#even if i was pretty much alone in that hostel

[hiskillingjar]

Glory Hole (Strade/MC)

*into a megaphone* my fetish for german men strikes again

i’m going to berlin in like three weeks and if i don’t get my dick sucked in a gay club, i’m gonna be mad as HELL.

day 21: glory hole second person. gay male reader. early 20s strade and takes place in the early 2000s.

"I'll only be gone for an hour!"

You had told your friends back at the hostel, while they were all relaxing after a heavy meal and too many glasses of beer, all getting ready for the guided tour tomorrow morning. 

It was probably the sensible choice, you knew that much, but it didn't feel right to have an early night on a Friday, especially not when you were in Berlin, one of the most famous "nightlife" cities in the world. You almost couldn’t believe that they were all passing that up to get an early night for a walk amongst the gravestones, or something equally boring like that.

You might have been a lame faggot who enjoyed all that historical shit too, but you weren't lame enough to let it completely derail your capacity to have a good time.

Just for an hour, you kept in your mind, as you left the hostel with the "Best Gay Clubs in Berlin" street map you had printed out back at home, several big ones close by circled in red - a 'must-attend’ sort of place, the blog post had stressed in bold typeface.

"Lachmannstraße," You murmured to yourself, a hand in your (freshly dyed, thank you very much) hair, peering from the map to the street signs you approached and doing your best not to be distracted by the students and rowdy tourists pouring out of theatres and bars to chase a similar high as you. "And then...mm, Urbanstraße. Yep, that's right."

'Keep your eyes out for the rainbow flag over the door', you had written on the map, and you squinted your eyes in the darkness to assess the row of doors and shops, lighting up when you spotted the rainbow flag in question.

You probably could have guessed that it was a gay bar, though, even without the pride paraphernalia. 

Pounding techno could be heard from where you were standing across the street, thumping loudly as a line stagnated outside to get in. One bouncer, a tall guy with a beard and gauges, was chatting and joking around with the more attractive types that tried to get into the club, most pretty bachelorettes that could charm their way in, while the other seemed a little less chill, keeping the… less appealing away with a firm hand.

That was fine, though.

You were good at chatting up bouncers back home (though your friends blamed your luck on your ‘twinkish good looks’ as opposed to being especially charming or good at conversation), and you had studied enough German in the previous semester to schmooze yourself through most conversations.

“Hello!” You greeted, a little too eager this late at night. “Price for…um, ticket, please!”

The stricter looking bouncer had spotted you approaching, crossing his arms and looking terse as he looked you up and down, seemingly ready to turn you away...until, he noticed the slight struggle you were having to speak German.

Shit. Maybe you weren’t as good at this as you expected.

"English, ja?" He asked, his tone and demeanour completely changed as he switched to a different language, smiling politely and seeming almost friendly now.

"Is it obvious?" You asked with a self-concious chuckle, in...okay, decent-ish German. Your accent could have used some work. "Busy tonight?"

He just chuckled and shook his head, waving you down to join him away from the long line.

"I could tell. I've become quite the expert at spotting tourists." He swapped back over to German, perhaps just to humour you (you had done all that practice, after all). "But...yes, busy tonight, as always. Though,” He gave you a quick once over with another smile. “I could possibly spare a spot inside for you, if you want. Skip the line, as it were. You here alone?"

"Alone," You nodded, beaming at his offer. "Nobody wanted to come out with me, hah. I’m in the hostel back on, mm, Lachmannstraße, so-"

"Hah! Well, their loss, I say." He laughed and shrugged, before putting a hand on your back and escorting you past the long line. "Sometimes it is better to go out alone. No limits that way, no?"

You barely suppressed a slight shiver at the hand on your back as he guided you into the club, into the cave of red light and pounding music that always made your head pulse. You couldn’t help it though, that’s what you told yourself, you were in a different country, experiencing new things, speaking a new language, and…well, the bouncer was a really good-looking guy. 

Built and an inch or two taller than you, dark features, hair past his shoulders, and a piercing through his nose. 

The kind of guy you always went crazy for.

"Thank you," You kept smiling, speaking over the music. "Um, ah...have an hour?” You said, your German becoming much worse all of a sudden. "Dance with me?"

He turned to look at you, his hand still on your back (drifting down the crease of it, where your shirt was slightly riding up) as he leaned in to speak directly in your ear.

"I have a better idea. Come with me," He murmured, his low voice sending another lovely shiver through your body and his hand moving to your hip, as he led you past the dance floor, through the throngs of people there. “I’ll show you a good time.”

You were almost starstruck as he pushed you ahead through the mass of grinding, dancing bodies, silently ecstatic that you were really hooking up with someone on a college vacation (like all the movies and books had spoken about, a real vacation romance!), before noticing that he was pushing you towards an LED 'WC' sign.

Okay, not exactly romantic. But still, pretty exciting.

He idly led you through to one of the stalls at the very end of the heavily graffitied bathroom (the only other attendees pissing in a urinal and making out against the sinks), nudging the door open with a kick of his boot and pushing you inside roughly, quickly shutting the door behind him, and locking it.

"Nhh!" You grunted as you stumbled back against the toilet, your body forced to straddle as your back hit the tile and piping roughly, painfully. “H-Hold on, can we just-”

"Relax, relax, don’t make so much noise, hm?" He murmured in a raspy whisper, a darker look crossing his eyes as he moved to pin you against the wall by your wrists, his larger body pressing against yours. "I'm sure there's better things you could be doing with that mouth, ja?"

"O-Oh," You stammered, eyes widening as you struggled against him. "N-No, I, uh...I'm sorry, I wasn't, um," You swallowed hard. "Ah, 'arbitten'? Soliciting?"

He just laughed at your attempts to struggle, his grip on your wrists tightening.

"Nein, you were not. You’re not wetlos enough to be doing that," He leaned down to speak in your ear again, his breath hot on your neck, making goose bumps rise on your skin as he said words you didn’t understand. "But you were certainly…mm, flirting, just a moment ago, outside, hm?"

"I wasn't...hah," You breathed out as his hips pressed against yours, trembling even more.

"No? So I must have...misheard you, then, ja?" He shrugged with an easy smile, before he forcefully moved your wrists above your head, holding them still with one hand as the other curled into the back of your hair, pulling it tightly as he pushed your body down onto your knees, expensive denim colliding with the wet ground. “Easy mistake to make. Don’t worry, I forgive you~”

God, you hoped that was just water.

"Ngh!" You grunted as he kept your head raised upwards and your wrists aloft. "E-Easy!"

He may have been about to speak, but you were both interrupted, however, by an idle knock on the (only) other side of the bathroom cubicle and your head strained against his firm grip to peer towards...a hole in the wall.

Well. This was a gay club, after all.

"Well…”

His attention turned, too, as he looked towards the knock and the telltale hole in the wall, before looking back down at you, a filthy chuckle escaping his smirking lips.

“It looks like we have some...company, don’t we?"

Your eyes widened slightly as he forced your head against the wall, the knock hard enough to rattle your brains in your skull, watching helplessly, through the hole, as the stanger on the other side started to unbutton his jeans.

"Couple?" The guy in the other cubicle asked, his accent thick but neither English or German.

"Yeah," The bouncer responded with an unseen nod, tightening his grip on your hair as he spoke, forcing your head to stay straight and his gaze remaining fixed on you. "Care to...ah, join us, ja?"

"He clean?" The guy asked gruffly.

"Mm, he looks it," He responded with an idle shrug, looking you over for a moment with a wry smirk, before looking back at the hole in the wall, like he was talking to the guy’s face. "Want to see for yourself, though?" He then asked as he pushed your still-pinned body closer to it.

His hand curled tighter in the back of your hair, forcing you closer towards the glory hole as the guy shoved his half flacid cock through it, dripping with coagulated pre-cum and grime.

This guy was a real fucking hypocrite, asking if you were clean.

"Go on...show him what that mouth can really do~"

Stuck between a rock and a hard place (figuratively and, somewhat, literally), you swallowed down your complaints and pride with a silent grimace and opened your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out and idly smoothing it down the wrinkled head of the guy’s cock and foreskin.

"Upff," You groaned at the taste, eyes watering as you struggled not to gag, all while the guy moaned and groaned himself, and braced himself against the cubicle wall, pushing himself further into your mouth and down your throat.

"Take well at both ends?” The guy murmured through a groan. “Might need to test...make sure..."

You squeezed your eyes shut at the lewd suggestion (and the grody taste of aged semen rubbing into your tongue, there was no way in hell you would ever let this guy fuck you, not in a million years), your thighs tensing together as the bouncer held your head still, snickering to himself.

“You know Americans,” He murmured, letting go of your wrists (he didn’t need to hold you still when he was standing in front of the only exit) to rub at his own growing bulge, idly squeezing himself as you bobbed your head up and down, your forehead and nose bumping against the cubicle wall. “They act like prudes but they’re desperate for it, ja?”

You moaned your complaints against the soft flesh between your lips, but you could feel a worrying heat begin to pool at your core and your own cock twitch in your jeans.

Fuck. How were you getting turned on by this?

The older man’s eyes flickered from your gagging lips and down to your thighs, tensing and squirming as you planted your hands against the cubicle wall and started to work your mouth up and down the other guy’s cock…barely with any help at all. “Mm, I knew you’d be the deseprate sort,” He murmured, his voice giving away a deep amount of praise as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his own cock, dark and thick and fuck, you would have much prefered going down on him than some grimy stranger. “You liiike iiiit~ How cute!”

You moaned again, your eyes locked on his hand, idly jerking up and down his length, as you forced yourself to move quicker against the glory hole, just wanting this all to be over with.

“Ah ah, not too fast, mein herr…let yourself savour it, hm?”

[k-dokja]

Sally and a conversation you didn’t want to have.

“Can’t you do something about it?”

Sally’s question came the days after Eli left for the Workers. If you said you were caught off-guard when she cornered you with it, you’d be lying. In truth, you have very little care for her grievance when Yenna is this pretty in your arms. The new dress you bought for her fit perfectly and she smiles so sweetly at you that all else fails to matter.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know,” she confesses, “Anything is better than nothing. Besides, you know their leader, don’t you?”

You set Yenna down next to you on the couch when she begins to reach out for the toys you set at the other side. She grabs hold of a teddy bear you’ve bought for you and squeezes it tight. You watch while she shakes the toy up and down, vaguely aware of the conversation ongoing.

“So?” You say. “You want me to visit President Yoo and sweetly ask him to ‘return’ Eli and Warren? Maybe ask him to cease all illegal activity while I’m at it?”

She frowns, “No, but—”

“Mama, look!”

Yenna holds up one of the toys to you. It’s a pretty thing, a rabbit plush you bought for her during your trip to Switzerland. She shakes it with such a vigor that you think it’d go flying if her hold slips. You smile sweetly at her when she crawls over to you with it, “Yes, honey?”

“Mama, have toy?” Yenna pushes the toy towards you. There is a cheer on her face that leaves you in awe at how precious she is. You accept her offering graciously, picking her up and setting her on your lap with the toy.

