). “If you think of a three-person costume,” Baker explains, “what’s three things? We were like, ‘We could be the Trinity.’” Maybe it’s just as simple as that — numbers as Halloween destiny. But the band members don’t demur when the suggestion comes up that maybe it also had something to do with the phrase that is repeated over and over again in the bridge of “Not Strong Enough”: “Always an angel, never a god.” They switched up that equation, if just for one night, getting deistic at the Bowl.

Less than two weeks later, for “SNL,” they dressed up as the Beatles in their Ed Sullivan-era early prime. The Trinity? The Fab Four? Screw CSNY and all the rest; these women know a real supergroup when they see one.

When “SNL” came around, it was clear they would only be emulating the Beatles and not, like, the Who. There was definitely not going to be any attempt on the show to repeat Bridgers’ guitar-smashing solo appearance of 2021. “Hey, I tried,” she says about not quite fully breaking her ax on that occasion; the guitar took a licking, but almost kept on ticking, a resilience she was amused, not annoyed, by.

This year, the group has been more about melting hearts than heating up flame wars — whether that’s been in their more nakedly revealing songs or taking up causes like dressing in drag in Nashville to support the trans community under political attack there, or inviting Indigenous groups to provide invocations before select tour dates.

When the band receives its Group of the Year award at Variety‘s Hitmakers event, Joan Baez will be presenting the honor to the trio. That may seem like an odd pairing if you’re only considering Boygenius’ more irreverent moments, but an utterly apropos matchup if you are keeping in mind the band’s deeply earnest side and, especially, the social conscience that flares up around their performances. As it happens, the group has also performed at Baez’s Bread and Roses benefits in the Bay area.

“Oh my God,” says Dacus. “Sometimes I have to remember how important she is, because in our experience of her, she’s just been super-kind, and complimenting us, and then it’s like, ‘You’re Joan Baez! You made music joyfully political for a whole generation of people!’ Sometimes we lament how people in media are asked to basically be politicians now…”

“Because politicians aren’t being politicians,” Bridgers interjects — “they’re being fucking TV stars.”

“But she set this example of, because you’re a human, you have to stand for things,” Dacus continues. “So, it’s not because we’re musicians that we care about these causes, it’s because we’re people, and we would be caring about them if we all had office jobs. A lot of people are afraid to do that, and she wasn’t, and it’s a great example for us. We are not very afraid to say what we believe. … Just as a person, I hope to be like her.”

Bridgers notes that Baez, in her initial heyday as America’s folkie sweetheart, “was losing opportunities because she was radical — and then that ended up being the fuel for her whole career. How radical she was was then rewarded.” She sums up Baez’s appeal in a nutshell: “Woody Guthrie was screeching this, and I’m gonna sing it.” (They crack up, with Bridgers noting that no offense to anyone living or dead was intended: “We’re big Woody fans.”)

Baker has thoughts about how they earn the right to be what might be perceived as political, whether it’s something as seemingly un-divisive as having Indigenous people do Land Acknowledgements introductions before their sets, or speaking up on trans or reproductive choice issues.

“Giving them something of ourselves in the songs is like an endearment practice, where we’re like, ‘You will trust us because you have an emotional connection to something we’ve said that resonates with you.’ So when we are in drag at the Nashville show [just after the state enacted anti-drag laws], kids are trusting our judgment, because we’ve gone to the trouble of sharing something difficult or even painful for us to communicate. Then it’s worth it for them to enter that conversation, because we’ve set the stakes of like what’s important to communicate, even if involves conflict or pain.”

The songs themselves aren’t always, if ever, aimed at the fans, though. Sometimes the target audience for the material is, well, Boygenius.

“We write songs to each other as a communication method,” Baker says.

Bridgers doesn’t think it should be mistaken for oversharing. “We have plenty of stuff that’s sacred and not shown to anybody other than each other. I think there’s this weird misconception sometimes that we don’t have a private relationship, because so much of it this year has been monetized in our performance.” And yet, Dacus says, their music is as transparently interpersonal as it sounds. “Some friendships over years don’t get to enough of a level of intimacy to share the types of fears and desires and hopes that we are saying.”

“We hang out,” declares Baker, as if this might not be a matter-of-fact thing for a working rock group. (It doesn’t go without saying.)

How long will the hang last?

In October, the band put out a four-song EP called “The Rest,” a sequel or companion piece to “The Record.” The title does have an air of at least temporary finality to it, as if the cupboard is bare. Says Bridgers, “It’s funny that it’s called ‘The Rest,’ because we absolutely do have more songs that we didn’t put out.”

But where do they go from here? In 2023, did the side hustle so overtake the main hustle that they should keep Boygenius going into 2024, when they could certainly sell out sheds or maybe even arenas they didn’t come near this year? They’ve already broken with supergroup form so much; would it be a terrible thing if they were to further break it to the point of unexpectedly doing an immediate, sequential band album? Or do they revert to their solo corners? Fans might wish there could be a multiverse in which the band never pauses, on one track, and individual careers proceed apace on another.

Conventional wisdom would suggest they will not let solo albums go unmade just for the sake of rocking more venues. But you will not get a definitive answer here.

“I don’t know,” says Bridgers. “It’s incredible to me that we have kept the ethos behind the band the whole way, which is: it just has to be fun. We’ve done a lot of shit, but there’s also shit we said no to, stuff that felt like it was like pushing a boundary as far as travel or labor and stuff that sounds like we might push ourselves into not having fun. So that gets to continue forward, after this album cycle. I think we just are gonna do whatever is fun, and remain each other to each other. These guys are as involved in what I do as they are in Boygenius. We show each other ideas, and…”

“We need each other’s brains,” Dacus says.

So is it possible to specifically say that solo albums are what’s next, or do they want to leave a bit of mystery?

The attempt to pin it down leaves them unusually cagey. “It’s a mystery,” Bridgers says.

Dacus: “I’ll just say I’m not thinking about it.”

Bridgers: “Oh, yeah. It’s a mystery to us.”

Dacus, having the final noncommittal word: “If it’s a mystery to you, it’s a mystery to us too.”

Hard to tell whether there might be any real indecision here, or whether they just don’t want to lay out all their cards for the outside world, or whether they might be having a difficult time reconciling themselves to a near-future in which they might be Zoom advisors to one another instead of daily physical confidantes.

In the immediate meanwhile, there is Grammy season, and a slew of awards to be won, or not won. Bridgers has some experience there, with her multiple nominations in 2021. “It was still very deeply fucking COVID when I was nominated, and I was pretty like traumatized last time, and like the only way I felt it was on the phone. To find out in a room full of people and be celebrating, it’s already way more fun.” Dacus says being collectively recognized is “triple the joy, right? Much easier to feel happy for them” than for herself, she says. “Much easier to feel.”

Is there a line from any of their songs that could maybe encapsulate how they’re feeling right now, between the six Grammy noms, the “SNL” appearance and the impending end-of-year accolades? At that question, they start to laugh.

“Give me your funny ones,” someone says.

Then Dacus says, “Ohhh, I have a cute one.”

“Which one?” the others ask, curious to get an earnest answer after all.

Quoting one of her own lyrics, Dacus lowers her voice, as if it’s suddenly occurred to her that it’s a secret that she’s sharing. “‘I never thought you’d happen to me,’” she says.

(x) photos by Jingyu Lin

[ittlebitz]

10 QL People That I Want Carnally

I was tagged by @sunshinesanctuary

Thank you, bebe, this was fun! I know the original call is for 10, but I never saw a limit I didn't want to challenge. Whatever, whatever, I do what I want. So, in no particular order:

1. Inspector M - Manner of Death (Great Sapol)

Look at him. LOOK. AT. HIM. Absolutely adorable and also hot as hell. He can slap those cuffs on me any time he pleases. If he stands still long enough I will most definitely climb him like a tree (and that goes double for Great himself tbh).

2. Jang Jaeyoung - Semantic Error (Park Seoham)

Yeah, yeah, he's cocky and a bit of a slacker, but he is also smart, talented, and let's be real, a grade A simp. Don't get me started on that lip piercing...

3. Choi Jun - Jun & Jun (Ki Hyun Woo)

Like, they gave me this man's bare back within the first 30 seconds of the first episode, was I not supposed to get thirsty?

4. Yi Phayak Chatdecha Chen - Naughty Babe (Max Kornthas)

Ah, Hia Yi. Wealthy, handsome, super overprotective of his beloved. Bit of a control freak but not ashamed of giving up control in the bedroom. Love that for him (me).

5. Phaya - The Sign (Billy Patchanon)

Look, I am a simple woman. I just want him to put his hand around my throat, pin me, and call me a good girl. I don't think that's asking for too much.

6. Patts - La Pluie (Pee Peerawich)

My beloved. He was just so good, you know? He has a good job and loves animals. He dresses nicely and charms the parents. And then a total lover in between the sheets. Let the rain come down.

7. Payu - Love In The Air (Boss Chaikamon)

I'm pretty sure this man was singularly responsible for the meltdown of several of my brain cells. His looks, his demeanor, his dominance, his *gestures vaguely* everything, you know?

8. Jeng Kittiphong - Step By Step (Man Trisanu)

I know for a fact that I was not the only one who had their brain short circuit during this scene. I am willing to hold a towel for him and even help him wipe down after working out. I am also willing to work him out (wink wonk).

9. Fighter - Why R U (Zee Pruk)

Oh my god but he was so cute. The hot guy everybody wanted who had no idea how to act when he had a crush on a pretty boy. You just KNOW he kisses like an absolute dream. Also, when he was crying during the breakup scene I was ready to fly to Thailand and start throwing hands, I don't even care.

10. Bai Zongyi - Kiseki: Dear To Me (Taro Lin)

My guilty pleasure entry. Yes, I know he's a young'un and I should be ashamed but he has those giant yaoi paws (that scene where he is holding both of Zherui's hands with just one of his absolutely makes my teeth sweat) and obviously likes manhandling his crush/lover at any given opportunity. Plus he is a professional baker? Sign me UP.

