#and like. that's why i am so forgetful and my mood can change very easily and a lot of my memories are very blurry

[linabirb]

me after today's therapy session: "okay so am i a system or is this Something That All People Have"

[spuirrelwiththeletterp]

cutely slides in the yap post about their Sans AU that was previously accidently posted and jumps out of a window 😊

I've posted some art of my kid, but haven't given their name(I did) or any other info. I will eventually make a proper info post on them, but for now...

this booger right here is Error Print Sans, or just Print Error (or Error Print)

an absolute feck ton of words under the cut that's me just throwing up my thoughts ⇓

they originally started out as a passing thought that was just Error!Sans but CMYK colors, which evolved into a whole different character who didn't even have anything CMYK going on and I forgot about them for around two or three years until I re-entered my Undertale/UTMV phase recently. seriously disliked the character and the direction I took them in so I decided to start from scratch, took the original CMYK concept, and Print Error was born

am still working out their lore. I have ideas for some events that led to their current state, though how they got into the Anti-Void or why their attire changed after becoming an error is still beyond me

I called them Print Error because inkjet printers use CMYK ink and they're an error (very creative ik) they also feel weird being called just Print but they don't know why

even though I made its design with the CMYK color model in mind, its more CMY than CMYK due to actually not having any black, the way its body works just makes it look like it has black↴

Print Error's being is composed of 3 overlapping color layers (cyan, magenta, yellow) that each depict how much of that magic they have. less saturated colors means less magic left, and running out of all three colors will leave Print Error in a mindless "no color" or "all white" state where they can't use any magic unless they absorb color through physical contact

the alignment of Print Error's layers reflect their mental state. more misaligned layers means more mentally unstable or intense Print Error's emotions. more aligned layers means Print Error is more "there" in their own chaotically fragmented way, but layers rarely ever align too closely...

Their body is not affected by lighting, which means they stick out like a sore thumb with their bright colors and vantablack bones (it's already hard enough to just make the effect, shading them would just be an absolute nightmare 😭)

Print Error's strings are much thicker than a typical error's and come from both its eyes and mouth. Print Error can additionally absorb CMY colors from objects/beings with its strings

Print Error's attacks (bones, gaster/printing error blaster blasts) come in cyan, magenta, and yellow, which all have their own properties, but Print Error can't control what color their attack will be half of the time

Print Error is cold to the touch but has thermoanesthesia, so it doesn't know its a walking ice cube. its confused why others react so weird when coming in physical contact with it

Print Error does not understand social cues and personal space. they're often in a chaotically playful mood, though not always

Print Error is morally grey and can't tell the difference between good and bad, everything is neutral to it... apart from mistakes

Print Error's thoughts are inconsistent, usually jumping from one topic to another, having multiple thoughts at once, or not having any thoughts at all. it usually "lives in the moment", often going with the flow

Print Error's fragmented mind kind of leaves them absent minded most of the time, getting easily distracted and forgetting things like it's nobody's business. though they can often hold their focus if they're intrigued by something

even with a horrible memory, Print Error can remember things at random, though often it's something that it was previously intrigued by, or just something completely random. either way its gonna forget not even 2 seconds later

Print Error deeply believes that any mistake, no matter how small, can be catastrophic, causing them to have a sort of perfectionist mindset. they try to avoid making any mistakes, and punish themself over any mistakes they do make (leaving out details)

if Print Error witnesses someone else make a mistake, there's a chance their mind might not register it, but more often than not, will get seriously exasperated at the person for making a mistake and might even crash out of frustration. not because of the mistake itself, but more so out of fear for the person, though Print Error doesn't recognize the feeling nor reason behind it

though they do heal quicker than usual, it's a double-edged sword as it subconsciously encourages Print Error's more self-destructive behavior

I originally had Print Error have excellent depth perception, until I thought of Print Error seeing everything in the same layered effect others see them in. definitely gonna explore that idea!

there are many more ideas I have for Print Error but I don't know how to "coherently" include them so those are gonna be revealed over time 😉

If anyone wants to ask anything about Print Error, feel free to ask! I would love to answer any questions about them and I got nothing but time!

been stressing over this post for like two weeks and I just set a deadline so I wouldn't tweak things till the heat death of the universe

was heavily inspired by @ossiethegreat's Static Hue/Error!Color post to make my own rant on my own kid, so there might be some similarities cuz I am oh so ✨️creative✨️. link to the post because I absolutely loved reading its ideas and I love Hue

I AM SO SORRY OZ IF YOU DID GET A NOTIFICATION FOR THE UNFINISHED VERSION OF THIS POST THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN I AM SO FRICKING SORRY 😭😭😭

I really tried to explain my thoughts and I feel like I failed in certain areas 😭 I struggle with explaining my ideas and especially the more in-depth ones, so some things might change if I find better ways to explain them

I definitely plan to share more of this gremlin, and especially if more than one person is interested in them!

also found some older drawings of Print Error I made previously but didn't share, so I'm sharing now because I don't think I would have shared these at any point in the future

also a lil lore one 👀 which I like but also don't like

[mvltisstuff]

hello!! i absolutely love, love love, your buck fics, cowboy like me was so good. i was wondering if i can request a fic? buck and reader are best friends too stubborn to realize their feelings and have to share a bed for some reason, buck for some reason knows this trope and prepares themself like “i can do this, they’re my best friend it won’t be weird” so morning comes and he wakes up but they’re not cuddling and he gets gets disappointed and that��s how he realizes his feelings and maybe a confession. thank you if you do this but no worry if you don’t get to it. take care ❤️

sweet nothing - e.b

summary: basically for the request above :)

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i was so so happy to see that someone requested something and i hope you enjoy it! 🩶🩶 i’ve never done a one bed trope before so hang in there. i’ll be editing this a little later as i am going out but i wanted to get this up for you!

edit: omg i lowkey read this wrong i’m so sorry i can def write it again if you’re not a fan of it

y/n and buck have known each other for years, working together at the station. they meshed so well together and they realized that their connection might be stronger than a normal one between co-workers.

they started hanging out more and more, going to bars and getting dinner. they’d go to parties together and they talked all the time. having to deal with the repercussions of being a first responder, they found comfort in each other. after a death or near a death, they’d go back to someone’s place, hoping to bring normality back to the day. the bad days and the good days, they were always there.

it’s hard for buck not to get attached to someone so easily after dealing with people leaving. he never received affection from his mother or father, and his sister leaving so soon changed his view on things. his ego might be big, but it’s not big enough to prevent him from clinging to someone who shows him an ounce of love.

they were scarily similar, and they knew it. that’s why they were friends. they could talk to each other and actually understand each other after not having anyone for years.

they both know they’re more than friends, and everyone at the firehouse teases them anyway. buck normally has no problem with admission, taking girls home and letting them forget him the next day. he cannot admit his feelings for y/n after all these years. whether it be encouragement from eddie or bobby, the fear of ruining the best relationship he’s ever had outweighs that.

after a crazy day off, driving around the city and doing anything they can imagine, they realize how late it is and start to drive home. bucks mood of the night goes from pure happiness to dread. he doesn’t want it to be over, because any time that is spent with her is more time that he feels like nothing could stop him.

“buck, where are we?” y/n asks in the passenger seat of his jeep.

“oh, we’re um… at the place i went a few weeks ago. i just-“

“don’t know how to get back?” she finished his sentence and he gives her a look.

“yes, i do actually! we just have to go down that freeway.” he tries fixing the situation, not wanting to leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere. “ok, i have no clue where we are, but it’s fine! we have google maps.” buck pulls out his phone and sits on the app for minutes, praying that the little loading sign goes away. some small part of him wants to turn on airplane mode and hope she doesn’t notice, so they can stay together for a little while longer. she looks over to the phone and sighs.

“just pull up to that gas station over there. i have to pee.” she says, and he starts driving over to the dark gas station with the 24-hour sign. after she runs in, she runs back out with a ton of snacks and drinks.

“i thought you were just using their bathroom?”

“what? it’s just a few snacks, what’s wrong with that?” she laughs and throws them back into the car as he’s waiting outside too, filling his tank.

“did you buy a map in there too?”

“very funny, buck. like you can read a damn map.”

“i could if we were stranded somewhere! and oh, take a look around.” he acknowledges the fact that they don’t know where they are, but can still make fun of each other and laugh.

“listen, let’s just drive around for a bit and see what we find.” y/n recommends. buck grumbles and gets back into his car, turning on the engine.

it mutters and doesn’t turn on, he tries again and realizes it’s not going anywhere. he keeps playing around with it before y/n interrupts him. “i think it’s broken, buck.”

“it’s a jeep, it’s fine!” he says, trying to defend his precious car.

“ok, well. i’m gonna go inside and ask where any hotels are.” y/n says, and buck runs his hand down his face.

“get a bag of doritos while you’re at it.”

after minutes of waiting, y/n comes out of the gas station and walks over to the car. “did you call a truck?”

“yeah, they’ll be here soon.”

“well, get your walking stick, partner because the nearest hotel is a mile away.” she says sarcastically, grabbing her stuff out of his car.

————————————————————————

“we’re sorry, ma’am but all our two guest rooms are full for tonight,” the hotel receptionist tells them.

“shit, ok. do you have any other available rooms?” buck peeps in and asks.

“we have a one person room on floor 3, it has a full bathroom and everything.” after the exhaustion of the night and having to walk around looking for this hotel, they basically will crash anywhere.

“we’ll take it.” they both say simultaneously.

they climb up the the room with their arms full of stuff they don’t even need. they swing open the door and make their way inside. “ladies first,” buck says, leaning against the door.

“thank you very much, sir.” y/n replies and places some of their goodies on the tv stand. “this is nice, i guess! we could fit in here if we really wanted to.”

“yeah, i can stay on the floor and you take the bed.” y/n laughs at his request and he gives her a confused expression.

“really, buck. we all know you’re picky about your sleeping situations. take the bed. i’m fine on the floor. ladies always take the bed.” she smirks at him.

“oh, well if you put it like that, i’ll take it,” he says, throwing himself on the bed. “you’re gonna sleep in jeans?”

“well, i didn’t bring an overnight bag. it’s fine, it’s just for one night.”

“i have en extra shirt in my car, just wear that. it’s big on me, so it’ll be like a dress!” he tells her. “a nightgown for the queen herself, if i must say.”

“you didn’t bring it in? you even brought your med kit?”

“you never know, y/n. what if you cut yourself open? you never. know.” he jokes.

“whatever,” she smiles and laughs. “i’m going to wash my face and i’m going to bed.” she walks into the bathroom and buck stays on the bed. he doesn’t want to leave her on the floor, but he doesn’t know if he could contain his thoughts if they slept together. that sounds really awful, but that might make him spit out words he doesn’t want her to know.

when she comes back out, buck is stripped of his shirt and left in his pants. her heart rate noticeably speeds up, and she doesn’t really know what to say. she’s seen him without a shirt, but spending the night together? she’s in for a hell of a night. her mouth is slightly open, and she closes it again, realizing he’s looking right at her. “like what you see?” he says, looking up from his phone. she shakes her head and turns around. she pulls on his massive shirt and now it’s his turn to have an internal freak out.

seeing his name on her back and his shirt on her body might send him into arrest. her soft hair falls down her back after she pulls out her bun and she runs her hands through it. buck looks around at her body, her shoulders peeking out through the top and the neckline down. he shakes his head and forces his eyes to look back down at his phone. she gets down on the floor, pulling the blanket over her and laying on the few that she placed under her. “g’night, buck. go to sleep.”

“n-night, y/n.”

————————————————————————

buck stays on the bed the whole night, being able to sleep peacefully in the quiet room. y/n on the other hand, feels like she’s gonna fall through the floor. she hates the floor, she would’ve taken the bed, but his comfort was more important to her.

she loves him, she really does, but both of their stubbornness and lack of acknowledgement of their feelings prevents her from making any moves. but she swears this hard, itchy rug might be the death of her.

buck feels the corner of the blanket get pulled up, and a light hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his slumber. “move over, i cant stay on this rug.”

even the deep sleep he was in couldn’t keep his mind from going places. he was so happy, probably too happy. “yeah-yeah, of course.” he says, moving his body. he was wide awake now, turning to face her. “you know, i’m really happy we got stuck here together.”

her faces reveals a bright smile and buck can still see through the darkness of the room. “me too.”

they both turn over and fall asleep, trying to quiet the thoughts in their head. the ones that have been begging to be released for months.

when they wake up in the morning, y/n feels so much better. the sun was shining lightly through the shades and she rubs her eyes. she looks over and buck, whos much closer than she thought.

she realizes their closeness, his arms wrapped around her and their legs tangled together. her head is right next to his, their foreheads practically touching.

she thought about moving from her spot, it physically, she couldn’t bring herself to. the warmth of bucks body brought a whole new feeling. she felt at peace, which sounds silly but she felt like she could take on anything as long as he was there. it was her opportunity to be with him, being as close as ever.

he woke up from his own sleep, eyes fluttering open and his breaths were deep and slow. he looked up at her, and smiled when he saw how close they were to each other. “hey,” he says, with a raspy voice morning voice and y/n feels grateful to even hear one word.

“hi,” she whispers back to him. “sleep well?”

“i slept great, i wonder why,” he looks around and then lands his eyes back on her. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“you know, i kinda thought i was dreaming when i woke up,” she speaks. “i’m glad i wasn’t.”

“i’m glad you weren’t dreaming too.” he pulls her in, wrapping his arm around her lower back. he leans in, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. they stay in this position for a while, taking the time to spend with each other after waiting the past few years in hiding.

“uh… we should probably, um, get up?” she smiles and is practically speechless. she tries to form the words but really doesn’t want to go anywhere.

“nah, let’s stay here.” he pulls her in and rolls over her, but keeping his weight off. they whisper sweet nothings at each other and she giggles at his soft kisses all over, finally relieved that they can be together without the fear of ruining something great.

[fanaticsnail]

ARGHHH CURSE MY BRAIN FOR FORGETTING SO MANY THINGS (aka even more addition to my answers for the ask game. the ask game is now my reasons for ranting. please be careful of the length of this rant)

How the hell did I forget about Uta my beloved and X Drake my sweetie cop boy. AND KING. AND REIJU. ARJFKFHFKSJ-

• What song makes you think of your favourite character?

For Uta, literally every song on the Film Red album (personally, New Genesis, Backlight, and The World's Continuation really scream Uta to me). The songs really show how Uta progressed in the movie and it's just so fun to hear the tune change from a pop song to rock-style and to rap and then to ballad (that broke my heart). I first knew of Ado this way and boy did she have a really good voice (her growls omg).

On the topic of Ado, there's a really good song (also her debut song) called Usseewa that I think fits Law in the context of him expressing his dissatisfaction and anger towards Doflamingo. The catchphrase of the song is literally a very rude way to say shut up (usseewa), so- yeah.

And riding the bandwagon of "songs I know and ring with a particular character", Luffy with stupid by John Michael Howell (yes, again, I am just dumping songs that have a nice ring to them rn). This song is just my personal headcannon of how Luffy's stupidity mirrors a choice he made (unknowingly?) to preserve the brightness he has and to prevent himself from turning cynical like most of the world. After all, how can you see the good in the world and its people if you're constantly afraid of everything being everything it isn't?