“Aw, thank you, baby,” you coo, “you always know how to make Mama happy.”

With your smile brightened, you glance at Sally, “Yenna wouldn’t ask Mama to do something unreasonable to bring back Papa, right? For example, Yenna won’t think just because Mama has money, Mama can do anything. Like buying Papa and Uncle Warren back from Workers for examples.”

The lightness in your words vanish when you hug Yenna close to your chest, hiding her from the expression you gives Sally. “Can you imagine how would Papa feel if Mama did that? That’s not even thinking about the cost it would take to bring them both back. At least billions for both of them.”

Sally bites down on her bottom lip. Her fists clench. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I just—“

“I know.” You stroke Yenna’s back, dropping a kiss on her hair. “I don’t like this either but nothing you’ve come up with is anything I haven’t considered. This isn’t a matter you can deal with using money, no matter how people make you think money can solve every problems in the world.”

Your smile deforms into a sardonic smirk, “Although for this situation, I think the correct resolution would be a big enough amount of money. But unfortunately, I can’t simply shell out that much without raising several alarms with my parents. I doubt they’d see the concept of buying people’s employment contract in a positive light when said people are only minors.”

Gently, you add. “I want to help, too, I do. But it’s not a simple matter. We can only hope that whoever working on dismantling Workers will succeed. Even then, there is no guarantee that Eli and Warren will come out intact. It’s out of our hands, Sally. This is bigger than Hostel.”

“…You’re right.”

You blink, surprised to hear her easy admittance. “Hm? About what?”

“This is bigger than Hostel,” Sally says with resolution in her eyes, “we can’t deal with this alone, and I know who can help this.”

With those words spoken, she strides out of the room, leaving you confused as to what previously played out. Knowing there is no use to speculating, you sigh. It’s far better this way. If you use your money to help with their problems for everything, there is no saying what will happen to your future relationship with them. Besides, you’ve done what you can to arrange the paperwork for Like What and So Funny. Within the next few days, they should be assimilated in an ongoing program. As for Yenna…

“Mama? Yenna’s baba?”

You smile down at her. It is easy to find comfort in her big round eyes when she looks at you so earnestly. “Yenna’s baba will be fine,” you reassure her, not trusting a single word you said, “he must.”

[enjoythesilentworld]

I can’t believe I almost missed the chance to ask you to write smth. That’s what I get for having a busy tumblr dash. Anyway. “Join me” as a prompt pls? 💜

hello my darling Lia. you know i'd write anything you asked me to. for today, here's a (not) little ficlet in which Simon neglects to read the fine print and somehow it actually turns out really well for him.

💜enjoy xx

Alone in a foreign country, Simon must find a stranger to join him on the romantic couples food tour he’s accidentally booked. (a 2.3k strangers to lovers, fake dating, speed-run of an AU) if you see this again for day 2 of simon's month dont worry bout it

Simon curses under his breath as the confirmation email comes in.

So, he’d booked the food tour a little quickly, possibly without reading all the fine print. He can’t even blame a language barrier because he’s in Spain and, thanks to his mamá, his Spanish is really better than his English.

The solo-travel thing had been a bit of a last-minute decision. Spurred by the post university graduation crisis of, ‘Oh Fuck What Am I Doing With My Life?’ whichled twenty-somethings around the globe to grab a backpack and buy a one-way plane ticket. Simon’s decision was also encouraged by the fact that he’d woken up one day and realized he was in a toxic relationship, quickly packing his bags and saying Hejdå to a two-year relationship. He’s only about three weeks into the whole self-discovery shtick, but it seems to be going well so far. He enjoys the independence of it all. Not that he’s not independent at home — in fact, he’s been a little bit too much of an adult since he was 10 — but more so that he doesn’t have to worry about anyone else. Simon goes to museums when he wants to, stays for as little or as much time as he wants. He eats when he wants, goes to shows he likes, and doesn’t spend every second of every day worrying about everyone else. (Of course, he’s called his mama and sister nearly every day since he left, but he’s working on it.) He also, apparently, incorrectly books guided food tours that are actually romantic couples excursions. 

Glancing around the nearly empty breakfast room at his hostel, he chews on his options. One is to show up to this tour alone and look like a dumb tourist. Two is to find someone willing to go on it with him.

There’s a pair of British girls in the corner, giggling over their plates of breakfast. Simon recognizes them from the stand-up comedy show the hostel had organized the night before; they’d been attached at the hip the whole night. Slim chance of separating them. Crowding around the cereal bar is a group of American guys who all look like fraternity brothers. If Simon remembers correctly, he’d overheard some vile words from them in the bar last night, and so he’s is not too keen on participating in any sort of tour with any of them, romantic or not.

The only other person in the room is sitting a few seats down at the communal table: a very good-looking man with light auburn hair and high cheek bones. His long fingers, nails painted a deep purple, hold up a book with one hand and gingerly lift a coffee cup to his lips with the other. He’s dressed quite casually, in an un-done button up over a tank-top and baggy trousers, but somehow makes it look refined. Simon noticed him yesterday afternoon in the hostel café, noticed the way the man’s eyes tracked Simon from across the room.

His pretty brown eyes are no longer locked on the pages of the book, but have found Simon again and caught him staring. Simon forces himself to hold his ground and smiles, glancing down at the book title. It’s by a Swedish author, he realizes, and a gay Swedish author at that.

Gesturing with his head, Simon asks, “Is it good?”

The pretty man places his coffee cup down clumsily. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“I’ve read it a million times,” he says, closing the book. “I’m Wille.” 

The light blush on his cheeks is endearing.

“Simon.”

Wille smiles softly and nods, “Trevligt.”

He’s polite and looks suspiciously rich to be in this hostel, but his eyes are kind and has a rainbow pin on his tote bag so, before Wille can say anything else, Simon slides one chair closer.

“Are you doing anything today, Wille?”

Wille moves to the chair across from Simon. “Nope.”

Simon props his head on both his hands and gazes at this beautiful stranger, wondering why he didn’t speak to him the day before. “Would you like to join me on a romantic food tour around Barcelona?”

Wille quirks an eyebrow, then mirrors Simon’s position. “I would love to.”

The tour doesn’t begin for a few hours, so they sit and chat while the breakfast room fills up around them. Wille laughs when Simon explains how he’s gotten himself into this situation, and the sound sets little sparks bursting in Simon’s chest. What luck he’s had this morning.

Simon learns that Wille is also at the beginning of a self-discovery trip, running away from a family legacy and a desk job he desperately did not want. He also learns that Wille is incredibly funny and quite flirty, though whenever Simon starts flirting back he becomes incredibly flustered. His stare, though, is the thing that gets Simon the most. Wille looks at him so intently, gaze flitting between Simon’s eyes and his mouth, listening to every word and seemingly staring directly into Simon’s soul. It would be troubling if he wasn’t so goddamn beautiful.

The conversation flows so easily between them that Simon, so wrapped up in Wille’s laugh and crooked teeth, almost forgets they have somewhere to be.

They walk quickly through the streets of Barcelona together, heading towards the café at which they’re meant to meet the rest of their tour group. Wille’s fingers brush against Simon’s a few times, though his voice never falters, so Simon isn’t sure if it’s just him that feels the jolt of electricity each time.

“You said this is a romantic food tour?” Wille asks, reaching out to pull Simon out of the way of a passing cart.

The city is bustling with life around them, the sun shining hot between the buildings, people hanging off balconies, chatting with neighbors or stringing up laundry to dry. It’s absolutely beautiful, and somehow it seems a bit more colorful than it had the day before.

“Yes.”

“Is it going to be obvious that you and I just met?” he says, letting Simon go ahead of him to squeeze through the crowd, staying close, with a hand hovering over Simon’s lower back.

“Well,” Simon muses, “we could make it a bit of a game. If you’re down.”

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Wille’s eyes light up with mischief. “I’m down. What kind of game?”

Simon chuckles and shrugs, checking his phone to make sure they’re still headed in the right direction. “We could pretend to be a couple. You know, really put on a show.”

“That sounds very, very fun, Simon.”

For the last ten or so minutes of their walk, they establish some basic rules. They’ll hold hands and gaze lovingly in each other’s eyes and ramble to anyone who asks about their beautiful love story. The goal is to one-up every other couple there by acting sickeningly in love. By the time they make it to the café, only a few minutes late, they’re holding onto each other and cackling at the increasingly ridiculous ‘meet-cute’ ideas they’ve come up with.

There are three other couples in the tour: one looks like a very young newly-wed couple, another is a pair of middle-aged ladies, and the third is a pretentious-looking, older couple who already look fed up with everyone else. As the tour-guide starts on their spiel, Wille wraps a tender arm around Simon, pulling him close and whispering jokes into his ear, somehow making them look more like a couple than even the newly-weds.

They sit down to start, and Wille lets Simon order for them off the selected menu. They feed each other bites of tomato toast and gently wipe crumbs from each other’s cheeks, all the while giggling to each other and only half-listening to the explanations of the food. It also seems they’ve unintentionally started a competition with the other young couple of who-can-look-more-in-love. When Wille hands Simon a napkin before he can even ask to wipe up his splashed juice, the man of the other couple tries to lovingly whisper something in his wife’s ear but gets brushed off as she’s too busy listening intently to the tour guide. When Simon holds out a forkful of potato omelette for Wille, the man tries to do the same, but his wife shakes her head, smiling, and fondly pats his cheek then turns back to her own plate.

As they move through the next few stops — a restaurant, a food cart, and an open-air market — he and Wille fall even further into their ‘game’. There’s plenty of very intentional touches and exchanged loving glances, but Wille also asks Simon about himself. About his family and his dreams and where he’s going next. Simon learns even more about Wille’s obsession with frogs and his love for lakes and his passion for writing. The rest of the tour group fades away, and things between them start to feel a little less like a game and a little more real. The prolonged eye contact becomes less playful and more loaded. The lingering touches become less out of competition and more out of some deep urge. Simon’s eyes flick more often down to Wille’s lips, watching him lick cream off his fingers or clean gazpacho off his spoon.

Maybe it’s the wine, but as they head to their last stop of the day, hand in hand, trailing behind the group, Simon finds himself hoping Wille isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He’d made a few friends over the past few weeks, but it always seemed to work out that when he was having a great time, the person would be leaving the very next day, heading off to some new country or heading back home.

Wille grins over at him and points out a pretty sculpture, mumbling something smart about the artist and looking absolutely ethereal in the light of the early evening with his flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Maybe it isn’t just the wine.

Their final destination is small tapas place on the beach. Simon and Wille have given up any pretense of listening to the tour guide or of playing their little game. Instead, they sit close at their table and chat about their favorite memories growing up and tell embarrassing stories. Simon, as he’s done at every place, translates every bit of Spanish on the menu and giggles helplessly as he corrects Wille’s pronunciation. They share a plate of pulpo and split a liter of sangria and it’s one of the most perfect days Simon’s ever experienced.