11. Pisaeng- Be My Favorite (Gawin Caskey)

This is a guy who will cherish you with everything he has and will be a romantic sap about it. (I knew Gawin would be on this list, I just had to determine which role I chose...honestly he could have been on here multiple times)

12. Maya - Laws of Attraction (Silvy Pavida)

She can sing, she can dance, she can be a double agent performing espionage, and she is sooooooo hot it almost hurts to look at her. All I am saying is she can step on me and I will thank her profusely.

13. Neur - Cutie Pie (Tutor Koraphat)

This man showed up fully intending to Cause Problems On Purpose and ended up simping for the quiet, shy, devout member of the friend group he inserted himself into, and we were all of us better for it. Satu. 🙏

14. Babe - Pit Babe (Pavel Phoom)

He's the top (ha!) racer, an alpha, and also 100% babygirl. One smirk from him and I am on my knees. Don't worry about me, though, I'm doing just fine. (I will say that I never thought I would see omegaverse on my screen and yet here we are in this year of our lord)

15. Vegas Theerapanyakul - KinnPorsche (Bible Wichapas)

My problematic meow meow. He's a gangster. He's a killer. He's a sadist into whips, chains, and torture, not necessarily in that order. He's got a bit of a case of little brother syndrome. And I adore him, faults and all.

Aaaaannnddd okay! So, I could likely absolutely keep going, but I think I am going to tap out while I still have at least some dignity left after exposing myself as the thirsty bitch that I am. I've lost track of who all has already done this, so I am not tagging anyone in particular. If you decide to do this, tag me and let me know so we can thirst together!

[somewhereapart]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for tagging me @revolutionsoftheheart! 💋

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

230

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 1,851,307

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently: SVU (EO), MCU/Marvel (Steggy), Once Upon a Time (OQ) (shut up, i'm calling it current bc I intend to continue, I've just been taking a little break....)

Over the course of my fandom life: Battlestar Galactica (Lee/Kara), Private Practice (Charlotte/Cooper), CSI:Miami (Calleigh/Eric), and if you count all the writing I did in notebooks during my teenage years Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel: The Series (Buffy/Angel, Buffy/Spike, Angel/Darla).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Couches (SVU)

Breaking In (Once Upon a Time) (** This one would absolutely have the top spot if the OQ fandom had made the shift to Ao3 sooner. Baker's Dozen would probably be in the top 5 as well, so... honorable mention. lol)

Lip Service (SVU)

Convalescence (SVU)

Mistakes Were Made (SVU)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I used to respond to every single comment, years and years ago. Now I am terrible at responding to comments, for a number of reasons. 1) I just don't have the spoons I used to have, and oftentimes I will start out replying to all the comments and then the day will pass and the next day I maybe don't have the time/energy for it, and then I worry people will think I'm intentionally ignoring their comments, which I am very much not, so I kind of adopted an "if I can't get to everybody, I just shouldn't do anybody" mentality which is probably not the greatest and I am trying to work on... 2) I tend to keep the tab open for my latest fic/update for a day or two to see what comments roll in but then after that, I close the tab and I forget the inbox on Ao3 actually exists so I'm reliant on my email alerts to know when there's a new comment, and I don't check that email every day so sometimes it's dayssss after someone leaves a comment on a not-quite-brand-new work before I see it. And then I feel like I've accidentally left it too late? 3) I feel like I should have more to say than just replying to everyone with "Thanks!", or I feel bad when I have more to say to some reviews than that (because they ask a question, are more specific about something, etc.) but then reply to some of the others with only "Thanks!" Like I feel like the people who just get "thanks!" are gonna feel like I don't value their reviews as much as the people who get a longer response, and then they'll feel bad or like they wasted their effort reviewing and then I'll feel bad bc that is very much not the case. (See above re: "if I can't do it for everyone, I'll just do it for no one.") This is the (one and only) downside to me of the Ao3 comment reply format vs. FFNet review replies -- I LOVE that the Ao3 comments format lends itself better to conversation, but the FFnet review replies went to people's DMs so nobody knew if they got a "Thanks!" on this one and someone else got a paragraph. 4) I feel like it pads the Comment count? Like it looks like the work got double the response that it did, it feels a little like I'm cheating? So in summary, I have Comment reply anxiety, clearly lol. But I love receiving everyone's comments, and I hoard each and every one like a dragon with their treasure, and I appreciate everyone who takes the time to leave one. Maybe in 2024 I should make it a goal to reply to all of them idk...

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Mmmmm.... Hexes, maybe? I was scrolling down the OUAT fic memory lane last night and hit OQ Angst Week, that had some doozies. Maybe Sing A Song of Forgetting, that one was rough.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Baker's Dozen, probably. (Which, fun fact -- I put the OG version back up on Ao3 a few years back "temporarily" and then forgot to take it down, so if you have that and the published book version, now you can compare, I guess 😂)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not much these days, but I have a few times in the past. The one I got the most hate on is actually not on Ao3 because when I moved over my Private Practice fics from FFnet, I didn't move anything incomplete that I wasn't expecting to finish. But it was a Charlotte King fic that dealt with her fiance coming back into her life (before we actually met him on the show) while she and Cooper were broken up, and I was very clear that it was a Charlotte fic not so much a CharCoop fic, but oooooh people were mad that there was a love triangle going on and it was unclear who she was gonna end up with. LIVID. FURIOUS. That's the fic that made me turn off anon reviews for the first time bc I had someone who would just troll me with hate reviews and blow up my DMs. It was a time....

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Indeed, and pretty much... whatever's clever. lol I need more specifics on the last question.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really, no.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes! Someone swiped a chunk of one of my EO fics and reused it like word for word (with the names changed, obvs) in their Jopper fic this summer! And someone linked me to it and I blew up their Comments section on the chapter and they deleted their entire internet presence, it was wild.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, because every time someone asks me for permission to translate one, I say no, bc I am very protective of my work. lol I don't like not being able to vet the translation and know that it comes across the way I want it to. I've talked in the past about having a friend of mine do a Spanish translation of Baker's Dozen, but she literally does translation for a living and she's so familiar with my writing and my writing process (and I'm so familiar with hers) that I can trust the end result would be what I'd want it to be. Also, in my experience, folks who want to translate my work also want to repost it somewhere themselves, and I haaaaaaate that. I'm a control freak about my work, I want it to be where I want it and have control over the managing of it at all times. (I get annoyed when people repost my work to other fic archives/collections, or have it bound in print for themselves, etc. I don't like that. What if I want to go back and change something? Just leave it where I posted it and link back to there, please and thank you!)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, but never to completion.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? It's like choosing between children, I can't.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

If Every Road Led Back Home (the aforementioned Charlotte King fic). Everything else, I am still convinced I'll finish it someday. lol (But if we were gonna be less optimistic than that, What Happens in Vegas, and L'ébauche probably)

16. What are your writing strengths?

Porn with feelings. lol Sex scenes with what I call "heightened realism" -- it's probably consistently better sex than real-world sex, but never so much that it seems implausible or too exaggerated, and I like to include little mishaps, or imperfections, or the real things that often get skipped over (hey condoms, hey lube, hey peeing after sex) because when you've been writing sexy fanfic for two decades, quite frankly it's boring when it's perfect and shiny every time. I have a Steggy fic planned for sometime this year that is basically "their sex life has one consistent and inconvenient obstacle and here's all the ways that works out (and sometimes doesn't work out) for them." I haven't flexed my angst muscles in a while, but I used to absolutely love writing stuff that wrecked people until they were yelling at me in the comments. I miss doing that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Rampant abuse of grammar (I know I'm doing it, I just don't care), overuse of the word "just", and too many parentheticals. Also knowing when to stop. I will use 18 words when 3 would do, and I can very easily write myself into the weeds instead of staying on target and writing every scene with intent toward a goal. (Hi, Breaking In.) Also, finishing things. (Hello again, Breaking In, and every other unfinished WIP both on Ao3/FFnet and in my Google Docs graveyard.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it fits the fic, absolutely, but only a language I can find a native speaker to check and correct for me before I post it. I don't wanna be the one out here with the wonky Google Translate French that makes people who can actually read the language cringe.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Technically, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The first fanfic I ever published on the internet was a Spuffy fic that is now lost to the ages because it was on some fic archive that no longer exists, but I did a lot of pen-and-paper BtVS fanfic writing in middle and high school.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

I'm gonna go with Breaking In, because it's my baby. My Beast. The big guy. My Everest. And also Baker's Dozen because it's Baker's Dozen.

tagging in a no-pressure way (and sorry for any double tags): @goodthingscomeinthrees @behindthelabels @rahleeyah @roboticonography @doctorhelena @lyricalviolet @audreysl0ve @ninzied @somuchwhatever and anyone else who wants to do it!

[dramioneasks]

Hey! I’m improving my English and I would love to do it with the help of my Dramione. So, I’m looking for recommendations of fanfics (maybe if it’ll be onefic is better) with easy English level for I practice. I think I’m B1, and I always try to start reading in English but when appears a lot of things that I don’t know I’m very disappointed and let it go. I’ve already read a lot of fanfics with the help of translation, but would be a pleasure if I could read it in English. 🥺

Please, send me if you have something in your mind.

Thanks for your help! ✨

P.S: I wrote this comment without assistance, sorry for any mistake, how I said “I’m trying” 😁

Hi, try these, hope they help you! :D

The Long Weekend By: cleotheo - T, 3 chapters - When Lucius and Narcissa agree to look after their grandchildren for the weekend, Lucius assumes it will be a breeze. However, he wasn’t counting on his five year old granddaughter, Lyra, who is a bit of a handful and manages to keep her grandfather busy all weekend. Short three part story.