SPOILER ALERT FOR KING'S ORIGINS/BACKSTORY AND X DRAKE'S IDENTITY

Moving on, I just got one for King (my dearest), Just A Man from Epic: The Musical (I have seen the book and it scares me and I have not touched it again since that moment). I know this is a bit turning the lyrics on its head but I feel like it'd fit him in a situation where he sees the Seraphims and he was reminded of his situation. He was a child when he had to witness the extermination of his people. He begins to think about how he's now Kaido's right-hand man and the people he's slain. He doesn't want the Seraphims who look just like his people to witness such violence and get corrupted at such a young age. I feel like deep down, King still wants to go back to a place he called home even when said home might not even be there anymore, but he's too busy trying not to get exposed and sold out to the World Government. The overall melody and lyrics just *slams table* it's just KING-

Back to a lighter mood, bc of a cinematic I saw on Tumblr (and then on Youtube) of Business Man by Tom Cardy with X Drake... yeah. It just sticks so bad I can't even keep a straight face anymore XD (pls watch it. I cannot explain the comedy magnificence in words alone) (cue drake singing i'm a business man with a business plan and apoo and hawkins watching with a look of disbelief)

Link: https://youtu.be/sg9CVmJQZ9o

OKAY SPOILER OVER

• What song makes you think of your OC?

I got a collection of them, but some that really stand out to me is Nobody by OneRepublic for Ainsley since he's Samantha's support pillar (he was the first Anomaly (what I call most of my OCs in this universe) that Samantha (albeit unknowingly at the time) created just for that purpose) which is why he's essentially the other half of her heart. He has been, is, will, and would always be with her as an everlasting companion/counterpart. Where Samantha is the more serious, stressed natural leader type, Ainsley is the laidback chaos in flesh type.

And then there's lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid for Samantha. She's coping with her stress and borderline depression by becoming stoic and hardened (although still easily irritable sometimes (similar to Crocodile tbh)) and when I heard lovely my mind just went "yes that's her song, make her depresso espresso". Add the extra seasoning of something similar to savior complex and just being too responsible for things that she overworks herself (workaholic) because she got them standards.

There's also Royalty because DAYUM this fits her vibe so much. Like she isn't the grand flaunting bright kind of nobility but a "i rule over everything you know but you won't know about it until i tell you" royalty.

Last one for now (because I'm Indonesian and this is played real often in the radio rn), there's an Indonesian song called Gala bunga matahari by Sal Priadi that talks about accepting the passing of a loved one while living on happily as they hoped even though the singer still misses them. It really reminds me of Samantha just reminiscing on the people she they? loved who had already passed. The depresso espresso personality actually comes from Samantha being the first Anomaly created by the (mostly negative) subconcious of the entity right now dubbed as The Primordial One (yes all my Anomaly OCs are self-aware to some extent). The Primordial One of course has origins and that's where the remembering past friends part comes in. Tbh the OC universe is pretty much The Primordial One's subconcious that created a whole new universe and the lore goes deep here as well so I'll cut it right here (might pop up in your askbox with extra bits of lore tho).

• If your favourite character was real and appeared beside you, how would you feel about it? What would you do?

Honorable mentions because they're beloved (these exclude the intial shock reaction)

Uta: KARAOKES. BE FRIENDS WITH HER. SING ALONG. LISTEN TO HER MAJESTIC VOICE. I will teach her the music of this world and then go shopping. OH RIGHT JAMMING TO SONGS FOR HOURS JUST COOPED IN MY ROOM ASKSJKA- (as you can see i am not normal about her)

King (haven't i wrote this already? Anyway): 1. How did you fit into my house without breaking anything, 2. How the hell am I supposed to take you out with all these wings characteristics, 3. What kind of clothes would fit your tall ass

X Drake: so are you a cop - no i'm not - yes you are - of course not! - okay stop. I know you're a cop (shows him the video earlier clips of Wano, the Fandom, and all that) - ...okay then goddamnit - it's okay you're my lizard bbg - w h a t

Reiju: MMM SUGAR MOMMY. I'll save enough money so I can go to Japan and eat fugu (Japanese pufferfish) with her without big risks because have you seen how she saved Luffy from getting poisoned pre-WCI? Hell yeah. Aaand take her out for a shopping trip together and I'd really like to take her to a museum that focuses on biology and not just the appearances (like. museum/aquarium date. that's my mommy)

shiiiiiiiiittttt my rants might've gone out of control. Hugs and cookies for one of my favorite fanfic writers, bye- (i don't want to burden you pls don't feel pressured to answer this and hope i don't have anymore amnesiac sessions akrkrkj)

Now, you listen here. (Affectionately)

You can't just drop "Just a man" on me like that. Its so incredibly emotional, and I think of Gol D Roger every time. Just the:

"I look into your eyes, and think back to the son of mine... I'm just a man who's trying to go home... Deep down, I would trade the world to see my son and wife. I'm just a man."

Okay, now that I've said that. One Piece Red is gorgeous, and I love it so much. The music, the costume changes for the characters in that battle KOBY was just spectacular.

I love Samantha and Ainsley so much. I also adore the song 'Royalty', it's on almost every playlist. I HC that song with the monster trio. As a violinist, it sings to my soul. Samantha hitting it with the Billie Eilish just 🥺🥺🥺🥺. I adore her.

Also, X Drake and King 😭😭😭😭😭. The way you speak on them so passionately 🥹🥹🥹. I love it. I need to write for X Drake so bad. Also, agreed on Reiju. I can't wait to write for her in the next few weeks 🙌. Love her so much.

Thank you so much for your thoughts. I love them so much 🥹

[sasa-writes-fandom-things]

SCARY LOVE - Chapter One

Pairing: Matt Murdock x f!Reader

Warnings: mentions of hornyness, angst, open end

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: I finally continued the Neighbors storyline after I changed the plot a few times. I am super hyped to see what you guys think and what else is in store for those two. :3

Synopsis: After your little encounter with your upstairs neighbor, you bumped into him on some occasions, like normal neighbors stuff until one package changes everything.

Forgetting to check the mail, when you were expecting an important parcel was typical for you. The whole way downstairs you scolded yourself. Without an elevator going up and down 6 flights of stairs could be counted as work out. Gonna have that bar of chocolate when I get back, that’s for sure.

You opened your letterbox and a single card threatened to fall out.

“We have dropped your parcel off at your neighbor.” You blinked twice, slowly, as to give your brain time to understand what you’ve just had read. “Brilliant. But to which neighbor?” You groaned and shut your letterbox with a bit too much force.

“Was the letterbox mean to you?” A now familiar voice filled your ears and warmth spread across your cheeks. “Not the letterbox…” you smiled coyly - not that he could’ve seen that but still, you tried. He let the front door fall shut and made his way towards you. His cane scraped the worn tile floor in a sweeping motion. You offered your arm as guidance, but remembered quickly that he couldn’t see it. “Here, take my arm. The sound of your cane scratching the floor is like fingernails on a chalkboard for me.”

Matt gladly took your arm and let you lead him upstairs. “So…” You watched each step carefully, not to trip. “So…?” He smiled. “Not the letterbox?”

“Oh this.” You almost had forgotten about this. How easily a person could change your mood. But with this disarming smile who could stay mad. “I expected a package today but it was dropped off by a neighbor.”

“And this is bad, why?”

“Because the mailman failed to mention which one.” You answered frustrated.

“I see. Lucky for you, I happen to be this neighbor.” He stopped on your floor. “Mind to accompany me upstairs?”

Your mind went into very unholy territory when he said that. He means to collect my package. Not anything else. Good lord, I need to get laid soon.

Your heart rate shot up a few notches, the temperature of your skin changed and the anticipation of your hopeless thoughts tingled like electricity over your body. All those perceptions didn’t go by unnoticed, but Matt only observed and would never address this. It was just good to know for him.

Once at the right floor, you led Matt to his door, and once unlocked he went inside, expecting you to come after him. “Y/N, you can come in, I don’t mind.”

God how you loved the way your name sounded out of his mouth. Just imagine how it would sound when he moaned - NO, bad Y/N. God it must’ve been one of those weeks, with all your hormones wreaking havoc on your mind and body. Your (again) unholy thoughts lasted longer than you thought, because the next thing you knew was Matt appearing in the still open door with your package in one hand.

“You didn’t have to wait outside. I really don’t mind. Anyway, here is your package.” He handed you the brown parcel. “What? Oh thank you.” You took it from his outstretched hand, your fingers brushed his slightly. “And next time, I’ll come in, promise.” You smiled at him and turned on your heels. “See you around, Murdock.”

Next time, I’ll come in, promise??? What the hell was I thinking? He must think I want to get into his pants.

“But you wouldn’t mind that, now would you?” a fine voice laced with scorn huffed amused. “Salem, I don’t appreciate you reading my thoughts!”

“I wasn’t. You spoke aloud.”

Baffled, you frowned and set the package on your counter. “Living alone on your own for so long must promote such a habit.”

“Don’t sound so smug, Kater.”

Your feline friend stretched and let out a big yawn. “I’m not a male cat. You know that very well.” You rummaged around your drawers in search of a pair of scissors. “I know, as much as I know that you can’t take a joke.”

If Salem was human he would’ve huffed but as a black cat, all he could do was narrow his eyes and turn his back towards you.

“It’s the wrong color.” Salem added while he left the kitchen. “Thank you.” You yelled behind him sarcastically.

Seemed that your odd friend was right. You had ordered the wrong color, so you had to return the package. The sky looked grey and stormy when you left your house for the third time today. High up on the rooftop, a dark figure was haunching over the ceiling, following your every step.

The devil of Hell’s Kitchen was watching over you tonight. Matt was wondering where you were going so late. Was it a date? His head tilted to the left and he focused his senses only on you. You still wore the same clothes as when he met you in the hallway. So no date, he knew how you smelled and how you walked when you had a date. The smell of your perfume, that lingered in the hallways, the way you chose only your best clothes and not the standard ones you used for work. He could even sense the light make up you wore when you got ready for a night out. But tonight you weren’t going out, you were merely running an errand. The package in your bag rustled slightly but enough for Matt to pick up the sound.

“Wasn’t the right item then, huh?” He thought to himself as he hurried along the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen. He was about to release his concentration and let you go when he heard the faint click of a safety pin come off.

“Gimme all ya money!” You couldn’t believe your ears and the scene that was unfolding in front of you. Here you were, on some winter-y night in the Big Apple, staring in the barrel of a gun. “Oi, you deaf or what?” The thug brandished his gun vividly. Before you could utter a word or even grab your purse, the gun clattered to the ground and the robber stumbled a few steps backwards. A man dressed in all black stood in between you. Fists balled, forearms strained, a solid stand, broad shoulders that the black shirt couldn’t hide. His face was half covered with a black mask, only his lips were visible. You absorbed all this in the split second he turned to you to make sure you were okay.

Attention focused on the robber, the man in black kicked the gun further away, which earned him an angry “son of a bitch” from the other man. “You good with ya fists huh?” The thug raised his hands and clenched them into fists. "Let's see if ya really that good." A violent exchange of blows between the two men began and all you could do was stand there dumbfounded and watch them as the sky cracked open and the gates of heaven poured their tears over New York.

It must have been only a few minutes, but it quickly became clear that the thief didn’t stand a chance. He always went down, but always got up too. You had to give it to him, he was tough. Judging by the cracking noises and the sheer force the man in black let his fists rain over his body. But after what felt like hours, the fight was over. The thug was lying unconscious on the ground.

Still agitated from the fight, the man in black turned to you. “You should go home. It’s not safe at night.” You chuckle dryly. “It’s New York, it’s kinda never save.” His lips curled and formed a smirk. “True, kind of.” And when you just thought how handsome he was and that you definitely would want to see his whole face, another deafening crack ripped through the night. You winced and looked up at the sky, waiting for the thunder to come, but it never came. Your eyes drifted to the man in front of you and slowly you realized that the sound you heard was a gunshot and not lightning.

Time stopped and went twice as fast at the same time. You saw your savior falter to one knee, clenching his left side while blood was mixing with the water in the puddles of the street. Behind him you could see the thug, kneeling with an outstretched arm holding the fuming gun. “Not so good now, aye.” The man in black pulled himself up, shielding you with his body. “You’ve been shot.” You muttered in shock. “Had worse. Take cover.” He turned around only to see the gunman gone. Still clenching his side, he stumbled a few feet away from you. “You’ve been shot.” You mumbled again until adrenaline set in and your brain sprung into action. “We need to get you to a hospital or a vet clinic.” You hurried over to him, grabbing his right arm and putting it over your shoulder, supporting him.

“No time …” his words came in shallow breaths. Suddenly his knees gave out and you stumbled to the ground with him. Panic settled in and your eyes shimmered over his body in search of the wound. Without much thought you pressed your hands onto his wound which made him wince out in pain. “I know. I’m sorry… but I need to stop the bleeding.” You cooed apologetic. He let out a dry laugh. “Foggy warned me about this. Should’ve listened to him.” Blood splattered with each word. You pressed harder, frantic to save him like he saved you only minutes ago.

“Don’t die, please. Oh god, please don’t let him die!” You pleaded into the dark sky. With his last breath you send out a desperate prayer to any deity that would listen.

Please don’t let him die. Take me instead.

[theblogofdavyjones]

The meaning of life

Pairing: Davy Jones x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @loner56

Request: Hi, can I have a scene in which the reader is in a bad mood, doesn't want to see anyone and forgets where she is? (the reason is constant thinking about the meaning of life) Davy Jones sees that she is devoid of any emotions, and he worries about it, wants to know the reason. Thank you :)

***

The mood swings was a true mystery to you, you couldn’t come with anything other than of yourself constantly thinking of the meaning of life and where you were supposed to go and settle.

It had been on your mind constantly that you had even wrote poems about it, and the helped only slightly. One of the lines go a little something like this:

On the way

Tryna get where I'd like to stay

I'm always feeling steered away

By someone trying to tell me What to say and do, I don't want it

I gotta go find my own way

I gotta go make my own mistakes

The thought of life itself could make one go mad, depending on how often it’s in mind. Someone such of yourself, this thought played your mind all of the time. The only truths you could count on was that life is precious and you only live once, that much in truth you knew and could easily accept it.

That was it, you had hoped for the longest time that someone out there in the world would someday come forward to you with the right answer and were unsure if you would ever truly know. Another truth you had dug out to believe was that of life is never easy and never will be for anyone. It didn’t matter how much it’s portrayed by the people on the streets. Thinking of life was the very thought that poked your mind in the night, causing you to lose the sleep needed in order to carry out tasks the following day. Because of the lack of sleep you were getting, it left you with bags under your eyes and you looked as though you had been working yourself sick and took ill. Everyone had took notice but were timid to approach you of this due to the fact you were snapping at everyone who tries to take care of you, even those who care about you.

The first to approach you was Maccus, the captain’s first mate and you had snapped at him to leave you alone. Being it as it may, Maccus had quietly reported this incident to Davy Jones and Davy had been keeping a sharp eye on you ever since. Of course, Davy Jones had no plans to confront you about this, to see what was wrong, but there was a change of plans when he sees you snap at Bootstrap Bill just two days later, and that’s when he decided enough was enough. Davy goes to approach you and when he gets over to you, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, you were still snapping at Bootstrap Bill and had said some unkind things to him. As you were snapping at Bootstrap Bill to leave you alone, this only concerned Jones more.

