#i had to google what we might call it — I like that. it reminds me of sodoku

[verboselocket38]

I'ght, imma just say it. I did not like the newest episode (shocker)

Its just Stolas man, why????

Stolas just gets away with everything not evening acknowledging the fact that he forced Blitz in a coercive relationship and instead spewed that he was "ThE mAsTeRmInD".... AND HE DOESN'T EVEN DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like I was actively cheering until they said he'll live and only get his powers taken away and his home and other stuff! The only reason why he lived was because "PLOT ARMOR"

And you know what's worse? Stolitz stans are going to use Stolas's "sacrifice" as an excuse to why Blitz should get with Stolas.

"Yeah Stolas forced Blitzo into coercive rape, but he sacrificed himself BLAHBLAH BLAH!"

I saw someone mention this so I will just put it here: When it comes to toxic relationships, victims will often be reminded of the "good" parts of the relationship so they'll stay with the person who treats them wrong. This is called "Breadcrumming" (according to google) By emphasizing the "good times they had together," they try to make it harder for the victim to focus on the ongoing harm and leave the situation.

Whether or not Stolas is sorry or didnt know he was doing was wrong, these two should NOT BE IN A RELATIONSHIP PERIOD. Its toxic.

"But its hell-"

Stfu. This show (even Hazbin) portray most stuff as harmless despite the fact being HARMFUL. The excuse is used only when its convenient to make the characters we are suppose to like (Stolas) and un-convienet for the characters we are suppose to hate (Stella)

The writers are on Stolas's side despite Viv lying and claiming that "they are both in the wrong" which she only said when people realized that Stolas was a hypocrite. The show ALWAYS tortures Blitz with his past and WE GET IT VIV CAN YOU NOW GIVE PILES OF TRAUMA DUMPING ON STOLAS NOW??? YOU DID IT WITH BLITZ, DO IT WITH THE OTHER DUDE SO IT DOESNT SEEM ONE SIDED! Yeah I might make a post that makes more sense when I am less frustrated but yeah thats it :(

Also just a reminder, I do not like Blitz. But Stolas makes me want to kms

[eemoo1o-kuroo]

I’ve just realised that Oka x Shadow is a thing. Oh, my. How delightful.

[sugar-plum-writer]

Sanctified Azure <3

Tags: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Size-kink; Overstimulation; Unprotected Sex; Religious themes; Manhandling; Rough sex; Cream pie; Pussy drunk Gojo; improper use of Holy Water; MNDI (18+); Who knew Gojo could go more feral?; Possessive Gojo; Smut; NSFW + NSFW; Established relationship; intense sex

A/n: I think this might be one of the most original ideas I've ever come up with when it comes to execution of the plot; really I even surprised myself! Periods really do switch something in the brain huh? 50/50 aka 50% plot & 50% porn all things balanced as they should be~

Synopsis: What happens when your boyfriend gets possessed and fucking him to exorcise him is the only way to get rid of the demon? How feral can he get?

Word count: 4.8k

The curtains of darkness enveloped the room as the walls were crawling with shadows grinning. A single candle illuminated the living room as it sat- its flame flickering eager on what would unfold tonight.

Was this a good idea? Probably not. You had warned your boyfriend Satoru 1000 times that you got bad vibes from that shady store. How he should stay away from that store, and not get involved with it.

But here you are sitting with him- in your and his living room. A crooked pentagon is drawn in the middle with white chalk, some shady-looking book at its center with god knows what language it is written in. White candles all over the room which now reminded you of a scene from the horror movie "Conjuring 2" which is clearly not a good sign.

"Satoru are we really doing this?", You look at him dead in the eyes annoyed.

"Just trust me! I am the strongest sorcerer alive baby~", he smirked- oh how that stupid smirk annoyed you- you really wanted to wipe it off his face.

"Gojo I don't know- this is giving me bad vibes…this…do you even know what's written here?", taking a sharp breath you point at the book.

"Well", he chirped opening his phone, "I used Google Translate baby~ trust me I got this!", proudly he stuck his phone in front of your face with a smug expression.

It was a broken translation with messed up symbols. The pages had ink wiped off, so what did it say again? Beelzebub? Who the hell is he?

Squinting your eyes you tried to make sense of whatever jargon was written in it, "Gojo what the fuck is this? It makes no sense"

"The spell!", he chirped again smiling brightly like a kid who just got candy.

..Silence…

Is he serious right now?

You look at him dumbstruck, how the hell is someone supposed to read weird ancient symbols!?

As if on cue reading your mind he smirked, "I found a YouTube tutorial on Google on how to read it by a guy called- "Satanic Rituals 101!"

You all are going to die today, aren't you?

Your only assurance being is him being the strongest sorcerer and hoping he can hollow purple the demon or whatever is going to crawl out of that shitty Pentagon.

…..

It took some time as Gojo tried to recite whatever he learned from this "Satanic Rituals 101" guy. Which clearly sounded like a Quotev or Buzzfeed account making "Which witch you are?" quizzes from the mid-late 2000's, which you definitely did not spend countless hours doing together with your friends

At first, you thought- more specifically- hoped that the ritual would fail because dealing with a demon is the last thing you want on a Saturday night.

With a huff, you sat with him in the crooked Pentagon as he recited the spell and screeched.

It was all shits and giggles- after all no way this was real? right? right? until the air in the room froze- the temperature felt 20 degrees lower.

Each breath turns into whisps of smoke freezing in front of your eyes- while the clock ticked behind you- it is eerily quiet- the type of quietness that is minutes before the disaster, your guts and mind were telling you to run out but your body was frozen in fear- none of your muscles were listening.

"G-Gojo?", you whispered shakily clutching the hem of your top till your knuckles turned white from fear

"Yeah what is it?", he whispered near your ears causing you to freak out.

"What the fuck!? Don't do that! This is not funny anymore!", you rolled your eyes and faced him.

"Aww really? I am having a lot of fun though", he grinned as he leaned in; face inches away from yours- piercing eyes looking into yours.

"Can you be serious for once Satoru! You just saw what happened! I am freaking out alright!?", with a sigh you bit your lip looking away not wanting to look at him

"Why are you scared? You are being pathetic right now baby girl~", he murmured in a dark tone as his warm breath tickled your ears sending chills down your spine before stepping back

"Y-You have the audacity! Gojo Satrou you better-", fuming with anger you looked into his eyes and were met with his eyes tinted red freezing you in your tracks.

Oh shit- OH SHIT- you've fucked up big time

The realization slowly but surely was sinking in, the man in front of you was not your boyfriend anymore but rather a demon who's possessed him

"Y…You aren't Gojo…", stumbling back your body shook- blood pumping hard in your veins sending a rush of heat to your cheeks.

This can't be happening!?

"I am him? What are you talking about love~ you really must be freaked out huh cupcake?~", smirking cockily with hands in his pocket he walked towards you, each step slow and deliberate

"S-Shut up! Gojo would never call me pathetic!"

"Gojo? I am Gojo but I just did that~ what are you going to do about it hm? I am Gojo don't you realize", he leaned in his hot breath on your lips.

At this point, you were cornered- no way out how the hell are you supposed to deal with a demon!? Jujutsu High did not have a manual on it! shit

"You are not!", You hurled your cursed energy toward him punching him in the guts with all your strength- a punch strong enough to have grade-2 curses flying back. To your shock he stood there unfazed.

"How…annoying", with a sigh he locked his eyes with yours, "To think humans developed this huh? Too bad it does not work on me much", with a shrug he grabbed your wrist pulling you close

"You better behave little lamb- unless you want to die", with a slam you were pinned against the wall hands on the sides of your head, "I tried to be nice you know? You just had to not listen- why so disobedient? little dove?", with a frown he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look at him

"You better behave if you want your precious boyfriend alive", licking his lips, "It's been a while since I've tasted human flesh", he whispered eyes darkened with lust.

"You are mine from now on little lamb- you've got a new boyfriend now"

He crashed his lips against yours. …..

The air was full of tension- one wrong move and you are dead meat- your mind was racing with what to do- how the hell do you deal with this? Will searching on WikiHow help? Do they have a tutorial on how to deal with demons? Or how to help your demon possessed boyfriend?

Hell, if it was a curse you would have exorcised it but a demon how do you deal with that?

They say humans when pushed to the brink of their limits do something insane without thinking straight; the rush of adrenaline causes the brain to shift to survival mode. And whatever you did next was not done rationally.

You kissed the demon back

"Hah…", you gazed into the now blue eyes tinted red, "I am gonna get my boyfriend back one way or the other…I'll exorcise you dipshit!", grabbing the collar you glared earning a dark chuckle.

"Oh really? are you? Your boyfriend is now gone~ I have taken over his body little dove- how will you get him back hm?", intrigued the demon kissed your neck chomping down and leaving marks.

"Like…this", the moment the words left your lips you grabbed him by the hair lifted his head, and kissed him deeply tasting him, "Gojo", you whispered between kisses, "You going to let some nobody fuck your dick into me? You called yourself the strongest…you gonna be cuckloaded by yourself huh?"

"You not gonna come and fuck me yourself? All talk were you?", as you continued to spew out whatever came to your head as you kissed him that's when something changed- the energy in the room got more tense.