To All the Wizards I’ve Loved Before - takenbytheview - M, 7 chapters - “What if—” Malfoy begins, twisting his signet ring with the forefinger and thumb of his other hand. “What if you didn’t tell him?” “What?” “What if we let people think we were actually together? Just for a little while. Not just the Weasel. Everybody.” A Dramione Eighth Year adaptation of Jenny Han’s To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.

A Touch of Fate By: cleotheo - T, 6 chapters - While celebrating Ginny’s birthday at a swanky spa hotel, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are shocked to run into their old friend, Hermione Granger, who they haven’t seen for several years. Can old friends be reunited, or will Harry and Ron jumping to conclusions ruin things beyond repair? Reunion style story.

Baker’s Dozen - DarkoftheMoon, Maria81 - T, one-shot - As part of the new and mandatory Muggle Studies curriculum, 8th year students are paired together for a year-long practicum in the culinary arts. If only Draco were interested in either.

Love and Other Historical Accidents by PacificRimbaud - T, 13 chapters, Words: 155,397 - Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy never intended to blow up their life’s work, but that’s rather what they’ve gone and done. Now they’re trapped 200 years in the past, with a broken Time Turner, a missing snuff box, a handful of overly-eligible daughters, and a House-elf with a grudge. It will require the combined power of their keen intellects to get them home. Too bad they despise one another. For fans of J.K. Rowling, Jane Austen, and P.G. Wodehouse, a historical romantic comedy all about time, and getting the hell out of it.

1 teaspoon of Vanilla and a full bottle of LoveBy: dracorpheus - T, one-shot - After the War, Draco moves to Muggle London to become a baker. He also teaches young children at a nearby school how to bake. One of the parents decides she needs cooking lessons as well.

The Muggle Telephone by gloivy - T, one-shot - Draco finally caved and bought one of those muggle telephones everyone is going on about, though he doesn’t quite understand how it works yet. A social media AU.

Owl SPEW By: kaitward - T, one-shot - The beginning of a relationship, told through a series of letters.

Fireworks By: cleotheo - T, 10 chapters - A party at the end of seventh year results in major life changes for Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, including the loss of their best friend, Ron Weasley. Can a reunion several years later fix the rift, or are some things too broken to ever be fixed? Reunion style story.

The Dangers of Meddlesome Redheads by frostykitten - T, 12 chapters - Ginny thinks Hermione needs to stop waiting around to be swept off her feet, but when she casts a spell on her friend to help her get that special someone, things don’t go exactly as she’d planned… Hermione may just kill her for her meddling.

Future Tripping By: Miss Dorktastic - T, 2 chapters - A few weeks into his eighth year at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy has a world-bending epiphany. Throw in some crystal balls, a crush and a little bit of jealousy and what he gets is way more than he ever imagined. Or… The 5 times Draco Malfoy’s feelings for Hermione Granger terrified him and the one time it didn’t.

-Lisa

[commiemartyrshighschool]

Man, what a mess I tripped over.

I know I should just fully disengage, but the circle of people whining about me being a faux radical because I said I wanted bigger changes than minor fixes to corporate governance and got snarky after being told off for that are in and of themselves fascinating.

They've devised a "new queer flag" because the 1978 rainbow Gilbert Baker designed "looks like you tossed every other flag in the blender" and he didn't know proper vexology. They are all VERY invested in social justice except where it concerns Palestinians and this flag appears to be the banner of the person out here saying Israel is autistic coded and it's ableist to assume the officials mean it when they say they intend to kill everybody in Gaza.

Crazy making.

[spoke-n-languish]

A hero’s journey…

…into town, to get some eggs and a carton of milk, and then back again to his abode to stow them safely in his refrigerator: mission accomplished.

I know that I’ve fucked this up for everybody, and I truly am sorry. It has become abundantly clear that the script was never intended to carry on this long. I have disappointed many people over the years, but never an entire community at once in addition to everyone that I love and care about. Even people that never liked me and were certain I would fail have become taciturn at the onus that maintaining this production has assayed on their erstwhile quotidian rut. I don’t think that the blame should fall entirely onto my shoulders as I never asked for this nor have I yet quit trying (I really just don’t know what to do), but as nobody has materialized from Narnia, or the Æther, or the shadow lands of Nod, or wherever it is that you have secreted yourselves away to, for everyone else affected - mine is the only face they can see to scowl at.

Initially I was consumed with grief and broken by betrayal… but I got better and formulated a plan (which I thought had reasonable odds of success), but then I discovered that the belaborments and woeful outcries of my ravaged heart and shattered soul had successfully provided more than adequate distraction to allow me to fall prey to an extraordinarily elaborate mash-up of the 3-card Moanaté Badger Game with a HoneyPotter Pig-in-a-Poke overshadowing a “South Park” Oculus Rift-‘Van Winkle’, all neatly tucked into one Dickens of “A Stargate Christmas Carol: Special Victims Unit” all for “A Fistful of Dollars” with the Spanish Prisoner left at the altar of ‘Affinity’. Needless to say. I did not pick the “lucky lady” out of the tertiantella Danse Machiavellian that I found mysclf all aswirl 1N. (In fact, I’m certain even this does not adequately enunciate the subtle variegated nuances, and delicately layered (as if a master baker’s baklava or tiramisu) and nimbly interwoven puppeteering of this magna opera which I praise optime cum laude!

But as fun as it is to masquerade and I can only imagine the rush of being included in the conspiratorial hoodwinking with a wink and a Nod to your Corner then Bow to your Beau, then Dosey-Do and Around we go; Promenate in the Gutter with a Beaver-Fur Cap, now 2 x 2 Through the Gate with the Clap; From our Cueric ETSRDA you’ll take your Cues, Tea Cup Chain or Chain-Gang Thru; Swing your Hoe-Down she’s an Arky Belle then Top the Coffee Kitty like a Faux Angel; Sashay the Phantom in the Swill; Yellow Rock, Red Rock, and the Star-Tips the Frill!

All quite synchronized and very exciting to be a part of, but you can only square dance for so long before it becomes wearying and eventually (despite the fervor of the foile à d’ville) being told exactly where, when, and what to do next at each ‘turn’ by the gent caller can lose a little luster. One may desire a return to a more familiar and comfortably secure routine, and so is the ambient temperature around the town. Certainly not a soul has betrayed the confidence of the games-master(s), and all facades have been dutifully maintained… all roles unequivocally performed, but to a trained eye (or to a wildly moonstruck third), the heart-force driving it isn’t as strong as it was in the onset.

I do not want anyone to misconstrue this very key point I am about to make here: I in no way, shape or form am belittling or diminishing in any way the communally singular and titanic efforts wrought by the amazingly generous, patient and hard-working people of this community as much to the contrary, I am awe-struck by how much you all have done and magnificently so… it is one of the reasons I am sometimes brought literally to tears being moved so by graces demonstrated by all for just one who has never been deserving of any of it and I know that I will never be able to repay this. I understand that many of you see these forays as a lesson to my laxitudinal nonchalance towards arrearages owed (which is understandable as that is how this particular backdrop has been painted), but that debt I was always aware of and it grew out of hand by my own decisions for it to do so… but the debt that has me hammered into place is the debt of kindness and gratitude I now owe to each and every one of you which I can devote a hundred lifetimes over and still not repay in full.

But, what I believe I am understanding in an emotional undercurrent sort of way, is the fatigue from attrition of performing at such a high demand for perfection for longer than was originally written in the playbill. And for this, I believe I do shoulder the yoke of responsibility. Not intentionally but rather by default as I too have been kept at a philharmonic emotional symphony and just beaten to and fro on a mental and spiritual level that I fear I missed key opportunities and just through the blindness of the damned did not see when I was to have performed my role, played my part, and delivered the quintessential metamorphosis and rebirth to deliver us all from this eternal winter. I am so sorry to everyone. You have all worked so diligently for so long and so hard for this and I wish that I could do that one thing required of me and provide that release everyone is so ready for… but I still don’t know what it is. I surely must have missed a critical clue or tip as I know it must have been given but I’m afraid I’m my distraught state I passed it or did not hear it correctly. You must all be tired of having to carry on for one who can’t even carry his own weight it would seem and I cannot blame you or fault you if you do. All I can offer is to redouble my efforts (which I believe I have said so much now that surely I am at a least 256x my original efforts) …which should put me somewhere around 176.64x full effort given {sorry, just a little math humor}. But if you don’t see me out and about and getting in the way, please understand that I am still trying, still doing what I can to solve this… for everyone’s sake.

I have been manipulated more so than anyone through these productions, but I am still determined as ever to bring this to a close regardless of personal cost because I cannot allow any of you to suffer excess burden any more than you already have for my expense. If you don’t know me yet, just please understand that while it may not seem like it, I really do sincerely want the best for everyone and humbly I thank you all for what you have already persevered on my behalf.

La storia di un burattino… for reals, yo!

[rawwkfingers]

Horror of Fang Rock

This was one of my favorite Baker serials so far. His era has had a considerably darker tone than any before (and any of new Who other than arguably seasons 7-9) and while some stories have pulled it off, others felt like they were dark just to be dark

This one definitely deserved to be treated with seriousness. I knew going in that this was an "everybody dies" story, but for some reason I thought there was going to be at least one survivor. I was definitely wrong, and the way the show juxtaposed Leela's glee over the death of the Rutan with all the other death was great

The slow buildup of horror was really well done as well, honestly just a great example of how this show's horror episodes are some of its best. We went over 3/4 of the serial without ever truly knowing what the monster was, just the feeling of growing danger for the cast. Really great work

Leela was better this serial than she has been; she's really turning into one of those characters where the writing often lets them down but I love her anyways. I appreciate the way she was shown to be more active in comparison with the secretary lady, helping show that she's an active member of the plot, but I do wish they'd done it in a way that wasn't so dismissive of the woman. When Sarah Jane dealt with antiquated sexist morals, she always made it an effort to teach her fellow women they deserve better. Leela seemed to get joy out of being stronger than her and that's definitely a sexist way of writing even if it wasn't intended

[f0xd13-blog]

So pls tell me whats the point of that imagery? I see no point. We all know that happened in the past, it's the same as me doing a concert with pictures of samudaripen victims and include also those people in "filinha indiana" like we say it ovee here "queuing" to get killed, where they would just shoot people because their "experiences" went wrong and it was a mess to control them because imagine 100 kids on hormones!