“I’m really glad I misread that website,” Simon says, fiddling with his fingers. When he glances up, he finds Wille grinning at him. He takes Simon’s hand.

“Me too.”

After the tour concludes and their guide bids they all farewell, their group mostly scatters. But, Wille and Simon stay at their table, finishing off their pitcher and becoming increasingly rowdy with their jokes. After a few annoyed looks from their waiter, they collect their things and stumble down to the beach. Simon jumps onto Wille’s back, laughing loudly and savoring the feeling of Wille’s strong hands wrapped securely around his legs. Wille wades out into the shallow water of the beach, and Simon yelps when he pretends to nearly drop them both into the cool water.

Eventually, Wille lets him down but takes his hand instead, and they walk down the sand, talking about the food tour and realizing that they maybe didn’t pay attention at all.

There’s a warm buzz in Simon’s body, making him giddy and calm all at once. When they make it to a small concrete pier, Wille pulls him out to the edge of it and they stand, arms wrapped around each other, staring out at the Mediterranean.

Simon sigh happily. “Beautiful.”

“Yeah. Very,” Wille says breathlessly, and Simon looks up to see Wille staring down at him. He smacks Wille’s chest playfully.

“You’re an idiot, Wille.”

Wille laughs, “I’m being serious!”

“Sure,” Simon hums, turning back to the water, biting back a smile.

“Hey.” He turns back again and Wille’s face has sobered, and he’s now gazing down at Simon with that same intense stare. “You are beautiful, Simon. You’re also funny and kind and— I had a really, really great time today.”

He squirms slightly at the force of the words, the conviction in Wille’s tone, but can’t help but let his eyes flicker down to Wille’s lips. He’s so close and looks so pretty in the cool lighting of the twilight evening and Simon’s never thought it could be possible to fall for someone like this, this hard, in one day.

“Me, too,” Simon whispers. Then, “Wille?”

“Yes?”

“Can I—”

Wille nods, gasping, “Yes,” before Simon can even finish his sentence and then they’re both rushing forward.

Finally, after thinking about it nearly all day, Wille’s lips connect with his. He tastes like fruity wine and olives and something so Wille, and Simon melts into his arms, coming up onto his tiptoes to press further into him. Wille’s hair is soft under his fingertips and though they’ve basically been touching all day, this is different and overwhelming and everything.

When they break apart, giggling into each other, the lights have come on along the paved pathway by the beach.

“Maybe we should head back?” Wille suggests, looking just as much like he doesn’t want to head back as Simon feels. But, it’s getting late and he’s also starting to feel tired from all the wine and walking, so Simon nods and takes Wille’s hand again.

They trail slowly back through the streets, pausing occasionally to exchange a quick kiss, or to slip into an alcove and exchange a slightly longer one. By the time they make it back to their building, Simon’s limbs feel syrupy with sleep and his chest feels warm with the events of the day.

Two steps up the stairs to the front door of the hostel, Simon stops and turns.

“Where will you be tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at Wille.

Wille smiles. “Wherever you are.”

[spacemilkies]

stages

pairing: könig x reader

rqt: [] yes [x] no

wc: 3.4k+

a/n: sat around thinking about what i wanted for this man. and despite my own personal aversion. i thought kids

synopsis: everything important came in stages, and it was worth each one

warnings: nondescript at the beginning and pretty chill through the rest. 

i.

he doesn’t get to have you like this often. with the sudden resurgence of al-qatala activity, the two of you are tasked more often than you are off duty. It was the first time in a while you had recounted actually using as many weapons that you secured and made inventory on. you could still feel the grime and dust from gunpowder pricking your finger tips as they picked and plucked at your clothing. 

könig was equally as grungy and hasty as he tugged his skin tight thermal over his head, revealing a new constellation of interlocking scars and bruises. it was less of a safehouse and more of a hostel takeover as multiple units congregated to get some much needed shut eye. rest would come days late again, but at least numbers promised some security. 

but the two of you had unresolved matters to attend to after weeks apart. 

words have no sentiment, lost in the harsh pants and the mangle moans wrangled from each of your chests. his mouth is at your neck, lips plump and distracting as his hips snap into yours over and over. 

there is no precarious set up to the familiar dance. you’re wet enough from strangled desire alone, his thumb curling to stretch where accommodation is needed. its rash and unthinking, but yesterday you could have been dead and tomorrow is still not promised. 

right now, all you know is his heat and the taste of him in your mouth as he spills inside. you’re dizzy from your orgasm and unable to grasp anything past the burly man weighing you down. 

ii. 

nothing ever comes to a definitive conclusion. the simultaneous attacks have been divided and isolated to periodic interruptions of peace. there is no official schedule, but assignments are better distributed and you finally have the opportunity to handle inventory. 

the first time you step into the warehouse, you welcome the musk of steel and wood and get straight to work. too many hands have touched your weapons, you can tell. horangi’s kastov has brunt trauma versus it’s usual scuffs, as if someone had used it to breach a door rather than a body. it would take days to catalogue it all and you were already forty-eight hours into the mess. 

but after weeks on the move, it was a welcomed challenge. 

you’re uncapping a new shipment of polish when the first wave hits you. its an unusual lurch that has you darting away from the table in fear that you might burst all over your work. it takes careful breathing to reign it in, but even that doesn't feel like enough, as just the thought of petroleum would be enough to purge a week's worth of meals. 

it’s a fluke.

maybe stale bread or a bad egg. 

you would just save polishing for another day. 

there were more important things to worry about than an upset stomach.

iii.

könig has you by the hips before you roll into the sparse space left onto the couch cushion. he welcomes you into his lap, knees spread to accommodate both you and the bowl of popcorn. the austrian had cornered you during your impromptu meeting with declan about the worsening recoil on his lockwood. as if you were to blame for the bruises he acquired from hip firing the thing. 

könig was a welcomed sight, easily spotted from afar when he wanted to be and easily agreeable to when he offered up late night movies and swiss chocolates. the irishman scoffed but knew when he was on the losing end of a fight. there was nothing secretive about your relationship anymore, but you kept it tight where it was needed so no issues arose.

settled now, you carefully peeled back the wrapping of one as the man surfed through the selection of movies. freeing the sugar soaked cocoa, you brought it to your lips only to pause with a bated breath. 

the incident with the gun oil hadn't been as isolated as you’d expected, nor as frequent as an illness. it was an odd splotching of uncontrolled nausea from the oddest aromas. after a cautious sniff, however, you found that at least your favourites were still welcomed in your body. 

you hadn’t realised your speculation had gained an audience until the chest behind you rumbled with a snort. 

“i’m glad my selection pleases you, prinzessin.”

rolling your eyes, you take an ever bigger bite out of both relief and spite, if he had any intentions of sharing. you chewed thoughtfully, savouring your stomach’s grace and mercy. 

“i knew it would … i just..” you pause, not out of worry but sheer bewilderment of where the symptoms even spawned from. it was possible you had ingested something unagreeable during your tours. the amount of dust, grime and explosive activity sure to shift something after weeks of exposure. 

“—got nauseous earlier is all. of gun oil of all things.”

that had to be the strangest occurrence. the idea of you possibly being allergic to your job almost having comedic value. 

apparently not almost as könig shook with unrestrained humour. 

“i tell you often that you remain cooped up too often. perhaps i will come get you more frequently.”

you think of nights like these, cuddled and warm. and decide that a future of that wouldn’t be so bad.

iv.

you’re late.

but not in the way that could get you court martial if you had been under your prior service. its the kind of delay that is behind by nearly two weeks rather than a day or two. 

it's the kind of late that has you in disbelief, disarray and discombobulated in equal stages. 

it's the kind of late that has you rushing off base to the convenience store 6 flicks away in the middle of the night, eyes frantic as you dart down the aisles before snatching four boxes of the same commodity. 

it's the kind of late that has you pacing in your bathroom, grateful that you have the small space to yourself despite wanting it to be filled until you're suffocating. 

it's the kind of late that has you wanting to break protocol as your gaze snaps from the four mirrored sticks of plastic laid neatly on your bathroom counter to your room where your phone lays tossed on your bedspread with your keys. 

it's the kind of late that makes you wonder for the first time, how can you grasp an uncertain future and hold it tight. 

v.

you go to the on-site doctor before könig because it’s protocol and he’s still out on assignment. there was a brief thought to call, but its always dangerous to interrupt zero dark without emergency. 

you’re left sitting in the stiff, cold office when you learn that it hardly be much of a discussion anyway. you weren’t just late, you were well into your first trimester, meaning your only option was what to consider after birth. 

they start with reviewing the percent efficiency of the standard issue implant and how nothing is up to one hundred probability. in the end, you were all adults and took risks daily. this one objectively wouldn't kill, but it was still an endangerment.

they send you home with a supplement prescription and a new note in your file. it would be on your commander’s desk before you crossed the threshold but your fate had been sealed weeks ago. there would be talks about job security, both short term and long term. 

you had a temporary place off the field but that wasn’t always secure and no place for your very new future. 

this was a time where you should be contemplating how you would mitigate the expectation of a civilian while still being rooted in the mindset of a soldier. besides könig, you should be reaching out to family. but instead, you were stuck wondering when.

you are swept into the peak of sweltering sheets and the prickle of humidity. a night of muted passion and tangled legs.you remember the taste, the feel and

him.

he’s back. uniform wrinkled in a way that's only excused post mission. his forehead is crinkled, but only in small lines that means it's the visage of you standing alone in the hallway that has his immediate concern.

he’s back but you haven’t even learned your commission fate from your commander. 

he’s back and you’re suddenly feeling nauseous all over again. 

he’s back, arms curling around you, lips probing for comfort rather than questions. 

he’s back and you never want him to leave again.

vi. 

you tell him, because how could you not?

and he worries, because why would he not?

the gesture is both comforting and driving you insane. because it’s no longer your problem but a collective predicament that will have two heads to solve. you’re not young but not quite old enough to consider retirement this early. per your commander, you still had one too many years left of good use and it would be a damn shame to waste. 

but you were clearly no longer fit for duty in your temporary state. so unfit that your ailment was a hard kept secret. 

it’s fender who notices first because he’s nosy and has too much time on his hands. 

he points it out first as a jest, then goes comically quiet when you don’t return it with a joking dismissal. instead you stare him down, because quite frankly at this point, you're ready to get over this stage so that you can start focusing on more important matters. 

fender nearly keels running into könig arriving with lunch. there was never the question of who but having both pieces of the same equation in front of him was too much for him to comprehend apparently. 

könig is left to watch the man’s hasty departure while you pick apart a sandwich. 

“i have my deployment preferences scratched for the next three months.”

you wince as you pluck away a condiment. there were small privileges that came for contracting to a pmc. it came with flexibility in some areas and rigid in others. what was determined was you were in a contract and obligations were pre-negotiated. könig had offered to take on the task of filling in where your biology would infringe on some agreements.

contractually, it would help for now but personally he would be missed. 

eventually, you would be deemed too unfit and unsafe for placement on base and advised to move to civilian accommodation until you could return to duty. for you that meant a country length away.

könig was unperturbed when his thumb swiped through stray mustard as it stroked your cheek. it's sharp enough to cut through the distress dragging you down.