"Fuck...baby girl", a raspy voice was heard- the familiar tone made your eyes widen, the eyes were now flickering between red and blue, "As if- I am letting this jackass fuck you", sweat dripped down from his forehead to the tip of his chin, chest heaving up and down-

"Gojo!", you cupped his face shakily looking into the now semi-blue and red eyes.

"This demon- hah…to think I'd get possessed how annoying", he grunted with his grip getting tighter around your waist

"It's taking every ounce of my willpower to fight this dipshit...can't let him fuck that cunt eh?", he smirked as he panted with his face flushed.

The way he looked right now- you know it's irrational but- he looked hot; the sweat dripping making his T-shirt cling to his body, shaping the muscles out, and oh his eyes- his eyes so dark and focused- blending between red and blue a beautiful hypnotic gaze- voice raspy- god

What the fuck? Don't possessed people look like shit in movies why does he look so hot!?

"Hah…", as he panted his breath brushed past your lips making your knees weak, "Fuck this shit- I regret this huh?", chuckling weakly he gazed into your eyes

Snapping back to reality you looked at him, "Finally! See I am never wrong! Ugh-", you snapped at him, "What to do! What to do!"

That's when the flickering stopped and the eyes were red again-

"Retard…to think a mere man managed to overpower me- insane bastard", the demon chuckled darkly, "how intriguing- this is a first- to think you hold so much power over this man- that mere words brought his consciousness back?", looking into your eyes he lifted your chin.

"I am going to enjoy this game~", with a swift movement he ripped off your top and bra off

"WHAT THE FUCK!", You screamed scrambling to cover yourself with your hands

"My you scream quite loud for a little lamb- I wonder if I can make you scream louder~", grinning as if riled up by the scent of fear oozing off you the demon was going feral.

He dug his nails into your hips biting down your neck.

'Fuck', you thought to yourself- that's when an idea struck you- holy water- you gotta get holy water! You made sure to get some when Gojo told you about this plan of his first

With a swift movement, you grabbed the holy water kept on the table and poured it over yourself- soaking yourself in it.

The demon screeched as burn marks appeared all over his hands and body- a sizzling sound could be heard from the skin.

"You bitch! You sure got the guts-", glaring at you the eyes of the demon went from red to dark crimson- shit this is bad, "You think you are all that huh?", cutting off your thought process the demon yanked you by the hair boring his eyes into yours

"Holy water- fuck it…even if it hurts the more you fight the more I want you! Rarely has anyone able to do this me", sneering he kissed you

Disgusted you headbutt him catching him a bit off off guard before grabbing the other bottle of holy water; drinking it and forcefully kissing the demon-

His throat burned as he tried to push you off- it was all too much- this is insanity

"Kiss me now you son of a bitch!", you bite his lip forcing the holy water down his throat.

Now this is some crazy exorcism, isn't it?

"Ugh…it's bitter", with a grunt the familiar hazy blue eyes looked into yours, "Damn…my throat hurts- it feels like I drank hot boiling water", coughing Gojo pulled away looking into your eyes- the red was a lot less now.

"Gojo!", tears streamed down your eyes as you hugged him, "Finally! You bastard I hate you!", you sobbed causing him to chuckle.

"I love you too sweetheart~", he kissed you gently before his eyes darkened seeing your appearance.

Half naked- bite marks of the demon on your neck- nail marks on your hips were pissing him off- the messy hair- the scent of holy water on your skin.

How dare he touch what belongs to him?

"He did this- ", biting his lip Gojo pinned you against the wall kissing your neck and leaving bite marks over the bite marks of the demon.

He was feeling extremely possessive right now- you were his- so what if it was a demon? you were his and his alone- heart and soul- after all he'd die for you

Caught off guard by the action you gasp, "G-Gojo! Come back to your senses! god damn it!", you looked into his eyes- blue tinted with red- never have you seen him look so possessive- so feral

It was chilling- yet it made your heart race.

"How can I?- do you know the rage that I am feeling right now?", he whispered darkly- voice thick with tension and cursed energy going batshit crazy- shattering all the glass of windows

"Doll- you are mine and I don't share what's mine", lifting your chin his thumb brushed against your lower lip; the intensity between you two continued to increase to unprecedented levels.

"We gotta get rid of this demon! fuck me later alright?", you blushed slapping his hand away

"Right….", he paused realizing this demon is preventing him from fucking you right now- damn possession really prevents you from getting laid huh?

Taking a deep breath you looked into his eyes- which were still swirling between red and blue, his jaw tight because of the amount of willpower he was using to keep the demon at bay.

"We need to exorcise it out of you…", you sighed.

"Well, how do we do that? I am sure if I lose focus for even 0.1 seconds right now this demon will take over again- I don't want to hurt you nor do I want the demon to use limitless or any of my techniques", grimly he crossed his arms.

"Cursed energy does not exorcise it or else we could have contacted other sorcerers to help out…", annoyed he let out a frustrated sigh.

You are both stuck with what to do that's when an insane idea entered your head- the holy water when you poured it over yourself made the demon back away, and kissing it with holy water also worked- seeing the way it is going- what if- you fucked the demon decked in holy water out of him?

It's never been done before- and it's insane- but; it might just work

"Gojo", deciding to wing it you look into his intense eyes, "Let's fuck", you blurt you making him choke on air.

"W-what? You want to…fuck right now?", he carefully worded out the sentence to make sure he did not hear it wrong.

"Yeah- let's fuck"

Your shameless way of speaking- damn- it was doing things to him- fuck possession really prevents you from fucking because right now all he wanted to do was fuck your brains out

…..

Your idea well it sounded insane to him- this is crazy- literally; it made sense as well- kissing the demon with holy water clearly worked to bring him back for so long- but to fuck you like that?

You decked all in Holy water naked- kissing him with your sweet lips as the bitter taste of holy water burned down his throat; dribbling between both your lips- drops of it slipping down your skin into the most sinful areas imaginable- coating it in a glossy sheen; stinging the hickies he'd leave- your eyes glossy as you moaned begging him. Something about fucking decked in holy water was sending him places.

Imagination was going wild

It was so unholy yet felt so holy

The Holy water ought to purify and cleanse people of their sins, making them untainted forgiving all their sins yet- you decked in holy water was for him to taint you all over again; consume you again and again

Fuck- he's hard

"Doll- are you sure about this?- I don't think I can control myself once we start", wrapping his hands around your waist he brushed his fingers over the marks left by the demon- glancing at the bra and top he'd ripped off- he was jealous- he wanted to be the one to rip it off of you why did the demon get the do that?

He's annoyed- not because he's possessed but because he was not the one to rip it off of you, sure it was his body which the demon was trying to use to fuck you but still its not fair. He really had his priorities straight even when possessed

"I am sure- 'toru- but; will you be able to keep your consciousness? This is going to get intense", wrapping your arms around his neck you whispered concerned seeing how close the demon was to taking over him again

"Hah! As if I'd let this cunt and pussy be fucked by someone else- only I get to stuff it the way I want with my dick", smirking he pulled you closer.

"Don't worry about me- just start baby- I can handle a little possession"

On cue, you soon pour the remaining bottles of holy water all over yourself- water droplets trailing down your curves into the little crevices dripping down your thighs and nipples soaking you

God's grace decking it's love in shimmering and holiest trails, a sanctum for in defiles to witness divinity- is this why men wage wars to witness heaven?

Looking into your eyes as you stood in front of him- so seductive

His mind was swirling with emotions and all the things he wanted to do to you right now seeing you like this. He never thought he could desire you more than he already did- yet here he was- wanting more.

You were like an angel purifying yourself before being consumed by the devil himself- and at this point, he loved being the devil if it meant he got to taste your flesh

Today he was going to be baptized into being admitted into the form of church exclusive to him- You

…..

Crashing his lips against yours- while the demon and he fought for dominance was intense; you were gasping for air while he did not give you any room to breathe.

Groping and touching you all over, fingers flicking your nipples and pinching them as he kissed down your neck- the stimulation was intense.

The burning sensation on his skin stung him badly but the pleasure he was feeling was too great to think of the pain- to think one day he would be fighting being possessed with a demon on being the one to fuck you.

Who would have thought?

"G-Gojo….s-slow down a bit", you gasped as he mercilessly chomped down your skin leaving his marks, "I am not- not today…hah…", biting his lip to maintain consciousness he continued to become even more intense as he left even more marks- digging his nails on your hips.

The Holy water was so bitter- Every inch of his skin was burning as it came to contact with yours, he was on fire- the pain was too much yet it was lust that clouded his mind- he just could not get enough

Tasting the holy water of your lips burned his throat but it felt so right- the pain- the pleasure- the need to focus on fucking you- using RCT to constantly heal the burns- flickering in and out of consciousness with the demon- this was the most intense sex session ever; he felt like he was giving it his all- he was giving his soul to the devil right now

Your body decked in holy water was like salvation for him- if this is what salvation is like- he'd get possessed every second of his life.

Today the phrase, "God is a Woman" made sense because fuck- He's worshiping you right now.

Biting, kissing you all over, his hands leaving fingerprints everywhere in their wake setting your skin on fire; at this point, he's forgotten he's possessed and just kept going- warm tongue gliding over your sensitive skin and sucking on the hickies coating it.