“I just want to forget everyone and to forget where I am, Bootstrap! Why can’t you all leave me alone?!”

After saying that, Davy begins to wonder if something had happened or if one of the crew mates had something you weren’t reporting back to him like you should. Now was the time he was going to get to the bottom of it, whether you wanted him to or not.

“(Y/n), what’s wrong?” Davy asks concerningly.,

“Nothing… I just need some time for myself is all.” You say with a wavering like voice.

Davy Jones obviously doesn’t believe your response, so therefore, he wasn’t in any way pleased at all. He asks the question a bit more forcefully this time, but not before he barks orders for everyone to leave you both be unless they want a horrific fate with the kraken. You couldn’t lie, watching everyone around you scrambling away regarding the orders of the captain, was quite amusing.

Not only was it amusing for you to watch, but it had also helped a small smile spread your pink rose lips, a smile that no one had seen in days, one of the things they missed about you. But the smile quickly vanishes the second Davy whips around towards you in a blink of an eye. You’d be lying if you were to say it didn’t cause fright because it certainly did.

“You want to tell me what’s really going on?”

“I honestly don’t know, I haven’t known for the last few days myself.”

Part of that was out of complete honesty while the other part wasn’t, it was far from the truth. If anyone knew Davy Jones in the way you did, you would know how easy it would be for him to sniff out lie just as quickly as if he were to pull the rug out from under your feet. Davy partially knew the answer was truthful at some degree, but he keeps pressing forward for more nonetheless.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

You were the only crew mate onboard the Dutchman, and it was unbeknownst to you. With you not having that knowledge, you were quite surprised but you’ve become more honest with your captain at this point, now that everyone was gone. It took after a brief moment’s of hesitation before you spill the beans on what’s been going on in your mind.

“Honestly… no. No I’m not okay.” You finally admit, looking away.

“What is it than?”

Davy Jones was truly sincere at this point so you proceed to share your thoughts with, and again with everyone gone, it made it easier for you to be more open. In other words, you felt comfortable sharing your thoughts with Davy. Davy listens intently as you go on to explain what had you question the meaning of life.

For moment, Davy was baffled and didn’t know what to say or know what he could do to help you. That was until he said something he often said when recruiting new members on the Dutchman. Davy wanted to explain it in the best way possible to help you properly understand, in the best way possible.

“Sometimes I feel as though I don’t have a purpose in life. I need some kind of sign to show that in fact I do have a purpose for walking the earth and what my life should be about, where I should be and settle.”

As much as you trusted Davy enough to tell him this, it didn’t help make it any easier as your voice shook, wavered while holding back tears. You than jump slight at the feel of Davy’s more human hand reached out and placed on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. Than out of the blue, you started reciting yet another verse of your poem, Davy could hear it but he couldn’t quote understand it so you repeat the line for him.

Sorry man for feeling

Feeling the way I do

Davy couldn’t bear it any longer, so he took hold of your hand before starting to make the way to the top deck, a place where you were viewed among the whole crew if not the whole world. It wasn’t until hearing those lines did Davy realized that you were devoided of any emotions there ever was in the world. Davy didn’t want you feeling this way during your time on the Dutchman and figured this was the best way to show that you indeed had a purpose there just as you would anywhere else in the world you chose to go.

No one had done anything so kind for you, just to show that they care, and this had tears beginning to well in your eyes. They were the kind of tears that you were able to hold back before one is let to slip down your cheek. You didn’t show it as Davy made a wholehearted, beautiful speech about you, about how lucky the crew was to have you and had better treat you right. The speech was made in front of the whole Dutchman residence and as the speech was being given, Davy’s human like hand never left your as he unexpectedly threw them both in the air as of to say you have united the ground in which you stood on. When it was just the two of you once more, Davy pulled you aside and whispered sweet beautiful words in your ear before letting you go. Despite Davy’s cruelty and dead heart, you now know that he looked at you differently than most.

Which was a nice feeling.

“(Y/n), I don’t want you to feel that way ever again. Understood?”

You nod.

During that time, you hug Davy of course and walk away with just only more a peaceful set of mind, but with less worry, along with a final line of your poem.

By the way, you I know your path has been tried and so

It may seem like the way to go

Me, I'd rather be found

Trying something new

And the bottom line

In all of this seems to say

There's no right and no wrong way

Sorry if I don't feel like

Living the way you do

Saying this in a way for it was only you who could hear it.

***

@theblogofdavyjones

Requests: open

A/N: Lyrics are from The Offspring’s “Meaning of Life”

Tags: @royisrandom @always-on-hiatus @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence @mypookiebeardavyjones @marsswann @friendlynova @personlovinganime @marsswann @imalittleoutthere

[vancilocs]

odd numbers for kenzo and kazim?

weird numbers

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

A lot of stuff but maybe how he left his husband and the Citadel. Embarrassing

Masyaf times, stuff he's done when he was younger and very edgy

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

He's very aware of his flaws, mainly his memory and personality issues, he knows he can be kinda easily manipulated with things he likes but they haven't killed him yet so why bother

He considers a lack of eye his biggest flaw, he compensates by protecting his left side more

How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

He would bend the rules but not risk outright breaking it. Or at least overtly

Very far, will abuse his leadership role/being related to a high-ranking officer

What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

He became sadder and less of an asshole

He's lost plenty of edge in 10 years but he's honestly shockingly similar to what he was before

Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

I don't think I have anything for Kenzo

(damn the guilt, my past is dead) / and i wait for the night / shadows protect my angel in white / time to eject these vain parasites / cast out reject the plague in all your hearts ALSO back in black / i hit the sack / i've been too long, i'm glad to be back / yes, i'm let loose from the noose / that's kept me hanging about

What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Fists, knife, pistol for real emergencies, experienced with all of them

Has a sword he had his best friend sweet cheese rotten soldier steal back for him, also wields a thin little knife like the assassin wristblade, but he just doesn't have it on his wrist he holds it normally

If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

They're both large intimidating men I don't care for spending time with those. At least they wouldn't try to talk to me either

Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

Nope, I have like two and a half faceclaims in total of all of them

What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

I dropped a building on him and broke his leg and spine, yes I dropped a building on him and broke his head but at least he didn't feel the pain from that. Unlike the leg and back

I killed his daughter and his captain/other half

How does your OC behave when enraged?

Weapons come out, either knife or a nearby bottle he breaks to make it a weapon, snarling, yelling

Cold, knives out someone will die

Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

Addiction, depression, PTSD that is kinda comorbid with anxiety, also deals with chronic pain on the daily. Has prescription painkillers but self-medicates with alcohol. Takes uppers like cocaine to pull himself out of depression slumps

He has PTSD and dealt with deep depression after the whole thing of getting maimed and almost killed, easily slips into those moods. Handles it by taking walks, spending time with friends and family and talking through it with the wife

What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

Doesn't know what to do when scared, goes into fight mode immediately. Gets completely discombobulated if it turns into a panic attack which only makes it worse. Has a hard time expressing love of any kind.

Grief easily turns into anger, also has a hard time expressing sadness without it coming out as him being mad

What is your favorite thing about your OC?

He's a lovable sad bastard archetype, I am predictable. Also his weird fucked up but so incredibly loving relationship but not relationship with Ipes

He's so olldddd but also he's just a good guy?? He loves his parents and brother and his best friend and his wife and kids most of all and is a well-rounded little dude

[linawritestwst]

hello, lina! congrats on 1k, i'd like a matchup if there are still some slots open? ^_^ i use she/her pronouns, my MBTI is INFJ, and my zodiac sign is Libra!

personality: i've been told i'm a nurturing and perceptive person who can notice the emotions of and encourage the people around me. i have good social skills and can lead when needed but i prefer to be a follower since i'm actually little reserved myself. i also prefer to show my candid self to a select few who i really trust. i laugh at silly things really easily but i usually stifle my laughter. i am also a bit physically affectionate!

interests: poetry/literature, history, intellectual and philosophical topics, documentaries, nature and anything related to tea and herbs.

hobbies: reading books, writing poems, stargazing, taking walks during nighttime.

what i'm looking for a partner: someone who can indulge me on my interests (they don't have to necessarily share them. if they're willing to indulge me even if they don't know what it's about, that is more than enough!), who can tell me to step back when i get too distracted taking care of others, who wouldn't mind that i can be a bit childish and silly at heart, someone who can be honest with me and keep me grounded.

what i'm not looking for in a partner: someone who is brutally inconsiderate, who is impulsive and follows their emotions too much (i value emotions myself but not to the point of carelessness/recklessness without logic), who is self-absorbed, or anyone who is dishonest and don't put the least bit of efforts.

i don't have a preference for specific years or dorms! i really, really want to know who i might be compatible with in your eyes and also, don't forget to take a break when you need it! thank you so much and congrats, lina. your works are always the best <3

THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU'RE TOO SWEET.. i'm so sorry for being so late, but i hope you like this matchup anyway!

the character that i think would be a good partner for you is..

riddle rosehearts!

i'll explain why i chose him:

i think your dynamic would be so cute! riddle could definitely use a s/o who's good at noticing other people's emotions and how their mood changes, haha. also i think that him being more of a leader because, you know, he's literally a dorm leader and he's based on queen of hearts, and you being more of a follower is a very interesting and fun concept! it's like he can be the one who's good at leading people and you can be there to follow him, but also gently guide him and give him advice in case he does something wrong.

it's hard for riddle to admit it, but he actually would love to hear you laugh more often. you can really notice him showing favoritism when he hears ace or cater laughing at something dumb and tells them to stop, but then he sees you trying really hard not to laugh at the same joke and for some reason.. he doesn't say anything and pretends not to see it. also he's not used to physical affection and he has no idea what to do when he receives it, but.. to be honest, he actually kinda likes it. please pretend you didn't hear that from him.

riddle may be a bit very impulsive sometimes, considering his temper, but he started to work on that after his overblot and also he just feels more calm whenever you're around. and even though it can be very hard for him to control his emotions, he still tries his best and trust him, he would never hurt you. he wants to help you as much as you help him, so if he notices you spending too much time taking care of others while forgetting about your own needs, he will remind you that you're just as important as those other people, so you should remember to take care of yourself too. also, you two share quite a lot of interests, so i'm sure you two would have lots of fun together!

[anoyedartist]

Idk why but I feel compelled to share my experiences with being an afab person who has adhd. This is a vent so please don't feel pressured to read if you don't want to read that kind of stuff:

When I was very young, my parents realised that something wasn't right, so they got me assessed. The therapist said that she suspected ADHD but wouldn't diagnose me because I was not hyperactive or loud. I grew up feeling out of place and I fell behind in school.

My parents and I frequently got into arguments over work and they just assumed I was being difficult. These arguments messed with all of our mental health and to this day I feel like it was my fault. I got bullied in school; I was their favourite target because I didn't fight back. I didn't know what to say and I was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

My parents treated me like I was neurotypical all the way until I got diagnosed at 16. They ignored my struggles and called me lazy. This has lead to me feeling extreme anxiety and guilt whenever I am not doing anything. I frequently take on too much, get overwhelmed and burned out and then be unable to motivate myself to do anything while beating myself up about it.

When I was diagnosed, I educated myself about the condition the best I could but all of the information out there was for young boys (or for parents of young boys). That didn't really matter though because whenever I tried to tell my parents about my experiences, they would always say things like "I'm not sure you're looking at this in the right way" or "well that's not what everyone else is saying".

I got put on medication and I pulled through my GCSEs myself to get good grades. I got extra time on my exams, which even though I didn't really use it, it felt like cheating. I barely used any resources, still don't really know why. Maybe I still haven't come to terms with this condition. I hate when people say that I should own it or accept it. If I had one wish, I would use it to be neurotypical.

I still don't share my experiences much or ask for accomodations. I have barely any friends because of my social fears. I lie, almost pathologicaly, to make people like me and to relate to people. I can't even make it through a conversation without second guessing myself. I distance myself before I can have proper friendships because I think 'they just pity me, they don't really want to hang out with me'. I don't do work and then I lie to my teachers and parents faces about doing it. I make up fake assignments to be doing so that my parents aren't angry with me for doing nothing even though they tell me I need to take breaks (they don't mean it). I pick my skin, especially my face, and leave scars. I constantly hate myself for every little slip up, every mistake. I can't stick to things no matter how hard I try, I can make it maybe a week and then I forget and never do it again. I feel like a failure everytime this happens. I get so wrapped up in stupid stuff that I forget to eat or drink and then have headaches, feel sick and feel dizzy when I stand. My mood changes quickly and I am easily annoyed. And I hate it.

The constant dismissing of my needs and experiences by the people around me and by the media and other places of information means that I have a hard time voicing any need or asking for help. I feel like a burden on others because of my experiences. This is why we need to research more and provide more help and resources that are written by ADHD people for ADHD people. We don't detect it in young girls until it destroys their self worth and sometimes even their lives. Adhd would be easier to live with if people understood it more. If I had been diagnosed way back then, I would probably be an entirely different person now.

Sorry about this, I just had to say it somewhere. Also please don't worry about me, I am working on myself and making progress.

Okay a lot more ppl here have or have suspected ADHD on here than I thought.

And ADHD is hella misrepresented in media and just in the general public conciseness. So here' s some ADHD MEMES if ur struggling and need to hear your not alone, from someone who also has it ❤️❤️❤️

Love you guys. You are very strong.

[thecloakmaster]

This account lost everything

It has lost everything, but it's still there. Somehow someone decided to log in and delete so many posts but leave some and it doesn't make sense. I have no idea why I'm in such a bad mood tonight, there doesn't seem to be anything that triggered it which I can recall. It is incredibly terrible in my headspace tonight. I wanted to see how much change there has been in me, after so many years of having this account, I wanted to look back on the posts some day and reminisce. But now it isn't that plausible apart from the diary entries and the poems. You know, you come back to someone, something, after so long and you've changed so much, so much has changed around you that it perplexes you if it was the same person who wrote this. Personally it isn't that intense of a feeling for me, but it does make me remember the state of me when I wrote it. With time, I'll forget everything and on normal days it won't matter to me that much. But on nights like these, it might hurt a little, that some part of you has gone missing.

On another note, why am I so displeased, so annoyed at him. It's like he's someone so different in my eyes, someone I have never known, something I'm so oblivious to that he looks like a new person. Times are weird, maybe there's someone I like but that's something that I feel oh so often. Every tiny bit of attention I get from a woman looks like affection to me. The number of times this has happened is way too much but I'm starting to realize that it isn't what I truly feel. While I do enjoy the feeling of thinking someone likes me, I know, even if they do, I'm not worth their time. I'm someone who leaves, I get tired of things easily. Liking someone for so long, unconditionally, even after fights and disasters, is something I'm not capable of. I'm really petty, selfish and oh so flawed. I don't want someone else dealing with that, I might not be incapable of being loved but I sure am not deserving of it. And thinking about that, the last person I really liked was Hemanya. I don't think I'm ever going to feel like that again. I want to think that I did in fact like her, a lot. Whoever she has become, whatever she was, I think I was ready to accept that. But it was young love, I'm glad it ended that way. It wasn't going to go any other way.

