#but the other eras i either have one thing that I need to wear
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hiii! about that one terukane post discussing the clock keepersâ original time period/location, i did some light searching and it mostly points to the clock keepers coming from around the 1800s! iâll write down a few reasons why!
clothing:
miraiâs attire may seem a bit more western at first glance , but going off her sandals (sorry iâm not sure about the name) and the outfit under her cloak, it seems that it is either inspired or is the same as 1800âs japanese winter wear, with the same design, albeit with miraiâs design being a bit more puffy/flowy(?) see here:
so miraiâs outfit points to around the 1800âs, but what about kako and akane?
kako and akane donât have much to go off, except for their sleeve garters/arm bands! sleeve garters started being manufactured around the late 1800âs, and they were used by people who needed to adjust their sleeves without much hassle! kako is shown to tinker with machinery, and we all know that can become seriously messy, so he uses sleeve garters to prevent his sleeves from being too long and messing with his work!
another thing to add are their tassels, which were used in the 1800âs as well(?)
other than their clothing, we can also refer to their boundary and the particular clock they used in chapter 111!
machinery:
the boundary mechanisms look particularly similar to clocks i found online that date back 200 years ago (i think) like this,
although i am not sure if this can be used as evidence as inspiration could be taken from any similar time periods, i believe that it most resembles the machinery of this particular era!
however, we can see that the big clock used to change the present/operated by the yorishiro has a unique style, quite unlike clocks today or the slim grandfather clocks we associate with the clock keepers! however, I found a clock quite similar to it that dates back to early-mid 1800âs (1800-1849)!
even though the time periods donât nessecarily overlap, it still proves to be quite useful evidence!
itâs quite reminiscent of the big ben, built in 1943, overlapping with the manufactured period of the supernatural clock they used đ°ïž, giving me reason to believe that the clock keepers might have made/maintained this when alive in that time period as mechanics!
lastly, the town!
not much to say here, but judging by the common people in the heart of the boundary and the fact that they spoke an unfamiliar language, i have reason to believe that kako might have originated from around europe, prob not in england, because akane learns english in school! (not accounting for older english)
i wonât say that it is in this specific location, because tbhk is obv a work of fiction with little to no actual ties to real locations, but i will say that the town is reminiscent of old luxembourg in ville-haute, to the south, which was known for its industry in the 19th century!
for reference:
sorry for the bad quality ahah
there are some holes here and there such as miraiâs japanese like clothing not matching kakoâs more western attire, or why certain thing donât overlap, but this is what i could find haha
so in conclusion iâd reckon the clock keepers to be from around the 1800âs in europe(my guess is old luxembourg city in villehaute, southern luxembourg), where kako is a mechanic known for his knack for machinery and mirai is either his adopted daughter from far away or a pinocchio-esque figure to keep kako company!
hope this helped!
WAHHH, TYYY !! This was so helpful, tysm !! (â§ââŠ)b <3
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Was all excited about potential costumes to wear to the film tonight when it was announced and now that itâs here Iâm realizing I did not prepare at all and now have no idea what to wear
#i leave in two hours what am I doing#Im about to just wear an Etsy TS shirt and sweatpants#i want to combine all the eras but I donât have stuff for every era and I donât wanna leave anyone out#because Im autistic and non living non physical concepts have feelings#i also Wanna be more subtle because itâs in a normal place rather than a stadium reserved for this purpose#was just gonna do rep cuz itâs my favorite aesthetic era as a swemo but I also Wanna wear my red scarf#and i didnât get to wear my mirror all earrings to the concert cuz I lost them so even tho I love my snake earrings I wore#i Wanna wear them#and If Im wearing three eras I might as well wear them all#i use a flannel as my cold weather pre winter jacket so thatâs evermore#and then i got a 1989 era vibe skirt#and a karma tshirt#but then i dont really have anything got debut fearless and lover#aside from my nail polish and face jewels if I decide to wear them which I probably will#i got so much rep and a lot of midnights and red#but the other eras i either have one thing that I need to wear#or nothing at all#i got lover earrings but then Iâd have to skip folklore and wearing two different earrings looks too weird#i got these brown tights I can wear that give off a kind of fearless vibe even tho fearless is more yellow but tv has a lot of brown#Im way overthinking this no one will care what Iâm wearing lol#i think Iâm just gonna go with my simple as many eras as possible outfit choice#and just vibe
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One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.
From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.
Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.
Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.
When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.
You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.
Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.
Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?
Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.
And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.
The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.
So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!
#dead boy detectives#dead boy detectives analysis#costume design#edwin payne#charles rowland#crystal palace#niko sasaki#jenny green#esther finch#the night nurse#tragic mick#monty finch#the cat king
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ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna drabble-headcanon thingy part 2 | part I here w/c - 750 cw: manga spoilers (although I'm only on chapter 180 so if it kind of doesn't make sense with the rest I'm sorry!!)
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who wakes up a thousand years later, now trapped in a boy's body, unaware of the fact that you, too, had made a deal with the devil to satisfy your yet unmet need for revenge.
Hein Era
"You must be Kenjaku," you said, relief washing over your body. It has been three long years since you've decided to find the man, the journey wearing you out, turning you into an empty shell in tattered rags.
"May the traveler who knows my name introduce herself?" He proposed, not making the effort to turn around from his position over the cooking pot. The shabby hut you stood in and his mild demeanor hardly lived up to the reputation of the most vicious man to set foot in Japan in eons.
And so you do, with a deep bow and a mutter of your name, "I've come to an understanding that to kill the man I wish dead might take more than one lifetime," you proclaimed, "and I've been told you're the one to turn to."
Tokyo, 2018
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna felt something strange the moment Itadori Yuji fell face-first into Tokyo Colony No. 1. However, he couldn't pinpoint what exactly it was, like the dull wistfulness of an old perfume. Itadori Yuji sensed it too, but had little time to muse over such things when he was too busy fighting to try to locate Higuruma Hiromi.
"Kogane, show me player Higuruma Hiromi," you order, looking at the information popping up, "his points are gone. Is he the one who changed the rule?" You don't wait for an answer before continuing, "It doesn't matter; he might still know something. Ikebukuro's close now."
You walk through the concrete and metal jungle; these people have built themselves miles upon miles of castles, you think, Sukuna probably enjoys watching them crumble.
When you approach the theater you were told Higuruma resides in, a boy walks out. As soon as he catches a glimpse of you, he halts, standing on guard on the other side of the road.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna has seen many faces, but yours was one that hadn't faded from his memory by the passing of time.
"I don't want to fight!" The boy exclaimed from across the road, but his shoulders were drawn back, fists curled near his pockets.
"I do not wish to fight either!" You shout back, thinking that another battle may wash off the remains of your strength. Besides, what good would it do to fight a young boy? Although only the look of his pink hair made your teeth clench and stomach tighten.
You watch the boy take a seat on the pavement, "Are you hurt?" You inquire, slowly drawing closer across the pavement.
"Just taking a breather!" He shouts, but you decide to approach regardless.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who laughs. He howls like a maniac inside Yuji's head, sending strange vibrations throughout the boy's body.
"Are you alright?" You ask the boy, watching him nod as he gulps the water you handed him. The resemblance is striking, you think, but perhaps I'm just thinking too much of it.
"Thank you," he puts the empty water bottle by his side, "I'm sorry I drank all your water."
"It's nothing." You assure him, "Have you seen Higuruma here? I've a question for him."
"I don't think he's the kind to answer questions," Yuji reflected, getting up from the sidewalk.
"I won't leave him much of a choice." You asserted, watching the boy's doubtful expression, "Do you have any insight you may offer on his technique?"
"Well, I don't think I understand it, really, but.." Yuji starts explaining, watching your brows furrow as you nod along at his descriptions.
You thank him, parting curtly before turning away towards the theater.
"Wait!" Yuji exclaims behind you, "What's the question? Maybe I'll save you the trouble."
You doubt his words, but turn back to face him, "There's a man I'm looking to kill," you disclosed, "trust me, you'd want him dead too,â you chuckle, pausing for a moment, but deciding there's no harm in asking, "Sukuna, do you know where he is?"
Yuji freezes, his heartbeat quickening at the mention of the name, his wide eyes pointed straight at you.
"Didn't think so," you sigh.
ChildhoodFriend!Sukuna who pops out as a mouth carved in Yuji's cheek, causing you to jump back slightly at the bizarre sight while he taunted loudly;
"You're not going to tell her, brat?"
_
tag list: @saoirseirose, @marimeown, @http-dilflvr Thank you guys for the wonderful comments on part one, hope this one doesn't disappoint
#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#jjk x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x y/n#ryoumen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#ryomen x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#sukuna#ryoumen sukuna x you
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Kinktober Day 13 ~ Food Play
Ryomen Sukuna x Fem! Reader
Summary: You have fun with your boyfriend with just a can of whipped cream. (cw: Modern era!)
A/N: God, I thought this one was hot. Hope you all enjoy!
Prev *â§ïœ„ïŸ: Next Kinktober '24 Masterlist
âWoman, you know how I feel about food in the bedroom.â
You roll your eyes, tossing your boyfriend a can of whipped cream. âAnd when have I ever taken your words seriously?â
Sukuna tsked, glancing over at the selection of fruitsâstrawberries, blueberries, cherriesâas well as an assortment of whipped creams and syrupsâall displayed on a small table.
âYou gonna clean up the mess we'd make?â
âAnd why do I have to do it?â
âBecauseâŠâ He struts over to you, towering over your frame at the edge of the bed. âit was your idea.â While shooting him a scowl, he pops the top open, letting it tumble to the floor. âOpen.â
You open your mouth, and he puts some whipped cream on your tongue, enough to have it pool at the corner of your lips when you taste it. Sukuna gets a taste for himself, enjoying the caramel flavor dance across his taste buds. He pushes you onto the bed and follows you, kissing you and tasting the remnants of the cream.
You part momentarily, âDid you see the fruit and other things I bought-â
âI saw.â He gives you another rushed kiss, âI prefer the cream.â
You pull off your shirt, and, Sukuna puts cream on the tops of your breasts. He wastes no time licking them, dragging his tongue across to make sure he doesnât miss a single spot. You toss aside his shirt and snatch the canister from him, creating two dollops on each side of his shoulders.
Sukuna holds your body flush to his as you lick away the cream. The licks turned into kisses, which then turned into sucks and bites. Small hickeys adorning his skin. He removes your bra with one hand, pulling it off you while taking the canister back. You sit back on your elbows as he creates tiny dollops from the top of your breasts and then down to your nipples.
Instead of licking away the cream, Sukuna admires his work of art for a moment.
âI'm a goddamn artist, babe.â
âYou sure you don't want those cherries?â
With a head shake, he bends down and does a long stripe up your mound. It makes you coo, head lazily tilted to the side. As Sukuna does the other breast, he tugs at your shorts, pulling those off after licking your boob clean. He sucks his teeth again when he sees you wearing underwear.
âThere ain't a point in you wearing those anymore.â
âShut up.â You take the canister as he crawls on top of you. You aim the nozzle at his mouth, and he obliges, tasting more of that caramel flavor. Sukuna growls when you start pulling down his pants, cock hard and almost ready. Before you could remove his boxers, you placed some cream on his abdomen. Licking along his happy trail, not paying additional attention to his erection.
âYou keep being a fucking tease and see what happens.â
You gaze upwards to his eyes, not leaving them as you pull down his boxers, dick free against your cheek. It was thick, cum already leaking from it's tip. Your breath is nowhere near enough to give him the satisfaction he needs. What makes it worse is the light kiss you give to his shaft.
âWhat's gonna happen now?â
Sukuna takes the canister, pulling off your underwear. Before he gets to your glistening cunt, a dollop of cream goes right under your navel, above your hair. He groans against your skin while tasting the whipped cream, feeling you shift under his hold.
âAlright, alrightâŠâ You sigh, running your hands along his already messy pink hair. âJust fuck me already.â
If this were any other day, he would ignore your pleas. But he couldn't take much more either. Sukuna pushes into you. A gasp escapes you as you grip his shoulder. He doesn't give you room to adjust when he snaps his hips back and forward. Hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.
Your legs wrapped tight around his waist and his arm around your back to keep you stable. Sukuna pounds into you relentlessly. Your eyes flutter close as heâs fucking away any thought you mightâve had, barely hanging on for dear life. He grips the nape of your neck, tilting your head back as heâs thrusting into you.
âOpen.â
Your mouth gapes and it's filled with whipped cream again. Before you get a chance to eat it, his mouth is on you, stealing all of the cream while he's sucking and nipping at your lips.
âAgain.â You take more cream, moaning under his kisses while lavished with the caramel taste. âFuck yeah, that's my girl.â
Sukuna doesn't even stop with his thrusts. His cock covered in your soaked walls. His mouth a little sticky. Your nails start digging into his shoulders, his pelvis brushing against your clit with each movement. He feels your thighs tightening around him, knowing you're getting close.
One more time, he creates a dollop on your chest. But Sukuna doesn't eat it; he presses his chest along yours, and the coolness from the cream makes him shudder.
âCome for me, babe.â
As you climax, Sukuna doesn't let you go. Holding you tight as your body quivers and shakes against him. Squeezing around his cock so good that he's not too far behind. Groaning in your ear and pumping his cum into you.
Sukuna sits up on his knees, watching your dazed face. He bends down and licks off any excess cream from your chest, cleaning you off as much as he can.
âSoâŠyou like it?â
He grunts before reaching over and grabbing a strawberry. âI don't know. We'd have to do it a few more times before I decide.â
Sukuna feeds you the rest of his strawberry, stealing another kiss. He then picks you up and puts you on top, ready for another round.
Tags:
@fandomfics @freythecrazyfae @maddyperezzzsstuff
@mynamesstevenwithav @eyes-ofhell @maxad99
@howlingco @cherrypieyourface @snails-doodles22
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#kinktober#kinktober 2024#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x black reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x black reader#jjk x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#x reader#x black reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#cookie's kinktober 2024
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This Week in BL - Weird Strange Warmth, Thailand
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
Sept 2024 Week 2
Ongoing Series - Thai
Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 1 of 12 - Oh itâs fucking great. What a fantastic start! Itâs a fun cast too. I adore seeing all of the familiar faces. This is a lot more fun than Kidnap (sorry GMMTV, do better). I mean both shows are serving the same kind of concept but with completely different energy. I love that War is playing phi in this series. I think it suits him much better. In fact. I really like these rolls for this pair. I think theyâre gonna knock it outta the park. I am so happy this is good. I wanted it to be good. And itâs good!
Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 8 of 12 - Oh no! He read the journal. No snooping! Well I guess they needed to get some tension for these 2 from somewhere, otherwise they are too good to each other. Meanwhile, Iâm not sure about the sides in this particular series. I donât hate them. The laundry jealousy moment was pretty well done. But I'm not sold, either.
Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 5 of 10 - I forgot that we were already on the ICONIC kidnapping section of the narrative. I miss Gu Hai's OBEY sweatshirt from the original. (Someday I will own that sweatshirt.) Hero should at least be wearing an OBEY T-shirt. Frankly I miss the harshness of the original too. Johnny Huang was just so massive, August doesn't have the physicality to carry this scene off. Nor does Thailand have the guts to push it into the creepy obsessive territory that made the first version so thrilling to watch.
The thing about the original kidnapping bit was we could feel Gu Hai's vibrating need to possess overriding everything else (including his sense of humor and frustration with himself). Gu Hai KNOWS kidnapping was an over reaction, he KNOWS he is being absurd, he just doesn't care. Because he doesn't just want to fuck Bai Luo Yin he wants to consume him.
We didn't get any of that from Hero. Hero, as a character, just isn't edgy enough to carry off a kidnapping, he's been softened too much in this new Thai form.
And then... An around the back of head not-kiss? Interesting choice. (Checks to see if BoomPeak are hanging out nearby.) Is that because the actor is under age? We in that head space for this whole show? (Pun intended.) Not sure how I feel about any of it.
Itâs a much milder confession this time around, because itâs Thailand, but itâs still warped. So Iâm still here for the weird strange warmth of this damn show. I did laugh a lot during this episode.Â
Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 2 of 12 - Oh I am very much enjoying this.