Kisses trailed down your neck to your belly and stomach before burying his face between your legs nose deep- legs wrapped around his neck as he held you pinned against the wall- lapping at your cunt like a dog in heat

The stimulation was too much- he's never been this rough, your pussy was drenched wet as moan after moan spilled out your lips.

"Ah…hah! Gojo 'tis too much- I-I can't!", gasping with tears streaming down your eyes you dug your nails over his shoulders and arched your back desperately holding onto him

"Give it to me baby- cum f'me- I'm gonna teach this demon who owns this cunt", he said in a mumble and daze as his mouth was too busy lapping and drinking your sweet nectar- he was pussy drunk- you tasted more delicious than ever; the bitter holy water on your cunt mixed with your pre-cum made it hard for him to stop.

How could he? He was in heaven right now drinking immortal wine

Eyes rolling back you went over the edge- cumming on his tongue while he drank it all up like it was a sacred fountain of youth- helping you ride off your high

"Fuck baby…you taste so good...", looking into your eyes darkened with such pure primal desire- he was long gone- all he wanted to do right now was just ram his dick into you.

Even if he was beyond redemption- he'd never let the demon fuck you

Still panting and coming down from your high breathless- legs shaking you gazed at him with your glossy eyes and face flushed.

You really felt your consciousness fading- this intensity was unlike you've ever experienced before- sure bondage was intense when you and Gojo were fucking- but this was a whole'nother level of intense

So fucked up, so needy and wet all for him- damn was he really drinking holy water off your skin or was it aphrodisiac?

Without warning he put you in a mean mean mating press against the wall startling you before ramming his dick into your poor gushing cunt- damn he really was not gonna give you even 0.1 second to adjust- cock twitching against your tight walls making you see stars- it felt way too good. You could feel his dick pulsing- the veins- he filled you up so good

Your cunt was gobbling him up choking on his dick- trying to push him out but he was just too big. You felt like a lamb to slaughter- words were slurring- your body was numb at this point; tingly sensations went from your cunt to the tip of your toes and fingers- brain sent to over drive

This was the first time you actually felt the danger- such intense pleasure beyond comprehension, but, gods be dammed it was a feeling so euphoric you want it again- you want to go higher

The way your walls clenched around him so tight- holding onto him as if to never let go- he really felt his dick melting in your cunt- feeling like it was going to be snapped off him; tilting his head back he felt his brain going more numb the only thought he had in his head was to fill your pretty and perfect sobbing cunt with his cum and so he did that

He started to move in and out- in and out- in an unrelenting pace- god he hit all your g-spots so well with each thrust; filling your pussy up with his dick so well- so deep

Only moans and whines could spill out of your mouth, tears covered your face- you did not even remember if you were in reality or fantasy.

He kept going mercilessly and at this point you did not even remember how many times you cummed on his thick cock- feeling your walls hold onto him tighter made him finally go over the edge- with a last thrust he put his dick in deep- hitting your womb making sure to fill you up damn fucking well- after all You were his and seeing his cum dribble out of you was something he loved to see

Both of you exhausted from the intense fucking just collapse on top of each other and lay on the floor.

…..

The sun rays poured in the morning brushing past the curtains and illuminating the room with its warmness- coating everything in a warm sheen as light reflected off of the surfaces. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess that was the living room from the night before

The crooked chalk pentagon still on the floor, the shady book in the center- bottles of holy water littered all over the floor- ripped clothes which were more like rags scattered across the floor- glasses from the windows still cover the corner of the floor; if anyone saw this it would be very hard to explain what happened

Laying and hugging him with his arms wrapped around your waist and keeping you close was quite an oxymoron compared to the living room- the sunlight blanketed you and him with its rays as if giving a gentle nudge to two lovers to wake up knowing the moon witnessed all the secrets of lovers intertwined at night.

"Hmmm…", hazily Gojo woke up from his sleep and sat up glancing at you and seeing all the marks and fingerprints painting every inch of your skin hit him like a ton of bricks remembering the insanity which was the previous night.

"Baby?", cooing at you softly he pulled you close to him, "Are you alright?", looking at you with his puppy eyes he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck- inhaling the scent.

"my back…it's completely gone", you whined sleepily about the sharp pain and ache you felt all over your body damn only now do you realize how intense was last night.

Smirking he caressed and traced your spine straddling you on his lap and earning a slap on his wrist, "Where do you think your hands are going huh? I have not forgiven you for getting me involved in this shit!", pouting you glared at him which in his eyes only made you look cuter.

"Ouch! Sorry baby- I really won't get shady books from that store anymore", humming his squeezed your thighs making you squirm, "Though- I really wanna fuck like that again ya know? You looked so hot taking me so well decked in holy water", whispering near your ears in a deep voice sent shivers up and down your spine annoying you at the same time.

"Hmph as if! Are you crazy!?", blushing you flicked his forehead, "Awww so mean~ baby girl!", dramatically he covered his face, "Ugh…", you sighed seeing him being the droopy golden retriever

How can he be so hot and fuck you like a ragdoll and then act like this- as if he could do no wrong; as if he is such an innocent guy. It really made you wonder just what goes on in his brain.

But low-key no wait scratch that- high-key you'd like to see him like that again looking so feral- the gaze, the raspy voice just thinking about it made your stomach do flip flops- as long you two fuck the demon out of him- does it matter?

Seeing your expression he knew he had you exactly where he wanted- he knew you were as much of an insane person just as he was, "So~ is someone into it huh?", grinning he licked one of the hickies on your neck from last night making goosebumps spread across your skin.

"I-I'm not…", you whisper with your face red, "Really…then why is she so wet huh?", smirking he caressed your cunt circling the clitoris and smacking it sending waves of pleasure down your body, "T'Toru!", you whined- it stung so much yet it made you so wet, "What baby~?", he cooed and flicked his finger making you gasp, "I-…I….I'll think about it", coughing not wanting to admit your own arousal at the thought of fucking again like last night you averted eyes.

"Alright~", grinning he licked the outer shell of your ears kissing you hard

"I'll be waiting", humming satisfied you both cuddled together.

But don't let your guard down yet after all the greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing the world he did not exist- and will hit you at your least vulnerable

Better stock up on holy water who knows when the devil will hit you again? After all with the kind of person Gojo was you doubt this would be your last rodeo.

Here is a link to my Masterlist! Thanks for reading~ Meal is served my lovely followers <3 sorry for being gone for so long~

[winterarmyy]

Behind The Facades | Part I

An unrequited pining over a certain super soldier.

Summary: In which Y/N is pining over Bucky while she watch him wrap his arms around someone else.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 1.2k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. just pure angst and pain.

P/S: i'm feeling melancholy all of the sudden, therefore this idea was born. It's a very short one but I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

"Never let your true feelings show." was one and if not the most important lesson Y/N learned from where she was trained before becoming an agent under the avengers program.

It was so deeply etched within her very being, that the habit had became as natural as breathing the air into her lungs.

"Keep that mask on, and no one will be able ever break you." They said.

So, she did exactly that.

She giggled when Bucky told her about how he managed to make a fool of himself when he attempted to flirt a girl that he had fallen for at that bar he regularly went to.

He really shouldn't read those random top 10 pickuplines articles on Google anymore.

Tears were threaten to fall, as her shoulders shook in silent laughter, "Really, Barnes? I thought you were the ladies man back in the 40's"

"Exactly. 'Were' . Now, I am clearly not. Urghh, I can't believe I let that birdbrain convince me that these 'pickuplines' would do the trick."

Despite his gruff annoyance towards Sam, she could see a tinge of red shade on Bucky's cheek; probably feel embarrassed from what happened.

Gulping down whatever drink he had in his glass Bucky huffed, "Honestly, I don't think any sane person would even consider to approach me, let alone date me." His sharp gaze wavered into something more vulnerable.

Though he didn't mention anything about his history but when he shifted his view to the metal of his left hand, Y/N knew what he meant.

Y/N gaze softens, "I'm here with you. Am I not?" Her nails dug into the skin of her thighs as she held back from wanting to touch him, kiss him, hold him; to whisper sweet nothings in his ears in hopes that it would shut whatever doubts he has of himself even for just a moment.

There was a swift glaze over Bucky's eyes. As if he realized something but his words seems to deny his revelation, "I said 'sane person', Y/N."

Y/N gasped with an exaggerated perplex on her expression, "Sargent James Buchanan Barnes..." she purposely called him by his title, hoping it will remind him that he should have the reputation of a respectful man, "... are you accusing me of losing my sanity?"

Bucky shrugs with a face of pure innocence, "In this tower? We all are. But, especially you." a playful smirk tugged the corner of his lips as he waited to witness her reaction.

She stifled a laugh when she heard a knock on her door and then greeted by what looked like a mountain flower, and in between them was Bucky.

He had impulsively bought almost half a dozen bouquet of flowers because he couldn't decided which one of them is pretty enough for his date.

He shyly laughed it off when she told him "You could've face-timed me at the shop instead of ended up buying this much of flowers, Buck."

"God, you're right, doll. Why didn't I thought of that?" He frowned as he sighed.