So I'm part of the writing league for a club, and we had a writing event which I hosted along with someone else. And people write so terribly that it puzzles me if they know the same language as me. But the person who won the entire event, she wrote a piece. It was beautiful, won't deny that but it didn't sit right with me. It was about a domestically abused girl, what she thinks and what she feels, written along with children's rhymes. Very creative in fact, but I think we have enough depressed writers, we need someone happier, something fresh that isn't so blue. It's easy to write something depressing, it's a universally common emotion, but it's so so so difficult to write something cheerful that resonates with everyone. Maybe happiness isn't so cheap, and sadness is the candy in department stores. I wish I could write happier things but who knows, maybe I will later on.

But other than that, here's a poem I wrote for someone.

Unsent draft

Why do you seem so distant Something I can't touch Something so abundant But something I don't know so much So oblivious to you I want more than a look A few words won't do I need you as a book Let this not be a letter A letter can unfold A letter you can answer I want this to be a prose untold.

[innocencelives]

some sort of diary entry

extreme, extreme TW. need someplace, anywhere to talk to my self abt horrific CPTSD occurrences.

a return of perversion,

stockholm relapse of sorts

i am a child born for depravity

perhaps there is both: tenderness/love/softness/care/compassion/joy/innocence, AND depravity in my soul

i feel if you took a journey into the center of my soul underneath every layer in the very core you will find the incestous abuse i experienced.

why is the depravity tempting? luring, hypnotic, comforting even. the genuine comfort i feel when i fantasize about being beat with a concrete brick. torture, why is that alluring? not in a fun bdsm way, not in a way that has anything to do with me, in a disturbed perverted way that speaks directly from my abuse.

this is so regressed…this is stockholm symptoms. crying, anger, these are good symptoms. processing symptoms, they are productive, positive, they are letting go of the trauma, feeling what i need to feel, releasing their burden. stockholm symptoms are not that. they are an indication of severity, and a regression.

how can i cut this out of me, how can i run away from it, how can i surgically remove this depravity from my veins.

i engage in transgression… body horror, art to release it.

i dont want it to consume me. but i also do. would i feel whole? my psychotic fantasies perhaps feel more comforting than usual. im not in danger, but i crave them more than ever.

its attacked me out of nowhere…4 days of no depression, not that this is anything close to depression. did i choose to dive further into this? sure, after being provoked by a dark trigger. a shameful, terrifying happening indicative of stockholm symptoms, this caused me to dive deeper.

i havent experienced an arousal towards my abuse in perhaps 8 years. it comes up, everytime i masturbate honestly. but i easily throw it away, and continue on. not this time… i entertained it. perversely. i allowed myself to enjoy the proclivity. disgusting, vomit inducing, shameful, so so shameful. but alas…an established medical symptom.

perhaps this isnt such a unique event. in the last month/2 months ive seen a massive return of a monolith of distressing symptoms. mostly not CPTSD related: extreme, extreme, torturous mood fluctuations. first months like this since..2021 perhaps? a summer. i need meds changed, urgently. a very bad time to experience a frustrating falling out with a psychiatric agency. their treatment over years has been abysmal, but to happen now is quite disastrous. long waiting lists have prolonged this torturous, fluctuating episode.

so why has the torturous episode of mood disorder turned to trauma? depression, intense suicidality, distressing paranoia, wild unpredictable emotional whiplash. why has that given way for the trauma to resurface? honestly…its been poking its head above ground for more than the last months. im scared that it has left the ground entirely.

the stockholm symptoms, these i havent experienced in almost a decade. what could happen because of them… im scared. i dont want to subject myself to retraumatization. thats what this led to before. a horrific furtherance of trauma, quite literally adding disturbing experiences like notches on a belt. i dont think thats where this will lead. to be honest i hope it just leads to pain, thats more innocuous. i really dont need more psychological anguish though, im already experiencing catastrophic levels of that.

it is still tempting unfortunately. to engage with this depravity. where does sexualizing your own incestous abuse lead? nowhere good thats for sure.

i need to put this to bed…i need to put myself to bed first jeez (7am in a moment) ill probably forget this in the “morning”, feel like it didnt happen, such is mood fluctuations. but a return of stockholm syndrome feelings, this needs to be addressed somehow, someway.

what a broken life i live…maybe not broken, maybe just eventful 😵‍💫

zzzzzz💤💤😴

[adoracora-elizabeth]

When life interrupts, Chapter 15

Robert opened the door for Cora, who stepped inside. Robert’s heart melted seeing Cora with their little boy in his carrier on her chest. "Welcome home." He said bending towards Cora to kiss her, but she turned her face, so he kissed her cheek.

He was not sure what to do next, he closed the door and lingered in the hallway, while he saw Cora walk towards the living room.

"Are you coming in?" Cora asked, she was not sure how to behave. She wanted Robert next to her, but at the same time she felt uncomfortable. It was a little bit weird having him back around her after all these months. She was also angry at him, he had just left, thinking she was that type of woman who just went from one guy to another. Even though he knew she had been single all her live before she met him.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Robert asked, watching while Cora put Isidor down.

"A cup of tea would be wonderful." She forced herself to smile. Why was she feeling like this. Just after the birth she had kissed him and felt so much love and now...... She did not know what to feel. She was happy he was back, but how was this going to work out? She sat down staring at the crib Isidor was lying in, when she felt a hand on her back.

"Here you go. Do you want me to leave?" Robert handed her a cup.

Cora looked up in Robert's face and she felt instant guilt. He was so caring; it was not fair to push him out. Isidor was his son too. She sighed. "I would want that."

"Oh, alright." Robert said.

"But I also do not want that." Cora continued. "Robert, I do not know where we are standing at the moment. I only know we have a son and that we have to work things out for him."

Robert sat down next to her, looking at his shoes. "I behaved badly, thinking you were with another man. I know I was not being fair, but I could not help feeling that way. I have thought about contacting you while I was in Brussels, I knew were you work so I could have easily contacted you, but I never did."

"I am not sure, if you would have found me, I do not work at that school anymore." Cora said, sipping her tea.

"You do not?" Robert raised his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"I quit my job at that local school, I remember you telling me I could do so much more with my studies."

"Do not tell me you are a professor now at "Royal College of Art'?" Robert got excited; she had pursued her dream job.

"I am indeed not telling you that." She saw Robert's face drop. Why was he so adorable? She thought. "I am a professor at 'Regent's University,’ and I work at the 'National Gallery.'

"You are kidding?" Robert embraced Cora. "I am so proud you made the move." He said kissing her cheek. He quickly leaned back to his own side, not sure if Cora was upset by his reaction.

Cora took Robert's hands in hers. "You are the reason I had the nerves to take the leap and it is the best decision I made over the last year. Thank you." Softly her thumb stroke over his hand. She looked into his eyes; they were intense blue today. She had noticed it before, that it seemed that they slightly changed colour, according to his mood. Yes, she was angry, but she herself did not do a very good job in trying to reach him either. She leaned towards Robert and kissed him. It felt heavenly, she deeply missed being with him. The way her heartbeat calmed down when she was with him. They both had the wrong impression, but now they were here sitting in her living room, with a sleeping baby.

Robert took her dace in his hands. "Stop thinking." He kissed her again. "Let's forget the world for a moment." he whispered.

Cora leaned into his shoulder, pressing her nose in the crook of his neck. She kissed his skin and noticed he got goosebumps. She moved her hand over his chest, trying to open the buttons.

"Your hands are so much softer than...." He stopped his sentence. He should not say this, why was he comparing Cora to that one evening with Caitlin.

Cora stopped her movements, what did he say? "Sorry?" She tried.

"Never mind." Robert moved his hands over her shoulders down over her back, but he noticed Cora did not react.

"What did you say?" Cora now leaned back. "My hands are softer than? Than who?"

"I, I slept with someone. I went out and got very drunk and well, I ended up in bed with her."

Cora brushed his hands off her back. "And here you are thinking I was with somebody else, and all this time you were the one?'

"Cora! No, it was just one night. And all I could do was think of you." Robert felt incredibly stupid, he made that comment. Why at this moment. If he had felt it was necessary to tell her about Caitlin, than this was the worst moment to do so.

"But you blame me for drinking coffee with another man, and you went to bed with another woman! How can you think that is all right. And no, it is not a compliment you were thinking of me, while you were having sex with another woman. It is not a compliment!" Cora noticed she raised her voice. She glanced at the crib where Isidor was sleeping, but his eyes were still closed.

"Please, it did not mean anything. We were not together, and I got drunk. Cora, please."

"Can you leave." Cora turned away from him. She felt her whole-body trembling. She knew she was unreasonable mad, but she could not help it. Why was he not allowed to be with somebody else, they were not together. He did not know she was pregnant, because she did not enough to tell him.

Robert put his hands on Cora's shoulders and turned her towards him. "Cora, please, let’s not fight." He saw a tear role over her cheek. Gently he wiped it away with his thumb. "Cora, we both have not tried very hard to find each other and I do not know why we did not. We went on with our lives, all though you were not able to do that fully because of our Isidor there. Let us not waist any more time with silly arguments. I slept with another woman, while you staid faithful to me, even though you did not have to. Can we please, just start over. I love you and want to be with you."

Cora's eyes grew. What did he just say? Did he say he loved her? Tears started streaming down her face now, she could not stop it and her whole body shook with sobs. She felt Robert's arms around her, and she willingly leaned into him, crying on his shoulder. "I am sorry, I do not know why this made me angry."

"Hormones, darling. You just gave birth; your hormones are wild." Robert said softly while rubbing her back.

Cora wrapped her arms around Robert and pulled him even closer. "Thank you for understanding. Oh, and Robert." She said while pulling herself back a little. "I love you with everything I am." She than kissed him with full passion, until Isidor's cries made them stop.

Robert got up and took him out of his crib. "What is wrong my little one?"

"I think he his hungry. I should try and feed him. And we also should straighten ourselves, Janet will be here soon."

Robert laid Isidor in Cora's arms and kissed her forehead. "This is the best thing I ever have seen in my life. You look radiant."

Cora smiled up, while opening her blouse to give Isidor her breasts. This was everything she ever wanted. A man who loved her and he also gave her a child.

[occultic-luna]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS IV

Hey y’all welcome to my 4th observations post : )

DO NOT STEAL OR PLAGIARISE. GIVE CREDITS

These are simply my observations and they don’t have to resonate with everyone.

Anyhoo here we gooo : )

✨🌙 I’ve seen Leo moon women show people their emotions through styling their hair. As y’all should. Show them how it’s done 😌

✨🌙 Taurus Mars can be extremely stubborn when they firmly believe in something. It’s sometimes really frustrating trying to get them to think otherwise. Or make them see from another perspective.

✨🌙 Mutable Mercury I’ve noticed adapt into new ideas very quick. Not a surprise tbh.

✨🌙 I know so many people say water placements can be prone to drug addiction but have y’all ever seen water placements addicted to maladaptive daydreaming? It gets worse than drug addiction.

✨🌙 A lot of the times from what I’ve seen Virgo placements and hygiene is really true even if they don’t care much for it, they are usually surrounded by someone significant that makes them care about it.

✨🌙 I’ve seen people with prominent planets in the 18th degree actually go through a lot of suffering in their lives.

✨🌙 Libra sign/degree midheaven can really fantasise about working in the arts or being seen as creative and boujee.

✨🌙 Cancer placements can show emotions but once they mature they can be great at hiding their emotions. If they want to you can never truly know what’s exactly going on in their lives.

✨🌙 Aquarius moon can actually have very high standards for themselves and when they don’t meet it, they can really get depressed.

✨🌙 Taurus moons, their moods can change depending on the music they listen too. One minute they’re dancing the next crying. I know that happens to everyone but I’ve seen it take a lot of effect on Taurus moons in specific.

✨🌙 Black moon Lilith in gemini can be into open relationships.

✨🌙 I’ve seen so many Capricorn placements that can actually “play the part” to attract potential suitors. Seen it happen way too many times.

✨🌙 Venus in Capricorn can’t deal with immature or overly emotional partners for too long even if it’s an arranged marriage there’s a time when they get fed up of the constant emotional outbursts. That’s why a lot of them look for emotionally stable partners in the first place.

✨🌙 This Pluto sextile Neptune cycle really bought a revolution in spirituality and bought hidden knowledge out for the world to see. Especially when Neptune hit Aquarius.

✨🌙 Moon in Capricorn have a lot of “links.” Like for example if they’re a student I’ve noticed that these people know someone at least from every course lmao. Somehow these people sometimes really manage to get work cut out for them. Can y’all get my work cut out for me too lol?

✨🌙 Aries placements can be fierce and whatnot but have y’all seen these people in love? Damn they can be cornier than a water sign. It’s true and cute lol.

✨🌙 Also Aries placements especially Venus have the ability to bounce back quick from a heartbreak or they like to act like it doesn’t bother them. It doesn’t have to be in love just any type of heartbreak.

✨🌙 Libra sun y’all are so stylish man teach me your ways. Even when you don’t put much effort you manage to pull it off.

✨🌙 Truth be told, once cardinal signs put their mind to something, it’s really game over for others.

✨🌙 Mars conjunct Jupiter, these people usually have a lot of energy when they’re young. These are the types of people you’d see doing multiple sports on sports day.

✨🌙 Moon in 1st house can be great actors/actresses. They’re able to truly immerse themselves in the role and their expressions can be really on point.

✨🌙 Venus in Pisces/ Pisces degree/12th house love with their whole heart. Usually people, lovers or friends don’t forget these types of people easily. Their love is pure and unconditional.

✨🌙 I am pretty much convinced that Gemini placements can be extremely open minded and they generally accept everyone, or at least like to show they do.

✨🌙 Libras can be really social people I honestly believe that’s where the people pleasing thing comes from tbh.

✨🌙 Aries moon, your passion when it comes to things is truly inspiring.

✨🌙 Scorpio Venus would give up everything when they’re in love. Not all but I’ve seen it play out a lot with this aspect.

✨🌙 8th house placements or scorpio placements can be very prone to sleep paralysis. Stay protected y’all.

✨🌙 Also 8th house placements and scorpio placements tend to get strong reactions out of people a lot of the times. I’d definitely say it’s the plutonic influence.

✨🌙 Sagittarius Mercury, a lot of the ones I’ve met have voices that can be recognised from a mile away. But these people are great at voice impersonation lmao it’s honestly funny how accurate they can be.

That’s the end of my astro observations part 4 hope y’all enjoyed!

Once again let me know what you guys think : )

Till next time!

Love, Luna ✨🌙

[notnctu]

push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details -  hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞  

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical 

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Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances. 

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.” 

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression. 

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander. 

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room. 

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head. 

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!

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[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 III {finale} || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} {𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 II}

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : some part of you thought that maybe you could get through this without ever having to really talk about your feelings, or the future, or all those things you were pretending didn’t matter.  but they matter, and they can’t go unspoken forever.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 11.7k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (semi-public sex aka car sex), some possessiveness, angst, fluffffff way too much fluff, violence (mentioned), mentions of serious injury, military references, relationship discussions, choking (non-sexual lmao it’s just on food), minor character death (in a flashback kinda, not graphic)

You glanced over at him as he stared out into the road ahead, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking your skin.

The weekend getaway had been his idea, but he let you pick the destination.  You picked a cabin in a cute little seaside town, something relaxed where you could spend the whole weekend in bed together and not worry about the rest of the world for a little while.