"Youâre the worst kidnapper I ever ever met" is an apt accusation.
Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 7 of 12 - I kinda enjoyed the little side romance story (wealthy writer intellectual + poor local salt-of-the-earth boy = Love Seaing all over my damn screen). It came outta nowhere but... okay.
I honestly have no idea whatâs going on with this show. But the kisses are nice. And I pretty much like all of the couples. Itâs wild how disjointed it is but simultaneously how pretty. Itâs like Star Hunter got hold of Mameâs budget and aesthetic.Â
I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - Boyfriend era to the max. Production is still ignoring the whole "dreaming the future" POINT OF THIS SHOW.
The Trainee (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - Jane is VERY COOL. Like tay-style cool⊠as it were. I like their dynamic when they're given one to play with. Itâs the rest of this show I donât enjoy.Â
Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 2 of 5 - It cute. Bit odd but cute. I like the language play, of course. Itâs an interesting pair to watch flirt because itâs all language play so that's fun but otherwise, I'm not convinced.
Ongoing Series - Not Thai
The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 7-8 of 12 - This BL doesnât drink from the water bottle to show off its neck. It quietly hands you the water bottle and expects you to understand that is not an act of generosity but of polite distancing. It's about the delicacy of the messaging, and the way themes are conveyed with such nuance.
This story is entirely about the two of them figuring out about each other, and then trying to be what the other person needs based on that information. It means they (and therefore we) are on this journey of discovering affection together. It's brilliant.
I must talk about the physical acting of these two for a second. That scene where theyâre fighting over the book and then fall into the pool. That was one take. Thatâs amazing. These two are really fucking stellar not only at acting but hitting their marks. And let's be clear, that is NOT the same thing. I bet they both have stage training.
Define irony: watching two abandoned kids counsel their respective parents through abandonment issues.
Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 6 of 10 - It is stupid cute and utterly charming. They are total boyfriends. Itâs just that one of them wants to be and one of them assumes they already are. Actually, nevermind boyfriends, theyâre married.
I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 12fin - It made me whimper a lot because theyâre both hurting so much. But in the end it was... fine.
Summation
The compassionate story of a college kid going deaf and the one boy he can hear. I love this manga and was let down by the first adaptation (Silhouette of Your Voice), so I was expecting a lot from this BL. I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, and the were, but I didnât expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. The acting is great too. But the story? It was just fine. They spent far too much time on the build to a relationship, then wallowed in their separation and a problematic girl character, when they should have been showcasing Taichi's character arc and his capacity for connection. Perhaps Japan should pass this one off to Thailand, It's a soft story centering on "food as love" so they might do better with it. I am, yet again, disappointed. 8/10Â but I want to give it a 7/10
First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 9-10 of 12 - Itâs fine. itâs cute. I enjoyed getting some backstory. More of the sides, please.
Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 7 - Honestly, why donât they just call this entire series The Cheating Diaries and have done with it? Iâm only watching it because thereâs basically nothing else from Korea right now. But Iâm generally mad about it. Including the fact that everybody is so pretty and the acting is so good in the series, but the stories are so terrible.
It's airing but...
The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.
Happy of the End (Japan Tues Gaga) - A boy is disowned for being gay, dumped by his boyfriend, and ends up in a dysfunctional co-dependant relationship with his would-be kidnapper. We were due for another messy JBL and it's exactly as expected. I do not like it at all. And ya know what? There is plenty airing. DNFÂ
In case you missed it
The Time of Fever (Korea iQIYI & Viki) 6 eps - Side couple from Unintentional Love Story, HoTae & DongHee, return for a spin off backstory show.
It started out fantastic. And it was a relief to have a good Korean BL finally back on my screen, even a high angst one. But I did spend a lot of time trying trying to figure out whether theyâre going to rehash or reboot from the previous series. Are we in Between Us territory or Don't Say No or (heaven forbid) To My Star 2?
None of the above, it turns out.
This was a pure prequel about lost first love. As such, it has no real finale beyond what we got in ULS. Which, for this pair, wasn't satisfying. Putting my disappointment over this aspect aside, it is enjoyable on the strength of the characters, actors, and chemistry (if not story). Yes I said chemistry, the kissing is fantastic, sometimes KBL can do that. This one featured the "teach me to kiss trope"!!!! Plus language play. Both favorites of mine. It is all angst, ache, repression, and miles of subtext. It did fudge the ending by not skipping forward and over the events in ULS to depict what happened next (what, no year long time jump when we actually need it, Korea?) It's a worthy companion piece, but should be watched BEFORE ULS for maximum satisfaction, and even then you're going to be left feeling like HoTae & DongHee's relationship was never adequately discussed or depicted in order to achieve resolution.
The little cameo of my baby in ep 5 was much appreciated. But the motorcycle shouldâve been set up a little bit more. Of course I wanted it to be about them getting together after the events in the first series. But this was all backstory from start to finish. And while it was good backstory, it wasnât ultimately satisfying for these characters. Still itâs a good little series. 8/10Â
Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging. It's just taking me some time. This isn't really a bingable show, not for me anyway. It's A LOT to take all at once. No new one this week.
4 Minutes (Gaga) Ended - Spies reported in to say the ending was not-exactly-unhappy and mostly lackluster. I'm torn over whether to watch. My natural disinclination to binge, meets my dissatisfaction with wishy-washy, is going up against my love for fabulous high heat and pretty pretty men.
Mitsuya-sensei no keimakutekina ezuke finished and itâs reported to be solid. Age gap treated with respect. I'm curious, so I'll check it out. Not doing very well on binging and catching up but it's on the docket...
Next Week Looks Like This:
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
Still Coming Sept 2024:
9/15 Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) 15 eps - Remake of the original. I'm scared too.
9/15 Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - Assistant to a player boss who is in love with that boss decides to quit to save himself. The boss then makes a move. (A gay What's up with Secretary Kim?)
9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 10 eps - Lawyer and a con artist meet at a bar, pair up, fall in love.
9/28 Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YouTube) ?? eps - oh I don't know just Ba Vinh doing his thing with pretty boys again.
THIS WEEKâS BEST MOMENTS
Love a teach me to kiss, teach me to fuck, whatever moment. (I Saw You In My Dreams sides)
Not gonna lie. I laughed. Addicted.
(Last week)
Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.
The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs
Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.
#this week in BL#BL updates#The Time of Fever review#Jack & Joker#Jack and Joker#Addicted Heroin#The Traineee the series#Monster Next Door#Sugar Dog Life#Seoul Blues#I Saw You in My Dream#I Hear the Sunspot review#Hidamari ga Kikoeru#The On1y One#First Note of Love#Live in Love#Kidnap the series#upcoming BL#BL news#BL reviews#BL gossip#Thai BL#Japanese BL#live action yaoi#Koren BL#BL starting soon#BL coming soon#new BL
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I am in ur walls
I have come to raise the idea of, and hear me out, Max x PR officer reader. Iâm just gonna yap now, hear me out
Like can you imagine Max going through his hoe phase and reader having to clean up his image, and sheâs just fondly like UGH MAX. Part of her is like blehhhhh because more work, but the bigger part of her is like âšjealousâš
And then at some point she makes an offhand comment like if you want to be a whore, can you at LEAST not make more work for me????
Cue Max and her starting to be a thing, and him trying to rile her up enough to get her to be their own PR issue just for shits and giggles and he gets quite risque and horny and her resistance to it just turns him on even more until heâs saying and doing the filthiest shit in the middle of the paddock just to get her to crackââ
Also can you imagine how hilarious it would be if they get caught and GP is like NOT YOU TOO READER LIKE DOES HE HAVE A MAGIC DICK OR SMTHââ
WELCOME TO MY WALLS!!! This idea HAS ME ahahahah see I was always a crackfic writer at age 12 on wattpad, its time to remerge into the light with this prompt
Like you know how max is so millennial coded. And sheâs actually the same age as him but he thinks sheâs older cause sheâs always looking so stressed. And she like um thatâs cause youâre a fuckin manwhore max?!? Have you thought about celibacy for a hot second? And as they become better friends she demands he hand over his card so she can invest in some good skincare
(max also suggests maybe she needs to get dicked down good, heâs happy to provide that if she wants or? đ€đ€)
But anyways sheâs pumping out Gen z memes left right and centre to distract the masses from his slut era and heâs always like wdym âi have zero rizz and am a bitchless cat dadâ?? I know memes?? Remember hawk thua-
ALSO WHENEVER HE REALLY TRIES TO RILE HER UP ON THE PADDOCK AND SHE CANT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT SHE MAKES HIM DO THE MOST ANNOYING SOCIAL MEDIA CHALLENGES TO GET BACK AT HIM like imagine her making him do a kiss marry kill with the drivers and heâs like đđ and everyoneâs like babes come here we got max Verstappen saying heâd kiss Alonso, marry charles and kill George before GTA 2024
ALSO Iâm jumping the gun but after he âšseduces her âš thereâs so much scope for the classic shenanigans. Accidentally wearing shirts inside out. Accidentally wearing each others Redbull shirt and she could get away with oversized style but everyoneâs like âmax why tf are u wearing a crop topâ. (GP knows. He knows and he canât look either of you in the eye. Everyone has started asking why he loudly announces himself and waits 10 seconds before walking around the corners of the Redbull garage and heâs likeâŠno reason. But his face is one of a man who has seen many, many things)
Anyway you have ban any contact of sexual nature after that incident that you have dubbed CropTopGate. But obviosuly that just makes max even more feral cause we know how competitive he is đŒ
ALSO heâs notorious for going through personal managers as well but once you two start getting tension but youâre still all like ânooo 6 foot driver millionaires arenât my type okayyyy đ
ââïžđ
ââïžâ
So he demands that you be promoted to his personal events manager as well. To which you are adamantly like NO knowing what this means for your poor self control but Christian Horner is like yes maxie boo đ„° so now you also accompany max to all his lil modelling gigs, looking anywhere but at him while he stands shirtless next to you with a cocky grin.
OR LIKE IMAGINE HE AND A MODEL ARE DOING AN ADVERTISEMENT TOGETHER LIKE ONE OF THOSE SEXY PERFUME ONES. AND DURING A BREAK THE PHOTOGRAPHER NOTICES YOU AND MAX TALKING TOGETHER
and heâs like i donât care who you are get over here NOW this sexual chemistry is insane so you end up in a very compromising pose up against max verstappen, F1 driver, cat dad, and certified slut while heâs whispering dirty things in your ear
(He catches on quick that you really likes it when he speaks Dutch, good thing you canât understand it cause heâs just reciting his grocery list and enjoying watching you blush and squeeze your legs together)
very cute idea hehe thank you for messaging!! I LIVE for some sexual tension, reader is a better woman than me for trying to resist the advances of max đźâđšđźâđš
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to do the right thing l part iii
Post Outbreak!Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
series masterlist
summary: You go into labor earlier than expected in the QZ; Joel and Tess help you deliver the baby; after giving birth, you and Joel follow through with a heartbreaking decision.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA. ((TW)) PREGNANCY, mentions and references to adoption. mentions of dead bodies, child death (not what you think), descriptions of childbirth. angst. soft, protective Joel.
word count: 7.9k
a/n: Please do not hate me. That is all. (:
June, 2020
 Disposing of the infected was a shity job.
But then again, most of the civilian jobs in the Boston QZ were pretty fucking shitty.
Still. This particular one had to be the absolute shittiest of the shitty.
Having to haul dozens upon dozens of dead bodies, the accidental inhale of soot and smoke even through your makeshift mask, not to mention, the nauseating smell of burning human fleshâyouâd hated getting assigned to this work detail before, but now that you were only just a few weeks shy of being nine months pregnant, it felt like actual fucking hell on earth. And, to make matters even worse, Joel had been asked by one of the officials to head over to a different site and work a different job at the very last minute. He wasnât by your side to lend you a hand like he usually did. Before being forced by authorities to leave the site, Joel instructed you to find a familiar face and do whatever you could do to get someone to help you when you needed it.
Luckily, on the other side of the open fire pit, youâd spotted Kevin. A younger man in his early twenties, you knew Kevin was something of an avid pill popper and one of Joelâs secret regulars. In exchange for a couple of oxycodone pills that you produced from the pockets of Joelâs jacket you were wearing, he had agreed to help you haul the heavier bodies and toss them in the fire pit.
âYou know, you used to be real strong,â Kevin mused out loud as he took the shoulders of a heftier male body. Through a labored grunt, he continued, âYou never needed anybody's help.â
You narrowed your eyes at him as you took the lower half of the body into your arms, taking subtle care not to strain yourself to the point of hurting yourselfâor the baby. âShut up and move, Kevin.â
âIâm just saying.â
âSeriously, Kevin,â You managed to say to him through gritted teeth as you helped him carry the body. âIâll throw in another fucking pill if you just shut the fuck up, how about that?â
âNever used to be so cranky, either. Jesus, Millerâs really rubbing off on you, isnât he?â
Ignoring him, you inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it as you two lifted the body and flung it into the pit. As you turned back towards the canopied pickup truck for the next one, your eyes fell on the tiniest little body that you had ever seen and you simply froze, a chill running up the length of your spine.
While it wasnât the first time that youâd ever had to dump the body of an infected child, this one had to be the smallestâthe youngest. Though his head had been covered with a brown, burlap sack just like the rest of the bodies, anyone with two fucking eyes and half of one brain cell could guess that he was, at most, around the age of a toddler.
âJesus,â You whispered, noticing the dirty, bloodied white bandage around his teeny little arm. Thatâs where heâd been infected.
Kevinâs voice came from behind you. âOh come on, this canât be your first time seeing a kid, right?â
Your mouth had gone as dry as sandpaper. âIâIâve never seen one this young,â You told him, feeling your heart sink into your stomach. âHe couldnât have been older than three or something.â Unable to fathom what had to come next, you turned to Kevin and shook your head. âIâll need you to do this one. I just canât.â
âSure thing, sweet cheeks.â He raised an eyebrow and looked around before lowering his voice. âJust as long as you go back home tonight and let that guarddog boyfriend of yours know how much I helped you out, you know, since he wasnât around to do it himself.â He paused, his beady, dark little eyes twinkling in sheer delight. âMaybe a two for the price of one discount during our next business transaction would be an appropriate way for him to show me some gratitude?â
If Joel could see the smirk on Kevinâs face, heâd knock it right off with his fist.
âGreedy motherfucker, arenât you?â You muttered under your breath, before finally nodding your head in agreement. âFine. Iâll make sure Joel hooks it up on your next deal.â Fat chance of that happening.
Satisfied, Kevin grinned and pushed past you, picking up the childâs body.
Unable to bring yourself to watch him toss it into the roaring flames, you hurriedly walked around to the side of the pickup truck, yanking down the red bandana you used as a mask down from over your nose and mouth. Placing a hand on the side of the truck, you hunched over and closed your eyes for a brief second. âJesus Christ,â You groaned in a whisper to yourself. âI think Iâm going to be fucking sick.â
You half expected to toss your afternoon crackers right there onto the pavement in front of you. However, instead, just a split second later, you felt a sudden cramp in the middle of your pelvisâsubtle, but still enough to make you wince. It was immediately followed by a feeling of intense pressure between your legs. Before your mind could even wrap itself around what was happening, there was a gush between your thighs, and warm liquid started trickling down the sides of your legs.
Shit.
Terrified, you glanced down.
Though they were dirty, you could distinctly see the wet patches on your faded, dark blue jeans. âNo, no, no. This canât be happening. Itâs too fucking earlyââ
âHey! What the hell are you doing over here? Who the fuck said you could stop and take a break?â One of the FEDRA officials who had been assigned to stand guard at the work site came up behind you, his weapon gripped tightly in his hands. When you whirled around to face him, his eyes fell and instantly noticed your soaked jeans. A look of disgust crossed his face. âJesus. Did you just fucking piss yourself?â
âNoââ You stopped yourself, realizing this could be your ticket out of there. âYeah,â You replied, nodding your head, causing him to let out a repulsed noise. âSorry. I just saw a little kid, must have made meââ
He held up one of his hands, stopping you. âSave it. I donât give two shits,â he told you with a shake of his head. âGet your ass home right now and change your clothes, then come back. Make it quick. Thereâs still a lot of work to be done around here. Understood?â
You nodded again. The muscles in your pelvic area tightened and the feeling drew the tiniest of sharp breaths from youâyour contractions were starting. âYeah,â You managed to say to the official, keeping a straight face. âIâll be back as fast as I can.â
He dismissively waved you away with his weapon and then stalked off back over to his post.
Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turned on your heel and started to make your way back to the apartment as quickly as possible.
Although the building was about a mile and a half up the road, it felt like you were trekking your way across the fucking country. You felt two more contractions along the way, and while their intensity was still pretty low in such an early stage of your labor, they still hurt like hell. They started around your lower back and gradually moved around to the front of your pelvis. You tried to push past the discomfort in order to get home as quick as possible, but every now and again, you found yourself having to stop in the middle of the sidewalk for just a brief second or two, only long enough to recollect and remind yourself that you needed to get a goddamn grip before someone noticed your strange behavior. Once the building finally came into your view, all you could do was silently pray that by some fucking miracle, Joel would be up there in that apartment, home from work detail.
Your prayer went unanswered.
When you opened the door to your quarters and walked inside, youâd found Tess home by herself. She was sitting at the table, sipping on a glass of whiskey and mindlessly flipping through a decades old newspaper.
âTess,â You said her name, causing her to look up. âWhereâs Joel?â
She shrugged. âI donât know.â
âItâs fucking happening.â
Tess stared at you, her eyes widening slightly. âWait, what?â
âThe babyâs coming,â You informed her, pointing down to your damp jeans. Though you were panicking on the inside, you tried your best to remain as calm as humanly possible. âWhere the fuck is Joel?â
Tess tossed aside her newspaper and stood up from the table. âI told you, I donât know. I know he was reassigned but Iâm not sure whereâhe sure as hell wasnât with me.â She walked over to you, taking you by the elbow. She pulled you over towards the couch and helped you sit down. âI thought you said it would be at least a few more weeks before the baby came.â
You couldnât help but shoot her an annoyed look. âWell, heâs coming now, Tess. And thereâs nothing I can do to stop it.â
âHow long ago did it start?â
âAbout half an hour ago, maybe. I was at the pits and my water broke after I sawââ You trailed off, deciding the details of what you had seen back at the work site werenât necessary to disclose to her. âIâve had a couple of contractions, but theyâre pretty far apart.â
âIt could be several hours before the baby comes, but thereâs still no fucking way that weâll be able to get you over to Bill and Frankâs in time.â Tess chewed anxiously on her bottom lip as she wracked her brain for any other possible optionsâit took her mere seconds to realize that there werenât any other options. âYouâre going to have to give birth here.â
âFantastic,â You deadpanned, leaning back into the couch.
âOkay, hereâs the deal. You stay put and Iâm going to go out and find Joel. I know thereâs a couple of places where he might have been assigned and if Iâm right, I can be back with him quickly.â Tess pulled off her watch from her wrist. It was old and cracked, but otherwise, it still worked fine. âI need you to time your contractions. Try and be as accurate as possible.â She then reached into the back pocket of her jeans, producing a red handkerchief. She handed it to you along with the watch. âListen. I know itâs going to hurt like hell, but you need to be as quiet as possible. Last thing we need is for someone to hear you and come running in here, especially while Iâm gone. If you need to, you bite down on this to keep quiet, alright?â
You swallowed harshly, taking both of the items with nearly trembling fingers. âAlright.â
âDonât worry. Iâm going to find Joel and weâll be back,â she promised you. âYou stay right here, okay?â
âBecause Iâm such a fucking flight risk right now?â
âEven during labor, youâre still a fucking smartass, huh?â Tess rolled her eyes and reached for her jacket.Â
You watched her as she readied herself to take off. âTess?â
âYeah?â
âHurry. Please.â
âFuck,â You hissed, both of your hands planted on your lower back as you paced back and forth in the kitchen, trying your best to breathe your way through another contraction.
 It had been over an hour and a half and Tess still hadnât returned with Joel.
Your labor was progressing a lot quicker than youâd anticipated and while it could still be at least a couple more hours before the baby was born, you were still terrified at the mere thought of having to deliver him alone. You needed Joelâyou didnât want to have to do this without him.
âJesus, fuck,â You cursed through clenched teeth. The waves of pain that were coming at you were almost enough to physically knock you off of your feet and right onto your ass. Tess had been smart to give you her handkerchief. During one particularly painful contraction, youâd shoved it into your mouth, muffling your cries of agony.
Another hour had passed and you were genuinely starting to believe that you were indeed going to have to give birth to the baby all alone in that apartment. âWhere the fuck are you guys?â You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps something had happened to themâJoel and Tess had spent ample amounts of time in FEDRA lockup for the stunts that they pulled and it wouldnât surprise you if they had gone and done something stupid, putting themselves behind bars for the night.
In an attempt to keep your mind from continuously wandering to worst case scenarios, you walked over to the kitchen sink and quickly filled up a large, chipped porcelain bowl with water. You rummaged around for the cleanest washcloth that you could find and then picked up the bowl in your hands, taking care not to spill as you hastily made your way around the single wall that divided the kitchen from the bedroom. You placed the bowl of water on top of the old, cherrywood dresser that separated yours and Joelâs bed from Tessâs bed and immediately started peeling off your dirty clothes. Wanting to hurry before another contraction came along, you dipped the cloth into the water and started running it all over your body, wiping away any soot and dirt that youâd brought home from the work site.
After you had finished cleaning yourself off as best as you possibly could under the circumstances, you searched through the drawers and grabbed one of Joelâs cleaner t-shirts, tugging it over your head. Even with the size of your swollen midsection, his shirt still fit you loosely enough, the hem of it falling to the top of your thighs. Youâd finished just in timeâanother contraction starting coming on and you dropped down onto the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress as you hunched over in a world of hurt. âFuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!â
As it subsided, the sound of the front door opening caused your head to snap up and your heart to skip a beat. Had you been too loud? Or perhaps a neighbor had walked by and heard you?
âBaby?â Joelâs deep voice filled the small apartment. When he appeared around the wall and saw you, a look of utter relief crossed his face and he rushed over to you, Tess following behind him. He crouched down in front of you, both of his hands flying up to the sides of your face. âMâsorry darlinâ, I got here as fast I couldââ
Though you could have nearly cried from happiness that he was right there in front of you, you found yourself snapping at him, âWhat took you so fucking long? Itâs been fucking hours!â
Tess jumped to Joelâs defense. âIâm sorry, itâs on me! Itâs my fault. It took me forever just to fucking find his ass and then we had to find a way to sneak him away from the work site without anyone noticing,â she explained, holding her hands up. âNot to mention, he was on the other end of the fucking QZ. We got here as fast as we couldâhow far apart are they coming?â
You winced. The truth was, youâd been so busy trying to get through the contractions that you hadnât been timing them at all. âAbout that.â
âAre you fucking kidding me? I gave you one fucking jobââ
âLook, theyâre still decently far apart by a few minutes.â You placed a hand on your stomach, suddenly admitting, âBut I do feel the urge to push already.â
Joelâs hands slowly dropped from your face and he glanced over his shoulder and up at Tess, looking confused. âThink itâs time?â
She shook her head. âI know itâs going to feel like you need to push as you get closer, but donât,â she warned you, firmly. âNot yet. They need to come closer together, about a minute to thirty seconds apart. If you start to push too early, you could hurt the baby. Or tear yourself apart.â Tess took off her jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair. âJoel, keep her as comfortable as you can. Iâm going to start gathering some supplies. She may not be ready to push now, but Iâm thinking within the hour, itâll be time.â
âWithin the hour?â You nearly squeaked.
Joel turned back to you and cupped your face again. The familiarity of his rough, calloused hands on your skin brought some calmness, not enough to completely take your fears away, but just enough that you were able to stay somewhat level headed, even through every single emotion that you were feeling. âBaby, I know you're scared,â he said, his thumb grazing against your cheek. âBut I promise you, everythinâ is gonna be just fine, alright? Look at me, right here, look at me,â he urged as he held your face firmly in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. âYouâre gonna be fine. I wonât let anythinâ happen to you.â
âJoel, itâs childbirth,â You reminded him, smiling wearily. âDonât make a promise you donât know if you can actually keep.â
Though he knew deep down inside that you had a point, he repeated himself. âI wonât let anythinâ happen to you. Okay?â
You offered him a small, meek nod. âOkay.â
Joel lifted himself, pressing his lips gently to yours. He pulled away, murmuring against your lips, âThatâs my girl.â
The hour that followed had been nothing short of horrificâthe pain had become almost unbearable by this point. There wasnât a single inch of your entire body that wasnât drenched, soaked in perspiration. Your hair was an absolute mess, plastered to your forehead and to the sides of your face. Tess sat on her bed, waiting on standby for when it was time to deliver. Meanwhile, Joel, could only hold your hand in his and watch helplessly as you tried not to cry out too loudly.
âJoel,â You nearly pleaded his name, as if pleading for him to take his gun and put you out of your misery.
âI know, baby, I know,â he murmured soothingly, squeezing your hand in both of his. âI know it hurts.â
âWhat if I canât do this?â
âSorry, sweet darlinâ but you donât have much of a choice,â he reminded you. He looked and sounded so fucking tired, so fucking exhaustedâand he was. He was exhausted from having to sit there and witness you hurt while there wasnât a goddamn thing he could do about it.
Once the contractions started coming in at less than a minute apart, Tess checked you. âI can feel the head. Itâs time to start pushing,â she announced. Rolling up the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows, she started giving you instructions. âYouâre going to bear all the way down into your bottom as hard as you can. Weâll do ten second counts with short, quick rests in between each push until he comes out. Alright?â
You just about panicked. âJoelââ
âMâright here,â he quickly assured you. âNot goinâ anywhere.â
During the process, Joel had decided to sit behind you, his long legs on either side of you as he held you up at just a couple degrees shy of a ninety degree angle. Tess kneeled on the mattress between your legs, holding your knees apart as she counted through each push out loud for you.
You sank your front teeth hard into your bottom lip, the coppery taste of blood filling your mouth as you tried your hardest from screaming out.
âOne, two, three, fourââ Tess counted the numbers aloud until she reached the number ten. She watched you as you released a breath, and tapped your knee gently. âCome on, weâre almost there. Heâs right there, youâre so fucking close. The harder you push, the quicker this will all be over. So give me one more big, strong push, alright?â
Joel squeezed your shoulders, his lips at your ear as he whispered to you over and over again, âCâmon baby, weâre almost there. Itâs almost over.â
You were completely spent, exhausted both physically and mentally beyond what mere words could even explain. Close or not, you simply didnât have it in you to keep going.
âIâm sorry, I canât,â You moaned, shaking your head as you slumped back against his chest, your head falling into his shoulder. Your body felt like it was just moments away from giving out on you. âI canât do it, Joel. I just canât fucking do thisââ
âYou can and you fucking will,â Tess all but snapped at you, forcing your knees further apart. âCome on, all I need is one more push. Just one fucking more.â
âButââ
âBaby, please,â Joel begged into your neck. âYou have to do this.â
You whimpered. They were rightâyou didnât have a choice.
âOkay. One more.â You gave a small, weak nod of your head.
Joel helped you sit back up into the previous position, using his body to help support yours. He kissed the back of your head, his hands on your shoulders again. âGood girl,â he praised, bracing himself to help you through the tail end of the delivery.
âAlright, letâs do this.â Tess positioned herself, her hands ready to receive the baby once he was born. âOn the count of three. One, two, threeâand push. Come on, thatâs it. Come on.â Squeezing your eyes shut, you followed her encouraging words, bearing down as hard as you could muster while Joel counted you through that last strenuous push. âBabyâs out!â Tess nearly cried, and you quickly opened your eyes to see her holding the baby in her arms.Â
âIs he okay?â You panted, your chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. Only mere seconds had passed, but already you found yourself in a state of anxiety over the fact that the baby hadnât made a single sound yet. âHe hasnât criedâwhy hasnât he cried?â
âShe,â Tess corrected you, her eyes fixed on the newborn as she worked to clean her off with a damp washcloth. She rubbed her chest in quick, firm circles in an attempt to get her to take her first breath.
Your heart skipped a beatâyouâd had a girl?
Behind you, Joel inhaled sharply, his body stiffening.
You watched in concern, your lips parted slightly at the sight before you. Not having the proper tools to clear the childâs airway, Tess tried everything and anything that she could think of to help the baby breathe. As the seconds turned into a minute, and then into two, your heart had all but climbed its way up your throatânever had you heard a silence so deafening.
âTess,â Joel said her name, his tone dangerously low.
âFuck Joel, Iâm trying here!â Tess snapped at him. She let out a small, frustrated sigh and then turned the baby over onto her forearm. She started patting the infantâs back with her opposite hand. âCome on, sweetheart. Come on, youâre alright. Please breathe. Pleaseââ
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the baby sputtered and let out a wet cough before a small, quick cry filled the entire apartment.Â
âFuck,â You breathed out in complete and utter relief. You sagged back against Joel, whoâd also released the breath heâd been holding.
âShh,â Tess soothed her, flipping the baby back over and bouncing her in her arms in an attempt to quiet her. Â
Joel carefully climbed out from behind you, helping you to lean back, up against the wall. âYou alright?â
âBetter now that I know sheâs okay.â
âSheâs small, definitely at least a couple of weeks premature, but she looks healthy,â Tess observed. She single handedly clamped the cord, cutting it with a pair of sharp shears before she finished cleaning her off. She reached for the flannel throw blanket next to her, however upon picking it up, she had realized it wasnât a blanket at all. It was Joelâs flannel jacket, the very same one that youâd worn for most of your pregnancy. But it had been washed the day before and it would do for the time being. Tess wrapped the baby in the jacket before easing her into your arms. Knowing that youâd never held a baby before, Tess reached out and maneuvered your arms, making sure that you were holding her properly, supporting her head and neck. âThatâs it. There you go.â
Your heart swelled to twice its normal size inside of your chest and an inexplicable warmth radiated throughout every fiber of your being the moment you laid your eyes on her sweet, tiny little face. âHi, there,â You cooed gently to her. âWelcome to the shitshow.â
Tess chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. âSon of a bitch. We fucking did it.â
âWhat the hell do you mean we?â You rolled your eyes in a joking manner. The truth of the matter was that you would forever be in her debt for all that she had done to help you, not just through childbirthâthrough everything.Â
You then glanced over at Joel, who stood silently behind her, hands planted on his hips.
He said nothing, but his dark brown eyes were glued to the newborn.
Tess cleared her throat lightly, breaking the momentary silence that had suddenly fallen over the three of you. âIâll give you a minute to take a breather while I go clean myself up. Iâll be back to show you how to feed her.â
She excused herself, heading off towards the kitchen.
Joel shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. âYouâuh, you sure youâre alright?â
âMhm,â You replied with a nod, unable to contain the small smile that crossed your lips as you drank in the sight of the beautiful baby girl in your arms. She had been born with a head full of dark hairâinstantly, she reminded you of Joel. âSheâs so little.â
Joel said nothing.
Looking up, you noticed the way his eyes took her inâthe same way yours did.Â
Part of you almost wanted to ask him if he wanted to hold her.
But you knew better.
âWeâll radio Bill and Frank tomorrow in the morning to let them know sheâs here ,â Tess said, coming back into the room. She used a damp cloth to wipe away the blood and other fluids from her forearms. âAs soon as youâre able to move, youâll have to get her over to them.â
Your face fell slightly. âWait, how soon are we talking?â
âThinking maybe in a couple daysâsoon as you can walk.â
Your heart sank deeply into your chest.
Just a couple of days?Â
Thatâs all you would get with her?