"Because you're old and forgetful, that's why." Y/N teased as she leaned to the door frame, arms folded across her chest.

Bucky rolled his eyes before sending a glare towards her, "You're not going to stop mentioning my age in everything, are you?" he grumbled.

He might not know it but Y/N managed to noticed a tiny pout on his lips; something only, as they said, Steve can notice. That slight difference on his lowers lips; a very minimal protrude, barely noticable.

But secretly, she can see it too. And it was something she wished she could brag about, something she could tell the world; how lucky she was to be able to notice those little things about him.

She chuckled with an answer, "Never."

Another grumble escaped from Bucky somewhere behind the bouquets, before he presented a particular set towards Y/N, "Anyway, this is for you." He acts reluctant but she knew he was always sincere with actions.

Her eyes skimmed through the gorgeous arrangement of daisies; her favourite.

For a mere second, she let her heart flutter and a genuine smile bloomed on her lips; however the truth was not supposed to surface.

If Bucky was not blinded by the bouquet, he would've seen how the joyous glint her eyes faded even if her smile was still intact.

"Bribery is an act against the law, you do know that right, Sargent?" Nevertheless, her hands reached out to take the gift.

Bucky chuckled in response, "Yes, ma'am. I do."

She smiled when Bucky's love-struck gaze shines when he told her about his first kiss with that lucky lady, during one of those midnight coffee trips she share with him at the pantry.

He should've seen how beautiful he looked that night; free of worries and caught in pure joy.

"It was..." Bucky sighed in content; he was so happy he lost his words. As he tried to find the right description of the kiss, she could see his gaze softens.

Y/N knew he was recalling the kiss, but she couldn't help but to fall for him all over again; not that it's not a recurring event everyday but she really did felt as if her heart stopped for more than necessary.

'He's so happy.' She thought to herself. 'Then, I should be happy for him too'

So she did exactly how it supposed to be done.

"Mirror their feelings; that way your true feelings will never show."

Y/N did exactly that.

That one habit that had lead Y/N to countless of undercover missions.

The same missions that left Y/N with one of the highest rate of successful inflitration, unharmed.

And yet, the facade she wore seemed to failed her this time.

Why didn't work?

Why does it hurts?

The longer she kept the mask on, the more it burns from within.

"Keep that mask on, and no one will be able ever break you."

Then, why does her heart aches as if it was falling apart?

Y/N could feel how weak her knees were becoming, she had to lean on counter tops for support. The slow ballad filling the living room, leaking to the pantry from where she stood and watched.

Oh, she loved this song.

She wrapped her shivering hands around the warm cup of coffee that she made as she watched the couple danced. And the longer her longing gaze linger on Bucky, the blurrier her vision get.

"Y/N..." Natasha softly grazed the side of Y/N's arm. How could she not notice Natasha coming in. Must have been her widow effect.

"You're breaking, honey." Natasha was meaning to imply about Y/N's heart but she was so set on hiding her feelings she thought Natasha meant differently, "I know." She replied as she sipped on the warm drink.

Her facades are breaking.

Her hazy vision remained on the, now shadows of the dancing couple, "I will put up a new one." She didn't even notice how her own voice cracked.

Tears overflowed from the corner of her eyes, "Just let this one crumble." Her lips trembled as she told the truth, "Cause I don't think I can fix this."

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I'm thinking to have more of this couple; should i do it? Any thoughts?

[iiseult]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝓌𝑜: 𝒜𝓈 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒥𝑒𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓂

CWs →  fluff, ANGST, historical inaccuracies, slow burn, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, eventual smut (once reader and baldwin are both over 18), leprosy, time-period accurate sexism, arranged marriage, descriptions of birth (not the reader), blood and mild gore (they don’t call it the dark ages for nothin!), one-sided pining

Wordcount: 5.1k

Note: Remember like three weeks ago when I lied to you all and said I’d have this out in a few days? I had to plan out a bit of the actual plot so that’s what took me so long. But I finally did it, so eat up! Also, I really do NOT know how medieval royal weddings worked but the shallow google searches I made weren’t good enough so let’s all hope this isn’t horribly inaccurate, though I’m sure it is. Do we care, chat?

Every day leading up to the wedding was a day that you saw red. Greeting your traitorous mother in the mornings made you see red, sharing a meal with your power-hungry father made you see red, and listening to the two of them prattle on about how you ought to behave once you were queen? That turned the world absolutely crimson. Each night, you crumpled up and clutched your skirts under the dinner table with shaking fists, creasing them with deep wrinkles that would take days to iron out, but all the while you continued to hold your head high, speaking only when spoken to just as you were taught as a girl. Your strained, thin-lipped smile was only let go of in the privacy of your own bedchambers, when it was replaced with a cold expression and even chillier disposition. Somehow, drifting apart from your family day by day wasn’t as painful as you had imagined it would be. It was easy, really, because there was nothing left for anyone to talk about. After all, your mother had always taught you that if you had nothing nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all. However, your sudden “demureness and obedience”, as they put it, did not go unnoticed. 

Your parents were positively delighted with your recent change, or “improvement,” in attitude. Your lady mother congratulated you for finally agreeing to fulfill your societal role as a subservient wife and mother– an aspect of life of which you had previously been a bit resentful– and your father perpetually reminded you how beneficial this marriage would be to the rest of your bloodline. Even your younger brothers seemed excited for you, constantly coming up with new questions to pester you with regarding life as royalty. The only thing keeping you sane was the knowledge that soon you’d be living far, far away from your conniving parents, free to do whatever you wished. Whichever benefits a royal connection brought them would be nothing compared to your own guaranteed lavish lifestyle. You’d soon have your own castle, your own servants, and even your own soldiers! Oh, and the husband, too. You kept forgetting about that part. 

In some ways, the fact that he was a leper was a great relief to you. That meant you’d most likely be spared many of the wifely duties you had so been dreading; mainly, consummating the marriage. At your age, only 14 years old yet, there was nothing that interested you about the male body, giving birth, or raising children. It was not so long ago that you had helped raise your own little brothers, and the idea of going through all of that again made you feel so trapped. Not to mention the fact that giving birth was extremely dangerous. And painful. And frightening. That thought caused a memory you had been repressing for years to resurface from the depths of your mind, like a buoy in the ocean. It was the tortured screams of your mother the night your youngest brother was born. Had you not known better, you might have thought she was being ripped in two, and the labor lasted for so many endless, terrible hours, which felt more like days. You remembered the midwives rushing around, and the maids leaving your mother’s room with armful after armful of blood-soaked sheets and sloshing buckets of burgundy water. As they passed the place where you were hugging your knees in the corridor, a drop fell at your feet and sunk slowly into the stone floor, leaving nothing but a small round stain. 

Once it was time to leave your family home for the castle, you said goodbye to the view from your window, which you had become well-accustomed to. It was probably the thing you’d miss most, besides your brothers. You closed your bedroom door for the last time and meandered down the familiar, dimly-lit corridor, taking note of the particular stone which was still adorned by that tiny dot of brownish red. A shiver ran down your spine. You opted out of doing a final sweep to make sure you’d packed all of your belongings, because soon enough, you’d have better things to replace them with, anyway. The knights they’d sent for you had loaded your bags onto their horses about an hour ago and set off for your new home. Now, the only thing left to transport was you. 

Another knight was waiting for you outside with a large white horse. He watched as you hugged your mother and father stiffly, pretending not to notice your mother’s tears as she kissed you on the forehead like she used to when you were younger. Before you were a lady. Before you were the queen of Jerusalem. Your father said nothing, but his somber expression and the distant look in his eyes and the loose grip he had on your hand as he kissed the top of it told you everything you needed to know. The knight helped you mount the horse and get comfortable sitting behind him, and you waved goodbye to your family as you were carried away, truly intending it to be for everything you had ever known. But whatever sadness you might have been feeling was overpowered by sheer determination. Now, at 14 years old, your life was finally beginning.  

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The knight who sat in front of you on the horse did not turn out to be a very good conversationalist. The only responses you could draw out of him were along the lines of “Yes, Your Majesty,” or “No, Your Majesty.” You were hoping for someone a bit more…engaging, perhaps, as you were feeling an odd mixture of excitement and anxiety that grew with each and every gallop towards Jerusalem. And anxiety always made you talkative. 

“Is it fun at all, being a knight?” You shouted over the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, breaking the long silence that you had been enduring since the beginning of the journey. 

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?”

“You know, protecting the kingdom and such. Isn’t it exciting? I find the idea to be absolutely thrilling! Don’t you think so?” 

He paused for a moment, and then replied flatly, “Yes, Your Majesty.” 

You pursed your lips, waiting in silence for a few moments, expecting him to elaborate, but no such luck. Was it really so hard to share a gory battle tale or two to pass the time? You knew knights were known for having excellent integrity and virtuousness, meaning they would never say something that could potentially scare a lady, but couldn’t he humor you just this once, while you were alone? But maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it, you thought, imagining how burdensome it must be to know the feeling of cutting someone’s head off. So, you graciously changed the subject and mentally patted yourself on the back for being so kind and just. It simply wouldn’t do, as future queen of Jerusalem, to force sensitive information out of this poor, traumatized knight for your own fleeting amusement. Maybe a few months earlier and it would have been acceptable, but alas. You sighed.