So madonna never got the memo that even in america trans women and people in general are trying to end up with thís sort of propaganda and she just exposed herself as a nazi althought i don even know how that is so out of question to this day.. just like lady caca she uses nazi uniforms and is an italian descent where all those nasty nazism came from (together with germany and romenia and all those places) and even italians are running away from there coz of it .. then every latino country with those italians and germans also get those sort of facists ... hmmm....

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" accept me for being a nazi coz i accept you as a trans and wtv else"

No it's not lol it is when you do shit and a G needs to fix it after it

French was always racist and their major issue is with muslims, kurdish, gypsy, black etc what you intended to say was that they dropped gypsy appropriation which is what you wanted to do there. Josephine baker never "escaped" to japan and hey you know about a G huh? Yah josephine was just the Cross of Camargue

She was na heroe!!! She never 'escaped' there. By now you've already noticed we woupd hide our identities with those thug pendants you use as a symbol in thug culture.. kind of like luchadors and their gimmicks.

I'm only reveling this coz i was told to be me and hey i want this people's record to be cleaned. It's the only way to combat this.

Ps. Remember that horcruxes bullshit in harry potter? This is where the ideia came from. Yah jk knows about us that much which... weird. Well it ain't because i know why... i just don know why would she do a book about it like that.. lez ask hee one day. I promise i don bite oe try to hide your lastest manuacript rowling ;)

Yess "escaping" yo fascist ass it gotta be

When you get so many lies from the same person it can't be random!

Also notice how this videos are done exactly the same way almost like the burn accounts was the same and worst than that is that if you try to comment it will get to another comment section.. this is super dangerous!! Because people be getting hate and then react to it without even knowing it's a trap and the person didn't intended for that comment saying "trash"to appear on one of their face accounts according to algoritmos

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)

⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au

⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)

⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas

⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!

the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!

⤑ masterlist

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

3 juin 1957

The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.

So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.

That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.

You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.  

So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.

“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)

The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.

“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)

She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.

“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)

“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)

A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.

You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.

Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.

While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”

“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.

“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.

“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)

Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake. 

That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.

Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet. 

Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.

However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.

What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?

It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left. 

Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.

Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.

Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.

That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.

He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.

“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”

Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”

“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.

“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.

That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.

Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.

“Jaehyun?”

Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.

“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)

“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)

Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.

Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.

You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.

Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.

Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.

Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.

“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”

“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.

“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”

Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.

“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)

You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.

“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.

“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)

“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.

“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)

“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)

You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.

“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.

“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]

He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no.  It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.

Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.

“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”

“Correct.”

His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.

He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.

“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”

“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”

From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.

Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.

début de juillet 1957

“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]

Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.

The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.

You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.

Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.

Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.

All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.

“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)

He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.

“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)

“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)

He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.

Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.

Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.

“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”

“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”

“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”

Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.

“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”

Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.

You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.

Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.

Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.

As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.

He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.

“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”

Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.

That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.

He’s infatuated by you.

“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.

“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]

He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!

The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.

The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)

“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)

With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.

“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.

Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)

“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)

Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.

Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”

It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.

This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.

Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.

He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.

“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”

He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.

“What are you doing?”

“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”

His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.

Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.

If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.

It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.

Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.

Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.

“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)

Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.

“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)

Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.

None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.

Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.

Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.

“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”

“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”

His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.

“Call me that again, please.”

“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.

This time, it’s different.

When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.

It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.

Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.

Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.

Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.

All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.

You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.

The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.

“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.

“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”

“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”

“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?

He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.

“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”

Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.

“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”

Fin de juillet 1957

So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.

Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.

Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.

In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.

There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.

The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.

Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.

“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”

“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”

His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.

Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.

Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.

“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.

“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,

“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)

You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.

“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.

Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.

Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.

“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”

“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”

The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.

Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.

“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”

The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.

On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.

He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.

Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.

“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.

“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.

Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.

His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.

Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.

From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.

Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.

“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.

“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.

“Still breathtaking.”

But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.

All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.

The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.

“Write to me.”

“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”

Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.

Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.

You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.

Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.

Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.

“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”

The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.

Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.

Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.

Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.

Now, what was he up to?

You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”

Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.

“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)

21 octobre 1957

Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.

“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.

“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.

“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”

For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.

“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.

Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.

“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”

Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”

“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.

“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”

“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”

They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.

“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”

Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.

Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.

A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.

Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.

Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.

But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.

There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.

Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.

Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.

Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.

Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.

“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”

Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”

The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.

Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.

“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”

“I beg your pardon?”

With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.

“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”

Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.

“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.”  Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.

They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.

“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”

“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.

“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”

“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”

Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.

The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.

“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)

He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.

Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.

Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.

“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.

Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?

“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”

“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”

Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.

“He spoke about me to you?”

“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”

As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”

“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”

Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.

You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.

“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”

He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.

When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.

In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.

“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”

“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”

You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,

“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”

“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”

“Is he your favorite muse?”

“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."

You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.

“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)

“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)

Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.

“So tell me about your new book.”

“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”

The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.

“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)

Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.

“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)

Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.

“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.

“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”

A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.

“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.

“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”

You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.

Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.

Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.

As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.

“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.

“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.

“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”

Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.

How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?

What really went down in Provence?

“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.

Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.

Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.

“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”

“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.

You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”

Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”

You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.

Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.

Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.

“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.

“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.

His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.

“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.

“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.

“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)

Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.

Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.

On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.

Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.

He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.

“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.

Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”

In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.

One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.

“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.

“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.

“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)

You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.

Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.

In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.

But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.

“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)

“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”

“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.

Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.

As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.

Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.

Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.

“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)

“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)

Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.

“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)

He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.

“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.

And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.

After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.

Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.

You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.

“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.

“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”

“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.

“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)

“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,

“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)

Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.

Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.

From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.

Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.

“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.

“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)

He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.

From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.

“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)

It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.

“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)

Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.

A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)

The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.

Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.

At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.

“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.

“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)

His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,

“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[wicked-mind]

Last Love: Part Two

Summary: Based on the quote “He may be your first love but I intend to be your last” by Klaus Mikaelson.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Aftermath of domestic abuse, swearing, bitchy mom alert.

Note: This is a small part two because we needed so see more of these two together (:

Part One Here

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

From the moment you told Bucky you love him, he was more motivated to show you how much he loves you. You still had your struggles but Bucky was doing everything he could to show you how much you meant to him. He would pull you into his arms every night and whisper sweet things in your ear until you fell asleep and when you had nightmares, he would wake you up and wipe your tears away as he listened to what you had dreamt of before saying all the right things to make you feel safe again. Steve lived with Bucky so it took a little bit for you to stop flinching when they would start to howl with laughter, but you eventually joined in the laughter when they joked with each other.

It was almost Christmas time again and you were having struggles with the memories of how the last holiday season went. Your nightmares were more frequent and you were in no way in the holiday spirit. You tossed and turned in the bed until Bucky’s arms found you, pulling you against his chest so your face could nuzzle into his neck.

Bucky loved having you next to him. He loved everything about you. He loved the way your nose scrunched slightly when you tried to hold back a laugh or when he would catch you singing softly to yourself when you didn’t think anybody was around. Most of all, he loved having you in his arms and the honor of being the man to keep you safe and love you. After pulling you into his chest, he lets one hand stroke through your hair while the other rubs your back, “Still having bad dreams, babydoll?” He murmurs out to you sleepily, keeping his eyes closed as he rested his head on his pillow.

You nodded into his neck, sniffling a little against his skin as you held back tears. You hated crying from your nightmares. It made you feel like you were still being haunted- like Charlie still had a hold on you, “Yeah… Sorry I woke you.”

Bucky opens his eyes to see his room lit up from the sunlight peaking through the windows and scoots away a little bit to be able to look into your sleepy eyes, moving his hand from stroking your hair to cupping your cheek in his palm, “No need to apologize, sweetheart.” He said with a small smile before pressing his lips to your forehead for a comforting kiss, “How about I make us some breakfast?”

You smile softly up at him, “Blueberry pancakes?”

Bucky nods to you with a smile, “Of course, I’ll even make you some bacon.” He said before dragging himself out of the bed and pulling on some grey sweats. He headed for the door but stopped before he opened it, looking back at you in his bed like he did every morning. It was his favorite thing to see everyday- you looking over at him while tangled in his sheets, “God, you’re gorgeous.” He told you with that crooked grin before heading out the door to go start breakfast.

Once you managed to get yourself dressed in some jean shorts, a white tank top, and one of Bucky’s red flannels, you brushed your hair and teeth before making your way to the kitchen rubbing your eyes sleepily. Your eyes focused on Bucky when he let out a whistle toward you, blushing and taking a seat at table.

Bucky grinned, he loved seeing you wearing his clothes. It just imprinted more in his mind that you were finally his as you were always meant to be, “Damn, doll.” He said over to you while he flipped some pancakes onto a plate, “I thought you looked gorgeous in my sheets…” He carried the plate over and placed it in front of you before placing a finger under your chin, pulling your gaze up to meet his. His lips parted as he ran his eyes up and down you one more time, his tongue flickering out to trace his bottom lip at the sight of you before his pearly whites softly bit down with a small groan passing his lips, “But you in my clothes is a whole other level.”

You blushed at his words, your eyes watching his tongue trail along his bottom lip. He knew what he was doing to you, making your breath catch in your lungs. Luckily, you were seated so you didn’t have to rely on your legs that always felt numb when he talked to you like that, “I like wearing your clothes, smells like you.” You say softly back to him, reaching up a hand to tangle in the back of his hair and pull his lips to yours for a deep kiss.