“it will be alright. we will make this work.”

vii.

eventually you would come to comfort him. 

it became evident in your absence that you were holding each other up. könig was a man of resilience, boasting both body and mind. but in times like these, old worries and anxieties wrested even the most resolved mindsets until they were a phantom of what it was. 

late under the moon, while you sat by the window overlooking the bustling city, könig voiced his uncertainties of an expectant father. 

“we will not be able to both be there. i should be there, childhood was hard.”

könig only spoke of his past in broken spurts of history. he regarded it as his stepping stones but every piece was still a fragile reminder of his foundation. könig used the everyday fears of the job to compartmentalise it all, taking on the more prominent issues to lay rest to the others. 

but now in the quiet of the night on the other side of the world, he had nothing but you and his shadows to keep him warm and sane. you hope your words can embrace him in the thick of it, wrapping him in a blanket of security with no ending thread.

“even in absence, they will feel the love. as i do now.”

it wasn't a direct omission but one of the first vocalisations. for the longest, the two of you thrived on mutual affection; cutting a space in the thralls of war to fit in the tender emotion. it was something that grew both metaphorically and actually into a manifestation of something that had been cultivated for months. 

through the speaker, könig breathes a shuddering breath before the next exhale comes with the strength you know him by. 

“they will know nothing else.”

and you were assured that neither would you. 

viii.

you could handle very little from this far away. occasionally they would send requisition forms for review. but without a proper visual of the actual inventory you were nothing more than a second signature. after a while it began to feel more like pity and you delegated the tasks all together. 

you tried to focus more on preparations. the flat you resided in had been purchased prior to your contract. it was a single home, for a sole individual but you made extra space out of your former study. objectively it was way too small, but for now you appreciated the tight corners. 

there was more for you to knock into and less space for you to get lost in. 

it had been nearly two weeks since you’d last heard from könig. he often called when he could and sent texts when he couldn’t. but lately he had been deployed more frequently than usual.

it wasn't meant to be seen as a punishment. not too long ago, you had all been in a similar predicament, but as the odd man out you could help but feel penalised. 

your back aches and your feet are swollen. occasionally your appetite would leave and return with a new address. some days you liked blue and the next you wished you had gone with yellow. 

it wasn't fair, but the second heartbeat thudding beneath your navel reminded you that sacrifices gave you something to rise from the ashes.

and when könig resurfaced there would be something for him to be proud of.

ix.

you finally manage to reach könig one week and the following you stumble head first into labour. it's a rush of too many voices and the wrong hands holding yours. you’ve dealt with pain before but the supposed beauty of birth was a thorn with roses. 

you want them to call him, but they want you to pace your breathing. 

you need them to make sure he knows, but they need you to push. 

you see darkness, but you all hear the cry.

you wake to a new type of hurt in your boy thats unlike anything you've experienced. you feel like you're too exhausted to even begin to comprehend the weight of it siting on your bones. blearily, you realise its not an encompassing pressure, but more of a centralised mass settled on your chest. 

when your eyes open, you're welcomed by the most beautiful sight you've ever witnessed. 

she’s so small. 

so so small. the tiniest part of the world that you've ever wanted to protect with your whole being. your finger tips whisper against her skin as rouses to the stimuli.

“i’m so happy to meet you.”

and you couldn't wait for him to meet her too. 

x. 

after a third day under observation, they let you take her home. your mother wishes for you both to join her, but she concedes with frequent visits. any fight you had was pushed out of you as you allow her to tidy your home while you feed.

it had been awhile since she’d last asked but now that a face is here, half your and half unrecognisable the inquiries are back.

“i just wonder if it's best for you two to be alone here. it's quite the trip with traffic to get here.”

you're too tired to refute her and too exasperated to concede. könig had only been here once, during a brief overlay between assignments. long enough to warm the bed but too quick to make an impression. it hardly felt like a vacation, more like a rest stop to rejuvenate and gather resources. 

but he knew where it was and that was enough so you would stay. 

it was nearing a month but he would surface soon. 

your mother had her worries but you had baby that was crying, therefore you had bigger ones. 

xi.

you wake to a tickle of your nose and the taste of chocolate and gunpowder. it's so familiar yet shockingly foreign. over the course of the last few days, it had only been milk, meat cuts and gatorade. enough so that it throws you out of bed, seeking a defensive stance for the first time in what feels like ages. you feel like a bad mother. it had only been a brief nap, a rest for your eyelids. and now you weren't alone.

“it's alright, liebling. it is only me.”

you should be concerned. someone snuck into your home, slunk through the shadows while your baby slept. motherhood had made you so acutely aware but equally wrung you out. in another case it would have been a disaster. 

but in this reality. 

he was here. 

even in the dark, you can witness the exhausted affection and excitement wrestling on his face. it was enough to assure you that he had seen her, the reaction too great to conceal. frankly, it was a surprise she hadn’t woken from the strange shadow falling over her crib. the change in the wind was enough to make her restless and hungry as of late. 

“she’s beautiful. you did such an amazing job.”

its been a week of trials. days where you would would wake to alarms just to let mouth latch onto your body. long nights where you would chug electrolytes and remind yourself to eat before you passed out. there were times you felt like maybe wasn't enough. 

but in one sentence he assured you that you are the best mother in the world. 

you're so so tired but you want to tell him everything and ask more. 

he knows, but he’s also aware of how worn you both are. his gaze flickers to the monitor situated between your phone and the clock as if he could visualise the stress lines it had been put through already. 

könig does not speak as he eases himself next to you, curling himself around your body as he rests his temple against yours.

“we made a baby,” you can’t hold it back, because it's the first time you've uttered it with him in the same reality. his laugh tickles your ear as he repeats it back to you. 

for the first time, it's the three of you in your tiny apartment. 

and finally you have a taste of a promising future. 

xii

he’s in your too small kitchen, that feels even tighter but in a warm comforting way. you might have slept through an intrusion but the sharp cry of your baby will never fail to rouse you from the deadliest sleep. 

könig roused slower, not use to the odd sounds but coming to complete awareness as he puts together the pieces. he followed you as you rounded to the study-turned-nursery only to slow as you carefully lifted her into your arms. 

at night he’d gotten a glimpse, evidence in the form of certainty that she was really here. but not he glimpsed the actuality of it all. the living, breathing manifestation of the best parts of you. he had been hesitant at first, thumb larger than her round cheek as he stroked the soft skin. 

now he held her close with gaining confidence as he leaned comfortably against the skylit window while you prepared breakfast. you had talked him into discarding his shirt, preaching about skin on skin contact. 

his concerns were cute, worried about ragged scars and hard edges. arguably you’d softened over the last few months, but you promised that your daughter was more robust than that. his curiosity overthrew his anxiousness and everything else melted away the moment her tiny head settled against the crook of his arm. 

his cheeks were still flushed with emotion, visibly nervous but confident enough with is grasp to assure her safety. there would be no force that would be able to separate them, not when he had his eyes on her like that. 

he looks up and catches you watching, eyes big as if he wanted to capture every detail. 

and there are. 

so many intricate little features. 

too many to count and still too many to come. 

but they would arrive.

one by one in stages.  

[call-sign-shark]

Shark in the UK 🦈

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

Hi everyone,

As you might have noticed I was pretty silent since my arrival in the UK. I must admit that I have been through a lot of stress and changes in a very short amount of time and it's only now that I'm finally getting used to this new situation. Below you'll find a detailed post of my adventures so far, so if you are not interested you can simply ignore this and just keep in mind that I'll be returning to my posting schedule and fan-fictions very soon. For those who are curious, fasten your motherfucking seat-belts.

While I'm not an organized person I become one when I have something important planned so I was so well prepared for this journey that I was convinced I was safe from any misadventures... How wrong I was. I was barely done with the security controls at the airport when I realized they literally broke my phone's screen. I don't know if they bumped it or not but they broke it. The same phone in which I had my boarding pass. It obviously happened the only time I didn't print my plane tickets as I usually do. :) Fortunately, my best friend had lent me his old iPhone minutes before "just in case". I managed to airdrop my boarding pass on the second phone and took the plane without trouble despite the flight being delayed by one hour.

Upon my arrival in UK, I took a taxi to the hotel and had a nice time alone. I brought myself to the restaurant and peacefully slept, getting psychologically ready to meet my host family, and oh boy. This is... Something.

When I heard the word "host family" I imagined it to be an actual family, and a bit like when you're an au pair. Retrospectively, it's completely stupid because it was never written but idk my mind went full "ok I'll live with a local family". What a surprise it was when I knocked at the door and was welcomed by one lonely man and the very acrid smell of cigarettes that jumped at my face! While my host dad (@rysko @red-riding-wood @kittenonpluto pimp nickname they said) was extremely nice and welcoming, the more he showed me around the more my face dropped. I wasn't going to spend months in a local family but in an old house more or less laid out like a hostel. A hostel with a strong cigarette smell almost everywhere, five other girls, one dude, and dirt. The differences between my expectations and reality were huge and, as you can imagine, the pill was difficult to swallow. I swear when he opened the door I was this close to run away lmao.

Between my accommodations and the new rhythm of the international school I'm studying in, my mind went completely foggy for a few days. I didn't know what to think or what to feel anymore. Worse, I didn't know if my money was well-spent or if I just got scammed. Now, read what follows before you call me "ungrateful" or "princess-like".

It’s not what I got that made me feel bad, but rather the stupid and nonsensical expectations I had in mind. Then, I slowly realized that it wasn't because I hadn't expected it and that it couldn't be fun. Maybe it had a lot to do with how nice the five other girls and the people at my school are, but I started // I am starting to really enjoy it. The house might be old and not "that clean" (or at least not as clean as I'm used to), but the host dad is lovely, cooks for us every day, we have fast wifi, are close to the school, we have a key and are free to come and go as much as we want without a curfew, and the bedrooms, as well as the toilets, are clean. To be honest, some students have it really worse. I mean, I'm talking about students having to sleep in a room crowded with 7 people, or having to sleep on a mattress on the ground, the host family asking them to buy and cook their own food to the extent of some even locked the kitchen's door at night to avoid the student snacking/stealing food at night. Or students who are on 1 hour of bus-trip long from the school — those conditions I find absolutely disgusting for the extremely expensive price the students have to pay for this language exchange. With everything said, I consider myself lucky despite the cigarette smell and the "clean but not really clean" house.

As I'm writing this, it's Saturday 10 am and I can finally say it: I'm happy to be here, it's a one-life experience and I'm incredibly lucky my parents offered it to me. Unfortunately, I've caught a very bad cold and I've been sick since Wednesday: I think the combination of my emotional rollercoaster, the crazy British weather, my fatigue and half of my classroom being sick have finished me off. Now I can't wait to get better to start attending to a shitton of activities, planning trips around, and going to the pub. Also, I've got my nails done! Look at my freakin' sharp claws teehee.