“This noble steed of yours is breathtaking. Does he have a name?” you questioned, admiring the animal’s snow-white pelt, entranced by the way its powerful muscles rippled beneath it.

“I do not know, Majesty. This horse belongs to the king. It is the only one His Majesty trusts, so he instructed me to collect you using it.” Another memory flashed through your mind, this time of your first meeting with your future husband. He had been riding this very horse that day, its stunning color matching that of his robes. Your heart fluttered at the idea that he’d cared so deeply for your safety, although it shouldn’t have surprised you. It was not as if he had parents forcing him into this marriage. He was accepting you in holy matrimony for some other reason, a reason entirely of his own. His own choice. A blush crept up the back of your neck, and you were suddenly thankful for the fact that the knight was facing away from you. You cleared your throat nervously. 

“Well, what’s it like, working for the king? Is he nice?” 

You felt the knight’s huge sigh before you heard it, your arms that were wrapped around his midsection rising and falling in tandem with the breath. 

“Yes, Your Majesty, the king is very…nice.”

“Is that all?” you muttered, rolling your eyes at his reservedness. You got the hint. You understood he didn’t want to talk, that much he had made very apparent, but that was just too damn bad. As queen of Jerusalem, you wanted to get to know your subjects, and who better to start with than the one sharing a horse with you? 

“Will I have my own chambers, or shall I share with the king?” You asked, holding back a giggle at the expression you were imagining the knight had on his face. 

“I am sure you will be provided with your own chambers, Your Majesty, but the choice of whether to use them or not will be entirely yours and your husband’s,” he replied, a hint of dry humor in his voice. You let out a loud laugh, which actually startled him a little, and then followed it up with another. 

“I wonder if he snores!” you said, between giggles. The knight smiled, shaking his head. After that, the journey to Jerusalem was easy. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The next time you laid eyes on the king was when you were getting married, standing opposite each other in an architectural marvel of a cathedral, both dressed in extravagant clothing and expensive jewelry. His silver mask had recently been polished, and it shone beautifully in the sun, but still not as beautifully as his blue eyes. They were as you remembered them, only a bit brighter. His gold-trimmed robes were as white as ever, freshly washed and perfumed for the occasion. Even the gloves on his hands looked new and clean. You admired them as the priest rambled on in front of you. If God was listening right now, you thought, he’d surely be bored to tears. There was one part of the day you had enjoyed, though, which was the preparation for the wedding. You had been doted on by countless maids all morning, lining your eyes with black powder and weaving your hair into an intricate, interlocking braid pattern. The gown was altered to fit you perfectly, and the large, bell-like sleeves fell around your arms like wings. You were finally beginning to feel like a real queen. 

The ceremony seemed to drag on forever, but you passed the time by maintaining eye contact with King Baldwin. You drowned out the rest of the world and focused only on him. When you smiled, he smiled back. You could only see the corners of his eyes crinkling, but you knew what that meant. You cocked your head to the side, trying to imagine what his smile really looked like. During that evening you spent with him, you hadn’t gotten the chance to see it. Just as soon as he had taken off the mask, he had to put it back on. The consequences of your parents seeing Baldwin’s face would have been disastrous, but thankfully, their loud footsteps and jovial voices had carried quite well down the corridor, warning you of their arrival. Regardless of how short they were, those few seconds you’d spent admiring his bare face were enough to conjure up a half-formed image of what his smile might look like. However, that image disappeared when you saw him cock his head to the side, too, just as you had. You blinked twice. 

He blinked twice, too. 

Was he copying you on purpose? 

You shifted your feet, and he mirrored you, his robes shimmering like the ocean as they fluttered around him. You bit back a giggle. He was. Flames of mischief danced in his eyes, and something else, too, ignited there when you grinned at him. 

“…that these rings shall forever remained blessed, O Merciful Lord. Amen,” said the priest, approaching the king with a book, two rings laid on top of it. Suddenly, Baldwin became very serious, plucking one of the rings between his slender, gloved fingers and holding it gently. You stared as it glistened in the sunlight, which was penetrating the stained glass windows and casting colorful shadows around the altar. He slowly stepped towards you, making your heart begin to beat faster. His head stayed bowed as he presented you with his open palm. You held your breath and lifted your left hand, gingerly brushing your fingertips against his palm, now understanding what was about to happen. He effortlessly glided the ring onto your fourth finger, where it rested beautifully. The diamond glittered like water, mesmerizingly. Baldwin wrapped his fingers around your hand, now holding it as gently as he could, and the priest was now presenting you with a ring. You followed Baldwin’s lead, pushing it onto his fourth finger, which was waiting outstretched for you patiently. You stood mere inches apart, fingers of your left hands interwoven as the priest finished the prayers. The ring, as breathtaking as it was, was somehow still only secondary to the cerulean eyes of your now-husband, which were like two rich sapphires lined with delicate blonde hairs. 

“…And may God bless, preserve, and keep you, that you may have life and love everlasting. I pronounce that you now be man and wife together, in the Name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

The cathedral filled with polite claps and murmurs of “amen” as Baldwin released your hand and you turned to face the pews. Next to you, much to your surprise, he quickly dropped to his knees, his body angled towards you, clasping your fair hand between his. You gazed down at him through your lashes, suddenly feeling your cheeks burn. Boldly, Baldwin drew one hand up to his masked face, grasping it by the nose and swiftly pulling it to the side so that it was hiding his face from the crowd, but revealing it to you. He lifted your hand to his pink lips and pressed a searing kiss to it, liberally letting the physical contact linger, all the while maintaining eye contact with you from under his furrowed brow. You covered your mouth with your other hand to try and hide the toothy grin spreading across your face. He saw it anyway. The next thing you knew, he was grinning, too. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and laughed. He laughed. You realized that you no longer had to imagine what his smile looked like. 

After the wedding ceremony, you were promptly bombarded by happy civilians wishing to congratulate you, or simply to catch a glimpse of their new queen, and Baldwin was whisked away by his mother, who seemed to be perpetually by his side. It seemed that she was not quite ready yet to surrender the role of Baldwin’s caretaker to you– but you had no gripes with that. You figured you’d grow into the role of loving, doting wife, as opposed to starting it right away, and unfortunately, the idea of changing his bandages each night before bed still made you shudder. In reality, his mother was not exactly thrilled about the marriage, either. She hadn’t found you or your family quite noble enough for her precious son. However, she was smart enough to see that it was unlikely that anyone else would ever volunteer their daughter to marry a leper, so she begrudgingly allowed the union. 

From the crowd, two plainly dressed women had introduced themselves to you as Matilda and Amelia, claiming that they were to be your servants. They would apparently be with you at all times, tending to your every whim and aiding you during your ascent to the throne, as well as bathing you and dressing you. Matilda was an older, more severe woman who had immediately intimidated you; her lips were drawn together thinly and permanently pursed, creating deep wrinkles around her mouth, and the rest of her face was an intricate web of creases and lines. Her graying hair was pulled back tightly, exposing her thinning hairline and sun-spotted forehead. Even her hands looked harsh, the skin rough and dry, cracking in some places, like mud that had been baking under the summer sun for too long. Amelia was quite the opposite; a timid, pretty young thing with wide brown eyes, fair hair, and a delicate frame. She’d barely had the courage to tell you her name, and rushed into the curtsey to avoid having to make eye contact with you for too long. She seemed to be around the same age as you, if not even younger.

After the attendees from the wedding had mostly dispersed, Matilda brought you back inside the castle to finally see your bedchamber, which you were to have all to yourself. She and Amelia led you through winding corridors and beautiful flowering courtyards, pointing out all the most significant landmarks along the way, such as the great hall, the kitchen, the maid’s chambers, the library, the chapel, the towers, the gardens, and the hundreds of guest bedrooms with conjoined washrooms. The last thing she showed you before your own room was the king’s quarters, which were directly across from yours. 

“Now, Amelia, go draw us a bath. There’s no need for two of us to be standing around here idly while the Queen inspect her chambers,” she ordered, and Amelia nodded, scurrying away to the washroom silently. 

As Matilda threw open the giant oak doors of your room, you couldn’t help but gasp, suddenly rooted to the spot. It was glorious. Taking up the majority of the room was a massive bed with four handsome posts, all carved with intricate floral patterns and stained a deep brown. The mattress was topped with overly-stuffed burgundy throw pillows and a comforter to match. Connecting to the four posts was a frame, from which wine-colored velvet curtains hung to give you some privacy. The same fabric was used to shroud the windows, which were floor-length and leaded. At the foot of the bed lay a pile of bags and wrapped items– all of your belongings from home! On the wall across from them was a large dressing table, covered in jewels and precious metals and bottles of fine-smelling oils. A small, round stool with a cushion on it sat underneath. Your eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn’t help but abandon Matilda in the doorway, running and throwing yourself face-first onto the bed, just like you used to at home. You giggled and kicked your feet up into the air, unsurprisingly beginning to sink into the plush mattress. Immediately, you felt your body melt against the malleable, pillowy surface, deciding that you definitely approved of its fine quality. Your bed from back home simply couldn’t compare. However, your glee was short-lived, because it was abruptly interrupted by a stern voice. 