But you were still in the car, so you were still worrying— specifically, worrying that this felt sort of like a boyfriend and girlfriend thing.  And that itself wasn’t so bad, but it made you feel like the ‘what are we?’ talk was inevitable, as was that talk going poorly.  You could picture it now: I like spending time with you, he’d say, one of those things that sounds like a compliment but really means you’re worth it as long as you require no effort and stay out of my way.

And you’d just nod and pretend to be okay with it because you were in too deep now to break it off.  When you were together, you were so happy that you couldn’t imagine ending it; and when you were apart, you missed him so much that all you could think about was the next time you would be together.

We’re happy now, why do things need to change? he’d say, one of those things that makes sense until you really think about it and understand that it just means why would I care if we’re moving forward or not?  I’m already getting what I want.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, and he glanced at you quickly.  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, squeezing your thigh.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“You expect me to believe that?” he chuckled.  “You’re overthinking again, I can feel it.”

“You can feel me overthinking?” you confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he nodded.  “I can tell your mood very well by now.”

“Alright, then why ask me what I’m thinking about if you already know what I’m feeling, mind reader?” you challenged.

“You’re sighing because you are bored from being in the car so long,” he decided, “and you’re also noticing that you’ve never dated anybody who drove such a nice car before.”

Does that mean we’re dating?  “Anything else?” you smirked.

“And you’re wishing I would move my hand a little higher.”

Before you could react to that, he moved his fingers up under your skirt, gripping your thigh tightly until you breathed another sigh— one very different from the last.

“Am I right?” he grinned.

“Spot on,” you breathed, whimpering a little when one of his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.  It was subtle, teasing, and yet it was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your thighs to clench together which he noticed easily.

He tutted in faux disappointment when his finger moved down to find a wet patch in the fabric.  “Oh, wet already… what are we going to do with you, draga?”

Whatever the fuck you wanna do with me, you thought, but when your lips fell open thankfully only a little moan fell out.

It was impossible to complain about the risk of distracted driving when his fingers slipped into your panties and explored your folds— yet you were about to complain when he pulled his hand away, until you watched him bring his soaked fingers to his lips, quickly getting a taste before reaching under your skirt again.  As if that wasn’t hot enough, he growled a bit when he pushed two fingers into you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you whispered, making him smile proudly.  He only ventured the fingers inside you briefly, sliding them out slowly to brush the rough pads of them over your clit and it made your whole body shudder— he pressed down, drawing slow circles, until you were biting back whimpers and pleas for more.

He kept on teasing you, only reaching as deep as he needed to to lightly press into your spot before slipping out to rub your clit and then start the process all over again.

“You’re so…” you panted.

“Hm?”

“You’re so mean,” you hissed.

“Am I?  I can stop if I’m bothering you,” he offered.

“N-no!  I… I just need more, please,” you groaned, yelping a bit when he pinched your clit roughly.

This time when he filled you with his fingers, he twisted his arm to go a bit deeper and kept his thumb on your clit, your soaked pussy making it easy for him to pump in and out at an increasing pace.

Your eyes fell shut as you gripped the seat beneath you, rocking your hips up against his hand for more.

“Ohh, fuck, Helmut, I’m gonna come,” you warned mindlessly.

You only opened your eyes when you felt the car start to shift, looking over to him as he checked the road before pulling over off the side and stopping near the wooded treeline.

“Wh-what are you—?” you mumbled, cut off when he put the car in park and grabbed your face to kiss you roughly.  You held the wrist by his hand that held your face, moaning against his tongue, still not sure what he was up to but already on board.

“Get in the back, I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, and you nodded dreamily as you broke away and awkwardly climbed into the backseat; he followed soon after, pushing you back against the leather and sliding his body between your legs; holding you close, kissing you harder.

It would have been reasonable to expect that the small space would make everything more uncomfortable, but instead it just made it hotter— like there wasn’t room to be anywhere but pressed right up against each other, like the only place he could rest his hands was on your body.  You felt totally helpless to his dominating and open-mouthed kiss, to his thick hands tugging your clothes out of the way while you blindly attempted to open his belt.

You reached into his trousers and found him already incredibly hard, wrapping your fingers around the silky skin and grinning when he cursed under his breath.

A bit hasty with your desperation getting the better of you, you guided him to your entrance and began to slowly push your hips forward— but he held your thighs and did it for you, sliding in in one smooth stroke.

This angle seemed to force him even deeper, and you clutched his shirt in weak fists as he pushed all the way inside.  “H-Helmut,” you breathed as he started to move, not quite sure if it was a plea for him to slow down or never stop.

“Fuck, say my name again,” he demanded.

“Helmut,” you repeated, giggling when he kissed your neck on a spot that sort of tickled a bit.  

“One more time,” he instructed; you could feel his grin against your skin, alongside his teeth grazing your pulse.

Just as you started to say it he fucked you harder all of a sudden, just to make you choke on it.  Soon you were saying his name like a prayer, over and over until you worried you’d lose your voice and he had to kiss you to make you stop.  “Say you’re mine,” he pleaded softly, right against your lips, “like you did the first time.”

You felt shame pang at the back of your head, a strong instruction from what was left of your logical mind not to do that.  But for all your mind’s protests, your body was already his and already bending to his will.  “Yours,” you moaned, “Helmut, I’m yours…”

“I know,” he breathed, nodding slightly as he kissed you again, “I know, baby.”

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his hips, holding him closer as he stayed deep inside you, barely letting him pull back to thrust though he still managed regardless.  The bottom of his shirt was rubbing against your clit (consequences of only half-undressing for a quickie) and it made your back arch until you couldn’t push your body into his anymore.

Embarrassingly quickly, pressure began to build inside you, your moans getting louder as they echoed around the inside of the car.

“Will you come for me, draga?” he purred, a low growl against your neck where he had moved his assault of wet kisses.  You nodded quickly, holding onto his back tight and biting down on your lip a bit too hard.  His hand held your neck, thumb running over your jaw, and in a way it soothed you, but it also sent you tumbling over the edge all at once   You barely choked out his name as your attempt at a warning, as if it weren’t obvious just from the way your channel seized up immediately.  “Good girl,” he cooed lowly right against your ear, “so good for me, don’t stop.”

You couldn’t stop so long as he kept his pace— not nearly as fast as you were used to, much more measured and patient, and yet it ruined you in a way nothing else could.

It was much too sensual for the backseat of a Lexus.  Much too delicate and loving for two people who weren’t even in a formal relationship.  Much too perfect to ever forget, irritatingly enough.

He kept his eyes open to watch your face closely as he came inside you, admiring every detail of your face twisted in pleasure— a tear even fell down your temple and he softly brushed it away— before it all slowed down to a stop and you were just holding each other.

Once you both cooled off for just a second, he pulled you close and rolled you around so he was sitting and you straddled his lap, keeping you in an embrace while he kissed your neck and shoulder.  “So beautiful,” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

You wanted to tell him that you meant it, that you were really his.  That it wasn’t just dirty talk (and you weren’t even sure if it qualified as ‘dirty’).  Even if he rejected you, at least it would be off your chest.  

But you chickened out; and in your defense, if there’s any time to have a talk with a partner that might end up awkward, right before a weekend trip is probably the worst time possible.  So, it was strategic aside from just pathetic.

“We’re already going to be a bit late,” he noticed, lifting his hand over your shoulder to look at his watch, “is it alright if we just stay like this for a while before I get back to driving?”

You nodded sleepily against his shoulder and he grinned, kissing your cheek.  “Maybe you can rest here in the back after that…”

And you did, drifting off quickly in the comfort of his arms.  You only partially roused from your sleep when he carefully pulled out of you and laid you down gently, the sound of the car starting coming a few moments later.

He had to keep his eyes on the road, but he wanted so badly to watch you sleep in the rearview mirror.  

“So, what did you think?” you smiled expectantly as you turned from watching the credits roll on the TV to looking at where he sat beside you on the cabin’s big fluffy couch.

“Eh,” he shrugged.

“What?!” you squawked.  “You just experienced an American classic!”

“American classics, in my experience, are aggressive and boisterous and… greasy,” he explained.

You snorted.  “How can a movie be greasy?”

“I meant the food—”

“Oh!  We should watch Grease!” you realized.

He grumbled something in Sokovian to himself as he rubbed his forehead, and you laughed in relent.  “Fine, I won’t make you watch anything more.”

“No, I like watching movies with you,” he decided, “but maybe the next one can be a bit more… subtle.”

"The next movie we watch should be Sokovian," you suggested.

"There aren't many Sokovian films… the constant war was pretty hard on the cinema industry, believe it or not,” he scoffed.  “We managed to make a lot of porn, though.”

“Well then maybe we should watch some of that,” you smirked, and he laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh no, it’s awful.  Plumbers and lonely housewives, cops pulling women over, that sort of thing,” he dismissed.

“Cheesy porn tropes, you say?  Like, perhaps, a professor and his student?” you pressed, leaning in to run your fingers playfully over his open collar.  “So unrealistic.”

“It was different with us,” he decided.

“How?”

“It wasn’t for a grade, we never used the term ‘oral exam’...”

“Mm, maybe we should have,” you purred, hopping up to straddle his lap and trace your finger over the chain of his necklace that was just barely exposed under his shirt.  “It’s sorta sexy.”

“Really?  Oral exam?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.  “Makes me think of the dentist.”

“Oh, so you don’t think dentists are hot?” you joked.  “Who doesn’t like latex gloves and drills in their mouth?”

He laughed, and although you were sort of trying not to seem totally desperate, you just couldn’t hold yourself back from trying to kiss that smile right off his face— thankfully he didn’t seem to mind, humming a bit against your lips and placing his hands on your back to hold you closer.

Just when you thought he would deepen it, he pulled back slightly.

“Wait,” he mumbled against your lips, pushing you back gently to break the kiss.  “It was… different with us, right?”

You shook your head slightly, confused as you struggled to remember what he was talking about.  “What?  Yeah, of course.”

Hastily pressing your lips back on his, you were all in but he was clearly distracted, only half-heartedly kissing you back; you could all but taste his hesitance and it forced you to pull back and look down at him again.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

“Oh, uh, nothing’s wrong,” he assured, “I just… I was just thinking.”

“...what were you thinking about?” you asked when you realized that was the end of his sentence.

“I was thinking about what you said a few weeks ago, on my birthday— that you liked that I’m so much older than you.”

“Mhm?”

“You’re not…” he started and began again.  “This isn’t just… about that, for you, is it?”

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“I mean, is that what this—” he motioned to the space between the two of you— “is about?”

You frowned, a little sinking feeling already forming in your gut.  “I don’t understand,” you spoke, but your fear was more that you understood him completely.

“My English isn’t good enough for this,” he sighed.  “Sometimes I worry that this is… something you do.”

“That what is something I do?” you asked, a bit more pointed than you meant for it to come out, but you really just needed him to say it.  

“Date older men,” he finally finished.  “Seduce professors, I don’t know, whatever you’d like to call it.”

You straightened up and got up off of his lap, stepping back.  “Seriously?  You think this is, like, my kink or something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he clarified, standing up with you, “but I’m asking in case I’m wrong.”

Maybe on some level, you could appreciate that it was a reasonable question.  After all, you had been sort of wanting to ask him if he made a habit of seducing students— but you didn’t because you knew it would be horribly offensive, which is why it was so aggravating that he was doing it to you now.  In these months together (but not together together), had he not learned enough about your character to realize you weren’t in it for anything but him?  “I told you I haven’t even dated that much before you,” you reminded him firmly, crossing your arms.

“And I believe you, I’m not accusing you of anything—”

“It kinda sounds like you are!” you snapped.

“And it sounds like you are getting defensive about it, which makes me worry even more!” he shot back, and you wondered if you’d ever heard him raise his voice before.

“Well, don’t worry about it, because it’s none of your business,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re not even dating anyway.”

Just as you started to walk away, not even sure where you would go when you were staying here with him (a walk outside, maybe, just to clear your head and be somewhere that he couldn’t see you cry?), he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, please,” he breathed, and only because he sounded so broken-hearted did you turn around.

“What?” you sighed, showing your irritation in lieu of your heartbreak.

He took a quick breath, collecting himself before he spoke again.  “I don’t mean to be invasive and I certainly don’t mean to be controlling,” he explained, “I just… I want to understand what you want.  From me, specifically.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “that might be a more complicated question than you realize.  With a complicated answer.”

“I have time, I have the rest of the weekend," he decided.  “Just tell me that this isn’t only fun for you.  If it is, then… then I’m glad you had your fun, and we can have fun together here, and then when we get back to the city… we can go our separate ways.”

“And if it’s not?”

He swallowed, looking away briefly before stepping closer, reaching up to cradle your face in his palm.  “If it’s not just fun, then… then we need to have a different conversation.”

You cleared your throat nervously.  “What conversation?”

“I need to know first,” he insisted, “or it would be wrong for me to tell you.  I don’t want you to spare my feelings, draga, I just want the truth.”

What you really wanted was to know his feelings first so you could spare your own, but he was so adamant on making you speak first, his gaze desperately searching your face as you tried to avoid the heat of it.  “I…” you began, not sure what to say.  You knew what you wanted to say, you just didn’t know how, exactly.  Looking up into his eyes again, you took a quick breath and started over, trying to ignore your heart racing inside your chest.  “It’s not just fun, Helmut, or a bucket list thing or a ‘trying something wild and crazy while I’m still young’ thing.  I’m serious about this… but, you know, if you just wanna stay casual I understand—”

He cut you off with a kiss, sudden but not quite desperate; rather relaxed, actually, and you melted into it as his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close.  

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. 

“You— what?” you gasped, pushing back slightly against his chest.

“I love you,” he repeated.  “It’s not just fun, it’s not a bucket list thing or a midlife crisis thing— I love you, I’ve been in love with you for weeks and couldn’t think of what to say… I was afraid to smother you, you wouldn’t be wrong to want more freedom than you can have with me.”

A shaky breath moved in and out of your lungs as you looked away from his gaze— it was too wonderfully all-encompassing for you to be able to process this with his eyes on you.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you,” he mumbled nervously, “but I can’t change how I feel.”

“No, it doesn’t… it’s good,” you smiled, starting to laugh.  Your heart was beating so heavy you could hear it in your ears, you could barely even hear yourself speak as you answered him.  “Helmut, it’s— I love you too, of course.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Really.” 

He kissed you again, harder, and neither of you could stop smiling through it.  "Say it again," he pleaded softly. 

"I love you," you repeated.  "I love you, Helmut."

“Mm, one more time,” he encouraged with a soft laugh as he lifted you into his arms and began to carry you down a familiar path to the cabin’s bedroom.

“I love you I love you I love you I—” you had to stop to gasp when he bit down on your neck, not too hard but still quite surprising, before he tossed you down onto the bed and pounced on top of you.

“Is it fair to say that we’re dating now?” he presumed, making you laugh.  

“Yeah, I think so.”

“So it’s just us, you and me, girlfriend and boyfriend?” he continued.  “Nobody else?”

“There was never anybody else,” you promised.

“I know, and now there never will be,” he cooed, placing a kiss right on your ear.  “You’re all mine now.”

A shiver ran up your spine instantly.  “God, how do you do that?  Go from sweet to filthy in a split-second?”

“Mm, a habit of mine,” he hummed, “because it makes you all cute and whiny.”