Bucky groans at the feel of your lips on his. You were like his favorite liquor- making him love drunk with every touch. Every touch from you felt like a gift to him. He couldn’t begin to describe the fire you made him feel. He places one hand on your thigh and the other on the back of your neck, pulling your lips rougher against his and took advantage of the small whimper that passed your lips for his tongue to sneak into your mouth, entangling with yours. Finally pulling away for oxygen, he leans his forehead against yours, “Your pancakes are goin’ to get cold, doll.” He said with that crooked grin, “We can finish that up later."

While you two ate, you discussed the plans for the day. Bucky said he had to go to work for a little but should be back soon and you told him you had to return some books to the library and pick up some new ones to read. You stood up with your plate, on the way to the sink when you ran your hip into the side of the counter, dropping the glass plate to the floor and watching it shatter to pieces. You gasped and brought your hands up to your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes as you look over to Bucky. Anytime you broke something with Charlie it was met with yelling and a few hard slaps to your face. You started spewing out apologetic sobs, “Oh god… I’m.. I’m sorry…”

Bucky stood, noticing the way you reacted and how your eyes immediately started releasing tears. He walks slowly towards you, “Shhh, doll.” He said gently, “It was an accident.” He gently wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, placing you seated on the counter, “Are you okay? Didn’t step in any glass did you?” He gently takes your cheeks into his palm, looking into your eyes with a comforting smile.

You shook your head, “N-no.” You whisper to him, your body shaking slightly in muscle memory as you expected to be punished for breaking the plate, “I’m really sorry… It was my fault and-“ “Stop, sweetheart.” Bucky said softly, cutting you off, “It was an accident. Accidents happen.” He said before gently placing a kiss to your forehead, “You don’t have to apologize. Nobody is upset with you and nobody is going to hurt you. Now breathe with me, okay? In….. Out…”

You breathed in deeply with Bucky’s words and slowly released the air in your lungs, feeling yourself calm down. You did it a few more times with him before reaching up a hand and wiping your tears away on the sleeve of his flannel you wore, “I’m sorry, Bucky..” You breathed out to him, slowly leaning your head on his shoulder, “It’s been bad lately with the holiday coming up… I know you’d never hurt me.”

Bucky wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back softly as you leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling to himself at your warmth you always brought him when you were close, “I know, doll.” He whispers back to you, “I know it’s a hard time for you and that’s alright. I’m here for you.”

After you helped Bucky clean up the shattered plate from the floor and the rest of the dishes from breakfast, you gave him a tight hug and a soft kiss before he left for work. He lovingly stroked your cheek with his calloused fingers and told you that he loves you as he did everyday before he left for work. You managed to talk Steve into going to the library with you, though it didn’t take much convincing. He was happy to help you out especially since he knew you were having such a hard time. Plus there were some new books he wanted to give a read also.

“Thanks for coming with me, Stevie.” You said with a small smile up to him as you walked into the library and placed your books into the return slot.

Steve gave you a gentle smile, his hands tucked into his jeans, “No problem, haven’t been here for a while. I need to catch up on some reading.”

“I’ll be over there if you need me.” You said, pointing over to a section of the library before making your way over. You usually would check out a mixture of books from fantasy to art books but today you felt the need to glance over the self-help books. Maybe there would be something that would help you figure out how to get rid of the hold you felt Charlie still had over you. You grabbed one of the books off the shelf, flipping through the pages and reading some of the passages when you heard a woman clear her throat. You turn your gaze to look at the older woman and instantly froze. Charlie’s mother, Rose.

“Y/N.” The woman said to you, “Haven’t seen you in a long while.”

You bit into your cheek hard enough until you could taste copper in your mouth from blood, “Yeah… Hi, Rose.”

“It’s Mrs. Baker to you now, Y/N.” She said, folding her arms and giving you a soft glare.

As long as you have known Charlie’s mom, you two didn’t get alone. Anything you had ever done in her eyes was never enough and she would always criticize saying that Charlie needed to teach you to be a better woman, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Baker.” You said softly, looking down to the floor.

Rose took the book from your hand in one swipe, “What are you doing in this section?” She asks before reading the cover of the book, “Your Life After Trauma: Powerful Practices to Reclaim Your Identity….” She scoffed and looked at you, “Still living a lie? Going around telling everybody that my son hurt you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, instead biting onto your cheek again as you looked at her with sad eyes.

Rose pushed the book back to your chest, forcing you to grab ahold of it. She took a step closer to you, pointing one of her fingers in your face, “My son tried with you. Tried to turn you into a woman worthy of being his wife even though I told him you were a waste of time.” She hissed out.

“What’s going on here?” Steve asked, suddenly appearing beside you after hearing some of the conversation. He had a deep frown on his face and was glaring daggers at the woman who seemed to be scolding you.

The woman looks at Steve before her eyes returned to you, “I wouldn’t trust this one, young man. She’s a liar and a manipulator- she will ruin your reputation.” She hissed out before turning to walk away.

You frowned and walked forward, “I’m not a liar, Mrs. Baker.” You said, finding your courage as you gripped the book in shaking hands, “Your son is a monster. Anything that has been done to his reputation is his own fault from the way he beat me. You should be just as upset that he dared to lay a violent hand on a woman.”

Mrs. Baker turned to face you, listening to your words with narrowed eyes. Once you finished your piece, she scoffed at you with a roll of her eyes before walking away.

Steve walked forward to stand beside you and looked at you as you still stared off after her, tears slowly slipping down your face as you clutched the book tightly to your chest. He sighed and placed a hand on your shoulder softly, “You alright?”

You sniffled and nod slowly, blinking yourself back into reality, “Yeah… That was… That was Charlie’s mom…” You stammer out quietly, looking down at the floor again.

Steve let out another sigh and a shake of his head. Geez, you couldn’t catch a break, “C’mon. Let’s get the rest of the books you want then we will go out for some feel good food.” He said softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to help you feel safe. He had taken on the role as a big brother to you over the past year and hated seeing you upset almost as much as Bucky did, “Burgers, fries, and milkshakes on me.”

You nod and gave him a half smile before returning to quickly picking out the books you wanted. Steve stayed close to you in case Charlie’s monster of a mother came back to give you another earful, walking you up to the counter to check out your books before heading to the car and stopping at one of the diners. You sat across from him, dipping fries into your chocolate milkshake. You were already feeling a little better after the horrible interaction with Charlie’s mom. You eyed Steve suspiciously when he kept ordering more baskets of fries even though both of you were barely touching them, already full from the burgers, “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

Steve looked at you with a small smile, leaning back in the opposite side of the booth, “Me? Up to something?” He asks, “Never.”

You point a french fry at him, your eyes narrowing, “You’re lying.” You stated before dipping your fry in your chocolate milkshake, “But you bought me food so I’ll let it go. For now.”

You had been out of the house for hours with Steve and you knew he was distracting you but couldn’t figure out why. Eventually Steve checked his phone before waving the waitress down for the check where you two argued about splitting it before he ended up paying for the whole lunch. You kept eyeing him suspiciously the whole car ride home as he wore a big goofy grin on his lips like he knew something you didn’t. When he pulled up to the house, you saw Bucky’s truck in the driveway and you look over to Steve, “I thought he was working today?”

Steve smiled over to you, pulling in the driveway and turning off the car, “He was working. Just not at work.” He informed, getting out of the car.

You get out and follow him up the steps of the house, giving him one last suspicious look as he opened the door for you. You walked in and froze, looking around the living room. It was like Christmas had literally just thrown-up all over the house. There was a tall tree in the living room decorated beautiful, fresh poinsettias on every surface and stockings hung up on the mantle with yours, Bucky’s, and Steve’s names on them written sloppily in silver glitter. Then your eyes fall on Bucky who was standing there with a Santa Hat on and holding a box wrapped in gold wrapping paper, “Bucky…” You breathed out as you walked towards him.

Bucky set the present down on the coffee table before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him as he wore that big cocky grin on his lips, “Figured you needed some Christmas Spirit…” He murmurs out to you before pressing a kiss to your lips, “You didn’t get a Christmas last year because of all the shit. So I’m going to give you the best Christmas you’ve ever had, sweetheart.”

Your lips slowly curved up into a smile at him, your eyes for the first time in a long time filling with happy tears, “It’s beautiful and perfect.” You whisper to him, wrapping your arms up and around his neck, “Thank you.”

Bucky smiles, kissing your cheeks as the tears fell to kiss them away, “Almost perfect.” He said, releasing you from his grasp and picking the gold wrapped present back up and holding it out for you, “This is for you. Early Christmas gift.”

You took the box, gently unwrapping the paper and setting it aside before opening the box. You gasped at the nutcrackers staring back at you. Almost similar to the ones your grandmother had given you, the ones Charlie had broken last year. You gently ran your fingers over one of their faces, “They’re almost the same…” You whisper out, swallowing a sob. You suddenly frown up to Bucky, “I didn’t get you anything…”

Bucky grabs the box of nutcrackers, putting it down on the coffee table before wrapping one arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as his other hand went up to the back of your neck, “Yes you did.” He replied with a grin, “You gave me your heart and love. That’s the best gift I could’ve ever received, sweetheart.”

You smile and blush at his words, standing on your toes and pressing your lips to his soft ones, pushing yourself against his body until he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist with a soft giggle, “I can think of another gift to give you…” You whisper with another giggle after trailing kisses up his jaw, smiling when you heard a small groan pass his lips.

“Dear god, at least take it upstairs.” Steve interrupts, adverting his eyes from the view of you tangled in Bucky’s arms, legs around his waist as Bucky’s hands had moved to rest on your ass.

“Gladly.” Bucky growls out, tightening his grip on you as he started for the stairs to take you up into the bedroom. He moved his hands to squeeze your bottom slightly as you left lingering kisses along his neck, nipping at his skin. He groans again then chuckles, “Oh, sweetheart… I love you.”