“Your Majesty! You must cease this behavior at once and right yourself! That wedding gown is priceless, and you mustn’t risk causing it any damage!” Matilda scolded, pulling you up by the arm and frantically kneeling to check the delicate garment for any possible tears or imperfections. You winced and apologized quietly, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your juvenile behavior. She was right. As a matter of fact, most things in the palace were probably priceless, and it wouldn’t do to act so impulsively, to be so unladylike. Even you, in your youth, knew better than that. You crossed your arms over your chest, beginning to feel rather insecure upon realizing just how much you had to learn about life as royalty. 

“Come, child, it is time to undress. You must be bathed and prepared for your wedding night,” Matilda called, holding out a hand, her voice much more soft and gentle this time.

You gulped, not wanting to think about that, preferring to cross that bridge when you got to it. She bustled over to the magnificent dressing table, pulling out the stool for you to sit on. You obliged, seating yourself in front of her and watching in the mirror as her spindly fingers deftly unwound your intricate braids. It was relaxing, the feeling of her experienced hands nimbly dancing around your scalp, so you let the buildup of tension from the day slowly seep out of your muscles, loosening up more and more every second that passed. Soon, she was finished, and helped you to your feet, ordering you to keep your arms out straight as she undressed you. She pulled out pins from here and there, untied laces all around, and in a matter of minutes you were ready for your bath. 

The water was warm and steaming as you stepped in, your skin breaking out into goosebumps at the feeling. Rose petals floated across the surface of the water, giving the entire washroom a fresh scent. As you expected, Amelia was waiting for you silently, brush in hand, ready to scrub you vigorously from head to toe. You braced yourself, expecting the rough bristles to be painful, but once she began working attentively, it wasn’t so bad at all. Yes, they were scratchy, but that’s exactly what you needed to get rid of all the dirt and dead skin. She lathered you in delicate smelling soap and added some more fragrant oils to the water, letting you soak until your skin had absorbed all the moisture it possibly could. Not a single inch of you was neglected by the time the water had grown cold, at which point you got out and were dried with a fluffy white towel. 

Next, you were ushered back into your chambers and changed into a pretty blue gown made of satin, which apparently “complimented the color of the kings’ eyes perfectly,” according to Matilda. You felt your gut twist at the mention of him, at the prospect of being alone in a room with him and that piercing gaze again. Now that you were man and wife, everything was different. You had a duty to fulfill, and it seemed to be unavoidable, despite how young and vulnerable you were. Despite how averse to it you might be. Your mother had told you all about it, about how it would only last a few minutes if you were lucky, and that you just had to breathe deeply and count the seconds until it was over. How it happened to every woman at some point in her life, and that what follows would be completely and utterly worth every second of endurance. How rewarding it was to raise a child, or two children, or as many as your womb could bear. But no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself, you were still scared. You didn’t want that yet. You were only 14. 

But before attending to your marital duties, first, there was dinner. You were seated at the complete opposite end of the table as Baldwin, as far as physically possible away from him, despite the fact that he was the only person there you had ever spoken to. You were too far away to be able to tell if he was even looking at you from under his mask. Next to him was his mother, who proceeded to shoot you sideways glances the entire night. The rest of the table was filled with noble men and women whom you did not recognize, their titles unfamiliar to you and the lands they hailed from even more obscure. You picked at your food and tried to stay as silent as possible to avoid making a mockery of yourself on your first night as Queen of Jerusalem. Sooner than you had hoped, dinner had concluded, and you were taken aside by Matilda, who pulled you into an empty corridor as the guests began filtering out of the castle. 

“Child, do you know what is expected of you on your wedding night?” She asked, her voice low so that nobody except the two of you could hear the subject matter at hand. You took a deep breath and straightened you back in an attempt to appear more mature, before replying, 

“Yes, I will lie down and be still and hope that I am blessed with a child.” 

The woman smiled at you and clasped your shoulder, seemingly approving of your answer. 

“Exactly right, my dear. The king will call on you when he is ready, so you may go back to your room and occupy your time with an activity of your choosing until you are collected.” 

You nodded solemnly and thanked her before slowly making your way back to your room, trying to take as long as possible in an attempt to actually slow down time. Upon deeper reflection during this walk, you came to the conclusion that it was not being alone with the king that you were afraid of, but rather the act of consummating the marriage, which was, of course, something he had every right to do with you that night. It was the correct course of action. It was what all newlyweds did, no matter how young and afraid they were. Did he know what he was doing, you wondered, or was he just as oblivious as you? You couldn’t imagine the young king being oblivious about much of anything, in all honesty. He was far too intelligent– something you had seen for yourself over that game of chess. 

Once you arrived at your room, Amelia was waiting at the door for you, an even more wide-eyed look on her face than usual. Uh oh, you thought to yourself. 

“His Majesty the King has requested your presence in his chambers, Your Highness,” she said quietly, bowing her head as she spoke. How did he get here so fast? You thought to yourself, terror rising in your chest. Amelia watched in half fear and half amusement as you frantically wiped your clammy hands on the bodice of your dress and ran your fingers through your hair, which was cascading down your shoulders freely. She was young, too, and unwed, and the idea of a wedding night was something that made her stomach churn as well, so she offered you a sympathetic look and watched as you dragged your feet across the hall, knocking on the imposing oak doors of the king’s bedchambers. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Baldwin had never been so jittery in his life. As he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for you to arrive, he fidgeted with his gloves, pulling them off by the fingers and then pulling them on again, over and over. All throughout dinner he had been gazing across the table at you, ignoring his mother’s neverending ranting as you stared down at your plate. Though you were only a blue blur with a vaguely maidenlike shape from where he was sitting, he was still completely enchanted, his heart beating in his throat every time you looked up in his general direction. He wondered if you could tell he was looking at you. Since the hour you were wed, he was able to think of nothing but you; your dazzling smile, your gorgeous hair, your playful sense of humor, the way the light in the cathedral illuminated your eyes. As the servants bathed him in strong-smelling medicinal herbs and wrapped the raw areas of skin with fresh bandages, he daydreamed about your voice, your laugh. And now, as he sat on the edge of his bed, awaiting your imminent arrival, he thought of practically everything except you. 

He panicked about the state of his body, the pressure of consummating a marriage, the burden of fathering a child at such a young age. He panicked about the weight of ruling an entire kingdom all by himself, no longer able to entrust the brunt of the work to Raymond, and of being a suitable husband. He panicked about how many years he might even have left, if his illness continued to progress. But every worry, every fear, every doubt left his mind as soon as he heard you knock on his door. 

He leapt to his feet, hastily pulling his left glove all the way back on and bounding over to the door, throwing it open wide with a grin on his face, to reveal… you, standing there, gaunt and sweating, looking like you had just suffered a bout of cholera. The smile on his face fell a bit, but it couldn’t be wiped completely clean. At least he could finally be with his bride, his love, his queen. 

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you murmured, your head bowed, pointing down at your shoes, as well as the freshly polished ones directly across from you. 

“Good evening, my Queen,” he breathed, heart beating quickly as you shuffled into his room. He closed the door behind you, letting it shut with a ‘click’ before following you over to the middle of the room, where you hovered like a ghost, still staring at the ground and clasping your hands tightly in front of you. A tense, silent moment passed, and still, you didn't move. Whatever was left of his smile faded from his unmasked face, and the panic from earlier began to return, crashing over him in icy waves. Why wouldn’t you look at him? He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from leg to leg. 

“Are you feeling very well tonight, my lady?” He asked tentatively, shuffling a bit closer. 

You sucked in a sharp breath and suddenly turned, stiltedly making your way over to the bed. 

“Let’s just get this started then, shall we?” You said tersely, laying down on your back on the plush covers and screwing your eyes shut tightly. 

“I am ready.” 

King Baldwin stared at you blankly, frozen in the middle of the room, and completely panicking. No, no, no, this was all wrong, this was not how he wanted it to go…he absolutely did not want to force you into it, to do anything you didn’t also want…and you clearly didn't want it. You were lying there, as stiff as a board. This was the final straw for him.

He wasn’t ready for it yet either, he decided. He would just have to lie to his mother. When she discovered that the queen was, in fact, not pregnant, he would blame it on his own body, claiming to be infertile. It was probably true, at any rate. He took a deep breath, feeling shame and embarrassment at not being able to consummate his own marriage rise to his cheeks, and spoke three words, 

“You may go,” 

And those were the last three words he spoke to you for the next three years. 

Note: I'll give you a kiss if you can count how many times I reference you being the "Queen of Jerusalem" in this chapter.

[lunarpeonie]

midnight in the ocean

In which Geto is a sweet pea and tries to help you, but you’re just not a morning person. 