Noticing the crestfallen expression on your face, Joel nodded. âTess is right,â he agreed. âWe canât hide a cryinâ baby in this apartment for too long without someone catchinâ on. The sooner we get her over to Bill and Frankâs, the better.â
You somehow managed to swallow the lump of emotion that had risen in your throat as you looked back down at her tiny faceâyour daughterâs tiny face.
âThink of a name for her yet?â Tess asked you, tossing her dirty cloth aside.
Joel quickly stepped in and answered for you. âBest you donât.â
âWhat?â You stared at him in disbelief. Although neither of you had discussed it, youâd thought that at the very least Joel would allow you to name your childâhis child.
âThe less attached you are to her, the better.â His tone was short, almost curt. âLess harder itâll be.â
Even Tess was taken by surprise. âJoel, come on. Are you fucking seriâ?â
He held up a hand to stop her. Whirling around on the hell of his boot, Joel said over his shoulder as he left the room, âIâll be outside. Need some air.â
Your lips pressed together in a thin, tight line. âI guess heâs right.â
The mattress squeaked, shifting slightly as Tess took a seat right next to you on the bed. âYou know itâs going to hurt him too,â she told you, quietly. âHeâll never admit it. But when the time comes, itâll hurt him too.â
âI know,â You whispered, grazing the babyâs cheek lightly with the tip of your index finger.
âJoel loves you, you know.â
Tessâs words caught you by surprise. âTessâdonât. You donât need to do this.â
She laughed in spite of herself. âYou know, I never thought that man could be capable of loving anyone else ever again, not in this life. Hell, I tried for fucking years just to get him to feel a fraction of what I felt for him and nothing.â Her voice became thick with the emotions that sheâd undoubtedly been suppressing for the last few years. âI donât know what is about you, what drew him to you. But he does love you. More than fucking anything.â
âHeâll probably never admit that either.â
Tess smiled sadly. âI know.â
The five hour trip on foot from the Boston QZ to Lincoln was one that you had gotten used to over the last couple of years, but this trip had been something of a struggle for you, to say the very least.
Between being only a couple of days postpartum, having to make frequent stops to feed the baby, and having her strapped tightly to your chest in a makeshift baby carrierâwhich in reality was actually just a bedsheet that wrapped around your upper bodyâyou felt quite worn out by the time you and Joel finally made it to Bill and Frankâs.
âCome in, come in,â Frank placed a hand gently on your back as he ushered you inside of the house. âHow are you doing? Are you okay?â He tossed a little glare over his shoulder at Joel. âShame on you for making her walk three days after giving birth! Surely you could have waited at least a few more days before making the trip?â
Joel let out a small, impatient huff and rolled his eyes in response.
âWe didnât wanna risk being caught with her,â You quickly explained as he led you both into the living room. âOur walls are paper thin and she cries real loud. We didnât wanna risk having the neighbors reporting us to FEDRA.â
âSheâs a crier?â Bill, who kept his distance, scoffed. âGreat.â
âOh, stop it, Bill. Iâm sure sheâll be a very good baby,â Frank waved his hand dismissively at him.Â
âCan you guys help me unwrap?â You asked, lightly tugging at the sheet. âThis thing is so uncomfortable.â
Both Joel and Frank helped untie and remove it from around your body.
âOh my word.â Frankâs hand flew to his mouth and tears instantly welled in his eyes as soon as saw her. âI never thought Iâd seeââ He trailed off, but you knew what he meant. He never thought heâd see another child ever again, much less a newborn baby. Frank knew better than to overstep or to push you too quickly, and despite his immediate urge to ask you if he could hold her already, he simply settled for lightly touching his fingertips to her tufts of soft, dark hair. âOh, sheâs so beautiful! Isnât she beautiful, Bill?â
âLooks like an ordinary baby to me,â he grumbled, though as he eyed the child, there was a strange little glint in his eye. Bill, like Frank, also never thought that heâd ever see something like her again.
Frank sniffed, dabbing his tears away with the back of his hand. âOh! I have some onesies from the boutique, let me grab one for you,â he stated, realizing that the baby was naked, with the exception of the improvised diaper you had her in. âSheâs kind of small, even for a newborn. Do you think she came early?â He asked over his shoulder as he walked over to the other side of the room towards a pile of cardboard boxes. âI know itâs hard to tell what week you reached gestation.â
âWe think so,â You said, carefully taking a seat on the couch. âSheâs small, but sheâs healthy. She eats well, she mostly sleeps through the night unless she wakes up hungry or needing to be changed.â
âHere.â Frank walked back over to you and handed you a cream colored onesie printed with yellow sunflowers. He also handed you a matching cloth diaper. âTheyâre preemie size, but I have a box of newborn sizes too if theyâre too snug on her. You let me know what you think is best, alright?â
It didnât take you very long to realize that Frank was allowing you just a taste of what it was like to properly and normally care for your baby, just like any mother would in a pre-outbreak world.Â
Part of you wished that he wouldnât bother, but you still appreciated his kindness nonetheless.
Frank laid a soft, pink blanket on the couch for you to lay her on.
As you changed her, you felt Joel watching almost intently.
Since sheâd been born, he still hadnât held her. You didnât take offense to it, nor did it hurt your feelings that he refused to touch her, because you knew how he was feelingâwhat he was feeling. You would often catch him stealing long, lingering glances at her whenever heâd think you werenât paying attention. Deep down in your heart, you knew he ached to interact with her, that he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and give into his paternal instincts. But he was simply trying to make this process as painless for himself as possible. Joel didnât want to risk developing any kind of attachment to her.Â
âDoes she have a name?â Frank asked, holding his hands behind his back as he watched you button up the onesie. At this point, he was itching to hold her for the first time, but he wanted to respect what little time you had left to interact with her.
Sure, you would be able to see her every now and again, but Joel was adamant of keeping visits to a minimum.
âShe doesnât,â You replied in a soft voice. âWe didnât name her.â
Joel, who had taken a seat in the rocking chair next to the couch, raked a hand through his hair as Frank shot him glare, as if he knew whose idea it had been to not give her a name. âSâonly right for you two to choose a name. We ainât got no business givinâ her a name.â
âHeâs right,â You said, before Frank could protest. âItâs best we leave that to you and Bill.â
Frank touched your shoulder. The sympathy in his eyes nearly made you burst into tears on the spot. Wanting to allow for a brief change of subject, he offered, âHow about we all have a bite to eat? Hmm? Surely you must be starving after that long walk.â
You forced a small smile. Food was the last thing on your mind. âThat would be nice,â you fibbed.Â
For the rest of the afternoon, you refused to put the baby down.
Your arms ached from holding her for so longâbut you couldnât care less. It was one ache that you would happily deal with for the rest of your natural born life if it meant never having to let her go.
Frank had been completely understanding of your desire to keep her with you for as long as you possibly could. Being the incredibly sweet, kind soul that he was, he showed you nothing but patience and didnât question you, nor did he push you or grill you on whether or not you had changed your mind about leaving her in their care. Bill, being Bill, had muttered a few, passive aggressive incoherencies towards you under his breath over lunchâsomething about how for someone who claimed they wouldnât have a problem giving up their baby, you sure as hell seemed to have a hard time letting her out of your grasp.
However, once the late afternoon finally rolled around, you knew that the time for you to say goodbye was on the horizon. As much as you fucking wished you could, there was no changing your mind, not if you wanted your daughter to live safely, happily.
âBill? Frank? Do you think we can have a minute with her, just the two of us?â You asked them. You had all moved back into the living room after lunch. Knowing time was running out, you hoped that you and Joel could have one last moment alone with her before it was time to leave.
âOf course.â Frank nodded and tugged on Billâs arm. âWeâll be out in the front yardâthe plants need some watering.â
You shot him a tiny, grateful smile. As they disappeared, you leaned back into the couch and made yourself comfortable with the baby.
Joel, who sat over in the rocking chair as he had earlier, pursed his lips. âDonât make this harder than it needs to be,â he said, shaking his head at you. âWe really should just hand her over and go home.â
âItâs going to be hard no matter what, Joel. May as well enjoy her for a while longer.â You glanced down at her just as she started fussing herself awake. She looked up at you with her dark eyes. âHello, sweet girl,â You greeted her in a soothing voice as she cooed.Â
Joel watched with a heaviness in his heart as you kissed the infantâs cheek delicately. How he wished you would just fucking listen to him.
âYouâre going to be safe here,â You told her, lifting your hand to her hair; the ends were beginning to curl slightly. âI know you might grow up and have questions one day, and who knows, maybe when youâre all grown up, youâll know the truth about everything and youâll understand why we did what we did.â You paused. âThis is the right thing to do, sweet girl. It's the best thing for you. Frank is going to make a great dad, and Billâwell, Bill is Bill. But I know youâll have him wrapped around your little finger in no time. I promise thereâs a softie underneath that grumpy exterior, just have to bring it out of him, is all.â Despite it all, you couldnât help but laugh a little.Â
Joel craned his neck ever so slightly to get a better look at her. âSheâs so alert,â he observed. âYâknow, for beinâ a couple days old and all.â
You glanced up at him. Somehow, you mustered up the courage to ask, âJoel? Do you want to hold her?â
Joel hesitated. But you were shocked he didnât immediately decline.
That meant that he did.
You carefully stood up from the couch and slowly walked over to him. Giving her another kiss on the cheek, you held her out towards him.
Joel looked at her reluctantly, but then gave in and took her into his arms. He leaned his weight back into the chair and started rocking, knowing the movement would be soothing for the baby. âSheâs got your nose,â he murmured, watching as the motion started luring her into another slumber.
âThat head of hair is all you, though,â You told him with a tiny, sad smile. âIâm going to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. Iâll be right back.â
Moments later, when youâd returned, you stopped in your tracks out in the hallway when you heard Joel speaking. Furrowing your brows, you leaned your back against the wall and listened in to what he was saying.
âHi babygirl,â he started, his voice low but gentle. âEverythinâ your mama just told you, well, sheâs right. Weâre doinâ this to keep you safe. We wanna give you a chance at a decent life. She doesnât wanna give you up. Neither do I,â he confessed. âBut we canâtâI canât keep you safe. I can barely keep your mama safe most of the time, yâknow.â
You hung your head, willing yourself to hold back the tears.
âI didnât want you, at least not at first,â Joel continued to say, an ever so slight tremble to his voice. âThought you were the biggest mistake we ever couldâve made. But now that youâre here and Iâm holdinâ you in my arms, I realize I was wrong. Iâm glad youâre here, babygirl. This world is ugly, but you remind me that thereâs still beauty in it. Not a whole lot, but just enough to shine a little light in the darkness.â
Joel paused and as you peeked around into the living room, you saw him press his lips carefully to her cheek, right where youâd kissed her too. âYou wonât be ours after today, but that doesnât really matter. At the end of the day, youâre always gonna hold a place in my heart. Right next to your big sister. Alright?â
A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away with the back of your free hand. As soon as you were certain that heâd said all he had needed to say, you walked into the living room and offered him a sip of your water, behaving as if you hadnât just heard him pour his heart out to his baby daughter. Joel moved over onto the couch with you and for the next couple of hours, the two of you took turns holding her. By the time early evening arrived, you realized that you and Joel were really pushing it. And knowing Bill, you were absolutely overstaying your welcome.
âSo, we just wanted to check in with you two,â Frank said tentatively, nervously wringing his hands together as walked into the room with a very unhappy Bill trailing behind him. âItâll be getting dark soon.â
You and Joel stood from the couch; he handed the baby over to you.
Your heart lodged in your throat, you walked over to Frank and eased her into his arms. âHere you are.â
Taking a step backwards, you watched as he looked down at her, his face beaming.
âFatherhood looks good on you,â You couldnât help but tell him. And you meant it.
Frank was going to make the most incredible, loving father.Â
âDoes it?â Although he was smiling, he sounded nervous.
âYouâre going to be a natural,â You touched his arm lightly. âWe know sheâs going to be in the best possible care.â Dropping your hand back down to your side, you glanced over at Joel, who stood there silently, his jaw clenched. âWeâd better be going.â
âYou know youâre more than welcome to come and see her whenever youâd like,â Frank offered. âWe really wouldnât mind that.â
âDonât take that too literally,â Bill gruffed behind him. âThe less visits, the better.â
You nodded, your voice cracking slightly as you said, âWe know.â
âLetâs get a move on.â Joel nudged you lightly with his elbow. Did you just hear his voice break a little too?
After one final goodbye, about five minutes later, you and Joel found yourselves on the other side of the fence.
Joel noticed the expression on your face. He could see you crumbling right in front of his very own eyes like a pastry. He didnât know what to say or do to make it betterâhell, he knew nothing was going to make it better. He wanted so badly to reach out and put his arms around you, but he was afraid that one touch would cause you to come undone. âCâmon, we need to get movinâ before it gets too late or weâll freeze our asses off,â he reminded you quietly. He started leading the way, but turned around when he realized you werenât following behind him. âBabyââ
And just like that, the sob youâd been fighting finally escaped you.
âIâm sorry, Joel,â You quickly shook your head, trying desperately to stop the tears, but it was too late.
âDonât be sorry, itâs alrightââ
Before Joel could reach out for you, you sank down to your knees on the gravel. You placed your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the sound of your cries. You knew it would be hard, but nothing could have prepared you for the god awful feeling of leaving Bill and Frankâs empty handed, without your baby daughter in your arms.
Joel sighed softly and crouched down beside you, pulling you into his arms. âShh, baby. I know,â he tried soothing you, one hand around your shoulders and the other gingerly stroking your hair. âI know.â
Though nightfall was fast approaching, he didnât push you. He simply held you until you eventually ran out of tears and little hiccups were all that was left. âIâm so sorry.â
âStop fuckinâ sayinâ youâre sorry,â Joel said, squeezing your body against his to keep you warm against the chilly, evening breeze. âYou have nothinâ to be sorry for, alright?â
âIt hurts. I know we did the right thing, but it hurts so fucking bad.â
Joel pulled away and looked down at you. The sadness was evident in his gaze. âWe did do the right thing. Sheâs going to be safer here than she could ever be with us in the QZ,â he reminded you, as if you didnât already know that. âAt least here, sheâll be well fed. Sheâll have running water. Sheâll get to enjoy fresh, clean air. Sheâll get to run around the front yard and play in the grass. She wonât have to walk home from fuckinâ FEDRA school past a fire pit full of burninâ bodies every goddamn day.â
âMaybe itâs just me being selfish, but that doesnât make it hurt any fucking less, Joel,â You confessed, the guilt causing a fresh batch of tears to brim your eyes. âI know weâll still get the chance to see her every now and again, but itâs not enough. It wonât ever be enough for me.â
He leaned down, leaning his forehead against yours. âI know. Wonât ever be enough for me either.â
You closed your eyes, another tear finding its way down your cheek. âHow the fuck are you supposed to go on when you feel like a part of your heart is missing?â
âYou just do,â Joel whispered. âYou just move on. Try to, anyway.â He rose to his feet and pulled you up with him. âWhen I lost Sarah, I had nothing. Nobody. Tommy wasnât someone I could count on, he was too busy thinkinâ he could save the fuckinâ world.â He chuckled bitterly. âSo I carried that grief with me for years, all on my own. Like the weight of a thousand bricks strapped to my fuckinâ back.â
âJoelâŠâ You opened your eyes, your gazes meeting together.
He lightly brushed his lips against forehead. âYou ainât alone, darlinâ. You have me and I ainât gonna let you carry this pain alone. You understand me? Never.â
âI know that,â You choked out.Â
Joel pulled you against him once again, his arms wrapping themselves around you.Â
âI love you.â
It was just above a whisper, barely audible but youâd heard him.
Clutching fistfuls of his jacket, you buried your face into his chest, uttering, âI love you too.â
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#tw pregnancy#fic: tdtrt
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I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc theyâre âfrenchâ. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and itâs too hard. Like dude I get it, Iâm busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think itâs arrogant. Like oh youâre comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And youâre enforcing its barriers with the excuse that youâre autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone whoâs wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or itâs a reflection of a society thatâs taught you to prioritize what it shillsâ popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues theyâll have one particular ânicheâ, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But theyâre still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like thereâs so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You donât gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But donât you wanna aim higher? Arenât you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say theyâre chronically ill or disabled and canât get outside. Thatâs okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. Thereâs Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but itâs imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that youâve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever youâre asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. Iâm kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesnât lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times Iâve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I donât like jazz bc itâs boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you donât like it but donât try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as theyâre allowed to dislike jazz Iâm allowed to not really enjoy people who donât like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they donât want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing Iâm getting into is circuit bending.