_____________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @bibliophilewednesday@stcrryslibrary @redhairedfeistynerd

@shawnie--jo @bvckys-doll Here is the part two for Last Love since we needed some fluffy happiness (:

[ask-healthy-light]

Though the room was rather crowded, and loud conversations were happening all around, Light managed to enjoy their breakfast, consisting of fresh bread with some toppings, juice and a cup of tea. Harvest, Caff and Decaf, and Banana were brilliant bakers, and everybody was very appreciative of their skills in the kitchen, always managing to make amazing meals for many Ponies.

After Light finished their breakfast, and had helped to clean up and put away the tableware, they headed upstairs to grab their bag. In their room, they remembered the book of Ancient Tales they had read the night before, still debating in their mind whether or not to take it with them. Cursing themselves for their curiosity, they placed the book in their bag, and headed back down.

Though Light was somewhat struggling to stay awake, they felt more sleepy than tired, and planned to take a nap in the afternoon to try and get some better sleep. As they got ready, the rest of the group was preparing to head out as well. Celestia would leave the Centre within the next few hours, and as they had promised her, the group planned to meet her as she left.

Afterwards, they would collectively head to the Palace where the setup for the celebrations were underway already. Violin had left earlier in the morning to the theatre, and if everything went well, the Royal Orchestra would be present at the Palace already, busy with their setup. When everyone was ready, the group left to head towards the Medical Centre.

The group arrived a little while later and took a seat in the foyer. Light headed to the café, intending to purchase a cup of coffee, which they hoped would help them stay awake longer. When they entered, the lady behind the counter recognised the Kirin, and after they asked them how they were doing, they wondered if Light found out what the note they had gotten meant.

Light replied that it's a long and complicated story, but in the end, they met the Pony who had left the note, who gave them more cryptic clues and strange paths to follow, neither of which had, thusfar, lead to anything of use. The lady replied that all would end up alright in due time, and prepared their cup of coffee.

Thanking the lady, Light turned to head out of the café. When they got back, Light realised they had forgotten to ask if anyone else wanted a drink. They placed down their drink and asked the rest of the group if they wanted anything, and Light got many requests for various drinks, both hot and cold.

They made a note of all that the group wanted and headed to the café again, where they placed the order for the group. It would take a little while, so Light took a seat at the counter and chatted a bit with the kind lady as she prepared the drinks for the group. As they were talking, they started smelling a strange scent. One that they, unfortunately, both recognised.

Light got up to look around as the lady opened the doors and windows, trying to get the stench out. The smell of ash and smoke, as if something was burning, the same smell as they had smelled the day before. It was very potent, yet there was nobody else in the room, besides Light and the lady, which confused them. Where could it be coming from?

Light apologised to the lady for the behaviour of their associate, for his continued chaotic antics were not appreciated. As the lady started spraying air freshener around, Light walked around the room, trying to find him. Realising the smell came from the air conditioning, Light ran upstairs and found Boom on the roof, eating... something. In a fiery tone, they asked him:

"To be honest, I'm quite surprised you're back in town after the stunt you pulled. What is it this time?"

(Thanks for reading! Please feel free to send a question or a thought you had! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

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Featuring: Banana Pie from @askbananapie Boomlord from @thedumbguywithaheart43 Light Rain, Cherry Cream, Green Apple and Starshine Nova from @ask-light-rain-and-buds Caff and Decaf from @askcaffeinehazard Harvest Duran from @duran301 Solar Eclipse and Twilight Sparkle as Twilight Eclipse from @asktwilighteclipse Violin Sunrise from @ask-violinsunrise

[a-deed-without-a-name]

Dean was already pretty big when he started going to ‘Angel’s Delight,’ the new baker in town. The Baker, Cas, is cute and the food is AMAZING. How can he say no?

The chairs were fairly sturdy when he Stryker going, but over the months the creaking had grown more and more pronounced, until one day the chair finally breaks under him. Dean is on the floor embarrassed, and doesn’t know what to do having just made a fool of himself in front of his crush.

He needn’t worry though, because Cas asks him out then and there.

"Wh-what?" Blinking rapidly, Dean stared up at Castiel. Cas - that was what it said on the nametag, flanked by little cartoony wings, pinned to the strap of his apron, and that was what Dean had been calling him this whole time.

He couldn't have heard what he thought he did. His head was still swimming with shock, his ass still smarting from the impact with the floor...though not (he thought guiltily) as much as it could have been. Should have been. If he hadn't had so much of a cushion.

Cas, crouching, smiled at him. God, was he ever cute. Blue eyes, scruff, messy black hair with pale streaks in it...those had confused Dean at first, since Cas was nowhere near old enough to be going gray, until he saw him run a flour-covered hand back through it at the end of a shift. Way too cute for Dean, even as he'd been several months ago.

"Let me repeat myself," Cas said, in that raspy, gravelly voice that practically sounded like sex itself. "Would you like to go to dinner sometime?" He glanced around them. "I'd ask if you wanted to get coffee, but, well...we've been having coffee together for a while now, haven't we?"

Dean guessed he was right about that. Ever since he'd started coming after work in addition to in the morning, stopping by with his eye on the day-old pastries Cas always marked generously down and, eventually, started giving to him for free, they had a little bit of a routine once the bakery was empty of everybody but them. Dean ate, drinking coffee, and Cas made a cup himself, drank it while leaning against the display case, and they made conversation. Much as they could between the doughnuts and Danishes Dean couldn't stop cramming in his mouth.

He'd known even then it wasn't a good idea, making such a pig of himself in front of Cas, even if he didn't really seem to mind. (Maybe he had. He'd sure watched him closely, and looked at Dean's belly a lot.) He'd gone from "chubby" to "fat" to...whatever he was now in eight months' time, and he didn't have anybody to blame for what had just happened but himself.

"...why?" he asked blankly, because he honestly could not fathom why Cas would want to take him to dinner.

Cas chuckled softly, then asked him, "Why do you think?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, even though he wasn't sure what he was going to say, because his mind was pretty much blank. But before he could answer, one of Cas's hands was on his gut, very full of carbs and sugar, very round, very heavy (as the wreckage of the chair scattered around him could prove). And the other one was on his plump cheek, where a humiliated blush was still slowly fading. And Cas's lips were on his.

His mouth was soft and warm, and tasted like coffee and powdered sugar.

Dean's blush came back with a vengeance.

"O-oh," he said shakily, when Cas finally pulled away. It took him a second after that to remember how to breathe.

Cas chuckled again. "Yes. 'Oh.'" He examined Dean, then cocked his head, almost birdlike. One of a thousand little tics Dean had picked up on over the months, acting like stepping stones leading him further into love with Cas. "You do like men, correct?"

"Yes," Dean blurted, and barely stopped himself from tacking on I like you.

Cas nodded, as if Dean had confirmed a suspicion. "I do, as well. I like large men. Very large." He straightened. "I have some apple pie cupcakes in the back. I had intended to put them out tomorrow, but...I believe they need to be tested first. Would you be interested?"

Dean smiled up at him from the floor, grinning so wide it practically pushed the fat of his cheeks up in front of his eyes.

"Yes," he said. "Hell yeah."

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Tonight’s (and the next few days’) repast...

Decided to take my own advice and made a big, creamy mess of pinto beans, flavored with 1/2pound of bacon, and instead of rice, I made cheddar-bacon scratch biscuits.

I’ll post the recipe in a bit as an edit.  I’m gonna go pry a coupla those biscuits apart and insert butter.  And have me some supper.

Here’s where I am wondering if people would be interested in me doing cooking videos and baking videos.  I can do the text & picture thing all day long, but in this strange day of everybody making a video for every goddamn thing they do, I’m just wondering if anybody would be interested.  Let me know...either message me or add a comment.

Now, there’s things I think everybody should know how to cook, as a matter of survival.  A big pot of beans to last through the week can be done up any number of ways, with the extra added bonus of Refried Beans for dip at the end of the week.

I’m a cast iron devotee, but you work with whatcha got.  Now, there are all these pissy instructions about presoaking and all that crap.  Fuck that.

Put a teakettle full of water on to boil.

Get you a 1 pound bag of dry pinto beans and a pkg of bacon, and an onion and some garlic!  Take that bacon, cut it in half, and put half in the meat drawer for tacos later in the week, and cut the remaining half in half and fry that shit up in the pot you intend to cook the beans in.

Once you’ve got a little grease from the bacon, chop that onion up and add.  Stir around until coated and then turn the heat down a little and cover.  About five minutes later, those onions will have begun to clear, and have nice crispy brown edges.

Take those dried pintos, make sure there’s no rocks/debris in them, rinse in a colander and throw ‘em in the pot.  By now your teakettle of water should be boiling and you pour that in with your beans and bacony goodness.

Fill that teakettle again and put it back on to boil.

Put the lid on your freshly watered beans and bacon and let it come up to a boil.  Stir occasionally.  ONce you get it to boiling, turn the heat down slightly, put the lid on, making sure you have a vent opening to let the steam out.

They’ll be good to go for about an hour before you have to add that second kettle of water.  That should do it, and you’ll just boil the shit outa those beans for about 3.5 to 4 hours total.

By then, the bacon will have emulsified, and those pintos should be nice and creamy.

The biscuits, I just generally “wing it”.  Here’s the basic lowdown:

Oven to 450 first.

Take 3 cups of flour, 1 tablespoon (plus a tiny bit more) of Baking Powder, 1 teaspoon of salt into a large stainless steel bowl.

Take about 1/3 cup each of butter and shortening, cut into chunks into the flour mixture.  Take your “Bakers’ Brass Knucks” (righteous dough cutter) and get after it.  I have a technique that’s tried and true over the last 40-odd years of makin’ biscuits.

You put the bowl in the sink, on a towel.  You start with your dough cutter, at an angle, cutting into the mix in the bowl.  You start poundin’ that shit as you rotate the bowl, using that rotation to help you get the shortening and butter cut in so that it is like damp sand.  Takes some work!  Get in there and git’r’done!

Once your fats are cut in, grab your milk, a block of sharp cheddar cheese and yer grater, and about six to eight strips of cooked, cold, chopped bacon,

Oh, and grab yer milk, too.  Whole.  ALways whole, regular milk.