2.2k words, fluff

Mornings were easily your least favorite part of the day. You were a night owl and as such, spent the dark hours of the night searching random questions on Google like Why are clouds white? and scrolling through Tiktok. However, recently your late night plans had been foiled by a certain long haired, gauge wearing sorcerer whose name might rhyme with meadow. Geto had been on a crusade to get you to bed earlier ever since you had slept through three alarms and six phone calls from him the morning of a semi-important (read: very important) mission a week earlier. So what if you had been a little late? A few hours late when a curse had been there for weeks really didn’t make a difference. (Only… it did. You had been assigned the mission with specific directions to attack the curse at sunrise because that had been its weakest point during the day, before it could take cover in a dark crevasse of the abandoned building it was inhabiting. Something about it being manifested by people’s fear of the dark and it being afraid of the rising sun. Instead of an easy fight like you had expected, you had been thrown through a few more walls than you would’ve liked.) 

Ever since, Geto had been trying his hardest to get you to bed early to avoid any other possible incidents. He was being ‘responsible.’ Whatever.

Attempt 1

First, he had taken your phone and hid it deep within the confines of his baggy pants after returning to the dorms from an outing with your classmates.

“Are you serious right now? Give me my phone back, Geto.” He shot you back his tight lipped smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons. 

“Ah, no can do. You need to start a habit of getting to bed earlier. What better way to do that than to rid yourself of your main distraction?” Your jaw dropped. The audacity of this man to act like you were an unruly child in need of parenting. Sure, was it a little irresponsible to keep up your night owl activities when you had to be up early in the morning some days? Yes, you could admit that. But that didn’t mean you needed someone else, someone your own age, to parent you.

“If you think that putting my phone in your pants is going to stop me from getting it, you really must not know me well enough.” You challenged, eyes narrowing so that he knew you meant business. He just continued to smile back at you in a way that was starting to feel a little condescending. 

“Try it.” 

This had ended with you crouching on top of Geto, foot to his neck, and hand fishing down his pants. (Awkward in retrospect, but you were desperate and on a mission to get your phone before your favorite Tiktoker went on live for the night. You only wished that Gojo hadn’t been walking by at the same time. He now had a plethora of pictures from what he deemed “the indecent incident” and was determined to remind you of it every chance he got.) 

Attempt 2

The next thing Geto tried was another tactic that made you feel like an unruly 5 year old. A knock on your dorm door had you pausing the DIY rug making video you had been watching and rolling your desk chair over to answer it. Standing on the other side of it was Geto wearing his signature smile once again. He was clad in his silky black pajamas and had his eye mask sitting on top of his head. 

“Can I help you with something?” You rolled your eyes, knowing that him showing up at your door at 11PM meant he was trying to prove a point. 

“Yes, you can.” He said cheerily. Much too cheerily for past 10. This was ‘me’ time that he was interrupting. “You can try these.” He held up a purple jar with Z’s plastered on the label. “Maybe then you can get to bed at a reasonable hour. You do know that we are supposed to be on the road to exorcize that cursed spirit at the elementary school by 8AM tomorrow?” You stuck out your hand to grab the jar and leaned your head closer to the label to see exactly what he meant by these. 

For a healthy sleep cycle. SLEEP! No next day grogginess! 

“Are these…” You started, “Melatonin gummies?” He happily nodded his head, his inky bangs swaying back and forth as he did so. You could feel your blood pressure rising with irritation that he had interrupted your ‘me’ time for something so stupid. You still had 20 minutes left on your rug making video and there could be dire consequences if you didn’t finish it. Didn’t he understand that? So, out of frustration, you aimed for the biggest target (his head) and threw. 

You were late again the next morning. 

Attempt 3

It was a few days later when sitting at a bench along the many walkways around the school, ready to chow down on your lunch of leftover pepperoni pizza, Geto plopped down on the bench beside and laid a white, half moon shaped contraption between you. 

“Uh, what is that thing?” You asked with a mouthful of pizza, closing the latest edition of a teen gossip magazine that you had been lazily flipping through. 

“A sound machine, it makes a variety of sounds and the reviews say that it helps put babies to sleep.” You could already feel a vein throbbing on your forehead at the thought of Geto treating you like a kid once again. He began pressing buttons on the machine to show you just how many it made. After shuffling through fan noises, whale noises, and copious static noises, you placed your hand on top of his as a signal to stop. 

Closing your eyes, the words began to roll out before you could stop them, “Look, it’s not that I’m against going to bed early and going on a normal sleep routine. I go to bed late because I have a hard time sleeping by myself. At home, I always had someone around. I shared a room with my sister, so I never had to sleep alone. I just… don’t feel safe when I sleep alone.” You sighed, feeling embarrassed to admit the real reason behind your wacky sleep schedule. 

Geto’s signature smile lit up his face. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? We could’ve had this solved so much sooner!”

“Yeah, how?” You asked, confused and eyebrow raised. 

“I’ll just sleep in your room from now on.” Time screeched to a halt. Birds stopped chirping. Wind stopped flowing. Did… you hear him correctly? 

“Do you know how seriously indecent it is for you to propose something like that?!? What kind of girl do you take me for??” You rolled up the magazine you had been flicking through and began hitting that tall pervert with it like he deserved.

“Ah no! You misunderstand. I only mean to help, nothing indecent! I’ll sleep on the floor. Just so that I’m in the room and it’ll be enough for you to comfortably fall asleep.” 

You paused in your magazine assault and contemplated this offer. You did love having the extra time to browse the internet, but you were always sluggish in the morning and didn’t recover until late afternoon. As much as you tried to hide it, it was really starting to drag you down.

Hesitantly you replied, “Okay… we’ll try it. But no funny business, I’m serious! One weird look and you’re getting kicked out.” You waved the curled magazine around in the air to emphasize your point. 

•

That night, right as the clock struck 9:30, you heard a steady knock, knock, knock on your door. Opening the door, a pajama-clad Geto Suguru leaned into your doorway, pillow and blanket in hand. “Are you ready for our sleepover?” 

You blinked twice and tried to remind (read: convince) yourself that this was a good idea. As long as no one (Gojo) found out. 

“Come in,” you said with an arm extended to the small space. “You can set your stuff up right here. I moved my rug to the corner so that you had some space.” You pointed to the cherry print rug wadded up in a haphazard ball. Rug making had not exactly worked out well for you, so that may as well be its home forever. You sat on the edge of your bed, nails digging into the soft down bedding, as Geto arranged his things on the floor. You were nervous. You’d never had a guy sleep over before, even if this wasn’t like that. 

Geto had placed his striped blanket directly on the floor and his pillow in the opposite direction of where yours laid on your bed. “Are you sure you’re going to be comfortable sleeping on the floor? I feel kind of bad… since you’re the one doing me a favor.” 

“I’ll be fine. As long as this helps you, I’m happy.” There was that smile again. You would never admit it out loud, but his smile felt like warm rays of sunshine and you were thawing from the cold. He truly was a kind soul. What kind of person sacrifices their own comfort just to make sure that their classmate can get a good night’s rest? A generous one. 

Biting down on your bottom lip, maybe it was your nerves talking, but you couldn’t help but offer, “Do you want to sleep on the bed? I feel really bad about you sleeping on the floor. I could make an indestructible pillow wall to separate us.” You fidgeted with a string on your plaid pajama bottoms, unable to look him in the eye while you offered and awaited his answer. 

“Sure, I’ll even help you build the wall. I need to make sure you don’t cut corners and damage the structural integrity of it.” He winked. You felt a quick flutter in your stomach, gone almost as fast as it had come. Together, you worked quickly to arrange the pillows into double layered stacks neatly down the middle of the bed, with the occasional break to hit each other with them. Designating the wall side to Geto, you watched as he climbed over the pillow wall to lay down. You gulped, feeling your pulse quicken. Are we really about to do this? 

Geto extended a long arm and patted your side of the bed. “No sense in wasting more time. If we don’t get to bed now, we’ll continue your bad habit.” 

Wrapping your blanket tightly around your shoulders, you nodded your head and flicked off the corner lamp. Moonlight continued to flood in through the windows on the other side of the room. Your feet made a light pitter patter as you took a few small steps to get to the bed, now with considerably less space due to the large man laying in it. Geto slid his finger through the black elastic holding his hair in a bun and flicked it to the floor. His hair fell down past his shoulders in dark waves like the ocean at midnight. He was beautiful. This wasn’t calming your nerves one bit. Still, gaining your courage, you gently laid next to your artfully built wall of fluff and turned your head up to the man occupying your bed. 

“Thank you for doing this. It was really kind of you.” A pink blush began to fill the apples of your cheeks and you could only hope that it was hidden by the darkness in the room. Geto didn’t say anything, instead opting to pat your head with his large hand, fingers dipping into your hair. Closing your eyes, you felt more comfort than you had ever felt, even at home. You knew, with one half of the strongest duo laying next to you, there wasn’t a safer place in the world than where you were at this moment. 

As sleep began to take its hold, you almost caught a whispered voice replying, “For you? Anything.”

Sometime during the night, the pillow wall had scattered across the bed and a strong, muscled arm made its way around your stomach. The both of you chose not to mention it in the morning. 

•

It had been a month since you started this charade and you had never felt better. Who knew a full night’s sleep (conveniently with your own personal very attractive furnace) could make you feel so great? With a sigh, you turned over to face the formidable pillow wall between you and Geto, only to find him peering over it already awake. You giggled, butterflies fluttering through your stomach. That had been happening more often around Geto recently. His gentle manner and the way he took care of you had caused feelings to blossom deep down in your chest. 