You frowned as he kissed your nose.  “Hey!” you, proving him right, whined; he laughed and held the back of your neck as he kissed you again.

Just the sex that followed that conversation would’ve been enough to make this an amazing weekend, but it was even better to leave the vacation as a couple when that wasn’t even how you’d started it.  

Afterwards, you laid together in bed and commiserated how silly you both had been to assume the other didn't want more, deciding from now on to be open and honest as much as possible.  That was what inspired you the next day to spend the morning trading secrets over the breakfast he'd made.

"I cheated on my eighth grade Spanish exam," you admitted, making him put down his fork in pretend shock.

"¡Chica traviesa!" he gasped.

"Maybe if I'd actually studied, I would know what that means…"

"Truthfully, I can't judge you.  I did something similar in my primary studies,” he recalled.  “I broke into the teachers' desk and stole an early copy of the exam.  But I didn't use it myself, I used it to impress a girl in my class."

You smiled trying to imagine that.  "I can see you as the romantic type when you were a kid," you hummed.

"I was more the rebellious type, with girls being one of the more reliable ways to rebel."

That piqued your interest, and you gave him an excited grin of anticipation.  "Did you have a punk phase?"

"It was Eastern Europe in the early 90s: of course I had a punk phase," he chuckled.  "How else do you celebrate the end of a brutal capitalist revolution but by importing every Western record you can find and dying your hair black in a petrol station's bathroom sink?"

"Oh my god!" you giggled.

"But it was rather minimalist, I wasn't permitted much stylistic freedom so it was little things like that… I wanted an ear piercing, but my mother would've truly had a heart attack."

"I guess you're better than I was,” you shrugged, “my rebellious phase was brief but with a much stronger willingness to sacrifice my mother's sanity."

"Yes, that's more typical," he nodded.  "I suppose my real secret was that I didn't want to rebel from my parents nearly as much as I thought I did… I just wanted to make them happy."

You smiled at him as he stared down at his plate.  "You sound like a sweet kid."

"Horrifically stupid and a bit self-involved but sure, sweet," he agreed with a chuckle.

"So, all our secrets are out, huh?" you grinned.

"Perhaps I have a few left," he smirked as he leaned across the table to kiss you softly.  "I'm saving them for a rainy day."

The weekend went by much too quickly, but you couldn’t begrudge the return to daily life now that you were returning to it together— so far, you’d found that together was the best way to experience life. 

Almost as fast as the vacation, so went the seasons as well: you both had classes through summer, and you enjoyed the freedom that came with a much more empty campus; fall, as always, was damp and chilly yet comforting— sometimes the leaves turned just the right color of brown before they fell to remind you of his eyes; winter sent you back home to see your family for the holidays, just for a few days, and you told them you’d bring your mysterious boyfriend next time even though it made your heart race to imagine that.

Your birthday passed at some point during the year, and he took you out to one of those slightly-hipstery barcades where he revealed his secret talent for skeeball— you were glad he felt comfortable completely annihilating your high score even on your birthday.  He invited your friends, too, and it went significantly less horribly than you imagined; they only asked him weird questions about being a professor a few times, but otherwise everyone got along oddly well.

And soon it was another spring again, one of your last ones before you graduated, and you let yourself focus on things other than what might happen when you left the university and he almost certainly stayed.  For now, you just needed to worry about how you’d ever find time for each other during finals season when both of you were busy for different reasons.

           Dinner tonight?  I have a reservation at 7 for a place in the museum district.  They have a dress code so wear something evening ready if possible.  -Z

you don’t have to sign your texts you know.  I know it’s you.  it says your name right above the text.

           It’s more formal this way.  -Z

it’s a text message, it will never be formal??

          Will I see you at dinner tonight or am I in trouble for asking over text?  -Z

I’ll be there

          I look forward to your company, draga

hey, you didn’t sign it!  progress!

         -Z

goddamn it

“This place is… really nice,” you noticed sheepishly, glancing around at the minimalist-yet-luxurious decor of the restaurant while you took your seat across the white-linen-covered table from him.  “Like, significantly nicer than I’ve ever been to before.”

“Well, you look like you fit right in,” he assured, and you almost believed him— it was the nicest thing in your closet, but still seemed like the wrong energy compared to how him and everyone else seemed so casually flawless.  “I took the liberty of ordering for you,” he explained as he poured water into your glass for you from the basin at the table, “I was going to make you order the salmon anyways, it’s really impeccable.”

“What’s the occasion?  I’m still feeling spoiled from the anniversary celebrations last month.”

You two had decided to celebrate a year since the day you’d met (and had sex for the first time; it was an action-packed day) instead of the day you had officially began your relationship, since there was no reason to commemorate months of pretending to be casual while you were both quietly devoted to each other.

“I just want to have a nice date with my girlfriend, is that so terrible?” he smiled.

“No,” you answered quickly, “but that’s a load of bullshit.”

He chuckled a little.  “You’re right.  I wanted to do something nice with you before I go.”

“Yeah, that’s not ominous at all,” you frowned.  “Care to elaborate, international man of mystery?”

The conversation paused briefly as the server came by with your meals, and you gave him a little nod of appreciation before he left; the salmon did look pretty amazing, and you trusted your boyfriend’s taste even if it was often more refined than your own.

“I need to make a trip home in the next few months,” Helmut finally clarified.  “Nothing particularly interesting, and thankfully all very temporary— boring estate management stuff, comes up every once in a while,” he shrugged.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound as needy as you felt.

“No more than three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” you yelped.

“You know I’d never leave your side if I had the choice,” he smiled.  “It’ll go by in a moment, you might not even notice I’m gone.”

“Are you kidding?  I practically live at your apartment.  We probably haven’t spent three days apart since we met.  Hell, we have sex, like, five times a week!”

You heard the chatter of nearby restaurant-goers die down, and you awkwardly looked around to find some of them staring at you as Helmut tried to suppress his laugh.

“I… may or may not have forgotten we’re in public,” you whispered harshly as most of them seemed to get back to their own conversations.  “Let’s not eat here again.”

“Oh, would you like to announce our sexual frequency anywhere else?” he joked, though his tone remained as serious as ever, and it made you laugh even though you were the butt of the joke.  “Olive Garden, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you demanded between hiccups of laughter.

“The Texas Roadhouse?  I’m sure they would love that,” he continued.  “They seem like a real liberal crowd.”

“Stop,” you snorted, trying to catch your breath and not laugh too loud in front of all these people who already had a poor impression of you.

“Or we can go to the drive-through at Taco Bell and you can tell them through the little speaker thing,” he offered, and you hid your burning face behind your cloth napkin.

“You’re mean, I was just trying to say that I’m gonna miss you if you’re gone for so long!”

He leaned across the table to grab the napkin and slowly pull it down from your face, smiling at you when he could see you again.  “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.  “We’ll have sex fifteen times when I get back, for lost time.”

“That’s not really my issue,” you sighed.  “I mean, yeah, we’re still definitely gonna do that, but that’s not what I’m gonna miss most.”

“I know,” he nodded, “don’t think I’m going to do anything but miss you terribly the whole trip.  In fact, that brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Telling me you’re leaving for three weeks isn’t the main topic of discussion?” you realized.

“It was, but now I’m here with you and it has me thinking all sorts of things,” he explained.

“Okay… what are you thinking about?” you asked quietly.

“Well, I was just thinking that I don’t want to keep you from living your youth while you can,” he answered, looking back at you as you took a sip of your drink, “but that I’d like to marry you.”

Just like that, you inhaled some water and began coughing and choking.

“Hypothetically!” he blurted out, leaning forward to make sure you were okay but you waved him back into his seat.

“I, uh,” you began, coughing one more time before you started again, “I didn’t think that was what you were thinking about.”

“Well, clearly,” he mumbled.

“I mean, I didn’t know you were thinking about that at all,” you explained, “like, I wasn’t sure that we were there yet.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice when I told you not so long ago that this year with you had been the best of my life,” he recalled, making you smile a bit to yourself at the memory.  “I’m there.  I’m just asking where you are.”

“I guess I need to think about that,” you lied.  You didn’t need to think about it, you knew that he was talking about exactly what you wanted, but you needed to convince him you were taking this question seriously— god knows he was constantly worrying that you shouldn’t be tied down to him when you were so young, and although you typically handled that by making a bondage joke (and he typically handled that by making a non-joke bondage offer), you didn’t want him to worry about this.  

“Maybe you can think while I’m on my trip,” he decided, “and when I come back, we can talk about the future.”

“I just meant for, like, a few minutes,” you admitted.  “I don’t need that long, Helmut.  I know what I want.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“To be with you, whatever that looks like,” you said, sounding more confident than you thought possible.  “That’s what I want.  And I don’t wanna hear you saying anything about how you think I might be too young for marriage or that I might change my mind later… I have a right to love just as much as you, and to know what’s right for me.”

“And it’s me?” 

You smiled as you reached for his hand where it rested on the table, squeezing his fingers in yours.  “It’s you.  Obviously.”

He looked at your hands held together before he smiled back at you— but it faded suddenly, and he pulled his hand away to lean back in his chair.  “There’s something else I should tell you, before I let you say too much...”

You swallowed thickly.  Oh god, here it comes.  Secret family in Canada, glue-sniffing addiction, absurdly specific and disturbing fetish… the wheel of misfortune was already spinning in your head, and you took a bite of your fish to try to look natural.

“You should know the truth about my family, back in Sokovia?  We’re, in a certain sense of the word… royalty.”

You started choking again; why did he keep telling you this stuff while you had something in your mouth??

“Shit, are you alright?” he asked nervously, and you nodded in spite of your fit of coughs.

“Are you a prince?!” you spat out as you started to catch your breath again.

“A baron.  A little less romantic, I know,” he smirked.

“And if… if what you’re talking about, actually happened, then that would make me…” you trailed off, raising your eyebrow expectantly.

“My baroness,” he finished for you.  Funny enough, the word my was doing more for you than the royal title.  “Hypothetically.”

“You keep saying that word,” you noticed.  “I hope we think it means the same thing.”

“Maybe a better word would be ‘eventually,’” he decided, and your back straightened because oh shit, this is really going to happen.  “Maybe an even better word would be ‘soon.’”

You almost choked again, with no excuse this time as there was nothing in your mouth to actually choke on.  “H-how soon?” you whispered, and his lips curled into a mischievous grin as he lifted his drink.

“Sorry darling, I don’t think I can tell you that,” he decided as he took a sip slowly, still staring you down over the rim of the glass.

You shifted nervously in your seat, trying to imagine how you were supposed to be anything but jittery after this conversation. 

“Can I ask an inappropriate question?” 

He raised his eyebrow.  “Let’s try not to scare the other patrons again, but sure.”

“How rich are you?” you blurted out, and he laughed a little.

“Somewhere between ‘outrageously’ and ‘ludicrously,’” he decided.  “It might seem a little far-fetched considering I prefer not to live extravagantly here in the States… but we’ve made good use of the last dozen-or-so generations of wealth.”

“And you let me pay for lunch last week!” you remembered, leaning forward to smack him on the shoulder with a scowl.

“That’s all you have to say about that?” he realized bewilderedly.

“It’s all that I can process right now!”

“I should apologize for not telling you sooner,” he nodded.

You paused as you stared back at him.  “I sorta thought you’d continue with that by explaining why you didn’t.”

He sighed, looking away.  “I spent so much time worrying you were only with me in pursuit of a new experience with an older man.  And then if you knew how much money was involved… I didn’t want to jump from one insecurity to the next with you, if I could avoid it.”

“You’re insecure about being rich?  Next you’re gonna start crying ‘cause your cock’s too big,” you rolled your eyes.

Again, other diners turned to you and this time you looked back at them.  

“What are you looking at, huh?” you snapped, and they all stared back down at their plates quickly.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“If you could stop antagonizing the public, that would be ideal,” Helmut hissed.

“I don’t think I’m handling this very well,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands.  “I wish you would’ve told me before.”

“So do I, but believe me that I had my reasons,” he sighed.

You lowered your hands from your face to rest them on your elbows as you crossed your arms.  “I think if we are going to talk seriously about this next step, then you’re gonna have to tell me those reasons,” you decided.

“Right, of course,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he looked to the side.  “Well, I guess I should start from the beginning.  As good a place to start as any, yes?”

You wrinkled your brow; you weren’t sure why he was so clearly nervous.

“As you can imagine, I was born into the royal life, I didn’t have much of a say in it all.  From the time I was eighteen I was the 13th Baron in a line of Sokovian royals who controlled a certain amount of land.  In retrospect, I understand how incredibly fortunate I was, especially compared to the poorest people in my country, but at the time all I could appreciate was that it was stuffy and boring and allowed for none of the adventure I longed for.  Hence the aforementioned punk phase, but that didn’t satisfy for long.  I suppose that was why I enlisted.”

“You were in the military?”

He nodded.  “Briefly.  I liked the idea of being a part of something that had nothing to do with my name.  And I was two years into my contract when my unit was stationed in a little border town, mostly farmland, but Sokovian borders are always contentious places… anyhow, one night, while another Lieutenant and I were on patrol, there was an ambush.  They shot at us, we shot back, but we were just firing into the dark so we went down rather quickly… I assumed that was the end, everything went black in an instant before I could even think…”

You shuddered, appreciating how traumatic this was for him as he looked down at his lap, stoic but in that way that clearly held more underneath.

“I woke up in a bed, in a cottage,” he recalled.  “A farmgirl heard the gunfire and waited until the enemy forces moved on to render aid.  She told me I was nearly dead when she found me but that her uncle was the local doctor and had been able to remove the bullets and stitch me up.”

“You told me those scars were from being attacked by a dog as a child,” you remembered.

“Yes, I didn’t forget the lies I told you,” he frowned.  “I think that one should be understandable.”

You swallowed, regretting saying anything.  “O-of course, I’m sorry.”

“The important thing is that she told me my partner was dead when she got there, and she couldn’t do anything for him.  I was in shock— keep in mind I was young and dumb and thought of myself as some kind of invincible— but for the next month she delicately nursed me into… at least decent health, and helped me cope with it all.”  He took a deep breath, a soft and somber smile crossing his face.  “I suppose you can imagine what happened next.”

He looked at you again and you gave him a shrug, unsure what he expected you to guess.

“We fell in love,” he finished flatly.

“Oh,” you nodded, “right.  It sounds pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, the wounded infantryman and the rural farmgirl… it was all very pastoral,” he sighed, “but anyways, my family was more than hesitant to allow me to marry a poor girl, which obviously only made me want to do it more.  I even told her that I’d leave the title for her, and she gave me some pitiful monologue about how she’d never forgive herself if she was responsible for me being disinherited, she pleaded with me to find a way to gain my parents’ approval… but I knew that we were in love and that nothing could stop us, so I didn’t think much of it.”

You tried to imagine him as a young, hopeless romantic, and some part of you was a bit jealous that others got the opportunity to experience that side of him when you didn’t; but it wasn’t like he was exactly cold and hardened now, at least not with you.  Just wiser, with more experience and more scars.