Grate about 8 ounces of that cheese into the bowl, and toss in yer chopped bacon, and pour about a cup and a half of milk in there, and wait about a minute, then start slowly incorporating it.  GIVE THE FLOUR TIME TO SOAK UP THE MILK!  Add maybe a cup more, but that’s ALL.  Start forming a dough, get it going in the bowl with just your hands, and then turn out onto floured countertop.

Take a “bash-n-chop” blade thingee and use it to help you scrape the dough off the countertop (stainless steel work table is what I have) and FOLD it over, knead it down, Scrape and FOLD, about four more times.  Now roll out to a little over a 1/2 inch thick...almost 3/4″ thick.

Cut into circles with a biscuit cutter and place in cast iron skillet and/or pizza pan, just touching.  Toss into the oven for about 12 minutes for the pizza pan and 16 for the cast iron.  They take longer because of the thickness of the pan.

But that, Babies, is how you make a mess o’beans and some kick-ass scratch biscuits!  Feed yerselves!  Feed yer neighbors!  It’s peasant food, and I’m pretty sure we’re all peasants now.  LOL.

Enjoy!

[justletmeplayminecraft]

Hermitcraft Great British Bake Off AU

(Or the Great British Baking Show outside the UK)

With the start of a new series, I thought I'd compile this AU I came up with a while ago. Big shout out to @skywillsometimeswrite who helped me brainstorm nearly all of this (and accidentally got into the series sorry. Time to get emotional over bakers again.) 

It's Great British Bake Off, where the hermits take the place of the contestants, judges and some of the crew (with the recap boys as the hosts!) It follows the structure of the show, but to add maximum fluffiness, nobody leaves and the show works on a point system instead. The loser of each week does the washing up. (Not that the winner matters, this is all about the shenanigans.) Further explanations and what role each hermit fills with a short bio is under the cut!

The recording structure follows the usual routine. It takes place over several weeks, with the recording happening at the weekend. They stay at a hotel over the weekend. On the Saturday they record the Signature Challenge and the Technical. On the Sunday they film the Showstopper. Each week is themed, with the challenges fitting into that theme. The themes are often based around a certain kind of baking (pastry, bread, chocolate) but sometimes around time periods, places, or diets. I recommend googling or watching an episode of the show but a brief explanation of the challenges:

The Signature Challenge: They're given a certain thing (cake, pastry, biscuit, etc) to create. They've been able to practice at home. This is the opportunity to show personality and a home-cooked, rustic style with tried and tested bakes.

The Technical: The Judges take turns each week to set a recipe for an often uncommon bake. The recipe is bare-bones and the bakers have to use their intuition and knowledge about baking to create what's intended. This round is unpractised, and judged blind, with the judges outside the tent for the duration. The aim is to perfectly replicate the recipe given and that's how they're judged.

The Showstopper: A chance to bring out the big guns! They're often given a theme and a type of bake and then the contestants can go wild. The aim is to create something of professional quality, that makes the judges go 'wow' and still tastes good. Also practiced over the week, though sometimes less due to the size of the bakes.

Now onto the hermits:

The Judges are TFC and Biffa. TFC is the friendlier of the two. He does his best to find positives in bakes, although he enjoys making jokes about things that go wrong. Most of the contestants come to think of him as a grandad. Biffa gives more thorough criticism, but it helps the contestants improve a lot and is tailored towards the advice they need. They enjoy talking to the contestants about their bakes and lives outside the tent, both on and off camera. They've both had long careers in the industry.

The Hosts are our recap boys, Pixelriffs and Zloy. They're a dynamic duo in front of the camera, riffing off each other and the contestants naturally. They have a good balance of improvisation and planned skits. Zloy will doodle scenes from the tent during their downtime.

In alphabetical order, the Contestants:

1. Beef: Works as a butcher. It's often joked about, and not helped by him spilling red food colouring on his apron early in the series. He's incredibly good at piping and often creates artworks on top of his bakes for decoration. Absolutely smashes any biscuit decoration.

2. Cleo: Works as a teacher. Ironically, has to be censored at least once an episode and continuously hopes none of her students watch. It's hard to tell what she's doing until the last minute when she pulls it all together. She enjoys making little figures from fondant or rice crispy marshmallow mix.

3. Cub: Runs a sports equipment company. He likes coming up with creative solutions to the challenges and surprises the others by how focused he can become once in the zone. He has a deadpan sense of humour and a willingness to commit to bits. Often banters with Scar.

4. Etho: His job seems to change every time he mentions it. It never fails to catch the others off guard. He rarely explains his bakes, and his ability to mix flavours that shouldn't work but somehow do is infuriating. Sometimes, as he waits for things to bake, he uses the free time to play music on the baking equipment.

5. False: Works as a bodyguard. She says the details of her job are classified and never brings it up again. Nobody is sure if she's joking, but she's built. She's a very precise builder, with perfectionist tendencies that can sometimes come back to bite her if she focuses on them too much. She jumps between different themes with ease when decorating.

6. Grian: Works as an architect. He's fond of going big with his bakes, trying to push the limits of what's possible. However, he often gives himself too much to do, and ends up having to rush, disguise unfinished parts or the other contestants help him finish. He's bubbly in front of the camera and enjoys the occasional prank.

7. Impulse: Works as an electrical engineer. Also anxiety central. He's a very technical baker who's brilliant at following recipes. However, he will restart a bake if very minor things go wrong, which often leaves him pressed for time. Despite this, he's one of the most likely people to jump in and help someone who's struggling.

8. Keralis: Owns a bookstore. He loves decorating and his bakes are always some of the prettiest in the tent. Although he has a sleek, modern style, he can branch out when needed. He makes up his own pronunciation for ingredients, bakes and the other people in the tent. Gradually, everyone else starts using them too.

9. Scar: Works as a landscaper. Skilled at detailing and has out of the box thinking for his designs. Likes creating vehicles. However, sometimes he finds himself hiding bad baking with his decoration. His name proves accurate when half of his arm ends up bandaged in the first episode. Becomes good friends with Bdubs because of this.

10. Stress: Works as a personal trainer. Her bakes are always bright and colourful. It isn't a Stress bake if it doesn't make you smile. She's fairly equal on her decorating and her baking and enjoys a cartoonish style. A delight to have in the tent, loves helping other contestants and cheers them up if something doesn't go to plan.

11. xB: Medical researcher. His bakes are always creative, with fun stories behind them, if a bit dark. He's soft-spoken and doesn't raise his voice. He never quite swears but always comes close. The others can tell something's gone wrong when they hear a quiet 'dangit' or 'son of a-' and somebody jumps to find out what's happened.

12. Xisuma: Works as bee-keeper. He loves big shapes and patterns in his bakes. Often keeps things healthy(ish). He's primarily a technical baker and researches and practices his bakes extensively. However, he has a tendency to panic and makes silly mistakes (salt instead of sugar, forget to turn on the oven, etc.) 

The Crew Members:

Camera Crew:

Mumbo: Sometimes mistaken for being on a work placement/internship. He enjoys his work and takes a lot of the detail shots of the bakes. Although he can keep to himself, Iskall often brings him out of his shell and encourages him to chat with the contestants.

Ren: He's an incredibly chill presence to be around. He'll do his best to chat with contestants in-between filming and try to calm them down or hype them up. Usually he films stressful sequences with a reassuring smile and kind words. He enjoys singing in their downtime.

Zed: Very bouncy. He enjoys rushing around the tent to get over the shoulder shots or focus on the detail. He's good friends with Tango, and maybe he occasionally worries he’s ‘broken’ something to get the chance to talk to him on set. 

Sound:

Wels: He's calm and organised. He tests everybody's microphones are working and manages audio levels. He's good at handling distractions, but if they manage to catch him off-set they find he has a fun sense of humour and can give genuinely good advice. Enjoys singing to test the microphones when he thinks nobody's listening.

Wardrobe:

Iskall: Most of his work is done off-set, and he becomes good friends with the contestants, discussing their plans for bakes and chatting. He'll dart onto set to touch up make up when the cameras are off, offering words of encouragement as he does. Though it’s a bit concerning when he calls people’s bakes ‘of doom’.

On-site Medic:

Bdubs: Bdubs is a familiar sight with the accident prone contestants. He's always there with calm words and enthusiasm, talking the contestant down from their worry about their injury, helping them to relax. Despite his silliness, it's obvious he takes his job seriously. The contestants are glad to have him.

Set Manager:

Jevin: A bit chaotic, but he helps make sure things are set for filming. He enjoys getting the ingredients ready for the day and working out what they'll need. He also enjoys bullying Hypno. They've worked together a few times now. He enjoys a good joke when he gets the chance.

Hypno: Fairly relaxed, but he can appreciate a good joke and he appreciates Jevin. He helps organise ingredients and makes sure that things run smoothly on set. Very precise with his work, he doesn't cut corners and makes sure everyone has what they need, when they need it. A good person for the contestants to talk to.

Researcher:

Joe: He takes great pride in searching recipes, trying new things and adding them to his repertoire. Sure he might use a few too many words, but he's good at his job. He's not often on set, working mostly with Jevin and Hypno behind the scenes. But he might step in as tech if he's needed. A bit of a cryptid to the contestants.

Technicians:

Tango: A good friend of Zed. Even though he has some... Less than professional terms, he does his job well, and enjoys the opportunities he gets to socialise with the bakers. Very smiley and friendly, however if he’s in the tent, it’s likely something has gone very wrong. He's terrible at baking himself, much to the amusement of those who find out.

Doc: More serious than Tango, he's there to do a job, not make friends. Then he ends up making friends anyway. They're infectious. Grian enjoys 'breaking' things to annoy him (and have a chance to pull him on set to talk to him.) He does, secretly, enjoy the shenanigans the contestants get up to. But he'd never admit it.