Congratulations if you're still there by the way, lmao! Thank you for reading my nonsense. I'll be back very soon, both for writing and commenting, just wait for my cold to get better!

Love,

Shark.

tagging some moots: @zablife @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @peakyltd

[plantsarepeopletoo]

Control, Mew, and Top

So I got the idea of control from @dewtu post here and the idea of mew's mugshot from @sunshinechay post here Thanks @rocketturtle4 for the posts and the talk (along with Midsomer from the discord)

Music playlist here

I think Mew likes to be in control. Of himself, of his emotions, of the situation. Top is a schemer, doing everything to give Mew a storybook romance.

Mew

I love how Boston isn't even in the light, he's uninterested, aloof. The next scene he wonders away from the group as soon as Ray suggests they help him with actually running the hostel for the project. Support my ass.

Mew is shadowed here, even though we see parts of him, like his mouth... We know what he says about himself, but I'm not thinking we get the whole picture from him yet. Also, I think he uses the glasses as a way to shield himself from the world.

"I read books a lot, that's why I'm wearing specs." Which could be he's ruined his eyes from reading, but also we know he reads books to feel things he's never felt before, go places he's never been, and this:

He is using reading to buffer himself from feeling the real thing. We know he is afraid of himself. "You know what I'm afraid of? I'm sensitive, If I have sex with you, I'm going to be so into you." He goes on describing how he'll be addicted and it'll turn out bad. He knows Top only wants a one night stand.

So the glasses can be a sort of symbol of that separation of him, his emotions, and the world.

Back to the quiz night at the bar:

Side note the song saying "It's one thing what you promised, but it's another to deliver, You don't want it now that you got it, to hell with it" nice. None of Top and Mew's songs are romantic.

Mew refuses to drink, giving what he wins to his friends. He wants control of his emotions and what is happening, which we see through out the night, Top thinks he is scheming his way into Mews room but realizes quickly that Mew knows what's going on. And Mew stops as soon as he feels like this situation and his emotions are getting out of control. So, he chooses Ice Cream. Top asks for a cuddle, and he allows it, but is still in control.

Mew's freak out goes along with the song that is playing "Check for pulse" Specifically, "You will hurt the ones you love, and they will hurt you right back. Sing along, Sing along, our love is a heart attack, You better check for pulse" Mew is afraid of this exact thing happening. Again, "I don't want to cry alone in my room"

Another thing about Mew being in control, he thinks he knows how to read people, we get him saying it twice.

Makes me think he's got Top's number. He knows what Top is doing.

Top

This whole time Top thinks he's in control, the bathroom scene with Boston and Top

"I also want to date him, he's interesting" Man never doubts for a second that he's got Mew under control.

Also song playing is Hate Me here it's just saying "hate me" over and over so... yeah. Doesn't feel good.

Cue Spying game with the lyrics "We're both lost, out of date, bitter stargazers, Pretty much similar, Homeless heartbreakers. I don't wanna hear your thoughts, You don't wanna feel my skin, You just wanna dream of sin, Sickness floating in our veins, Players in a spying game"

"I'm going to be there to comfort my friend" is met with a rolled eyes. The amount of contempt Top has for Boston. Man thinks he's got the situation down.

Enough that when he grabs the mic, he just assumes no one will stop him. Doesn't care about Sand, or anyone else. He's in control.

So we've got Mew who thinks he knows how to read people vs Top who wants get what he wants.

This smile at the end though. is it Mew falling for Top or is it Top falling into Mew's control. Who's world is ending.

[octuscle]

I take a STN suitcase if I can bro!

So, you two little geniuses. You thought it would be a good idea to save packing a suitcase for your class trip and just get a suitcase from the airport instead? Let's see if you'll be happy with that.

Did you wonder about the striped stickers with the bear paw on the suitcase? And about the stickers from clubs in San Francisco, Chicago, Amsterdam, Cologne and Gran Canaria? Anyway, when you open the suitcase on the first evening in the youth hostel, you are a bit surprised that the clothes don't fit you at all. Everything is much too big. And not at all your style. But it doesn't help, you both take a fresh T-shirt, in which you almost sink and go to dinner.

In any case, your teacher is blindsided when you volunteer to serve at the table after dinner. And you actively participate in the evening activities. Normally, you always run away, secretly go to the pub or chain-smoke behind a shed.

The next morning you wake up with a morning wood like you've never had before. And your mate has also built a tent in his bed. You gently shake him awake and you go to the washroom to jerk each other off. Fuck, you cum like never before in your life. You are completely jizzed. In the shower you give your pal another blowjob. Lad, you really had pressure. That's the problem with school trips. Little privacy. After the shower you think about whether you should shave again. That's more than a three-day beard you've got there. But your pal lets his beard grow too. And you find that pretty cool with him. So you leave your beard in peace.

Looking after a school class on a school trip is worse than looking after a bag of fleas. You would have imagined that differently as a trainee teacher. But the lads are no different than you were. Every hike is too strenuous for them, every museum is too boring for them. But the class teacher is delighted that you two are accompanying the group. Alone, she would have had a hard time taming the pack.

Boy, was that a good evening in the pub. It was nice that you were allowed to remove yourselves for an evening. Finally a few beers and some real food. In front of the mirror after the shower you caress your hairy paunch. You are like your husband a real premium bear. And a teacher with passion. But as you said, even on school trips you sometimes need a night off.

Today you're going to the sea. As a biology teacher, you will talk a bit about the ecosystem of the Wadden Sea. And afterwards, your husband will let the sissy kids run along the beach for a while. In the beginning, the youngsters thought that they would have an easy time with the two faggots in charge. In the meantime, you have earned their respect. You may sometimes look like teddy bears. But beware of the grizzlies!

[pttucker]

This sort of affectionate behaviour felt uncomfortable to me, like some kind of ill-fitting clothes. Was it okay to be like this? Was it okay to experience moments like this already?

How long had it been since all of my companions were smiling together like this? Maybe, this could be our first time. They were able to smile even though the scenarios hadn't ended yet. They were able to chat away in happiness like that, and share their stories. ⸢And while looking at that spectacle, Kim Dokja suddenly felt lonely for some reason.⸥

"Well, Dokja-ssi, your communication skill has always been a little lacking, so it can't be helped, I guess. You were also like that back when we were working for the company." "…I was?" "You really didn't speak all that much to other people." I became utterly speechless after she mercilessly carpet-bombed me with facts. But then again, after giving it a bit of thought, it made total sense. I grew up without a friend from a young age. I wasn't clued in on how to socialise with other people, and back then, I only thought about how to weasel myself out of the company meal get-together. I figured that, rather than wasting time doing that, I might as well read the 'Ways of Survival' one more time instead.

I wasn't sure what to say to her. It felt as if I'd only sound like an ass just by thanking her or expressing my gratitude. The 'Ways of Survival' never taught me what I should say in moments like this.

Ughhhhh, Dokja not having a single friend and basically teaching himself how to socialize based on how characters interacted in a web novel. With the main character of said web novel being Yoo Joonghyuk so...yeah...

Granted, apparently even Joonghyuk took time to give his companions breaks and hang out with his little sister.

Of course, it's not like Dokja has ever had to pay attention to what anybody else wanted when out and about doing things, nor did he expect anybody else to pay attention to him.

Ughhhhh, the pain. I know it was heavily implied that he had no friends, like ever, on top of being badly bullied and abused and traumatized from killing his own abusive father as a little kid and mentally covering it up to the point that he thought his mother killed him, who then wrote a very popular book claiming she did just that and and and...but I think this is the first time he outright says that he never had any friends?

And it seems to also be heavily implied that the relatives who took Dokja in were perhaps not the greatest considering he apparently didn't learn how to socialize from them either and moved into a hostel at seventeen...

And maybe I'm reading too much into this, but it almost seems to me like Dokja maybe thinks, at least subconsciously, that he has to earn the right to be happy and to have friends to be happy with? Or that he has to get through the bad stuff first before being allowed to finally enjoy life? (And doesn't that say a lot about his own life in the Before?)

He mentions twice that they're happy and smiling before the end of the scenarios, with one of the times literally being him saying, "Was it okay to be like this? Was it okay to experience moments like this already?" And he just feels so alienated and alone at seeing them all do exactly that, meanwhile he's got serious anxiety about all this "affectionate behavior" that can be ripped away at any moment. That he hasn't secured yet.

And maybe that's just it. Maybe he's just worried about having fun when there's still a threat nearby that can swoop down on them at any moment, and that in and of itself says a lot about his mentality and you can see pretty easily how that can tie into aspects of his past.

And that's not even getting into the fact that some part of Dokja probably feels that getting them to the end is kind of what he's there for, it's how he proves his worth and his love for them. He has no "place" at the big found family barbecue.

Ughhhh, someone please just cuddle him. 😭 Who wants to start the Kim Dokja cuddle pile? Kids? Hyunsung?

[2nd2ndalto]

Fall Down With You

Chapter 4

(previous chapter)

This has been an easy quest by most standards - they’ve been riding trains, staying in actual hotels some of the time, hostels others. Nico’s got his mysterious Underworld credit card, so they haven’t had to survive on scraps.

Today was hard, though. The battle with Mnemosyne’s minion had shaken Will to his core.

And now, lying here in the darkness, it’s starting to feel crushing - the weight of memories; guilt and sorrow from the past shoved to the forefront of his brain, things he pushes aside far more often than examining them. Will should be enjoying the luxury of a comfortable room, a soft bed, but instead he finds himself shaking, forgetting how to breathe not long after they agree to turn the lights out for the night. He’s beyond exhausted, but the thought of letting his eyes fall shut is terrifying.

It wasn’t easy on Nico, either, Will’s pretty sure. He’s been quiet since they checked into the hotel, but there’s a tension in the other boy’s body that Will had almost forgotten about. It was there all the time, three years ago, when Nico first came to camp.

They haven’t spoken much. They ordered in pizza, which neither of them really ate, watched some stupid reality show that neither could really focus on, and now they’re here, in this darkened room, and Will feels the weight of the world pressing into his chest. There are tears building behind his eyes and a headache creeping into his temples and he suddenly just can’t. He can’t be here.

Will sits up in bed without really knowing what he’s going to do next. Go for a walk? He can’t quite bear the idea of being alone out in the world, either. And he’s tired right down to his bones. So what, then?

There’s a soft shifting in the bed next to his. “Solace?”

“Mmm,” Will responds, his voice catching on the single syllable.

“You okay?” Nico murmurs.

Will takes a deep, shaky breath and lies down again. “Yeah. Fine.”

There’s a long pause, broken only by the sound of a door clicking closed somewhere down the hallway. The sound makes Will jump.

“That was a rough day,” Nico says, finally.