“My parents had put their foot down and demanded I call off the engagement.  And, oddly enough, they told me that it wasn’t her social standing that bothered them but that they simply didn’t trust her.  That they thought I was being rash and had only known her a few months— that I was too young, I would change my mind.  I was incensed; I mean, not only do they dare to insult my foresight, but this was the love of my life they were talking about like she was some conniving witch.  So I said some things I regret to this day, and I told them to keep their title and their properties and have me formally disowned at their earliest convenience.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Well, the truth, as it often does, came out sooner or later.  That all along, her love was for the money and not the man.  When I told her I’d left my title behind for her, she… didn’t take it very well.  And by that I mean she slapped me so hard I saw white for a second.”

Your heart hurt to imagine him being treated like that.

“I told her that we would be poor but we would be happy together, she told me that she never wanted to be poor again, that the reason she did all this was to get out of this hellish farming town and live in a castle in Novi Grad.  I suppose I could’ve forgiven all that, after all I imagine she struggled greatly for a long time living that way.  But then she started ranting about how she didn’t drag some dying Baron through the mud that night on the patrolway just to marry a poor man.  I was heartbroken just realizing that she knew who I was when she saved me— that she might not have if I were anyone else.  Like, say, my partner that night.”

Your chest was too tight to gasp properly.  “You don’t mean…” 

“She held out on me for a minute but I finally got her to admit it… the other man was alive when she found us, but she left him to die while she saved me, apparently planning from the very beginning to seduce me and escape to Novi Grad like she always dreamed of.  His name was Miroslav Pavlović, and he was a good man…  a boy, really, only twenty when he died.  Alone.  In the dirt.”

Hot tears on your cheeks made you realize you were crying, and you awkwardly wiped them away in hopes that he wouldn’t notice.

He took another deep breath and seemed to reorient his mind, away from the mourning and back to his story.  “Of course, I, being a young man with all my pride, told my parents that I ended it in respect of their wishes, but I think my mother suspected what really happened.  Especially when the girl went ahead and married my cousin.”

“She what?!”

“An industrious young woman, I have to give her that,” he nodded.  “She didn’t need a Baron, she just needed somebody who could get her out of the farm and into whatever her idea was of a luxurious life.  And yes, it is exactly as wonderful as you’re imagining to see her on those rare occasions where the extended family all has to gather.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled.  “That’s… cold.”

“I suppose it all worked out for the best— I dodged a bullet much worse than the ones that hit me before I met her, she got her riches and noble husband, and my parents were free to arrange a marriage for me with a woman of more adequate social standing.  I was so convinced I was terminally unlovable that I actually went along with it.”

“You married her?”

“No, I just agreed to, on the condition that we meet a few times first, at least.  It was the second time we met when she confided in me that she was actually a lesbian.”

“Oh!” you chuckled, hoping it wasn’t inappropriate to laugh a bit.  Not as his misfortune, per se, or at the idea of a lesbian in general, but just the way this story seemed to get more complex at evey turn.

“Yes, well, my family was more liberal but hers were not the sort who would respond well to that news… I considered going through with the marriage to give her an alibi, so to speak, and the both of us would quietly have affairs with women— ideally different women— to keep up appearances for our families.  She and I actually got along alright, we thought maybe we could be good friends, which some husbands and wives aren’t even when they marry for more genuine reasons.”

You scoffed as you nodded, “yeah, true that…”

“But,” he shrugged, “I got cold feet, I just couldn’t bring myself to resign to an entire relationship built on a lie again, so, I decided to leave it all behind and study at a German university— I chose history because I’d consumed historical nonfiction voraciously throughout most of my life and it seemed like a good fit, and I suppose it was the right choice… because here I am.”

You took a long, deep breath, but you didn’t feel that much more stabilized afterwards.  “Okay, a lot to unpack with that,” you announced.  “I understand why you didn’t tell me about the money, with everything that happened before… but you lived this entire life that I knew nothing about.  You already know everything about me.”

“I couldn’t tell you much more than I did without burdening you with it.”

“Sure, but you can appreciate that this puts me in a sort of vulnerable position,” you offered.

“Right,” he agreed.  “That was, of course, never my intention.  I don’t tell anyone the things I’m telling you now, understand that.  Everyone at the university thinks I came from much more humble beginnings and has no idea about my military service— well, except for that one royal historian who unfortunately recognized my name, but I’ve been bribing him into silence from my first day.”

“Wait, you pay him off?!”

“Oh, god no— I just grade his final term papers,” Helmut shrugged.  “But still, I got pretty comfortable with my reinvention, weeks go by without me thinking about my life before this.  Especially with you… sometimes I thought maybe it would be better to quietly abandon it all and become the person you thought I was.”

You smiled a little; maybe you wished that you knew how to be angry with him even in times like this, but you just couldn’t do it.  “You’re still the person I think you are,” you assured.  “Where you come from is not who you are, it’s just one of those things that help make you who you are.  It’s up to you to decide what you do with it… and I think you’ve done something pretty great with it.  Plenty of people who didn’t need to work for a living just wouldn’t.”

“I know it sounds nice, and I won’t pretend it isn’t an invaluable resource, but I find it much more fulfilling to work.  I really love what I do, so that helps.”

Nodding a little to yourself, you reflected on how true that really was; after all, this all began in a classroom where you were enchanted by his passion.

“I suppose the moral of the story is… I’m sorry that I hid things from you,” he concluded firmly.  “I’ve learned that I can’t protect myself from heartache and love you properly at once— I have to pick one.  I want to choose to love you, I want to choose that every day for… well, forever.  If you’ll let me.  But if the secrets are too insurmountable, I won’t judge you.”

You let out a heavy sigh.  “That’s the dilemma of love, isn’t it?  You have to be willing to get hurt.  But the last thing I want is to hurt you, I promise.  And in the end, it really doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor or a fugitive from the law or an alien from space: I love you, really.”

For the first time since he started telling you everything, he seemed to relax.  “I love you too, I hope that much is obvious.”

You nodded, reaching across the table to hold his hand.  “Yeah, it is.  I’m still getting used to that, honestly.”

“Not that I don’t mind being the first,” he tilted his head, “but it’s a shame no one ever cherished you before, in the way that you deserve.”

“You do seem to mind it a little bit, when you always go on about ‘keeping me from my youth’ or ‘restricting me when I should be free’ or whatever,” you recalled, putting on a poor imitation of his accent when you quoted him.

“Well, I guess it’s that I never desired to be the first,” he clarified, staring you down suddenly, “but that I intend to be the last.”

That look… you were already biting your lip and you didn’t even notice it.  “Okay,” you sighed.

“Hm?”

“You can be the last, just take me home,” you whispered, crossing your legs to hold your thighs together as your tongue ran over your teeth.

He could only bear to tear his eyes from you for a second as he called out, “The check, please!”

wanna come over later?  I can’t focus enough to study

You stared down at the text you’d sent Kacey, wondering if it made you sound pathetic.  You didn’t want to seem like the sort of girl who made her boyfriend her whole life, and therefore had no idea what to do with herself while he was gone.  And to be clear, it wasn’t loneliness itself that made you so listless; of course, you missed him plenty, but your inability to get anything done or even enjoy some alone time was disrupted by that sort of numb, shocked feeling you got every time you remembered that he wanted to get married.

Even more shocking: you wanted to get married.

It didn’t feel too soon, it didn’t feel all that sudden, but it felt like it should feel too soon, if that makes any sense.  Maybe you could try to explain it to Kacey if she ever checked her damn phone.

You groaned as you tossed the device away, knowing staring down the screen wouldn’t make her answer any faster.  Having already watched everything good on every streaming service ever, you figured your next step was to move on to the mediocre things on streaming, but you couldn’t decide between a show about renovating tiny-houses or cooking using only leftovers.

It was hard to focus on your choices when you kept playing the moment before he left in your mind over and over.

You nestled in under his arm around your shoulders, tightening your grip around his torso until you caught a glance of his watch.

“Don’t you need to leave soon?  There will be traffic on the way to the airport.”

“No, there shouldn’t be, it’s only a ten minute drive.”

“What?  It’s at least half an hour.”

He laughed a little as he realized the misunderstanding.  “Darling, I’m not going to the airport.  I’m going to a private airport.  For a private plane.”

You cleared your throat.  “Oh… right.  Still getting used to the exorbitantly rich thing.”

“But I suppose I should finish my packing, I think I’ve put off the last of it long enough,” he sighed, sitting up and tearing himself out of your arms even though you were pouting about it.

Before he left he gave you a long kiss at the door, just meant to say goodbye, but then your knees went weak and he had to hold you and it all started to lead from one thing to another very quickly.

“Fuck, Helmut, your flight,” you reminded him breathlessly, holding onto his biceps as he kissed down your neck.

“They’ll wait for me, it’s my fucking plane,” he growled, grabbing your hips hard.  “I need to be inside you one more time before I go.”

Just as the best parts of the memory started to flood back, your phone rang and you jumped up instantly; the sound of 99 Luftballons, your custom ringtone for him that started as a joke but stuck for some reason, told you it was your boyfriend calling and it barely rang for a second before you answered.

“Hi!” you greeted instantly.  You looked at the clock on the wall and did some quick math to realize it was probably almost time for dinner there, when it was still before noon where you were.

“Hello, darling,” he answered back, his voice instantly soothing you as you leaned back against the headboard of your (his) bed.

“Your accent is stronger than when you left,” you noticed.

“This is the first time I’ve spoken English in days,” he explained.  

“How does it feel to be home?”

“Do you mean being in Sokovia, or talking to you?”

“Baaaabe,” you whined playfully, “you’re gonna make me all needy…”

“I just wish I was there to see the effect I was having on you,” he cooed.  “It’s been a bit boring without you— I’m going to bring you with me next time, I assure you.  Not just because I miss you so much, but so you can see the country.  I want you to see my homeland and there’s no one better to show you around than myself.”

“You really love it, don’t you?” you hummed.

“More than almost anything,” he answered, and you knew what he was implying he loved most.  “I know it has… struggled, it isn’t considered exactly a vacation spot by many, but it means everything to me.  I don’t have much family left for you to meet, but I’m sure I’ll find some people to show you off to.”

“I’d love to come with you,” you agreed, “you know I’d go with you anywhere, though.”

“And you need to try the ćevapi!” he added, and you could hear his beaming smile through the phone.  “Sokovian food is very different from Western dishes but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed dreamily, laying back on the pillow as you heard him sigh from the other end.

“God, I miss you,” he breathed, making you hum proudly.

“Miss you too,” you agreed.  “I’ve been thinking about you a lot…”

“Yeah?  I bet I can guess what you were thinking about.”

“Such as?”

“Things I can’t say right now, in case someone hears me,” he chuckled.  “We may not speak English much but they still understand it.”

“Well, I’m all alone,” you purred, “and I’ve been thinking about everything I’m gonna do to you when you get back.”

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t—” he pleaded weakly.

“I really wanna ride you,” you continued in a sultry voice you didn’t even mean to put on, “even though you’re probably too big for that, I just want you so deep in me I can’t fucking breathe—”

“You’re cruel,” he hissed, a low whisper, and you loved his helplessness.

“It’s been so lonely without you, Helmut, I’ve been fucking myself with every toy I can find but nothing fills me up like you do, god I just need your cock.”

“I should’ve had something custom made,” he decided, still whispering but you could hear him smirk, too.  “So it’s only ever me inside you.”

“Even then, it’s not the same… it has to be you, the way you fuck me is just impossible to recreate, nothing’s as good as you, professor.”

He made a strained noise and you giggled happily.  “How long has it been since you’ve called me that?”

“Too long,” you hummed, “I still think it’s pretty hot.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” he chuckled breathlessly, “listen, I have to return to my meeting, and you’ve made it impossible to focus on boring legal things now but I need to try my best.  Alright?  I’ll call you tonight, if you’re still awake.”

Of course, your tonight was his tomorrow morning; you decided not to make him worry by admitting you would stay up all night to be able to talk to him.  “Okay,” you sighed, “good luck in your boring legal meeting.”

He gave one last whispered ‘goodbye’ and the line beeped as the call ended; you sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up at your ceiling blankly.

He’d only been gone four days.  How were you supposed to make it to three weeks?

When his plane landed, you were waiting for him in the car, parked on the runway; it was a much quicker process than picking someone up from a traditional airport, plus you got to run to him the second he was off the plane and it made you feel like you were in an old movie or something.

Throwing dignity to the wind, you jumped into his arms and let him spin you around, setting you down to kiss you hard as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, hands gripping your waist, and you’d been trying to imagine this moment ever since he left but you couldn’t have ever come close to how perfect it was.

“Missed you more,” you promised with a smile.  “Let’s go home, Helmut.”

“Or…” he trailed off, and you raised an eyebrow as you sank back down onto your heels and looked up at him.

“Or?”

“Or we could get back on the plane and tell them to take us wherever we want.”

“I-I have finals!” you gasped.  “So do you!”

“Not until next week,” he dismissed, “this is just for a few days.”

“I haven’t packed any of my stuff!”

“You have your phone, everything else can be bought when we get there,” he shrugged.

“What’s gotten into you?!” you giggled, looking back up at him wildly and wondering how he could seem so calm.

“I’m rich and in love and a little bit impulsive, is that so bad?” he smirked.  “Where do you wanna go, draga?  Rome?  Sydney?  Jakarta?  Nairobi?”

“...Luxembourg,” you blurted out.  

He chuckled a little, eyes sparkling.  “Why there?”

“First place I thought of.  Is that a good enough reason to want to go someplace?”

“It is to me,” he grinned.  “You get on the plane and get comfortable, I’ll tell the pilot where we’re going.”

“Okay,” you laughed.  “This is crazy, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded, taking your hand and guiding you up the stairs back onto the jet.

It wasn’t like you’d never experienced the concept of travel before, but it was still blowing your mind that you’d woken up in your (his) bed this morning and now, in the same day, you were spending your evening in box seats at the Luxembourg National Opera.  He picked out the gown you were wearing (only fair since he was picking up the tab) and at first you had worried you couldn’t pull it off, but the way he kept glancing over at you made you confident you looked just fine.

“You’re not watching the performance,” you whispered to him, leaning closer to his shoulder.

“You don’t really need to see an opera, do you?” he frowned.  “Can’t I just look at you?”

“These tickets cost an arm and a leg, you can look at me for free!” you hissed, but you softened a bit when his hand moved to rest on yours and he kissed your temple softly.

The two of you stayed that way for the rest of the performance, leaning on each other and holding hands.  Even when you'd been together this long, you still felt butterflies when he interlaced his fingers with yours.

When the show was over and the lights came up to a wave of applause, he looked at you with bright eyes and took your hand.

"Let's walk to the hotel, yes?" he suggested.  "Explore the proper way instead of a cab."

"I can't walk that far in these shoes," you frowned.

"I'll carry them for you!"

"I can't walk that far barefoot," you laughed.

"Then I'll carry you," he offered, extending his hand for you to take.

And that was how you ended up being carried piggyback through the streets of Luxembourg, across cobblestone that reflected the soft yellow glow of the street lamps and sconces, in the most expensive dress you'd ever worn.

Life is crazy like that, sometimes.

"You know, this place is a bit like Sokovia," he decided, "but with a better GDP and fewer churches."

"As I understand it, most of the world has a better GDP and fewer churches than Sokovia," you quipped.

"Hey!" he yelped in defense.  "Just because it's completely true doesn't mean you have any right to say it!"

You laughed, holding onto his neck tighter but trying your best not to inadvertently choke him.