Keeping in mind, I care less about the accuracy of this and more about The Shenanigans:

The first time Xisuma gets everything correct in a bake, he is convinced he’s still got something wrong. He spends the entire time until judging expecting there will be something wrong with it that they only discover during judging. A lot of memes are made out of his worrying.

At the end of filming during the heatwave, they have a lake party. Someone challenges Cub to jump in the lake and he cannonballs straight in. The others are surprised. Scar, who knows him well enough by then, is not. Doc is dragged in. Xisuma sits neatly on the edge and looks so relaxed they’d feel too guilty pulling him in. Keralis sits next to him and splashes him a little instead.

Cleo will make frequent asides to her students to try and impart good messages. Sometimes she swears during them. Then swears again upon realising. She uses her teacher voice on the other contestants a few times by accident (and on purpose.)

Someone doubts False’s strength. It’s probably Grian. She makes a beeline straight for him and hauls him onto her shoulder. And possibly into the lake. She makes it her mission to pick up most of the guys, whether they’re ready or not (with prior consent, of course.)

Stress and False work out together in the mornings. Sometimes some of the other contestants will join them and she’ll lead an impromptu work out session. She also does yoga in the evenings to calm down after filming. A fair few join her for that. 

Some of Etho’s jobs include: ‘I’m a gardener so I want this cake to include edible flowers’, ‘I’m a beekeeper so I wanted to use honey.’, ‘I’m a piano tuner so music is a big part of my life’, ‘I used to hack as a part-time job’. His job subtitle changes each episode. He gets a lot of concerned looks from other contestants.

Grian and Scar become frenemies because they’re bench buddies. Grian loves bullying Mumbo off-camera. He argues with Iskall over wearing anything but a red sweater. He loves complimenting everyone’s bakes. He makes a lot of friends. 

Tango and Zed often try to take jobs on the same productions. Zed likes to bother Tango with stupid ways to make broken tech work. Impulse will sit there and try to fix it in earnest. They have to remind Impulse he’s supposed to having a break before filming resumes. The three quickly become friends and can be found hanging out together.

During one of the heatwaves, Impulse near passes out from heat exhaustion. There’s eleven concerned people crowding around him, and it’s one of the only times Bdubs has to seriously raise his voice to gain control of the situation. The others are all sat outside in the shade and given water. Impulse goes back to the hotel and is ambushed by a lot of very concerned friends later that day. They take good care of him and threaten to beat him up if he doesn’t take better care of himself.

During Saturday evenings is when they’ll all lounge around the hotel and hype each other up for the show stopper. They like discussing what their plans are and sharing their ideas. A lot of dumb things happen to help work off the nervous excitement. 

There’s also a lot of calming each other down when they’re stressed out and caring about each other. It’s the Found Family VibesTM.

Even though washing up is supposed to be a punishment, a group of them usually end up doing it together and singing loudly and terribly to the radio.

One of the contestants catches Wels singing as he tests his microphone and drags him outside to come and jam with the contestants. Ren joins in. Etho provides backing. It delays things a little but they agree it’s worth it.

Keralis and Beef at some point have some made up war between them that is completely stupid, entirely overdramatic, and gives all the contestants a lot to laugh about.

There is, absolutely, a prank war part way through the season. It also extends off-set. Nobody is safe.

I haven’t seen anyone doing this AU before, and I apologise if they have! I hope there’s enough unique ideas to set it apart. But yeah, this is the AU I use when I just want some Fluffy content. Thanks for reading!

[piracytheorist]

A ridiculously needed defense of Mia Winters

(and I say ridiculously because I don't particularly care for her as a character. But I care for Ethan, and I care that he went through so much shit to save her and never gave up or even thought to, so by extension Mia needs to make sense to me so I need to have a clear image of her in my mind to justify Ethan's ridiculously brave actions in re7, and his devotion to her in re8. But also because my experience watching the show Once Upon a Time and engaging with its fandom has taught me to not hate on characters when they're not fully fleshed out and their bad actions are not adequately explained, especially when said characters are women written by men. And considering that Ethan himself is not fully fleshed out in re7 either, it's no wonder Mia's character is suffering)

So. I'm not here to tell people they're wrong to hate or even just dislike or distrust Mia. That's not my point. But if you do continue to read after the title, you're checking in on your own accord. And my main gripe with people hating on Mia is that they seem to dislike her character when the game itself didn't give much of a good basis on her character in the first place. So yeah, being a woman myself and having seen how fandoms work, I do tend to get a little pissed when people (no matter their gender) are so ready to hate on female characters for no good reason.

Now, I'm not saying Mia is a saint, far from it. RE7 makes clear she holds a lot of the responsibility for what happened, and she even accepts that. But she's also been given redeeming qualities, if you're willing to look for them.

The first glimpse we get of Mia is of her sending a happy message to Ethan, then immediately after we see her admit her wrong and warn him to stay away from her. There's a reason we even get the second video, and that's called setting. The writers wanted Mia to be shown as protective over Ethan while also accepting responsibility from the very first moment - and it's something that repeats itself when we do find her. She apparently has no idea she asked Ethan to come, she self-harms in an effort to stop hurting him, and even through Eveline's control she manages to tell him to leave her.

(like idk why people take lightly the fact that she fucking banged her head on a wall, giving herself a concussion, all in an effort to protect Ethan from what she knew she had turned into but leave it to a fandom to underplay self-harm I guess)

But that's only from the beginning, and from the confused POV of Ethan and a first time player. In Mia's flashback, we see that she'd been given orders that should Eveline get out of control, she had to be eliminated. Now, Eveline had grown fond of Mia, and she was super powerful herself. Taking a powerful being on your side and using them to be on top? That's a super villain origin story if I ever heard one. But Mia doesn't even consider it, from the first moment that civilians are getting in danger, she's ready to eliminate Eveline.

And that's when the first holes start appearing. For what kinds of wars did Mia know that Eveline was made for? How long had she been working with The Connections? Was it before or after marrying Ethan? How did they approach her? How did they know she'd be okay with making a bioweapon to assist in wars? And as herself, how deep was she willing to go in terms of human experimentation?

That's all stuff we have no way of knowing, and frankly any answer, from one extreme to the other, can be assumed. For all we know The Connections approached her, and before she had even realized she was assisting them in creating Eveline. So in general I feel it's kinda unbased to jump on the Mia Hating Train so easily when there's so much missing from the whole story.

Though again, I’m not here to tell people what to like and what not to like. It’s just that I feel there’s a bit too much focus on how Mia is such a horrible person and the true villain of the story and like, it’s getting super tiring, entering fandoms and seeing people being so fucking pissed at some characters. Like, ok. You can’t like everything. But it feels like some people are trying to make that everyone else’s problem.

And the victim blaming is not helping, either. People say all of what happened in re8 is Mia’s fault because she didn’t tell Ethan the truth about what he is, and like. Are we fucking serious. Like I see people call Chris dumb for not explaining the story to Ethan from the beginning, and how it could’ve made things much more simpler if he had, but I don’t think I’ve seen anyone call him the villain of the story (if anything because without him being cryptic we wouldn’t have had the story in the first place). He had his reasons to be cryptic, and if you pause your hate train for a moment, you’ll realize Mia had her reasons as well. We don’t know how long she knew that Ethan was all mold - she wasn’t even conscious during the moment Jack killed Ethan in the first place to see how serious the injury was. For all we knew she only noticed while being pregnant with Rose, or after she was born - so we can’t really blame her for not speaking up. If anything, considering she did realize it and still she stayed with him and knew he and his feelings mattered (”We matter, Ethan! You matter!”) is a big thing. She also seemed to want to tell him, but like, how do you even begin such a discussion? Ethan also saw that she was troubled; you can’t convince me that they were like this, with Ethan knowing she was holding something from him, and Mia knowing and knowingly having a child with him who would definitely be infected by Mold, for three fucking years.

Like at some point you start going like “They can’t have shown us such a fucking toxic relationship and expected us to feel sad for Mia at the end.” But like, people do believe that yes they intended them to be so toxic and Mia to be such a horrible person and for us to just shrug at it, so of course they would blame everything on Mia and not like, idk, Miranda, who was actually the one actively harming the entire Winters family. Or that Rose getting kidnapped was because Mia had been working with The Connections, and that’s how Miranda found out about her, and I’m like, y’all can’t separate butterfly effect from actual blame, can you? Ethan and Mia decided to have a kid two whole years after the Baker incident - when they felt they were safe, on the clear from whatever could be chasing them. They were on witness protection, the newspaper Ethan looks at in the beginning says that Ethan and Mia’s whereabouts are unknown; they were understandably feeling safe to move on with their lives, until someone from The Connections found where Mia was, and through them Miranda was able to learn about Rose. That’s an entirely different concept from Mia being careless or carrying the entire blame for Rose getting kidnapped or Ethan being self-sacrificingly determined to save her. But of course, let’s hate on Mia and then seriously ship Ethan with the villains because they have redeeming qualities and Mia doesn’t ig

I don’t know. Maybe I’m a bit too jumpy of people hating on female characters. But on the other hand, it says a lot that I don’t really care much for Mia or her character, so it’s not like I feel defensive because my fave is receiving hate. If anything, Ethan is my fave, he gets much more uncalled-for hate and I just shrug that off because who gives a fuck about them haters right. But with Ethan... I feel that the hate he receives is mostly because he subverted expectations; he’s not your average trained badass who knows what he’s doing and remains calm through anxious situations, he’s the exact opposite, and people hate on him for not being the former like... you’re missing the entire point of Ethan purposefully being clueless, panicking, saying cringy-ass quips, and honestly, your fucking loss lmao. With Mia, it feels like people choose to see the worst in her when there aren’t too many things to see. And knowing stuff about the world of gaming, it’s fucking telling. In the world of fandom, that’s just fucking annoying. I hate stuff too. But after a certain point you learn to not make your biases everybody else’s problem. Or at least you should. What would I know, being here hoping fandoms could be calmer places.