‘Yeah,” Will whispers. He feels a tear slowly track down his cheek. Every time he tries to close his eyes, he sees that fucking bridge, Michael falling, falling. He swallows hard.

“We can talk about it, if you want?” Nico's voice is low and soft.

Will takes in a shaky breath. “No, I don’t - I don’t think I want to. But thanks.”

“Okay.”

But the fear and darkness and grief are clawing their way up his throat, and no, he doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to draw those memories any closer than they already are, but his heart is pounding and -

“Nico?” His voice in the quiet room sounds cracked, thin.

“Yeah?”

“Could we - would you mind if… Could we sleep… closer?”

Will holds his breath, presses his lips together. It’s not even quite what he meant to say, but as the words piece themselves together he realizes how much comfort it would bring.

“Yeah. Of course.” Nico sits up, gazing at Will across the darkened room. “How much closer? I don’t think we can move these beds.”

Will swallows. “I guess um… as close as you’re comfortable with. I just - sorry,” his voice catches as a gasp tears from his throat, and gods, if he could just fucking breathe.

“Hey, no. It’s okay.” And Nico’s there next to him in the next second, a warm hand on Will’s shoulder, his weight making the mattress dip. He rubs Will’s arm comfortingly, up and down, waits until Will can catch his breath again.

Will’s trembling. He’s dizzy, unanchored. He feels like the smallest movement could carry him away and gods the simple fact of Nico’s hand on his arm is tethering him to his sanity right now, and just the thought of the other boy pulling away makes his chest constrict.

But Nico doesn’t pull away, and after a long moment he eases himself down so he’s lying next to Will, watching him in the dark, his hand still warm on Will’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Will whispers.

Nico frowns. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. You’re allowed to be a little rattled, Solace. Anyone would be after having that dickhead mess with their memories.”

Will shakes his head. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just - I know you don’t always like… touching,” Will finishes.

Nico blinks, looking momentarily confused. Then he huffs out a soft laugh. “That doesn’t apply to you, idiot,” he says gently.

“It - it doesn’t?”

Doesn’t it?

Nico’s gaze drops. “Hasn’t for a long time. Thought you knew that.” He swallows. Here -”

He releases Will only long enough to climb around to the other side of him, crawling under the covers and curving himself against Will’s back, tucking an arm snug around Will’s waist. Will almost sobs with the relief of it. It’s exactly what he needs, and he melts against Nico, grasping Nico’s hand like he’s drowning. Nico squeezes back.

“Is this okay?” Nico murmurs.

“Very very okay,” Will breathes. “Are you sure it’s okay with you?”

“Positive.”

Nico shifts, tucking his knees up behind Will’s and pulling him in closer still, and then Will can’t hold back the tears any longer. But Nico is right there, holding him, murmuring soothingly against his neck, his thumb softly stroking against the back of Will’s hand. He smells like the bright scent of the hotel soap and something that’s fundamentally, blessedly Nico. The warm scent of the Hades cabin, the same scent left on Will’s borrowed hoodies when Nico finally returns them, a scent that Will presses to his face in the sometimes-quiet of his own cabin.

Gods, he loves this boy.

“I can help you sleep, if you want?” Nico murmurs once the tears have eased.

“No,” Will answers, too fast. He doesn’t want to miss any of this, but he also doesn’t want to say that out loud…

“Just - could we just try this first? I think I can sleep if - if you stay.” He can feel his cheeks warming at the admission, and he immediately wishes he’d found another way to phrase it.

But Nico only squeezes him a little tighter. “I won’t go anywhere. But tell me if you change your mind, okay?”

Will nods. The dark isn’t as oppressive now. A thin line of light coming under the hotel room door silhouettes Nico’s boots and Will’s runners, lined up side by side in the entranceway. Nico’s body molds perfectly against Will’s, knee to hip to shoulder, and the steady rise and fall of Nico’s chest against Will’s back is the sweetest lullaby he could imagine.

And Will can breathe again.

“This is nice,” Nico murmurs, soft as a sigh, maybe ten minutes later. Will’s not even sure he was meant to hear it.

“Yeah,” he answers, just as quiet.

“I mean, not that I want some asshole digging around in your head, but -”

“Yeah,” Will agrees. “But… maybe we should do this more often,” he suggests, his skin tingling with sudden boldness. He holds his breath until Nico says,

“Yeah. Maybe we should.”

Will feels warm all over, and it’s not just from the way Nico wraps around him, like a quilt, like a talisman. Like they’ve always prepared for sleep like this.

This time when he closes his eyes, it’s only warmth, only comfort. Only the soft rush of Nico’s breath on his neck and the warm tangle of their fingers pressed against Will’s stomach.

They wake hours and hours later, to an already-risen sun, Will’s face pressed into Nico’s chest, Will’s arms tight around the other boy’s waist and Nico’s arms tight around Will’s shoulders.

They rarely sleep alone after that.

(next chapter)

___

Notes:

My extremely fluffy fic Whole World Gets So Quiet would slot in after this chapter, if you're keeping track :)

[docholligay]

On reflection, was the price of the business class flight worth the experience of it?

Absolutely, because I didn’t pay for it ahahah. 

I think this is gonna be another one of those use case things. I’m a fucking podling, and I love to travel, and it makes me so happy and excited that the fact that I didn’t sleep is a REALITY, but not necessarily a PROBLEM. I am a little terrier of a human being. 

I adore pampering, and I love nice treatment, and we did get a screaming deal on the flight. I drank my fucking weight in sparkling and took every single snack and meal offered to me. I laid down and slept and I admit that was pretty amazing. 

But, if I had to pay, and I had to pay full price, I’m just not at a place in my life where I would be willing to pay that, because I don’t NEED it. If we go back to the Uk or Europe, I’ll probably pay for my wife to do business class while I sit cattle class with the understanding that I can order as many cocktails as I want. She needs to lie down and sleep so much more than I do. 

A normal flight to most European countries business is like 3,000 and honestly I could pad that out to a much longer experience in europe (If I am traveling alone) and that’s what I’d rather do, and save my money for things like fine dining and maybe one night in a super nice hotel, or treating friends. 

Quickly, for that money, there’s a very weirdly cheap flight into INverness, Scotland (???) so I could fly into there, see what the fuck is going on in Inverness, stay in a cheap room above or pub or a private room in a hostel, take the train to Glasgow and stay in a hostel, hook up with my friend who lives there and hang out for a day or two, take the train down to the Greater London Area and crash on a couch for a few days, probably, stay in a hostel in london, take the Eurostar to Paris, ask my friends in Germany if they want to come hang out there so either split a hotel with them or stay in hostel, take a cheap easyjet flight back to inverness and go home. That’s a planned in 3 minutes 2 week trip that leaves me with roughly 1k for food and activities. It would be even cheaper if I wasn’t too old for shared hostel rooms. 

BUT: I can only do that by myself. My other compatriots in life require a touch more, while I LIKE it but do not need it. 

But! I am so so happy that I did it, it was an absolute bucket list item for me, the whole thing was an absolute delight and I was bouncing with joy the whole time.

[transboysokka]

@transuncletaylor made a post that really made me remember how easy it was to get lost back before we had smartphones and being home, it was just normal and they weren’t really essential, but TRAVELING omg…. When I would travel with my parents, no big deal at all. But traveling alone….

I used to live in Fuzhou, China, in like… 2018? In day-to-day life, smartphones were very much a thing by then- but without a VPN you couldn’t use pretty much any of the Big Western websites, including Google so now that I think about it, maps were much more difficult there. But that’s not my point right now.

Fuzhou’s kind of on the central coast, across the strait from Taiwan. On long weekends I would take the high-speed train about 4 hours to Hong Kong alone (most of my traveling is done alone) and BOY I never had ANY idea what was going on there. I wouldn’t bother with a SIM bc I would never be there for too long and there was free wifi in a lot of places (but, I’d find out, never in the places that mattered)

Anyway I would tend to just wander around Hong Kong without a real plan, hop on a ferry to some island I didn’t even know, wander around, get back on the ferry, go somewhere else to hike… It was fun! I have a good sense of direction so I was always able to end up back at my hostel when I needed

Another important thing to know… my Chinese bank account (and I ONLY had a Chinese bank account) for some reason wouldn’t let me use my debit card or any ATMs when I was in Hong Kong. So it was very much a cash only situation but I was always pretty good at bringing the right amount

Well

Here’s the situation. It’s December 23rd. I’d taken a couple days off work so I could do a long weekend for my birthday (the 20th) and experience Christmas (which was really not celebrated at all in Fuzhou) but I DO have to work the next day, the 24th and I can’t remember why but there was something really important happening that day that definitely couldn’t be missed.

The train to Fuzhou ran something like twice a day and my ticket was for the afternoon train. Security and immigration took unexpectedly WAYYYYY too long and for the first time in my life I missed my train.

So here I am, without any money to even buy another ticket if I want to, PAST immigration with no real way to reenter Hong Kong, with no phone signal or Wi-Fi, and HAVE to work the next day…

I go up to the help desk and explain what happened and they were like “Well, you gotta go somewhere so we’ll stick you on the next train to Shenzhen” which is right over the border but I’m thinking “great because at least I’ll be in China with a phone signal and it should be easy to get a train from there”

So I get to Shenzhen. Which is a HUGE city that I know nothing about and have never been to before. I find the ticket line at the station. Because I was a foreigner, I was required to buy tickets in person instead of from the machines? There were a lot of rules like that, I’m not really sure what was up with that. So I get in the line which takes FIVE HOURS to get to the front of. Not even joking. That’s also for some reason not completely unheard of there. By now it’s probably like 7pm? I tell the lady I need to get to Fuzhou TONIGHT and I’ll take a standing ticket if I have to and she says they JUST sold out but I can get an unreasonably expensive business class ticket for 7am the next day if I want.

I take it. At least I can afford it now bc I’m back in China

Then I gotta figure out where to stay. I get on the Chinese version of like booking.com or whatever people use nowadays and find a shitty hostel that accepts foreigners. Many hotels and hostels DIDN’T take foreigners bc they’re allowed to choose and you need a special license of something. So the closest place that had a bed and would take me was AN HOUR AWAY on the metro.

Okay good I finally get there and I’m exhausted.

I pass out and wake up at like 4 or 5am to make my morning train. I try to take a faster route back to the train station and somehow it’s WAY slower. I ALMOST MISS THAT TRAIN TOO. But I do get on and NOW IM STRESSED BECAUSE I HAVE TO WORK AT NOON and the train is gonna pull up in Fuzhou at like 11:30.