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UD headcanons no one asked for!
my motivation has gone to get the milk and has not come back since, SO HEY! who wants to hear some random headcanons that have been microwaving in my head for the past year???
this is going to be a long one...
stuff under the cut vvv
Lou is the kinda guy to only pack nice looking outfits on a holiday. Do they suit the occasion? Probably not. But he wants to look the part every where he goes, even if he's wearing a suit during the middle of summer
He would also be the guy to complain that it's too cold, even though he was told to pack up layers of clothes for a hiking trip, and didn't. But when someone tries to give him a coat, he says "I don't need that, I'm fine!" even though he looks like he's going to freeze over.
He takes the coat not too soon after
On the other hand, either Nolan or Ox would overpack for a trip. Ox because he is basically the fatherly figure of the group, and wants to make sure that everyone has enough food, water, and layers of clothing for the trip. Oh, and he brings a first aid kit as well. Nolan however does it because "What if I didn't pack enough?? What if I need this oddly specific thing??" and packs more than he needs to
Speaking of Ox, he always came off as a character who really enjoys camping and exploring, ya know? He seems like the leader of a scout group who loves to sing campfire songs and tell spooky stories that no one believes. (him and Rhidian would get along well)
LITERALLY NO ONE TALKS ABOUT LUCKYBAT AND OX'S DYNAMIC AND IT'S DRIVING ME WILD. Hello?? A withdrawn and somewhat jaded mayor who is protective of those he's close to with his intelligent, caring and concerned assistant?? That sounds interesting!
I'm sure LuckyBat knows more than anyone else (besides Lou) of what Ox went through. Perhaps he didn't know about the Institute, but he knew ox went through some stuff outside Uglyville. Perhaps that's why he's so cautious to go into the pipe.
(And perhaps the reason why he decides to go to learn new stuff was for the sake of finding out what Ox doesn't speak about?)
Back to the Prettydolls, I always found it interesting that Nolan was able to run the gauntlet despite being imperfect, although Moxy and Mandy, two other imperfect dolls, were thrown into recycling. Why was Nolan allowed to run the gauntlet, huh Lou? Didn't you say that any unideal looking doll goes to recycling, Lou????
Personally, I like to think that Lou allowed Nolan to do training and was like "Haha watch this idiot fail". And turns out Nolan was really good at it (flashbacks to Nolan being buff in the novel). Lou is flabbergasted.
...Either that or Lou just allowed him to run the gauntlet to watch him fail immediately because "Haha funny" and also "Haha imperfects can't win. Suck it loser~"
Kitty is jealous of Mandy's makeup skills, and often copies her because of it, too embarrassed to ask for advice because she needs to learn on her own. After Lou gets overthrown, Kitty and Mandy help each other out on their makeup and hair
Tuesday is the girl to think that "Yeah I'm smiling, but inside I'm crying" is the deepest thing to ever exist. Kitty bullies her for it.
Also, Tuesday cry-sings "I'm a mess" by Bebe Rexha after Lou denied her 1244th love confession. She will try again tomorrow
Because Kelly Clarkson was pop-rock for a while, I like to imagine that Moxy had a rock-n-roll rebellious phase, and still has a few characteristics from that era of her life
During the scene where Lou is going up the gauntlet lift with everyone else, he is constantly moving about. Winking at Mandy to fake confidence, adjusting his suit...etc. I always saw this has him being nervous, because you know, he's about to expose himself for being a prototype after this gauntlet stuff is over. So I like to think that he fiddles around with his suit when he's nervous. Mainly readjusting the sleeves, tightening his ascot tie and flicking out his collar. Also pulling out loose threads, if there is any.
I thought for the longest time that when Lou's hair got slightly messier, it showed him being more genuine. There is one god damn strand on his fringe that goes from being in place to hanging out, and I thought it showed him losing his façade, very very subtly.
This might be a hot take but I always saw Loundy (Mandy/Lou) as being friends/lovers to enemies. Think about it: Lou and Mandy seemed to have some sort of connection, Mandy (in my opinion) basically being Lou's assistant, similar to the spy girls. She began thinking he was perfect, and they formed a (seemingly) close bond. But over time, as Lou's desperation for perfection increased, her opinion of him soured, and she realised he isn't as perfect as she thought. She kept the negative thoughts to herself, though. Who would believe her? The perfect doll with the flawless looks and endless talents, topped off with a charming personality... Why would he be unhinged? How would he be unhinged?
You know that line Mandy says to Lou at the gauntlet? "You know, Lou.. When I first got here, I thought you were perfect. I couldn't find a single thing wrong with you. But, I can see a lot better now." perhaps that wasn't just talking about the events of the film, as it probably implies. Maybe she knows how terrible he's been for a long time...
That's all I got for now, I may doodle some of these if motivation comes back, who knows..
#uglydolls#doodle#uglydolls lou#uglydolls nolan#uglydolls ox#uglydolls tuesday#uglydolls lucky bat#uglydolls moxy#uglydolls kitty#uglydolls mandy#dollpurgatoryart#headcanons#dollpurgatory rambles#art#digital art#digital fanart
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Garden of Secrets [37] - Amaranth
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, youâre amazing!†I hope youâll like this chapter as well, and please donât forget to tell me what you think, thank you! â€
Summary: Art lasts forever.
Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.
Word Count: 3600
Series Masterlist
The first thing you felt through the warmth of peaceful sleep was the blinding sunrays piercing through the darkness, causing you to make a face and wonder why on earth the curtains were open this earlyâ
Oh.
You werenât in your room.
A smile curled your lips as you shifted closer to Benedict who looked to be still in deep sleep, one arm thrown over his eyes while the other kept you close to his chest even in his sleep. You had found a couple of soil bags last night to use as pillows along with a very old blanket that you suspected they used to carry the said bags, and thrown it over you. You let your hungry gaze wander down from his handsome face to his perfect torso; he looked like a statue one of his idols would sculpt in Renaissance in such an effortless way that even looking at him made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks burning when you remembered last night.
Well, as it turned out Benedict was right.
It felt absolutely divine.
You nibbled on your lip, dragging your eyes away from him to your surroundings. In daylight, the greenhouse looked so beautiful that it felt as if you were in a dream, making you heave a sigh. You slowly pulled away from him, careful not to wake him up and reached for your shift to put it on. It was dry unlike the rest of your clothes but it was so see-through in the sunlight that if it were any other time you would have never thought of walking around just in that, except thatâ
Well.
Considering last night, it wouldnât be a scandal.
You bit down a smile and got off the floor, approaching the Middlemist Red. You still couldnât believe it was yours, after years and years of dreaming of seeing it at least once in some sort of exhibition, now you could see it anytime you wanted in your own greenhouse. You gently caressed the petals with your fingertip, then checked the soil in the pot to see whether it needed water but it was still damp so you figured it could wait until later in the day. You looked around, taking in the sight.
This was actually yours. All of it.
âI thought you left.â
You looked over your shoulder and turned around to look at Benedict better, your heart skipping a beat as you did. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position with the blanket pooled around his waist, his hair messy as he ran his hand through it, that lopsided grin you loved so much playing on his lips. You took a deep breath to snap yourself out of the haze, then leaned back to the shelf.
âWell this is my greenhouse,â you said airily, motioning between you before pointing at him. âSo hypothetically, if anyone was to leaveâŠâ
He chuckled, his eyes gleaming. âMm, should I leave then?â
âNo,â you said with a grin. âIn fact, I donât think either of us should. Letâs just stay here for the rest of our lives.â
He stretched out his arm as if offering you his hand. âWill you come here please?â
You pretended to think about it, then approached him with a giggle that turned into a squeal when he grabbed you by the waist to pull you to his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart slamming against your ribcage as he leaned in to kiss you, making you heave a happy sigh.
âGood morning my love,â he muttered to your lips, stroking your cheekbone and coaxing a smile from you.
âGood morning.â
âRemind me again, why are you wearing clothes?â
You let out a small laugh. âFor decorum, obviously,â you teased him. âI mean surely you cannot disagree with propriety, can you?â
âI absolutely can,â he said, stealing a kiss from you as his hand trailed up your leg, pushing the skirt of your shift up, awakening fire on your skin. âTo hell with decorum.â
You felt nearly intoxicated as a giggle climbed up your throat and he rolled you over to get on top of you, settling between your legs, holding himself up on one arm to look down at you with a soft smile.
âGod, Iâll never be able to paint thisâŠâ he murmured and you tilted your head, stroking your fingertips over his chest, right over his heart.
âWell I suppose youâll have to settle for the feeling rather than the depiction,â you tried to joke, stealing a look at him before the thought hit you, making you furrow your brows. He knew you too well not to notice it, so he pulled back just a little.
âWhat is it?â
âThis doesnât change things, does it?â
âWhat do you mean?â
You swallowed thickly, looking up at him.
âYou wonât take it back now that IâŠâ you trailed off. âYou wonât stop loving me now that I said I love you?â
That fond look appeared in his blue eyes again and he smiled at you, then reached to your hand to rest your palm flat against his chest, letting you feel his strong heartbeat.
âThis life and beyond, remember?â he murmured. âI couldnât stop loving you if I tried.â
You pressed your lips together and he tilted his head.
âYou donât believe me?â
âI do, but I just donât see how,â you muttered. âI mean Iâveâ Iâve been terrible to you.â
âNo you havenât.â
You scoffed. âBen.â
âWhat?â he said with a small laugh. âYou havenât.â
âJust yesterday I accused you of cheating on me.â
âI mean it brought us here to this so Iâm not complaining,â he said, wiggling his brows and drawing a burst of laughter from your lips.
âNo but ever since we met, Iâve beenâŠâ you mumbled. âNot nice to you.â
âYou were.â
You shot him a look and the corners of his lips twitched upwards.
âItâs a subjective matter.â
You looked around the greenhouse before turning your glances to him. âCan I ask you something?â
âYou can ask me anything.â
âWhy did you do all this for me when you didnât even know I was in love with you?â
He frowned slightly, thinking for a moment before shaking his head.
âI didnât do this so that you would fall in love with me,â he said. âI did it because I want you to be happy. Simple as that.â
You felt as if your heart was melting and you leaned up to kiss him but the sound of a movement by the door reached you, making Benedict roll off you to shield you with his body as soon as the door opened and Mr. Binsted walked in.
âOhâmy apologies!â he exclaimed as soon as his eyes fell on you two, then he looked up, his whole face going red. âSir. Maâam.â
âMr. Binsted,â Benedict said, trying to keep a straight face as if nothing was out of the ordinary while you stayed behind him, your cheeks burning. âGood morning.â
âHello,â you murmured, still hiding behind Benedict and Mr. Binsted nodded, keeping his eyes on the ceiling.
âGood morning, Iâll justâcome back later,â he stammered and left, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You buried your face to Benedictâs shoulder, gripping his arm tightly and letting out a whine while he started laughing.
âOh my GodâŠâ you said. âOh my God, I can never look him in the eye again.â
Benedict tried to stop his laughter and shook his head, then turned to you.
âCouldâve been worse,â he commented and grabbed you by the waist to get you under him, making you let out a clear laugh despite yourself. âBesides, look on the bright side.â
You raised your brows, still smiling. âAnd what is that?â
âWell you see my love, nowâŠâ he dipped his head to brush his lips against yours, that familiar fire spreading through your veins as his hand pushed your skirt up. âNow we know no one will be disturbing us for a while.â
                                        *
If somebody told you that one day you would have the greenhouse of your dreams, including the rarest flower in the world and you would spend the whole day away from it, you would have laughed in their face.
Yet in your defense, Benedict had a way of convincing you.
It felt like you were put under some sort of spell, that fire only he managed to breathe into life taking over you until the only thing in your mind was him. After leaving the greenhouse, you had every intention of going back once you had some breakfast but before you knew it, you both found yourselves in his bed.
You could not believe you had denied yourself the bliss for so long when you couldâve been doing this for months and more importantly, you couldnât believe you were still hungry for him even after spending hours in the bed with him, completely lost in the pleasure.
And the worst part? You actually had to step away from his room and from him so that your maid could do your hair for tonight, for Gordonâs gala.
For some reason, every single act except the marital act felt entirely unnecessary to you now that you had gotten a taste of it.
Paula retrieved her hands from your hair, letting you look in the mirror to check your bun and you turned your head, then smiled at her.
âThank you.â
âOf course maâam,â she said as you stood up, and put your corset over your shift. She went behind you to put the laces into the hoops but you turned your head when you heard the knock on the door.
âY/N?â
A bright smile warmed your lips. âCome in Ben!â
The door opened and he stepped inside, and you turned to Paula.
âYou may leave, thank you.â
Paula curtsied and left the room, and you grinned at Benedict, leaning back to the vanity.
âYou look too handsome,â you said, your lips pulled into a small pout as your gaze wandered over him. Unlike you, he looked very much ready to go outside and attend this gala you two were expected in, yet the only thing you wanted to do was to drag him to bed, outside world be damned.
And judging by the mischievous look in his blue eyes, he shared the sentiment.
âLetâs just skip this one,â he said, approaching you and your jaw dropped, an exaggerated shock clear on your face.
âWe made a promise,â you reminded him. âItâs Gordonâs gala.
He hummed, leaning down to kiss you and you giggled, turning around.
âHelp me?â you asked airily, watching him on the mirror a playful smirk curled his lips, then his hands went to the laces of your corset. A giddy laugh climbed up your throat as you reached back to grab at his wrist when you realized the corset getting even looser.
âLace up Ben, not unlace.â
âWe can just tell them we had something to do.â
âLace up,â you teased him with a small smile and he heaved a dramatic sigh, then tugged at the laces, the corset getting tighter around your body. The memory of earlier today flashed before your eyes, with his tight grip around your waist and you felt your cheeks burn, the familiar fire coming to life at your lower stomach.
âYouâre killing me, you know that?â he murmured, dipping his head to press a kiss on the crook of your neck and your eyes fluttered close for a moment before you tried to see through the haze of desire, willing yourself to turn around to look up at him.
âI owe Gordon,â you said, playing with the lapels of his jacket. âFor coming to my auntâs ball. Besides, is he not your hero in art?â
âHe is,â he said, one hand playing with the front ribbon of your corset absentmindedly and you entwined your fingers with his. He raised your hand to press a kiss on the back of it, making your stomach do a pleasant flip.
âWhat if his painting tonight is a masterpiece and you miss it?â you taunted him and he scoffed.
âI have the most beautiful masterpiece in front of me right now,â he said. âIâm not interested in anything else.â
A fire swept over your cheeks and stood on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his.
âYou remember what you said about me being the death of you?â you asked. âNow to think of it, I think we might have gotten it backwards.â
                                             *
There was no wonder why everyone in the ton was competing rather ruthlessly for the invitations for Gordonâs gala, because as far as you could tell, the guests only consisted of his very close friends. When you and Benedict walked in, you couldnât help but notice that you had seen most of these people at the parties Benedict had taken you to, which meant the majority of them were artists.
Not that you had any chance to talk to them. Ever since the beginning of the gala, while waiting for Gordon to unveil the painting in the middle of the room, you and Benedict had been inseparable. Perhaps it was good that only a handful of people who were more open about public displays of affection were here with you because if it were any other ball or social outing, you were certain you would have been criticized and made to Lady Whistledownâs newest edition about your lack of decorum, and yet you couldnât find it in you to care.
This daze you found yourself in his presence didnât seem to be going away, and thankfully he seemed to have the exact same issue.