"Typical of a Westerner to have something snarky to say while standing on the backs of hard-working Sokovians," he scoffed, "or, in this case, riding on the back of one hard-working Sokovian."

"Hard-working?  What exactly does a Baron do for work?" you interrogated.

"Uh, carry spoiled girlfriends around tiny European countries, for one," he enumerated, "and when we're not casually becoming distinguished professors in America, we have to manage the various projects of the estate… the Zemo family— which is just me, at this point— runs eleven orphanages.  I visit those sometimes and make sure they have everything they need."

"Okay, I don't know that I'd call that hard work, but it's very important so you get a pass," you decided.

"This is us," he announced he stopped walking.

"What's us?" you asked, looking around.

"This building, this is where we're staying," he explained as he set you down and made sure you were balancing right on your heels.

You let your jaw drop as you looked up at the building, admiring the carved stone face with its intricate detail, designs that evoked a certain prestige that just couldn't be found on American buildings.

"Wow," you nodded, "you really don't skimp on your last-minute random vacations, huh?"

"Not if I can avoid it," he shrugged, leading you inside.

For an exterior so gothic, the hotel’s lobby was modern and clean, though certainly not lacking in extravagant touches; you were a bit too tired to properly appreciate that, though, leaning up against his shoulder as he conversed with the front desk clerk in German in order to finish the check-in process.

The hotel had one of those elevators with mirrors on the walls, and a more energetic version of yourself might have noticed the fooling-around potential of the space, but instead you just let your eyes fall shut until you reached the correct floor.  Being an incredibly fancy place, the rooms had actual keys and not just RFID keycards— you thought Helmut looked quite regal in his opera tux, unlocking a mahogany door with a golden key.  Hard to imagine him in a windowless office and a messenger bag on his shoulder now, but you could remember falling for him in that state just the same.

He let you in first— a true gentleman, of course— and the moment the door to the room shut behind him, you groaned and flopped down onto the bed unceremoniously.  He, meanwhile, undid his bowtie and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt before he laid down on his side by you, running his fingers over your back left exposed by the dress for a few moments before he pulled away.

“Darling?” he called to you softly, but you were too lazy to lift your head from where they were buried in the pillows.

“Mhmm?” you answered back, muffled.

“I…” he began, sighing before he started over.  “Well, nevermind.”

“What is it?” you pressed, turning your head over to see him— but then you saw his face, and the conflicted look it wore, and you sat up to lay closer to him.  “What’s wrong?” you asked gently, watched the way his hair fell into his face when he combed his fingers through it and glanced away from you.

“Draga, I must admit that I lied to you before about why I was returning home,” he spoke, and you were confused but said nothing.  You would’ve worried if it weren’t for the look on his face— calm, yet with something brewing in his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe.  But you trusted him.  When your brain would normally fill the silence with a thousand awful ideas of his real reason for his visit to Novi Grad, it was suddenly quiet.  “It wasn’t just for management of the estate… I had to retrieve something.”

He reached into his coat pocket, fishing out a small velvety box with red and gold along the edges.  Your heart either stopped, or beat harder than it ever had before; at a certain point the difference was irrelevant.  

“I know I should wait longer, for the perfect time, or even just any other time than when you’re not jet-lagged and I’m not so nervous I can’t even think, but…”

A sudden sigh fell from your lips when he opened the box and showed you the ornate ring inside— you couldn’t tell if it was aquamarine or blue diamonds but they shined brilliantly nonetheless.

“My mother wore this ring from the day my father gave it to her until the day she died,” he explained.  “I would like for you to wear it.”

Too stunned to do much else, you looked up at him blankly.

“I want you to be my wife,” he clarified, like he thought you didn’t understand what he was asking, and finally you snapped back to reality (as overwhelming as that reality was).  You smiled, even nearly laughing,  as you leaned in to almost press your lips to his— but when he leaned closer you kept him at bay with a hand on his collar.

“Say it again,” you requested coyly.

“You’re going to make me propose twice?” he realized, and you nodded as you bit your lip.  “I’ll say it a thousand times, draga: be my wife.”

“Two down, 998 to go,” you grinned, laughing when he growled and pulled you closer to bury his face in your neck.  You definitely noticed the longer beard when it tickled your skin with every kiss to your pulse.

“Be my wife, be my wife, my wife,” he cooed, casually starting to slip the ring on your finger before you dodged him.

“No no no, you haven’t said it a thousand times yet,” you chided him, “and I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet.”

“Oh, darling, don’t dare me to make you say ‘yes’ as if I don’t make you scream it out every night.”

And that’s exactly what he did: make you say yes a thousand times to a thousand proposals, pinning you down and showering you in love relentlessly.  For once you just accepted it; for once he didn’t feel guilty.  

In a certain sense it was sort of hasty, half-dressed and unexpected with him fumbling to hold your dress out of the way while you clung to his shirt and kissed him hungrily: but still, it was nothing less than sensual, due in part to every beautiful thing he whispered to you until you were too far gone to understand them.  He still kept going after that, even, just to feel the weight of his words on his tongue.  Just to promise himself to you whether you could hear him or not.

Who could say how far into the night it went?  That was the magical thing about it all— neither of you cared, neither of you worried or even thought twice about what time it was or if the sun would rise soon or if it would never rise at all and this was actually the beginning of the apocalypse.  It didn’t make a difference; because whether the world ended now or in a decade or in a billion years, you would be together for the rest of your lives.

We were young and in love and I knew nothing could stop us, you remembered something he said.  He said it like it was ridiculous, just a frivolous dream; and in retrospect, he may have been right about that specific situation, but now you understood why he had felt that way— you too felt that euphoric glow of knowing you were on the edge of something amazing.  Maybe not something perfect, but something that would work out for the best in the end.

When he was finally satisfied with how many times he had satisfied you and you fell asleep on his chest, he took the opportunity to slip the ring on your finger, admiring how beautiful your hand looked wearing it before he kissed the top of your head.

“Fits perfectly,” he whispered to you in spite of your unconsciousness.  “We’ll be so happy, draga… I promise.”

[hops-hunny]

Stories That Are Told

Pairing: Tarrant “Hatter” Hightopp x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: (Y/n)’s so used to being the background character in everyone’s story that she forget she can be the main character in her own.

Warnings: Slight angst but majority fluff!

A/N: I love this man with my whole being omg pls

Stumbling into Wonderland with Alice had been a wonderful thing for not only Alice, but (Y/n) as well. For Alice it was an escape from all the things she didn’t wanna do and would never wanna do. She wasn’t forced to marry some sod of a guy who’d make her miserable for the rest of her life or to be the proper lady she was expected to be, but instead she got a taste of freedom. And although it was an escape for (Y/n) as well, it was an escape of a different kind.

In the other world, with it’s dreary skies and monotonous patterns and cycles, (Y/n) lived a very humdrum life. Her family had never been as fortunate as Alice in any ways of the sorts, it was a miracle that they were friends to begin with. Alice’s father had been friends with (Y/n)’s since boyhood and because of that, he always made sure they knew they were welcome to anything of his that they wished. And while (Y/n)’s father had never taken advantage of that from the way Alice’s mother treated (Y/n) and her family, it wouldn’t be hard to think otherwise.

When Charles was still around, she hadn’t done anything out of line. The older woman always kept to herself, occasionally having an afternoon cup of tea with her own mom. However, her true colors and feelings came to light after the passing of her husband. During the next few months after her husband’s absence, the (L/n)s were there for Kingsleighs. Although they didn’t have the funds to help them monetarily (for they also didn’t need it), they offered their labor and services to the two as much as they needed. Farm work, house cleaning, garden maintenance. Anything you could think they had done. But as soon as Helen was well (as well as you could be after losing someone so dear) , she had forbid them from coming to their property. She didn’t believe her and Alice should associate with people of “such low stature” because it didn’t “align with their image”. But that had never stopped Alice.

Anywhere Alice went, (Y/n) was always there by her side right along with her. They practically went everywhere together and that hadn’t changed since they arrived in Wonderland. (Y/n) was grateful that she had chased after her friend. It was like she knew something would happen. Afterall, crazy things always happen when you put two curious girls together for more than a moment. The friends they had made since they arrived were nothing short of lovely. She knew her sister would describe them as odd characters and disturbing individuals. Telling her to stay far away from them and to not associate herself with those types. But what was wrong with being odd or even disturbing? The only things worth doing in life were a bit odd and disturbing and if that made her peculiar than so be it. 

For the first time in her life, she felt as though she belonged. Sure, it wasn’t her story nor her destiny to be here as it was Alice but that did not mean she did not appreciate Wonderland for what it was. The story had never been her story, not here, and certainly not where they were from. Alice was the main chat and she was the topic that would get trickled in after. 

“Everyone has a part to play, (Y/n). Even if it is not large or as set in stone, each person’s role is necessary for the story to progress, even yours. You’ll see.” the words of that tricky caterpillar replayed in her head over and over again whenever she had a moment to think. What had he meant by that? Was her story not more than to be here in support of her dearest friend and the latest edition to their friends? Was she not just a tool in the scheme of things? (Y/n) had never known people of lesser importance as herself to contribute much of anything big to a legacy as large as Alice’s! 

From her end of the table, she watched as Hatter threw his hat high into the air before it landed on his head causing everyone to erupt in a jostled mess of laughter and cheering. She smiled fondly from a far. Tarrant was a kind man. No matter what was going on or where they were, he always had a way of making her feel included. That’s just who he was. He had known what it was like to feel excluded from things and the last thing he’d wanna do is be the cause of that for someone else. But it was nothing more than his nature, that’s it.

“You know, you should just tell him how you feel.” a velvety voice sounded from beside her ear causing her to jump. The (h/c) haired girl glared at the purple cat, reaching a hand to swat him away but he disappeared once more before appearing on her other side. “He watches you often, even when there is not many around to see. But I always do of course.” The Cheshire cat said in a sure tell tone. The girl scoffed at him, shoving another small pastry into her mouth.

“I’m not in the mood for one of your jokes today, cat. So if you’ve come to mock my feelings during my 2nd to last day in Wonderland, I wish you well and send you off.” she huffed out, crossing her arms across her chest, turning her gaze away from him back to Tarrant who was already looking at her. The Hatter gave her a secret wink and a smile before turning back to the March Hare who seemed rather frazzled about something. Or perhaps excited. But once again, the grinning cat appeared in front of her face once more.

“Silly girl, you ignore the plain truth in front of you? I can see why you and Alice get along so well, both of you can be quite foolish. Oh well, the story isn’t over yet after all.” and with that he was gone. What did he mean by that? The story was clearly over. Alice had done what she set out to do. The Jabberwocky had been slain, the White Queen ruled once again, and all had been made well. And what was with everyone with stories? Not everything you can do will always be a story and not every story comes to an end. She decided not to dwell much on it. This was her last night she’d ever spend in Wonderland and she’d rather like to keep it in good memory.

So when the White Queen offered her a hand to dance she took it, their dresses swaying in the wind in oppositional unison. They all danced with one another, twirling, laughing, and having a grand time. The entire time the smile never once left (Y/n)’s face which a certain hatted man enjoyed with all his being.

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

“I can’t believe you’re leaving today. It seems as if it was only yesterday when you arrived.” the girl swiveled around to see the red head there, a bittersweet smile on his face. His smile grew once she turned to face him. Removing his hat, he bowed as he grabbed one of her hands placing a delicate kiss to the top of it. “I am delighted to have known a woman as graceful as you.” hot tears sprung into her eyes which she quickly got rid of before he stood up. Giggling some she hopped onto the large sit swing, motioning for him to join her.

“Don’t get sad yet, Hatter. I’ve still got a few hours left. You can’t rid of me that easily.” he joined her on the swing, a wide grin still on his face. Although it was partly real, she could tell there was some sadness lingering behind it. (Y/n) turned her gaze to the sight in front of them. From the large benched swing, you could see just about all of wonderland over the edge of the cliff. “Besides, there’s not much to miss. I’m just me.”

“And ‘just you’ is a lot! I’ll miss everything about you. The way you mimic the bird calls you hear, the way you get excited when the rock you skipped across the water goes further than you imagined,” she looked at him in shock as he continued to speak, “E-even the smaller things like how you leave the crust of your sandwich for last and give your crumbs to the ants. But I think more importantly I’ll...I’ll just miss your presence.” he said the last part softly, staring off the edge of the cliff to avoid her gaze. A million thoughts raced through her heads as he spoke. Could it really be? Could he really share the same feelings as she did? (Y/n) reached a shaky (s/c) hand to lay on top of Hatter’s pale one, intertwining their fingers.

“Hatter, I've got something to tell you. During my time here in Wonderland, I’ve enjoyed every second I’ve had with everyone. But more importantly, I’ve enjoyed my time so much with you and I believe it’s only fair to share with you that my feelings I have for you go beyond those of normal friendship. I guess you can say I’ve grown...quite mad for you.” his head whipped to face her as he stared into her eyes, tears welling within his own. He flashed her another smile except this one was genuine, filled with the love and warmth he had shown her the entirety of her time in Wonderland.

“(Y/n)! Alice sent me to fetch you. I’m afraid it’s time for the two of you to head back.”

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

After a lot of shedded tears, heartfelt speeches, and goodbyes that were nothing short of wholesome, it was time for the two to head home. Alice patted (Y/n)’s shoulder before holding her arm out for her to grab. As they neared the portal, (Y/n) turned around once more to stare at her friends but when she got to Tarrant, her heart began to break. The gaze they held with one another was long until she simply couldn’t take it. Without thinking she ran up to him once more, grabbing his shoulders tightly.

“Hatter, Tarrant, I need to know how you feel. I couldn’t live with myself if I left and never knew.” he shook his head, looking away from her as he tried to stop the waterworks that were withheld behind the dam. Hot tears streamed down the delicate skin of the girl’s face. “Hatter...please.” her voice was broken as she begged.

“I believe I wasn’t honest myself either. I am completely enamored by you, my dear. I wish I had said something sooner but even though I couldn’t, I’ll always hold a special place for you in here.” he said, placing a hand over his heart. Standing on the tips of her toes, she leaned forward placing a quick peck to his cheek.

“What if it isn’t too late? What if I stayed?” she started, watching as he shook his head, “Hatter listen! You may think I’d regret if I stay but I think I would regret even more not following my heart the first time it’s ever tried to tell me something. Nothing would make me happier than staying here with you...that is if you’d allow it.” a silence fell over as everyone awaited his answer. Without another thought Hatter leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and sweet. Filled with a silent promise, a silent vow to care for her as deeply as his heart will allow. 

“I do not know what I did to get so lucky, but I would do it again if needed.” she felt herself grow flustered at his words. A quick peck was placed on his lips before walking over to Alice once again. The blonde had tears of her own in her eyes. She was glad her friend had found something to fight for, something to call her own. But also for the first time in many years, they would not see each other everyday as they once did. They both stared at each other before throwing themselves into each other's arms, laughing in unison as bittersweet tears fell.

“Good luck. Make sure you put your foot down. You’re Alice! You listen to no one and march to no one’s drum but your own.” Alice gave her a curt nod.

“Take care. We’ll meet again, do not doubt it.” 

Although Alice’s story had seemingly come to an end, it seemed as though (Y/n)’s story was just beginning. For once she wasn’t the side character in someone’s tale, but the main character in her own.

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