I get in and RUN to work, luggage and all, and make it but oof how exhausting, Merry Christmas…

Not nearly as dramatic as going missing in Seoul, but I do love this specific genre of story 😆

[eddiediaaz]

Hi Ali! Weird question but you mentioned you went to london a few months ago and I was wondering if you any tips to where to check accommodation and places to visit (im checking the possibility of going next year with some friends fingers crossed )and like there’s a lot and is kinda overwhelming

hii! not weird! keep in mind that i went alone though, so these are my experiences as a solo traveler on a budget~

i stayed at a women-only called hostelle. it made me feel safe, it was quite cheap (for london), and it was close to the tube and a few restaurants. it was also very queer friendly, i saw multiple enby people there as well. i only stayed in london for 4 nights, but very good vibes while i was there! they have rooms of 4 beds and up, so you could book a full room with your friends? though they didn't have AC, so i would probably avoid it in the summer lol

as for activities, i didn't have a fully packed schedule, i mostly went with what i felt like doing that day. also i was quite lucky that it didn't rain at all (except one half day) while i was there! but here are some of the things i did and loved (in no particular order):

victoria & albert museum: so so large with a lot of art, you could easily spend half a day there (it's also where they shot that red, white and royal blue slow dancing scene hehe)

full day trip to the cotswolds: @lightasthesun and i embarked on a small tour bus to visit four old picturesque little villages in the country side an hour or two outside of london. it was kinda pricey, but the sights were lovely and the guide was really fun. it's a "lowkey" activity with multiple breaks on a bus if you don't feel like walking all day. i would avoid going on the weekends tho

free self-guided walking tour in notting hill: this neighborhood with all of the colorful houses and fancy buildings was SO pretty!! i really enjoyed spending half a day there and walking all over. this is the walking tour i did if i remember correctly (the google maps itinerary was really handy)

while in notting hill i also went to the little museum of brands, it was really nice and fun to see the evolution of brands in the uk. and i also ate the farm girl cafe, the food was absolutely delicious and it was such a cute place!

hopping on a red double decker bus (NOT a hop-on hop-off tour bus, just a random city bus downtown because it's wayyyy cheaper) to see the sights, especially in the evening. i don't remember which route i took, but i remember googling "best sightseeing london bus routes) or something like that

walk, walk, walk! i walked a lot while in london, especially to see some of the famous sights: walking on the london and westminster bridges, big ben, the london eye, etc etc. i didn't visit any of the interior of these places, seeing it from the outside was enough for me to be honest. maybe next time!

camden market in camden town: such an eclectic vibe!! the market has a lot of shops and food stalls, it was nice walking in there. i would definitely go as early as possible in the day tho, cause by midday it was quite packed. the streets around the market are also fun to just walk in and take in the sights.

soho: lots of shopping and nightlife there. it's not really my scene that much, especially alone, but i enjoyed walking in this area for a little while. i spent quite a bit of time in the huuuuge liberty london department store. i had a very yummy fish & chips at golden union for dinner. the portion was huge, price was fair, and service was great.

the graffiti tunnel under waterloo station was really cool to take pictures in, but it did feel a little creepy to go there alone haha. the art there was really fun to see

kensington: kinda bougee neighborhood, but it was pretty, had a nice vibe and a lot of restaurants

annnnd that's about it, i think? i hope it gives you some inspiration and ideas!! london was really fun, i cannot wait to go again :D

[chaletnz]

First Stop, Cartagena!

My trip has begun at long last, with the unfortunate circumstance that I broke my ankle snowboarding just three weeks ago. Now I’m in the walking boot for at least another week or two and then can move to my extra supportive ankle brace and then probably just a supportive compression sock after that. I had been okay walking around at home with the boot but wearing an 8kg backpack made things more difficult with the additional weight. I found the airport currency exchange to buy my first Colombian pesos and waited an uncomfortably long time behind a guy with an ankle monitor. With the bag secured I could join another long uncomfortable line for my ritual airport Panda Express before boarding. I slept most of the flight to Atlanta and then joined yet another line for a Caribou coffee during the layover until finally I was on the final leg to Cartagena. We were disembarked onto the tarmac into the heatwave and then hit with a welcome icy blast of air conditioning when we got inside the terminal. I joined the regular line having missed the signs for the disabled line and after 30 painful minutes on my feet I asked the attendant if I could switch. He was very kind and asked the next people in line if they would mind if I went next as I had already waited a long time in this line. These folks were the same ones I had sat beside on the flight so they were happy to let me go ahead of them. Once I was safely in Colombia I connected to the limited wifi and summoned my driver Jaime who took me into the city to my hostel. Surprisingly the Spanish conversation flowed pretty well, I could find a lot more words to carry the conversation than when I had tried to talk to the taxi driver a year ago in Cusco. Jaime told me how it’s the 491 year anniversary of the city of Cartagena and how safe it was to walk around the city. When I checked into the hostel they’d assigned me a room that was still dirty because I’d asked to choose a bottom bunk. I put my card on the bed I wanted and then put all my unneeded things into one of the lockers, I’d also snatched a towel from the cleaning trolley left unattended outside the room. With some shorts on I felt immediately a lot better and started off with a walk to the clock tower for a look around. There was a band setting up to play and a lot of people milling about, trying to sell their wares or tours. Surprisingly most seemed to leave me alone which was great! The exchange rate at a nearby cambio was pretty good so I changed some USD to pesos and carried on walking to Plaza de Bolívar which was a shaded park. It was still much too hot even in the shade so I walked down further to Plaza de Santa Domingo and walked into the first cafe I saw hoping for air conditioning. It was San Alberto Boutique Coffee Experience and there were about 10 people working there to 4-5 customers. Unfortunately there was no air conditioning but it was too late, I had been seated with a menu already! I went for the paraiso which was a blended frappe iced coffee and was delicious - tasted like I was on holiday! On the way back to the hostel, I stopped for a chicken and potato skewer - he definitely charged me gringo prices though. He gave one away to a guy in a wheelchair so I wonder if he charged me for two and gave one to him. Around 4:30 (three hours after landing in the country) I had my first offer of weed and cocaine (“we have the best blow bro”). Instead I went for a limon juice which was a refreshing lemonade basically. I bought a mixture of coconut sweets on my way back to the hostel and stopped at a bakery to buy a pastry for the next morning. One last stop for a fresh bottle of cold water and I was ready to go to bed by late afternoon! Luckily the room was still empty when I arrived back so I took a shower in the clean bathroom, and organised everything ready for leaving early for my tour the next morning. As I was drifting off two girls arrived in the room but they got ready for a night out and left soon after. The last dorm mate arrived around midnight and turned on the light, and the girls arrived back at 2am.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Simon's Month - Food

day 2! thank you @youngroyals-events <3

Alone in a foreign country, Simon must find a stranger to join him on the romantic couples food tour he’s accidentally booked.

read below or on ao3 (T, 2.3k).

Simon curses under his breath as the confirmation email comes in.

So, he’d booked the food tour a little quickly, possibly without reading all the fine print. He can’t even blame a language barrier because he’s in Spain and, thanks to his mamá, his Spanish is really better than his English.

The solo-travel thing had been a bit of a last-minute decision. Spurred by the post university graduation crisis of, ‘Oh Fuck What Am I Doing With My Life?’ whichled twenty-somethings around the globe to grab a backpack and buy a one-way plane ticket. Simon’s decision was also encouraged by the fact that he’d woken up one day and realized he was in a toxic relationship, quickly packing his bags and saying Hejdå to a two-year relationship. He’s only about three weeks into the whole self-discovery shtick, but it seems to be going well so far. He enjoys the independence of it all. Not that he’s not independent at home — in fact, he’s been a little bit too much of an adult since he was 10 — but more so that he doesn’t have to worry about anyone else. Simon goes to museums when he wants to, stays for as little or as much time as he wants. He eats when he wants, goes to shows he likes, and doesn’t spend every second of every day worrying about everyone else. (Of course, he’s called his mama and sister nearly every day since he left, but he’s working on it.) He also, apparently, incorrectly books guided food tours that are actually romantic couples excursions. 

Glancing around the nearly empty breakfast room at his hostel, he chews on his options. One is to show up to this tour alone and look like a dumb tourist. Two is to find someone willing to go on it with him.

There’s a pair of British girls in the corner, giggling over their plates of breakfast. Simon recognizes them from the stand-up comedy show the hostel had organized the night before; they’d been attached at the hip the whole night. Slim chance of separating them. Crowding around the cereal bar is a group of American guys who all look like fraternity brothers. If Simon remembers correctly, he’d overheard some vile words from them in the bar last night, and so he’s is not too keen on participating in any sort of tour with any of them, romantic or not.

The only other person in the room is sitting a few seats down at the communal table: a very good-looking man with light auburn hair and high cheek bones. His long fingers, nails painted a deep purple, hold up a book with one hand and gingerly lift a coffee cup to his lips with the other. He’s dressed quite casually, in an un-done button up over a tank-top and baggy trousers, but somehow makes it look refined. Simon noticed him yesterday afternoon in the hostel café, noticed the way the man’s eyes tracked Simon from across the room.

His pretty brown eyes are no longer locked on the pages of the book, but have found Simon again and caught him staring. Simon forces himself to hold his ground and smiles, glancing down at the book title. It’s by a Swedish author, he realizes, and a gay Swedish author at that.

Gesturing with his head, Simon asks, “Is it good?”

The pretty man places his coffee cup down clumsily. “Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“I’ve read it a million times,” he says, closing the book. “I’m Wille.” 

The light blush on his cheeks is endearing.

“Simon.”

Wille smiles softly and nods, “Trevligt.”

He’s polite and looks suspiciously rich to be in this hostel, but his eyes are kind and has a rainbow pin on his tote bag so, before Wille can say anything else, Simon slides one chair closer.

“Are you doing anything today, Wille?”

Wille moves to the chair across from Simon. “Nope.”

Simon props his head on both his hands and gazes at this beautiful stranger, wondering why he didn’t speak to him the day before. “Would you like to join me on a romantic food tour around Barcelona?”

Wille quirks an eyebrow, then mirrors Simon’s position. “I would love to.”

The tour doesn’t begin for a few hours, so they sit and chat while the breakfast room fills up around them. Wille laughs when Simon explains how he’s gotten himself into this situation, and the sound sets little sparks bursting in Simon’s chest. What luck he’s had this morning.

Simon learns that Wille is also at the beginning of a self-discovery trip, running away from a family legacy and a desk job he desperately did not want. He also learns that Wille is incredibly funny and quite flirty, though whenever Simon starts flirting back he becomes incredibly flustered. His stare, though, is the thing that gets Simon the most. Wille looks at him so intently, gaze flitting between Simon’s eyes and his mouth, listening to every word and seemingly staring directly into Simon’s soul. It would be troubling if he wasn’t so goddamn beautiful.

The conversation flows so easily between them that Simon, so wrapped up in Wille’s laugh and crooked teeth, almost forgets they have somewhere to be.

They walk quickly through the streets of Barcelona together, heading towards the café at which they’re meant to meet the rest of their tour group. Wille’s fingers brush against Simon’s a few times, though his voice never falters, so Simon isn’t sure if it’s just him that feels the jolt of electricity each time.

“You said this is a romantic food tour?” Wille asks, reaching out to pull Simon out of the way of a passing cart.

The city is bustling with life around them, the sun shining hot between the buildings, people hanging off balconies, chatting with neighbors or stringing up laundry to dry. It’s absolutely beautiful, and somehow it seems a bit more colorful than it had the day before.