âWhat happens though?â you asked, comfortable in Benedictâs arms while he nuzzled into your hair, his fingertips running up and down your spine while you looked at the paintings on the walls. âThereâs the gala, and then they put the painting in a museum straightaway?â
âIn Gordonâs case yes,â he said, âItâs already sold Iâm guessing.â
âThe painting tonight?â
âMm hm.â
âBut itâs the gala.â
âBuyers see it before the ton,â he said with a smile. âAnd considering how famous he is, Iâm willing to bet multiple museums and collectors climbed all over each other to get it, it mustâve been sold within minutes.â Â
You let out a breath and looked up at him.
âAnd are you excited to see it?â you asked. âThe painting?â
âIf you asked me before yesterday, I would have been,â he admitted. âNow, I donât care much about it.â
âYouâre an artist!â
âIâm a husband as well, and that side of me weighs much more at the moment,â he said and looked around. âYou know, Iâm quite certain Gordon has guest rooms.â
You tried to contain your laughter. âShh!â
âNo Iâm serious, because thereâs still time untilââ
âDid you two not come here from the same house?â Henryâs voice cut him off, making you and Benedict turn your heads and then Benedict buried his nose to the top of your hair, his arms wrapped around your waist as if you two were alone. âWas there some sort of war and you just got back while I wasnât looking?â
âHello Henry.â
âY/N,â he greeted you back with a teasing smile while Benedict rested his chin on top of your head. âIâm terribly sorry to interrupt this, but I need to borrow him for a moment. Ben, Mr. Allingham is here.â
âHm?â Benedict asked after a moment as if he was having a hard time focusing just like you and Henry blinked a couple of times.
âMr. Allingham?â he repeated. âOne of the directors of the Academy? Are youâis he alright?â
You bit back a smile and shrugged your shoulders. âOh Iâd say heâs more than alright.â
âCome on, Iâll introduce you,â Henry said, grabbing him by the arm to pull him away from you gently and you covered your lips to hide your grin.
âHenry, I wasââ
âWith your wife yes, sheâll be there after youâre done talking to Allingham. Artists in love, honestlyâŠâ Henry said as they both walked to the other side of the gallery and you looked around, then caught the side of Margery and Lucy. You took a glass of champagne from the footman, then approached them.
âOh hello Y/N!â
âHello,â you smiled at them. âUmâterribly sorry to interrupt but I just wanted to thank you, Margery.â
She raised her brows and gave you a small smile. âThe surprise?â
âYes.â
âDonât mention it,â she said with a wink while Lucy looked between you two.
âWhat surprise?â
âBenedict had a surprise for Y/N, I happened to know a person who could help,â she said airily. âIâm glad you liked it. Consider it my apology for all those stupid rumors about him and me.â
âItâs beyond me how anyone could ever believe those.â Lucy commented and you shifted your weight, nodding fervently.
âI know,â you said with a scoff, waving a hand in the air. âComplete nonsense, I doubt anyone actually believed it.â
âLadies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention,â you heard Gordonâs voice and the chatter of the crowd ceased immediately. You saw him making his way to the covered painting in the middle of the gallery and everyone followed him.
âLetâs see the painting first and then I have so much to tell you,â Margery said, squeezing your hand before Lucy winked at you and pulled her towards the rest of the crowd. You felt someone touching the small of your back and Benedict pressed a kiss on your temple.
âCome on,â he said, gently leading you closer to the painting and you entwined your fingers with his, leaning your head to his arm when you came to a stop. Gordon smiled at you two, then cleared his throat and turned to the guests.
âIâve always thought a painting should speak for itself rather than the artist speaking for it,â he said. âBut I feel confident in saying that love continues to inspire each and every one of us, may it be our actions or art. Therefore, Iâm glad to share The Artist and the Muse with you.â
With that, he pulled the cover off of the painting and the crowd gasped, a round of applause rising soon after. You tilted your head and stepped closer to the painting, a slight frown furrowing your brows.
There was no wonder Gordon was a living legend in the art world, it was such a beautiful painting that it almost took you by surprise. The two figures in the garden under the moonlight seemed to be in an embrace, their faces hidden but you didnât even need to see their faces to know that they were in love. You had no idea how Gordon had managed to depict it, but anyone who so much as laid eyes on the painting would be able to tell this was some sort of an escapade from the crowd, as if those figures were the only lovers left in the world.
âHow did heâŠ?â Benedict breathed out and you looked up at him.
âHe really is insanely talented,â you commented. âI mean I feel as if theyâre familiar, I donât get that feeling from many paintings.â
Benedict turned to look at you better as if trying to see whether you were jesting.
âI mean Iâd assume so,â he said. âConsidering weâre looking at ourselves.â
Your head shot up. âWhat?â
âColeshill Ball,â Benedict said, motioning at the painting. âThatâs the garden, thatâsâŠthatâs the gown you were wearing. We stepped outside for a moment, remember? Danced in the garden?â
Your jaw dropped as the memory flashed through your mind. Benedict was right, it was all familiar; the garden, the gown, the scenery itself. That was the night where you had apologized to Benedict and you two had danced in the garden, with him holding you close, away from the ton and their nonsense almost like a shelter.
Gordon had told you, way before tonight.
The storm and the shelter werenât separate things as it turned out.
âWell you two look rather shocked,â Gordonâs voice snapped you out of it and Benedict let out a laugh.
âGordon, is thatâŠâ
âYou, yes,â he said. âNot to worry, I will never tell people itâs you. I just happened to be looking out of the window, desperate to get away from the ton and all that chatter and I saw you two dancing andâŠwell, Iâm sure you donât need me to tell you how inspiration works Ben. Y/N, I hope you donât mind?â
You shook your head fervently.
âNo,â you said. âGod no, not at all. IâŠI donât know what to say, Gordon. It's an honor.â
Gordon bowed his head.
âItâs not the last painting that will have you as its subject Iâm sure,â he smiled, nodding in Benedictâs direction. âIâd better go and say hello to Allingham, if youâll excuse me. Enjoy the gala.â
With that, he walked away from you and Benedict exhaled, still in disbelief. You stepped into his embrace, keeping your eyes on the painting and he dipped his head to kiss the top of your hair.
âYou know, Gordon is a legend,â he muttered. âWhich means this painting will be gazed upon for centuries.â
âSo will yours Ben,â you said as you rested your head on his arm, heaving a sigh. âAnd I donât know. I still like your paintings better.â
Chapter 38
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You donât like 1920s, 1940s AND 1950s fashion? Damn what did the mid-century do to you lol. K but seriously why not the 50s? The skirts had volume and were long-ish (at least in high fashion) and blouses were well structured and fitted and often had embroidery or embellishments.
Obviously I don't hate ALL of it; no era is a monolith. But there are a few things these eras have in common that I hate:
The rise of synthetic fabrics, AKA Using Plastic To Make Clothing. We're now at a place in terms of clothing where its actively harder and more expensive to wear natural fibers than to wear clothing made entirely of a substance that leaches into our water, holds odors, makes us sweat more, doesn't generally last as long or admit as much repair over time as most natural textiles, and just Kind of Sucks all around except for a few very specific purposes. Synthetics weren't invented in the 1920s, and natural fibers were common in all of these eras than they are today, but it was definitely increasing amounts of "BUY THESE NEW EXCITING PROGRESSIVE MODERN FABRICS!!!" throughout the early and mid-20th century. Which pisses me off in principle.
Less practical garments unless you lived a very specific lifestyle- namely, access to washing machines and a willingness to launder clothing after just one wear. Modern clothing is just not great unless you have access to very frequent washing (see above re: holding odors more than many natural fibers) and barrier garments to keep sweat away from them and stretch the time between washes aren't a thing anymore for most people. In the eras mentioned, everyone was getting so excited about machine laundry capabilities- and who wouldn't? washing machines ARE a huge boon! no denying that! -that they shifted away from modes of dress designed to minimize the necessity of laundering outer clothes. Except now, with concerns about the aforementioned microplastic leaching from washing machines draining into municipal sewers and less mendable clothing- washing is a huge strain on garments, and wears them out faster if you do it too often -we need to be getting back to the system of having fewer but higher quality garments and washing them less often. Except we can't. Because some idiot in the 1920s said "whoopee nobody will ever need linen combinations or chemises that actually serve a purpose anymore!" and the subsequent decades continued it.
The silhouettes generally do not spark joy for me. 1920s actively makes me fly into a rage and scream into pillows, with the exception of robes de style MAYBE. 1940s...well, let's say there was a reason the New Look was so popular, and that's "no more boxy utility wartime clothes." I will give 1940s the hair prize here, though, because I like it better than any other decade 1920s-50s. I actually DO like the New Look! ...but not its combination with the bullet bra; yikes. This is highly subjective.
Some of the textiles, patterns, colors, and common embellishments used are just not my thing. I don't go in for Bold And Graphic And Geometric anything, usually. With a very very small number of exceptions. Polka dots and florals are also not my thing (unless the florals are on a dark background). Plastic jewelry? Hard pass. ~Fun~ motifs like fruit (except pomegranates which have Goth Appeal), the poodles on a poodle skirt, household objects, transportation, etc? No thank you; reads too Kindergarten Teacher for me. Again, not universal or exclusive to those eras- witness the 1880s chicken-print dress I saw an illustration of once -but more prevalent, to my eyes.
Hair. 1920s bobs make most people's heads look blocks. I love a good bob, but those are not Good in my opinion. 1920s Up Hair is usually meant to mimic a bob. 1930s was only a little bit better. 1940s, as I've said, was skirting the line for me and marginally acceptable. 1950s took us right back to a solid Nope with either short poodle cuts or pageboys as the main options for adult women. An occasional chignon maybe, but nothing else that appeals to me personally. just not great all around.
All of these eras were holier-than-thou about the Victorians and their fashion, which I love, so I'm petty about it. Yes please tell me more about how your plastic bullet bras or potato sack dresses are inherently superior to Grandma's elegant and comfortable long wool skirts with the perfect center back pleating. Oh, the 1860s were the ugliest fashion period ever in your opinion? Fascinating. I am setting your car on fire.
I actually DO like the New Look...which is heavily inspired by mid-19th century fashion, so that's not really any big surprise. Still has the issues with synthetic materials and the end of practical undergarments, though. Also, why stop at mid-calf for everyday skirts? Instep Or Bust You Cowards.
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thereâs something about wincest in the pre-slash era (whenever that is) where i think the dynamic is: one of them does not have sex with men. doesnât think of them that way, because it feels too dangerous, too easy to slip into those fantasies he keeps locked away. and the other one fucks guys, but only ones who are eerily similar, carbon copies to his brother. the type of resemblance that would turn most siblings off. and the roles could go either way, for either of them. just⊠the dynamics of the different types of desperate âunrequitedâ feelings and the way they try to get away from them.
like. dean getting drunk and making out with some tall, long haired guy at a bar. nasty desperate hands down the back of the guys jeans, stifling a sigh that his ass isnât quite round enough to be samâs. he has blue eyes, not brown, but dean isnât looking at his face anyway. fucking not-sam rough in the back of the impala, moaning baby and cutting off before brother, saying samâs name when he cums, trying not to stare at the army figure in the ashtray. hating himself for it, swearing off it, but always crawling back, chasing the high like an addict. feeling deep in his soul that sam was right to leave, that heâs better off without his sick freak of a brother.
sam being into girls with short hair, accidentally hitting on lesbians because he struggles to be attracted to anything not wearing a crew cut, flannel and work boots. heâs sick, he knows, thatâs part of why he had to leave. frosh week drunk, he lets a guy flirt with him, because heâs just tall enough, just different enough, that sam can give himself plausible deniability. his lips are too thin, heâs too gentle, he smells like axe and fake leather, but sam needs something, and this is all he can get. itâs going fine, until the guyâ too late now to ask his nameâ goes for samâs belt and sam feels like heâs going to puke. the wrongness of it comes over him all at once, like a fever or a hex. clarity pierces his drunken state: not deanâs hands, not deanâs voice, not dean, wrong. at least it gives him an excuse to back out, a good reason to lock himself in the bathroom and sit on the floor, trying to determine if the dry heaving is cheap beer or grief.
girls areâ safe. long hair, soft hands, sweet and gentle and nowhere close to 6â1. this way, thereâs nothing reminding sam of the absence, nothing pushing against the barrier heâs made around what he really wants. he can be normal.
he knows itâs dean after the first strike, knows his footsteps and his breath and the outline of his shoulders, even now, even in the dark. but sam doesnât stop fighting, because heâll have to stop touching dean, and sam can allow himself this one thing, after so long. deanâs leather jacket on samâs bare arms is making him dizzy, and sam lets dean take him down, the beginning and end of samâs understanding of desire. a reminder, familiar like deanâs rough palms on his wrists, his weight pinning sam, his shit-eating grin and drawled easy, tiger; sam has never been normal.
#ok my last rb just reminded me of this#ive been thinking about it a lot#in my stanford pining era#it could go the other way tooâŠ. Sam searching for replacements#and dean being like ahaha i donât like Guys wtf đ§ââïž#also. if the one doin the fucking wonât kiss the guys#hhghhhh#wincest#hc#pre series#mars.txt#my writing
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VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. -l.jh
ooh, i love that dress but you wonât need it anymore â
Or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just⊠not go to your dinner plans.
pairing; lee jihoon x fem reader. content; fluff, suggestive (MINORS DNI). established relationship. warnings; relatively warning free (y'all i didn't even swear???) but just in case -- a couple of dorky jokes, reader wears a dress, makeup and heels, making out, undressing. let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c; 2.4k (apparently i am in my shorter fic era? party.) note; if there's one thing i'm gonna do, no matter what day of the week it is, it's be disgustingly delusional about jihoon. get ur dentists on speedial, it's a tooth rotter (/j). note 2.0; i've had this one in the drafts for so long i had forgotten all about it! but then VOTF came on shuffle a few days ago (and i started thinking about light a flame woozi at the same time, which nearly fucking killed me), so. here we are. enjoy.<3
You donât go out for dates very often. Not anymore, at least.
When you and Jihoon first got together, he took you out all the time. For dinners, to cocktail bars, to the movies, for walks down the beach, picnics by the river. It didnât matter where you went as long as it put a smile on your face â all he ever wanted to do was make you feel special. No expense has ever been too great for his favourite girl, after all; heâs always loved to spoil you.
Now several years into your relationship, youâre a real pair of homebodies. Sure, he could take you out for a four course dinner at an expensive restaurant in the middle of the city, or reserve a table at a pretentious cocktail bar that plays slightly too loud music thatâs always just to the left of either of your tastes. Then again⊠He could cook a nice meal for you to have at the apartment you share, where you can make your way through a bottle of bubbles without one of you needing to stay sober to drive home or else risk your lives in a sketchy cab.Â
Itâs something youâve talked about several times, and on every occasion, itâs quite apparent that youâre both very happy with the way things are. If anything, it makes it all the more special when he tells you he needs you to keep your weekend free because heâs making plans, and he wants to whisk you away.
Like now, for instance. The hotel suite heâs booked is gorgeous and youâre perched on the edge of the plush bedding, bent over double so that you can properly fasten your shoes while he finishes getting ready in the bathroom. Now and again, you hear a grumble or a click of his tongue float through the ajar door; every time, you feel a smile play at your lips as you shake your head. He never changes. (Youâre so glad.)
âJihoon,â you call to him softly. You can practically see how heâll be standing â facing the mirror, on his tiptoes to lean over the bathroom counter and get as close to his own reflection as he possibly can. Pouting as his fingers drag through his hair to try and fix the strands in place just a tiny bit better. âDonât you dare come out here looking like Sonic the Hedgehog. You know the more you play with it, the more annoyed youâre going to get.â
A few seconds later, he emerges, an eyebrow raised in challenge, an amused grin tugging his lips out of their habitual frown.Â
(And lo and behold â his hair looks absolutely fine.)
But the second he sees you, whatever witty comeback he was obviously very proud of dies on his lips, and you straighten up with only one of your shoes secured to your foot, the other just slipped on over your toes.
âWow,â he says, in that soft, deep, quiet way that he does when youâve really taken his breath away. You watch his Adamâs apple bob in his throat as he swallows; you see his brow crinkle and his eyes widen, as if heâs trying to see as much of you as he possibly can. âIs thatâŠ?â
âYeah,â you nod proudly, sitting back and smoothing your hands over the dress youâre wearing. âFrom our first anniversary.â
As his eyes move over you, taking in everything from the way the straps sit on your shoulders to the way the hem lays across your thigh, your own eyes move over him. The top three buttons of his shirt are still unfastened and his tie hangs either side, tucked beneath his collar but not knotted yet. His slacks have been cleanly pressed, a neat, crisp seam running down the front of both legs. Shoes shined to perfection. Expensive watch strapped around his wrist.Â
He might just be the most handsome man in the entire world.
âI remember you saying you really liked it, so⊠I dug it out, special.âÂ
âYou look incredible,â he says. Itâs so gentle, so sincere, that you think your heart is about to burst clean out of your chest. Warmth trickles the length of your spine, and it isnât exactly helped when you realise â only now as he starts to cross the room to get closer to you â that he hadnât moved an inch since he surfaced from the bathroom almost a full ninety seconds ago.
He shrinks down so heâs rested on both of his knees in front of you, skilful hands moving to help with the shoe you hadnât managed to lace up yet. every time his fingertips so much as brush against your skin, the electricity in his gentle touches shoots all the way from the point of contact up to your brain and leaves it fogged, impossible to make any sense through the thick clouds of intimacy and adoration. More-so as he smoothly lifts your leg a little and presses his lips once to the inside of your ankle, even foggier still as he trails kisses up the length of your calf towards your knee.Â
âJihoon,â you laugh breathlessly, laying a hand on his shoulder as you feel his tongue press lightly against your skin. He finally sits back on his heels, running his fingers up and down the backs of your legs; heâs successfully managed to hike your dress up a few inches now, too, and he keeps flitting his gaze between your face and your thighs. âWe canât â weâll be late.â
âWe have ages,â he frowns, shuffling closer and trying to bump your knees apart, but you keep your muscles engaged and he doesnât pull at them that hard, so they donât budge.
âWe have to get there, too,â you remind him. He throws his head back and sighs dramatically. The neckline of his dress shirt seems to open a little more when he looks back at you, drawing your attention down the length of his neck to his bulging chest, and the muscular forearms that he crosses in front of it.
âAnd this is why we donât go out.â
âWhat, because youâre horny all the damn time?â You tease.Â
He gently swats at the top of your thigh before soothing it with another small kiss.Â
âBecause when you look this good, how am I supposed to want to go and eat a steak instead?âÂ
He grins up at you from the floor, quite clearly delighted with himself for his little gag. You, however, flop back onto the mattress and cover your face with your hands.
âThat was so bad,â you chuckle. Youâve been trying for years to not melt to his very specific sense of humour, but itâs all been completely futile. Your reluctant laughs turn to sweet, breathy giggles by the time he lays both his arms across your legs and rests his chin on top of them. You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him; heâs staring up at your face like he thinks heâll never see anything as beautiful as you for the rest of his life.Â
âMaybe⊠We donât have to go out for dinner,â he suggests. âMaybe we can stay in tonight, too.â
âHorndog.â You tsk. But youâre not disappointed at the idea of staying in, either, regardless of whether your teasing implies otherwise. âI knew youâd say that.â
âNo â really,â he swallows. You arenât sure if you can feel his heart beating a little faster where his chest is pressed completely against your shins, or if youâre just imagining it. But the tips of his ears are going pink too, so you think itâs safe to trust your intuition on this one. âI mean-⊠we donât have to go. I could-âŠâ
He bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, pressing his forehead against his arms and hiding his face completely.
âI could do it here.â
He says these words quietly. Mumbles them, really. You arenât sure if you were meant to hear, or if he was just talking to himself. But either way, it has to be worth a shot to find out.
âWhat do you mean, Ji?â
One, two, three seconds pass. And⊠Nothing.Â
âHey.â
You bounce your thighs a little so heâs forced to look up at you, and you can see something swimming in his eyes. Something brewing. He sits back from you and pushes a hand through his hair; a few strands lose their stick to the rest of the main body and tumble down over his forehead. Exactly in the way he was trying to prevent.Â
âI could just do it here.â
He says this louder. Clearer. With much more finality. You sit up properly, then, both your hands clasped together in your lap.Â
âDo what here, baby?â
His eyes find yours and you sit there for a few moments, unwrapping each other's minds with nothing more than a look and a matching pair of gentle â but slightly concerned â smiles.Â
He moves one hand down and slips it into the back left pocket of his slacks. You think you can feel the world around you start to slow.Â
When he shifts a leg from beneath him so heâs on one knee before you and presents you with a glittering diamond ring, it stops altogether.Â
âJihoon,â you breathe.Â
He glances between the ring and you, biting his bottom lip before he speaks.Â
âI had it-⊠I had everything planned.â He laughs, looking away from your face as even more rising heat becomes evident on his own. âDown to the second, even. But just like you always do â just like the first time I saw you, and just like every time since⊠You threw me a curve ball and⊠Somehow, youâve changed everything. But you made it so much better.Â
âI think I was supposed to find you, y/n,â Jihoon says. âI don't know whatâs up there, whatâs in charge of when we meet the people we meet and why we fall in love with the people we fall in love with. but I know that they were really looking out for me the day you came into my life.âÂ
You can feel your eyes starting to sting at the corners and you will the tears away, desperate not to smudge the makeup you spent so long trying to perfect. You know heâd love you either way â mascara tear tracks and splotchy concealer and all â butâŠÂ
âI am so in love with you that sometimes, it really hurts. It hurts because I know that no oneâs ever going to come close â about anyone in the world â to feeling the way I feel about you. I feel bad for everyone, a bit. Because youâre not-⊠you're not with them. Youâre with me. But I wouldnât want any of them to be with you, because-... and⊠and if youâll have me, I want you to be with me forever.â
You don't know when you started slowly nodding along to his little monologue, but you definitely are. Youâre not sure when you started holding your breath either, but thatâs two for two. He looks up at you, expectantly, fluttering his eyelashes and stuttering out a long, deep breath.Â
âY/n, will you marry me?â
Some decisions, youâve always thought, are made for you at a cosmic level. Your favourite colours. Your favourite foods. Hot and cold weather people. Loving or hating marmite. A predisposition to enjoying scary movies or being the kind of person who hides behind a pillow.Â
This is another one of those. You donât have to think twice about it â you just know. You know because a great unstoppable force managed to squeeze you together at the perfect moment in time; the ever-expanding universe around you has kept you and Jihoon side by side through everything it could possibly throw at you.Â
âYes.â
Of course you want to spend your forever with him.Â
The word leaves your mouth in a whisper and everything flies back into motion. The first black droplet rolls down your cheek. His usually so steady hands fumble with yours to slide the ring over your finger. A perfect fit. Youâre hurtling through space and time as he gets up off his knees and cups your cheeks, gently pulling you upright and crashing his lips against yours. You stumble into him slightly in your heels; his kiss is more a chaotic clatter of teeth and giddy laughter than perhaps the intense, romantic gesture he was aiming for, but itâs completely, utterly, unequivocally perfect.
Jihoonâs fancy dress shirt creases under your fingers as you ball it into your fists where the top buttons are spread open, pulling him as close as you can, laughter dying down as he loses himself in you and as you lose yourself in him, right back. He swallows all of your gasps and sighs, hands sliding down from your face to the sides of your neck, until heâs resting a palm on each of your shoulders. A single finger slips beneath one of the straps and he pulls it out of the way, down onto your arm, withdrawing from your mouth so that he can press a series of kisses down your cheek and to your jaw instead.
âJi,â you murmur, tipping your head back and fumbling at the buttons running the length of his torso, trying and failing to get them open. He chuckles, his other hand coming to rest over yours to stop you. You lace your fingers together, feeling him squeeze. Your heart pounds.
âLet's take our time,â he whispers to you, thumb grazing over your collarbone. âOkay?â
All you can do is nod as he kisses lower, and lower, pressing his lips everywhere he can while heâs still standing. Your neck and shoulders feel ablaze, tickling with the heat of the burning stars his mouth paints across your skin.Â
âNeed-... Ji, you need to-... call⊠call the restaurant,â you stutter. âGottaâŠ. we need to cancelâŠâ
The fleeting sting of his teeth against your throat interrupts you and youâre only aware of him reaching behind you to tug the zipper of your dress down when the material falls completely slack..
âIn a minute,â he says, helping you walk backwards until your calves collide with the bed behind you once again. He eases you to lie down on the comforter and crawls on top of you, caging you in with both arms, taking hold of your left hand again.
He looks down at the ring on your finger, his entire face breaking into the most brilliant of smiles. Every inch, from the creases at the corners of his eyes to the paling stretch of his beautiful lips.Â
âMy future wife needs taking care of, first.â
â no you wonât need it no more, letâs just kiss âtil weâre naked, baby.
hehe thank u sm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this bc it was a bit special 2 me. likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all, as always, greatly appreciated.<3
#woozi fluff#woozi fic#woozi x reader#lee jihoon fluff#lee jihoon fic#lee jihoon x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#j writes.#*#running off into the void now <3 don't perceive me BYE
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The witch and the widow chapters 1-4 authorâs notes
Ok, so first off I feel I gotta preface this by saying I am absolutely not a history buff. Kinda the opposite of one really. I was one of less than 10% of the kids in my year of 300 or so that didnât take history at GCSEs, mostly caus a subject taught and based around names and dates etc is the definition of something not suited for my type of brain, also I hugely lost interest in it caus we moved past the fun trebuchet eras and all that real fast and it became of slog of me falling asleep in lessons caus I had a teacher whose method was putting on movies and shutting the blinds (Iâd always fall asleep and he was later jailed for being a p*edophile, so thatâs a thing.) Anyway, all that to say Iâm not good at this shit, but as ive gotten older I have taken a bigger interest in queer history in particular, and that often if not always links into other areas such as fashion, womenâs rights, religion,the arts, class, and race etc. (Iâm still not good at names and dates though!)
They are outfitted and arsenalled - the stones of the wall - in a manner to rival any army; tapestries of red and gold perhaps once brandished on battlefield as banners promenading around death now retired and indoor-still-air-still as taxidermy giving colour between all of the shades of metal, burnished and polished and in some cases rusting, some still purposefully left blood-stained, swords and pikes and maces arranged in wallpaper patterns as though flowers or fans, sword-sheath beams spreading from chest-plate armour suns.
Letâs start with something easy and recent. The Baronâs armoury was inspired by a few castles Iâve visited, these rooms are always so bizarre to me. I donât know if this is at all of the time/how they were decorated or a more recent thing, but either way itâs pretty wild but I do love the visual and metaphor of it. In this one castle I found out from talking about the carpentry to an attendant that the decorative ceiling work around the chandelier above the dining room table actually hid a trapdoor - and there was other hidden doorways for passages and to secret rooms in this castle, thatâs not that unusual - but this particular trapdoor was to allow for the chandeliers to be switched out. Why? Caus they had them in multiple colours of glass, and the lady of the castle liked the chandelier to co-ordinate with her dress if they were having guests round. Aint that such a flex? Definitely some food for future thought.
Aight. Clothing. So anyone that chats fic/au to me or is in my server has probably heard me yell to go watch Kaz Roweâs videos many times. As Iâve said this fic aint meant to be historically accurate but it does kinda straddle histories, one of which being our own; so women wearing trousers and the like at this time would still be a crime, and draw a lot of attention . Imogen in menâs clothing genuinely isnât meant to be much of a gender thing but a thing of practicality, and she has mostly lived in the countryside or in the outskirts, so she does not get into the trouble she would should she go into the towns and cities (another reason to keep away past the potential noise, but this Imogen will happily don a dress or skirts if she needs to, sheâs just usually working â and maybe itâs a bonus that dressing as a man acts as a sort of flagging for any women who might be interested lol.)
I guess here I should mention how I think this version of Imogen's powers and how theyâve manifested (along with everyone else being unaware of them) will have somewhat changed her disposition and personality, it is a lot more aligned with later campaign Imogen who has more confidence and empowerment, she hasnât been ostracised for her abilities or particularly bombarded by them, think more like when she has her circlet on, she chooses to listen in (mostly), although of course she has still heard many terrible things (and her life has still been pretty brutal but thatâs to be written still).
(itâll be really fun in this regard getting to explore and explain this version of Laudna, but early days for giving much away on that yet!)
Her skirts are full and structured and plumed by many layers of petticoats that hide the movement of her feet across the wildflower lawn, causing her to appear to be drifting like the bees do from petal to petal, pollen dusting her pleats though ghostly her skin in contrast to the fine fabrics that she dresses for the part, black in mourning, still, bodice tight and sleeve leg of mutton, an ornate decorative layer of black lace laying over each yard of textured textile like spider webs on porcelain patterns, her husband's tableware collecting dust in the kitchen cupboard.
real impractical for how tending towards practical the Lady dares to be, hands on, too busy for errant hairs in piano key ivory and ebony windswept and loose from the high bun she pins in place with a cameo broach, a memento mori engraved in silver and inlayed with ruby eyes and tied with red ribbons. Her skin also proudly displays the age and perhaps trauma that her hair does, lines from laughter and furrowed brows and the feet of the crows that cry from the top of the chimney pots
A little note as to say that Laudnaâs appearance is heavily influenced by Victorian mourning wear, with some of the clothes cuts altered to be a little bit more regency and earlier in places. (her attire is a little outdated, further suggesting her distancing from society and fashion)
A couple of days ago Imogen happened upon a bird with an injured wing, crying helplessly and rolling in circles, feathers taking flight away from the bird that could not, settling around it as it panicked itself bald-
The bird could not live without the use of its wing, and it didnât, whether that was by Prosciutto or a fox, only its feathers were left in a pile.
Imogen had gathered them into an empty burlap sack; taken them to one of the maids downstairs to clean, repurpose them for filling pillows.
Hereâs a silly little easter egg for my p(r)oof reader. Last time he visited we was enjoying a cinnamon roll from the local bakery by the city river (as you do) and a cyclist hit a seagull. It was real distressing, the seagull was distressed too. A handfull of middle aged women stood around it not wanting or knowing how to intervene as its wing was twisted at a crazy angle and it flapped about in a pile of its own feathers, thereâs still bird flu about so it is wise to not touch wild birds, and as bleak as it is I was saying to freshy that a wild bird whoâs wings broken like that is gonna die, and probably slowly and painfully. Some man came along and lifted up the bird to take the bird off the path and laid it to rest behind an old bridge building, I think he must have mercy killed it too as the bird was already dead when we walked past 10 or so minutes later after finishing our cinnamon roll and giving a cautious glance. So thereâs a nice happy memory thrown in there for him.
what appears to be driftwood breaches the surface, then another point, then another
the water belches
Ceviche scares, whinnying as he rears onto his back legs, the Lady leaning forward and clinging to his harness. Imogen stands in her stirrups, leaning across the gap over to the black stallion, grasping his reins and cooing
âAll good, boy, all good-â
What had appeared to be driftwood lands on the surface with a slap, looking like the carcass of an old boat left to rot in the muddy bed of a dock, timber ribcaged and leathered skin cladding.
A femur surfaces, followed by a jaw.
Second easter egg for the p(r)oof is a quick one (Iâm such a considerate writer, I know.) On a train ride to a loch we went to for a day out there is a stop that is on another lake/body of water, and right by the train tracks (which are at water height) there are 4 or 5 old ships stuck in the mud, most of them just the frames/structures of the old boats, mostly wood and some bits of metal, but theyâre pretty big boats! It really looks like whale carcasses. Iâve always wanted to get of there and check it out, and we were gonna stop by on the way back but my health being what it is was giving me some grief that day so we missed 2 trains and then soon the daylight, so hopefully next time buddy.