“Yes.”

“Is it going to be obvious that you and I just met?” he says, letting Simon go ahead of him to squeeze through the crowd, staying close, with a hand hovering over Simon’s lower back.

“Well,” Simon muses, “we could make it a bit of a game. If you’re down.”

Looking over his shoulder, he sees Wille’s eyes light up with mischief. “I’m down. What kind of game?”

Simon chuckles and shrugs, checking his phone to make sure they’re still headed in the right direction. “We could pretend to be a couple. You know, really put on a show.”

“That sounds very, very fun, Simon.”

For the last ten or so minutes of their walk, they establish some basic rules. They’ll hold hands and gaze lovingly in each other’s eyes and ramble to anyone who asks about their beautiful love story. The goal is to one-up every other couple there by acting sickeningly in love. By the time they make it to the café, only a few minutes late, they’re holding onto each other and cackling at the increasingly ridiculous ‘meet-cute’ ideas they’ve come up with.

There are three other couples in the tour: one looks like a very young newly-wed couple, another is a pair of middle-aged ladies, and the third is a pretentious-looking, older couple who already look fed up with everyone else. As the tour-guide starts on their spiel, Wille wraps a tender arm around Simon, pulling him close and whispering jokes into his ear, somehow making them look more like a couple than even the newly-weds.

They sit down to start, and Wille lets Simon order for them off the selected menu. They feed each other bites of tomato toast and gently wipe crumbs from each other’s cheeks, all the while giggling to each other and only half-listening to the explanations of the food. It also seems they’ve unintentionally started a competition with the other young couple of who-can-look-more-in-love. When Wille hands Simon a napkin before he can even ask to wipe up his splashed juice, the man of the other couple tries to lovingly whisper something in his wife’s ear but gets brushed off as she’s too busy listening intently to the tour guide. When Simon holds out a forkful of potato omelette for Wille, the man tries to do the same, but his wife shakes her head, smiling, and fondly pats his cheek then turns back to her own plate.

As they move through the next few stops — a restaurant, a food cart, and an open-air market — he and Wille fall even further into their ‘game’. There’s plenty of very intentional touches and exchanged loving glances, but Wille also asks Simon about himself. About his family and his dreams and where he’s going next. Simon learns even more about Wille’s obsession with frogs and his love for lakes and his passion for writing. The rest of the tour group fades away, and things between them start to feel a little less like a game and a little more real. The prolonged eye contact becomes less playful and more loaded. The lingering touches become less out of competition and more out of some deep urge. Simon’s eyes flick more often down to Wille’s lips, watching him lick cream off his fingers or clean gazpacho off his spoon.

Maybe it’s the wine, but as they head to their last stop of the day, hand in hand, trailing behind the group, Simon finds himself hoping Wille isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He’d made a few friends over the past few weeks, but it always seemed to work out that when he was having a great time, the person would be leaving the very next day, heading off to some new country or heading back home.

Wille grins over at him and points out a pretty sculpture, mumbling something smart about the artist and looking absolutely ethereal in the light of the early evening with his flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Maybe it isn’t just the wine.

Their final destination is a small tapas place on the beach. Simon and Wille have given up any pretense of listening to the tour guide or of playing their little game. Instead, they sit close at their table and chat about their favorite memories growing up and tell embarrassing stories. Simon, as he’s done at every place, translates every bit of Spanish on the menu and giggles helplessly as he corrects Wille’s pronunciation. They share a plate of pulpo and split a liter of sangria and it’s one of the most perfect days Simon’s ever experienced.

“I’m really glad I misread that website,” Simon says, fiddling with his fingers. When he glances up, he finds Wille grinning at him. He takes Simon’s hand.

“Me too.”

After the tour concludes and their guide bids they all farewell, their group mostly scatters. But, Wille and Simon stay at their table, finishing off their pitcher and becoming increasingly rowdy with their jokes. After a few annoyed looks from their waiter, they collect their things and stumble down to the beach. Simon jumps onto Wille’s back, laughing loudly and savoring the feeling of Wille’s strong hands wrapped securely around his legs. Wille wades out into the shallow water of the beach, and Simon yelps when he pretends to nearly drop them both into the cool water.

Eventually, Wille lets him down but takes his hand instead, and they walk down the sand, talking about the food tour and realizing that they maybe didn’t pay attention at all.

There’s a warm buzz in Simon’s body, making him giddy and calm all at once. When they make it to a small concrete pier, Wille pulls him out to the edge of it and they stand, arms wrapped around each other, staring out at the Mediterranean.

Simon sighs happily. “Beautiful.”

“Yeah. Very,” Wille says breathlessly, and Simon looks up to see Wille staring down at him. He smacks Wille’s chest playfully.

“You’re an idiot, Wille.”

Wille laughs, “I’m being serious!”

“Sure,” Simon hums, turning back to the water, biting back a smile.

“Hey.” He turns back again and Wille’s face has sobered, and he’s now gazing down at Simon with that same intense stare. “You are beautiful, Simon. You’re also funny and kind and— I had a really, really great time today.”

He squirms slightly at the force of the words, the conviction in Wille’s tone, but can’t help but let his eyes flicker down to Wille’s lips. He’s so close and looks so pretty in the cool lighting of the twilight evening and Simon’s never thought it could be possible to fall for someone like this, this hard, in one day.

“Me, too,” Simon whispers. Then, “Wille?”

“Yes?”

“Can I—”

Wille nods, gasping, “Yes,” before Simon can even finish his sentence and then they’re both rushing forward.

Finally, after thinking about it nearly all day, Wille’s lips connect with his. He tastes like fruity wine and olives and something so Wille, and Simon melts into his arms, coming up onto his tiptoes to press further into him. Wille’s hair is soft under his fingertips and though they’ve basically been touching all day, this is different and overwhelming and everything.

When they break apart, giggling into each other, the lights have come on along the paved pathway by the beach.

“Maybe we should head back?” Wille suggests, looking just as much like he doesn’t want to head back as Simon feels. But, it’s getting late and he’s also starting to feel tired from all the wine and walking, so Simon nods and takes Wille’s hand again.

They trail slowly back through the streets, pausing occasionally to exchange a quick kiss, or to slip into an alcove and exchange a slightly longer one. By the time they make it back to their building, Simon’s limbs feel syrupy with sleep and his chest feels warm with the events of the day.

Two steps up the stairs to the front door of the hostel, Simon stops and turns.

“Where will you be tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at Wille.

Wille smiles. “Wherever you are.” 

[jgyapologism]

it's that time again! episode 10 inspired me so much i finished this chapter pretty quickly this time lol.

“SURPRIIIISE!” Ray enters the front door of the hostel with Sand’s hand in his, and true to his word, drops his mouth open in mock surprise when they step over the threshold, a slew of party poppers going off as a small crowd of their friends wait with smiles. He glances behind their heads, where a banner that says ‘Congrats on rehab’ hangs in alternating red and yellow font, bundles of matching balloons tied at the ends. The color scheme reminds him of a baby shower — or a fucking gender reveal party — which has his initial reaction bordering on a snort. (But … when was the last time Ray had even had a party for himself?)

Please make sure to check the notes before you read! Many TWs to keep an eye out for. Leave comments and kudos if you want :)

[umichenginabroad]

New Zealand Part 1 (Week 11)

One of the beautiful things about studying at UNSW is that during week 6 of our studies, we get a flexibility week where the majority of courses don’t hold class and students are given the chance to catch up with schoolwork, get ahead, or do nothing and just relax! My hostel-mates and I knew about this opportunity from the day we got here, so a big trip was always in the works. We even knew that we all wanted to spend the time in New Zealand. The only problem? There’s 18 of us living in the hostel together and we’ve had enough trouble planning trips for just 5 or 6 people, let alone 18. Everyone had a different vision of what a trip to New Zealand could look like between camping, or renting cars and staying in AirBnBs, or living out of campervans. Needless to say, the trip planning was procrastinated all through the 4 weeks of summer and another 4 weeks of term 1. Once in a while someone would say, “Guys, we really have to plan this. Plane tickets are getting expensive!” and they’d be met with more approval and support than a professor who has suggested extending a homework deadline. But, as expected with our group, no action would be taken. Until one person sits down and buys themself a roundtrip flight to New Zealand, nobody is going anywhere. Soon enough, after intense procrastination and discussion, tickets were bought, plans were made, the group of 14 (four couldn’t make it) had divided into two campervans and two cars (who would be staying in AirBnBs), and I was sitting on a plane to Queenstown. 

^^ Landing in Queenstown

Queenstown may not be among New Zealand’s 20 largest cities, but it is renowned for its adventure sports and stunning scenery, earning it the nickname "Adventure Capital of the World," as my friend Elizabeth would say. Our adventures in Queenstown, however, were put on hold until the end of the trip as we had a road trip planned that would take us up north to Christchurch and then back down to the Adventure Capital. So, on our first day there we picked up our car rentals and headed to Fiordland National Park for a quick hike. The greenest plants, mossiest rocks, and most colorful mushrooms riddled the paths and made our short hike one of the most memorable. 

^^ Some New Zealand Flora

I also felt a lot safer hiking in New Zealand compared to Australia. New Zealand has none of the snakes that Australia is infamous for and has an almost negligible amount of dangerous spiders compared to the numbers Australia boasts! With our glow worm cave tour waiting for us in Te Anau, we had to get back on the road quickly. Lucky for us, there are worse places to be driving than one of the most naturally beautiful countries in the world where mountains surround you in every direction and lakes bluer than the sky itself pop up out of the blue (pun intended) every few moments. We weren’t allowed to take pictures in the glow worm caves, but imagine yourself sitting on a boat in a pitch black cave with little blue/green specks scattering the ceiling. That was pretty much it! It was interesting to learn about the glow worms themselves – they glow brighter the hungrier they are (to better attract flies) and they’re actually larvae, not worms, so they just need to survive long enough to turn into gnats and reproduce. You may be wondering why I’m sharing so much detail about random worms. Well, as a recent trivia night attendee (two weeks in a row), I see every random fact as a future topic in trivia. You can thank me later.

^^ Just the average roadside view while driving along the west side of the South Island!

Milford Sound was next on the list. Just a two hour drive from Te Anau with the option of a bus service to shuttle you there and back, Milford Sound is a large fiord stretching 9 miles (or, 15 km should I say) to the open sea. Once there, a boat cruise takes you down to the ocean and back while passing waterfalls, dramatic cliffs, and some popular scuba diving destinations. Milford Sound was highly recommended as an activity on our itinerary, and it truly lived up to the hype! From the stops on the bus ride to the scenic cruise, I was in a constant state of awe that I will never forget. The rest of the trip was just as exciting, but I’ll cover it in the next post! Until then, Cheers!

^^ The car gang on our way to Milford Sound

^^ A snippet of Milford Sound

David Bayer

Biomedical Engineering

University of New South Wales in Sydney, Australia