Thereâs alotta meat and gore talk and Imogen being a vegetarian without the label for such is just another way of me playing round with all of her complex feelings about what the Lady might be doing, her feelings towards Angharad butchering and nourishing the women with these communal stews and all of that. Iâve been vegetarian myself for 20 years now, and it was all triggered by an existential crisis in my mid teens (still a huge fan of leather and blood though) â Imogen greatly cares about animals, struggles with the thought of anything being slaughtered, she is in some ways more empathetic than most because she knows those she does on so much more of a personal level, really feels how someone is reacting to a situation they are in, but also because of this she knows humans are often corrupt and vile and she is spared such thoughts from animals, only knows their instincts and the love and comfort and service they bring â and yet she will obsess over the Ladyâs (potential) tooling on that saddlework leather thatâs really fucking brutal if she thinks about it one way and beautiful if she thinks about it another hmmm what if everythingâs not black and white.
Oh, and the stew is a homage to @picturesofthegoneworldsâ pre-campaign fic Intertwined which I am lucky enough to co-parent and her writing is hugely influential on mine.
Thereâs a few things being bread crumb trailed here that I canât explain in the author notes yet, but Iâm looking forward to when I can. One small detail I will give away is just a silly thing about the chapter headings. They are something of significance from within the chapter, given in its âproperâ name â maybe someone gets access to some books to do research at some point?
anyways, thanks @astoriacolumnstaircase for enabling me. will do another post like this for future chapters if folks find it interesting.
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Wait how would neighbour könig react to a sick reader? Like theyâve holed themselves up in their apartment and are really unwell. Iâm in my sickly Victorian child era and need comfort from this hunk of a man đ
Exchange
Rated: Mature Word count: 2965 Notes: I flipped flop so much on what kind of sick, but settled on König taking care of you during your period because it allowed the exchange that takes place.
Eating dinner alone in the comfort of his own home had been something König used to look forward to. For one, the food was better than what was offered at the mess hall (not that it was particularly bad). There was also the quiet his home offered, no loud and rambunctious soldiers turning meal time into some form of entertainment or competition. As he rose in rank, he started working while eating, then when he finally got his own place, he discovered he didnât have to. He could take the time to simply enjoy his meal. It was refreshing, to say the least, and turned into a routine. He liked routinesâŠuntil he didnât. Until you moved in next door.
Lately there had been a little dance between the two of you. Sometimes youâd invite him over for dinner, other times heâd invite you over. As much as he wanted to sit you down and insist on a set schedule (every day), he didnât want to scare you away. The next best thing, he figured, was to bring you dinner himself, no excuses, just because he wanted to spend time with you.
He was confident when he knocked on your door. You had expressed interest in this restaurant before and now he was certain to win some favor by sharing his favorite foods with you.Â
He was confident until you opened the door.Â
âHey, König.â You started, a quiet pained sigh following your greeting, âIâm not really up for hanging out tonight.â
âWhatâs wrong?â He asked as he took in your appearance.
You were wearing what he assumed was your pajamas, a t-shirt and a pair of black shorts that normally would have had him drooling over your exposed skin, but that he was too worried that you were hunching over slightly in obvious pain.Â
You shook your head, ânothing. Iâm just not feeling good.âÂ
âLet me help,â he lifted his hands, intending to herd you back inside and either to the couch or your room, but as he did so he brought the container of takeout closer to you.Â
âUgh, König!â You slapped a hand over your mouth and nose and quickly dashed to the kitchen, where you flung yourself over the sink and threw up. It wasnât much, all liquid, bile and spit and what little water you had managed to get down.Â
He cursed quietly and followed you, dropping the food on the counter before gently touching your back. At least he tried to, but you waved him off as you grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe your mouth, though you kept it pressed to your face as you spoke. âIâm just really sensitive to smell right now.âÂ
âOh!â He realized that it was the take out that had caused you to suddenly throw up and apologized before darting out of your flat with the food.Â
You were still in the kitchen when he came back, having dropped the food off at his place. âDarling, please tell me whatâs wrong. I want to help.âÂ
âNothing.â You sighed as you tried to stand straight, though one of your hands remained pressed to your lower stomach.
âYou just threw up on an empty stomach, I do not think that is nothing.âÂ
You scoffed quietly and resisted rolling your eyes. âItâs nothing. I just need to rest, so Iâll see you later, alright?âÂ
You tried to get him to leave, instead he moved even closer to you, setting his hands on your shoulders.Â
âPlease. Let me help.âÂ
You looked up at him, worry clear in his eyes despite the mask he still wore, and sighed as you broke eye contact by dropping your head onto his chest. He didnât seem to mind and started to gently rub your shoulders.Â
As you leaned against him, he started to worry even more. You felt so weak, trembling slightly in his arms, he had to resist the urge to scoop you up and take you back to his home, where he could properly take care of you.Â
âItâs just my period, itâs bad the first day. Just let me go back to bed.â You mumbled and attempted to pull away from him, of course he didnât let you.
âOkay.â He easily picked you up in a bridal carry, ignoring your squeaked protest, and walked you back into your room.Â
Heâd been in your room enough times to see how unusual it was currently. Your bed was a mess, blankets in a tangled bundle with your pillows strewn about, used tissues scattered on the bed and the floor. Your nightstand had a glass of water and some pill bottles on it, next to your laptop which was turned toward the bed with some movie on pause.Â
He gently set you down on your bed and helped straighten out your blanket so you could get comfortable. You mumbled your thanks as you curled up on your side.
âDo you need anything?âÂ
You were about to tell him no when your knee hit the, now cold, heating pad under your blanket.
âUh, actually, can you throw this in the microwave for ninety seconds?âÂ
He nodded with a soft âof course,â and gently took the heating pad from you.Â
Once he was back and handed you the warm compress, he kneeled next to your bed. âAnything else? Something to eat? Fresh water?âÂ
You groaned and shook your head. You were so nauseous you could barely hold down enough water to swallow the pain medication, there was no way you were ready to eat yet.Â
âCuddles?â He asked as you were shaking your head.
You actually chuckled, his own smile softening his eyes.
âI like cuddling with you, König.â Though it didnât happen as often as either of you would like. âBut not now. I move too much and I donât wanna bleed on you.âÂ
König pulled your blanket up to your shoulder, as it had fallen when you reached for the heating pad. âA little blood doesnât scare me, darling.âÂ
You laughed again and scrunched up your face. âGross.âÂ
âOh,â you looked back up at him, âyou really wanna do me a favor?âÂ
He nodded, almost too eager to finally do something to help you.
âCan you take me to work tomorrow? I hate driving like this.âÂ
âYouâre going to work tomorrow?â He blinked rapidly, surprised to hear that you were considering this in the state that you were in.
âYea,â you laughed again, âmy period isnât exactly a good excuse to miss work. Besides, Iâll feel better in a few hours.âÂ
König hummed like he wanted to disagree but nodded. âAlright.âÂ
âThank you. I usually leave around seven.âÂ
Of course, he already knew that. Not that he was going to say so out loud.
König stood back up and hesitated, looking back and forth between you and the door.
âWhat?â You prompted him.
âYou need to lock the door.â
âUgh!â You turned your face into your pillow, hiding a grin. âJust leave it unlocked.â Youâd get it later. You had to get up eventually.Â
âIâm not leaving your door unlocked all night!â König chided as he looked back at you. Especially not when you were this weak and vulnerable! âIâll sleep on the couch.â
You pushed yourself up with another weak laugh and rolled your eyes. âKönig, you can barely fit on that couch sitting down.âÂ
âWell, Iâm not leaving you with your door unlocked.â
âIâll lock it later. Or, or just use my spare key.â
König stiffened, âspare key?â
âYea. Itâs on the shelf in the living room, in the white and blue bowl. With a Hello Kitty keychain.âÂ
As König followed your directions, finding the key easily, he fought with his own thoughts. You were not giving him free access to your flat whenever he wanted! You were just letting him borrow it because he was the one insisting the door be locked.Â
After taking a moment to settle his racing thoughts, he popped back over to your room and knocked on the door to draw your attention.Â
âFound it,â he said as he held up the key with its cute little cartoon charm attached.Â
âGood.â You peeked up at him before settling back down, âthanks, König, goodnight.âÂ
âGoodnight.â
He double checked that the door was locked before he made his way back to his own flat. And even though he thought he should return your key to you tomorrow, he looped it onto his own set of keys.Â
-
König was concerned when in the morning you admitted to still not having eaten. He was even more concerned when he picked you up from work you admitted to also having skipped lunch.Â
âItâs fine,â you reassured him, again, as he helped you down from the truck. âIâll eat later. Right now I just need a nice hot shower and to stretch.âÂ
Thankfully it was the weekend and youâd get to spend the rest of your period in peace.
âStretch?â He asked as he opened the door to the building.
âYea,â you put a hand on your lower back. âMy back doesnât like when I hunch over so much.âÂ
König followed you inside and up the flight of stairs, all the way to your door, silent. Maybe you read his insistence on your well-being wrong, most men would rather not talk about women's periods, why should he be any different?Â
He was so close to you as you unlocked your door though, that you had to open it and partially step inside just to properly turn to face him. You were about to thank him, but he was leaning down almost in your face.
âWha-âÂ
He took your hands in his and looped them around his neck, âhold on.âÂ
âWhat?â
He then wrapped his arms tightly around your back and stood up straight, pulling you into a hug that lifted you off your feet.
You let out an involuntary groan as relief flooded you as your back released, the accompanying pop of your back cracking loud enough for both you and König to hear clearly.Â
He set you back down, glad of the mask hiding his burning face, and loosened his hold on you until his hands were softly resting on your hips.Â
You looked up at him, a bashful smile lighting your face as you continued to cling to him, your voice barely above a whisper. âThat felt really good.âÂ
His eyes went wide and he quickly pulled his hands back, blood thrumming at the little whimper that you let out when your arms fell away from him. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. If he didn't leave now, he'd do something inappropriate, like push you up against a wall and devour you. The thought stirred him until he looked at you again, at the way you pressed a hand to your lower belly in an attempt to alleviate some of the cramping, and reminded him that now was not the time.
âI should, uh, leave you to that shower.â
You hummed and smiled, âalright. Thanks for the help, gâni-â
â-And Iâll stop by to check on you in an hour.â
You breathed out a laugh, âyou really donât have to.â
âWill you eat?â
You made a face and groaned. While not nauseous enough to throw up from something as small as sipping water anymore, you werenât quite feeling like eating just yet. Though, maybe you were at the point of questioning whether you were nauseous because you werenât eating, or if you werenât eating because you were nauseous.Â
You opened your mouth to answer him, to tell him that youâd eat later, but he shook his head. âIâll bring you something to eat in an hour.â And he walked away before you could protest.
You sighed, well, his heart was in the right placeâŠ
-
You were feeling infinitely better after a hot shower, glad to put on your comfiest t-shirt and shorts and wait for König to show up with food. Just as he said, a little under an hour later he knocked on your door.Â
âI got you soup.â He said instead of a greeting when you answered, holding up a covered, steaming, glass container.Â
âThat actually sounds nice, thank you, König.âÂ
He smiled, the little creases around his eyes giving tale to it, behind his mask, as he walked in. âGood. I was afraid you would say you would eat later.âÂ
âI mean, itâs technically later now.âÂ
He shook his head and motioned towards the bar stools you had pushed up against the counter. âSit.âÂ
Heâd been over enough times to know where things were in your kitchen, and served up some of the soup with a glass of water. It was a light soup, mostly broth with finely diced vegetables.Â
âIs this what you eat when youâre sick?â You asked as he continued to move around your kitchen.
âI donât get sick.âÂ
You scoffed a laugh that you tried to play off as you blowing on the hot soup.
â...Yea.â He answered truthfully as he put a kettle on.
âNo shame in a good olâ Cup a Soup. I have some in the pantry, you didnât have to raid your stash for me.âÂ
âHad to make sure you would eat.âÂ
You laughed a little at that, surprised at how well he seemed to know you. You would feel a little guilty for not finishing a bowl if it were something that he brought over instead of what you just had sitting in your pantry.Â
âWhat kind of tea?â
âPeppermint. With two spoons of honey.âÂ
You were finished with your soup by the time he was done preparing your tea just the way you like.Â
Following a cute little exchange of an empty bowl for a fresh tea cup, he motioned to your room with a nod, âgo lay down. I will clean up.âÂ
âKay. Thank you.â You didnât argue with him this time, because all you really wanted to do anyway was climb in bed.Â
König followed after you just to grab your heating pad then headed back to the kitchen.
You were careful with placing your tea on the nightstand, close enough to reach while youâre in bed and but not too close to the laptop thatâs facing the bed.Â
âI have something for you,â König started as he came back, just as you settled down.
First he handed you your heating pad, which you were glad to pull under the covers with you. Then he held up your favorite candy bar, âfor when you feel better.âÂ
You chuckled, âaww, thank you, König!âÂ
He set that down next to your tea and shifted on his feet awkwardly before he looked at you again. âAnd this. Here.âÂ
He held out his hand in a loose fist towards you.
âHm?â You reached out to let him drop whatever it was into your palm.
You blinked at the slightly warmed metal in your hand and smiled when you looked down. A single key attached to a plain key ring.Â
König was looking up and away from you when you looked back at him, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stuttered out an explanation. âJust in case, yea? I want you to keep it.âÂ
âOkay,â you said softly and reached over to the nightstand and slipped it inside the drawer. âIâll keep it right next to me.âÂ
Königâs heart fluttered at how intimate the simple little gesture sounded and he was once again glad that his face was covered. âNeed anything else?â
You hummed and patted the bed next to you. âCuddles?â
His eyebrows shot up at your request. âI thought you didnât want to cuddle?â
âThat was last night! But if you donât want to cuddle, itâs fine. Iâm sure I have a plushie around here somewhere.â You sat up and glanced around your room, trying to remember where you stashed that cute teddy bear you had.
Before you could point out your bear, König moved around to the other side of the bed and lifted the blanket enough to slip under it, muttering for you to lay back down.Â
There was a bit of an awkward shuffle as he kicked off his boots and settled behind you, spooning you.
âAck, youâre on my shirt, youâre choking me!â You half laughed as you tried to pull the tail of your shirt from under him.
He cursed and pushed himself up long enough for you to free yourself. âWhy are you wearing such a big shirt?â
âItâs comfy!âÂ
âAnd where do you get such a big shirt?â He teased as he tugged on the excess material before settling his hand over the heating pad that was slipping, keeping it close to your abdomen.
âI stole it.â
âYou stole it? From who?â
âMmhm.â Then you paused to hit play on the movie you had picked out, âjustâŠsomeone.âÂ
Your ex. You didnât want to say it, didnât even want to think of your ex while wrapped up in Königâs arms, but your silence itself was loud enough for him to hear it.Â
âDo you do that often?â âWhat?â
âSteal other peopleâs clothes?â
You laughed, âwell, it is hard to resist a comfy shirt.âÂ
âLittle thief.â He teased in German, chuckling at your âwhat?!â that followed.
You were familiar with his nicknames enough that you picked up on the word âlittleâ but you didnât know the second word.Â
âOnly of comfy t-shirts!â you protested when he translated for you.
König chuckled and nudged you slightly, âwatch your movie.âÂ
He didnât pay attention to the movie, even if you did insist that it was good. He was too busy trying to figure out a way to tempt you with one of his shirts.Â
[Neighbor!König Masterlist]
Neighbor König taglist:Â
@warrior-of-justice @cumikering @ihateuguys @rand0m--fangirl @keiva1000 @dtftheavengers @takeyour-pants-off @aeeliy @milenko115 @sodonuthideout @onegami @nadiauddincrafts @nadiauddincrafts @grizzersmamma @flooftoof @techs-ass @virginalsacrifice @s0rc3r3r @sleeplessskeleton @introvered-violinist @tizylish @romula96 @peach-habibitch @mitchlow @queenotaku27 @fenixnegras @emmbny @love-dove-noora @lesbianmitsuri @supergirl16 @wybwtjmiadz @ghonigsloverbabe @thatmusedhatter @grassclippers @skystreamchan @lordlydragon @luvecarson @thetestsubject666 @mafer383 @darkangel4121 @puppylikethedog @trashitytrashitytrashÂ
#könig x reader#x reader#könig x fem reader#neighbor!könig#anonymous#received: July 22 2023#i do procrastinate but i get it done eventually#ahhhahah#sorry
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