“You know,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve never been a morning person, but then I started waking up to your face and… Maybe mornings aren’t that bad, after all.” 

You never had a problem getting to sleep early again. Geto made sure of that. 

fin.

Inspired by a prompt from @dumplingsjinson on Tumblr! Cross posted to ao3.

I demand more Geto fluff!!!! I can fix him, I swear! I had a blast writing this (even though it was at 1AM…). The writing bug caught me and I couldn’t stop until I was done. 

[smicksstuff]

summary: yngasly has become a fan favourite on the track. As the proud baby sister of Pierre Gasly she never fails to show her unwavering support for him. But, is he the only driver she is rooting for in the paddock ?

The PitBox Crew Series

read Part 1 here

The Enstone Life

f1drivers x yngasly

instagram edit

a/n: im so sorry for the google translate french! i tried my best 😬

-

1 February 2023

yngasly

England

liked by isahernaez, carmenmmundt and 798, 673 others

yngasly just dropped by to say hi to my new bestie Big Ben ! gonna see you around often 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿☕️

view 375 comments

carmenmmundt cant believe you would ditch me for Big Ben ☹️ but im still happy you are here !!! we are gonna have loads of fun together 😍

yngasly OH YES!! finally staying 1 hour away from you !! 🥰

pedrogaseoso OMG she moved to England with her brother!! 🤩

landonorris need a tour guide? you know who to call 👀

yngasly ghostbusters? 👻

landonorris 🙄

norris4life omgg her humour reminds me of danny 😂

yngasly i was kidding 😂 i might actually take you up on it !!

f1fan OMG i love her ! is she gonna be at every race now ?

gaslyyyyy i hope so ! pierre and her are an unbreakable duo

paulgasly Reste en sécurité là-bas ! Tu connais l'affaire and please please listen to pierre 🙏🏽

translated: stay safe down there! you know the deal

yngasly Bien sûr, je le ferai grand frère!

translated: ofcourse i will big brother!

yukitsunoda0511 why didnt anyone tell me that if pierre went to alpine you would go there too ☹️😭

yngasly @yukitsunoda0511 awww yukisan, im still gonna be around !! but im gonna miss you lots 🥺

yukierre poor yuki !! he lost his boyfriend and bestfriend !! double divorce 😭😭

yuki22 OMG i never thought this would happened 😭 no more late night cooking vlogs from these two 😭😭

-

pierregasly

Enstone, England

liked by charles_leclerc, alpinef1team and 1, 673, 378 others

pierregasly when they said you have to move to England, i didnt think that meant “bring your sister along” 😂 lets see what happens 👀

charles_leclerc can’t believe i have to take a plane to see the two of you now 😡

maxverstappen1 you are upset as though you would not see them in the paddock at all

maximilianverstappen MAX DID NOT HOLD BACK 😂

supermax Max out here to remind charles that he is still here

alpinef1team two Gaslys in England we hit the jackpot 😄 Welcome to Enstone Pierre and Yn!

liked by pierregasly and yngasly

paulgasly why do i suddenly feel that maybe this was not a good idea 🤔

yngasly it was the best idea ever!! thank you for convincing Papa and Maman ❤️

lorenzotl pierre and yn in England what could go wrong ?

paulgasly this isnt helping enzo 😑

-

16 February 2023

yngasly

London, England

liked by charles_leclerc, itselenaberri and 568, 801 others

yngasly back in london with Pedro ! My Alpine era has begun 💙

view 792 comments

alpinef1team 💙💙💙

yngaslyfans blue always looks good on you 😍

pierregasly you have got to stop with the Pedro

yngasly no never !!

lissiemackintosh looking stunning as ever 🤩

yngasly thank you queen 👑

charles_leclerc just saying red has always been your colour 💃🏼

liked by yngasly

pierregasly no it has not ! its always been blue

sharll What is going on in the house of commons 👀

leclerc16 not yn liking charles comment 😳

landonorris why choose red or blue when you know you orange is so much better 🧡

liked by yngasly

pierregasly NO Lando!! blue has always been her colour

landonorris has it ? 👀

norris4life not yn liking lando’s comment too

sharll wait im confused i thought charles and her had a thing ?

landino you’re confused ? im flipping confused 😐

-

28 February 2023

yngasly posted on their story

charles_leclerc posted on their story

-

5 March 2023

yngasly

Bahrain

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 792, 628 others

yngasly its lights out and away we go in Bahrain !! New Year, New Team and finally NOT penalty points for Pierre ! 🤩

view 1977 comments

pierregasly it was going great till it wasnt 🤦🏼 i hate you 😠

yngasly you love me and what are little sisters for ❤️

charles_leclerc i was having a pretty shit day but this just made it better ❤️🤩 (you should wear the hat all the time) 😉

yngasly anytime charlie boy 😄 we will see about the hat 🤔

alpinef1team 💙

f1fans Yn is brutal!! I love her 😍

pedrogaseoso Falling for Yn was not on my 2023 Bingo Card!

liked by 983 others

isahernaez so happy to be back in the paddock with you !! ❤️

yngasly its been too long bestie !! missed you too much 🥺

pierregasly its only been 1 month 🤔

yngasly you don’t understand 1 month is too long 😭

yukitsunoda0511 YAY IM STILL HERE

yngasly i follow the rules!! without you photo dumps are incomplete 😃

landonorris THAT JACKET!!! love it ! wear it all the time 🧡

yngasly maybe i should get a hat to match it *hint hint* 🤭

liked by landonorris

sharll she knows what she is doing!! we love a smart girl 😍

landino tbf i dont even think the boys know what is going on

f1fans i have got the popcorn ready !! im so ready for this 🍿

liked by yngasly

f1fans NO WAY she just liked my comment !! bestie please tell us what is happening we are dying in suspense 🧐

pedrogaseoso id pay money rn to see the look on pierre’s face when he finds both lando and charles flirting with his baby sister💰

liked by carlossainz55, isahernaez and 1,572 others

smoothoperatorrr not carlos and isa joining the drama

f1fans buckle up boys and girls! its gonna be one hella amazing season !! 😍

-

credits: all pictures are found from pinterest and instagram

a/n: thank you for reading this far !! i didnt expect the first part of The Pitbox Crew to do so well! If you have any suggestions send them to me!! I would love to hear them ◡̈

[maplewozapi]

Hello! I have been following you for a while and first of all I want to say that your artstyle and character designs are stunning! You have a great sense of creativity and an eye for detail like I am always happy to see a new character of yours or their redesigns when they appear on my timeline (let's say that they make me really THINK about my own character designs and inspire me to always try and redesign them with more thought than before :D). I hope one day I will gather myself up and be able to commission you because I really wish to 😭

But my main question which had been in my mind for a while: You made a little post about explaining what Wojapi is a while back and I realized that it looks really similar to a food that my country (funny enough It's Czechia where we use the ž and š which you know but still I find it as a funny coincidence) has and specifically my smaller region where I live and we call it Žahour -> which is a not too sweet, not too sour, hot sauce made out of forest blueberries that is usually served either with pancakes or a HUGE puffy dumpling with no filling and usually no strong taste! I can tell you It's really good but I think you can imagine pretty well how it could taste like :D

I don't think they are in any way connected they just became their own things sepparated from eachother in each culture but still I think It's really nice and I wanted to thank you for kinda reminding me that Žahour exists since I haven't had it in a long time and I honestly miss it. That is all from me and I hope you have a nice day! ☀️

They you so much 🥺 that’s so touching, I love character design so much I’m so happy you enjoy it. idk if I talked about the orthography I used but it is Czech actually and I believe has the same rules. It’s a big controversy because it was made and owned but a “European, White, Czech, guy who has since copyrighted his orthography of the Lakota language. There’s many orthographies for Lakota it was never a written language I personally use the Czech one because of my dyslexia and it has indicators where the sounds are supposed to go, and I know people who worked on it. So the older orthography and more popular was “wojapi” and I used the Czech “wožapi” spelling not to come up in google searches for the food Wojapi lol. Boiling berries is definitely a universal dish, but I think žahour might be the closest to wojapi in texture and taste some of the pancakes even look like fry bread

[sadclowncentral]

about the sea: have you sailed along the southwestern edge of the baltic sea? if yes, could you describe the land and the shore and the water there? i’m doing a little infographic on the fall migration of european starlings from Latvia to the UK (via Denmark) and i’ve never been along that coast! google maps is ok, but cannot compare to someone’s lived experience. especially with the narrative similarities between sailing and flying

this is and remains my favourite ask I have ever gotten, and it took me some time to get it right. The Baltic southwest is in my unbiased opinion the most beautiful place in the world, all year round, and I could never do it justice in all of it’s facets and different faces it wears through the year. So here are some snapshots of the southwest islands through the year, both of the sea and the shore:

Langeland, Denmark in late spring

The southern tip of the island is so flat that it nearly vanished into the sea until you are right in front of it. The belts and straits of what is lovingly called the Danish south sea are a bright blue in the first sunny days of the year. Sometimes, close to shore, yellow-green pollen bloom even creates swirling patterns in the water. There is animals everywhere; birds settled in the quieter water of the bay, mostly seagulls and loons, but swans as well; if you are very lucky, a harbour porpoise will choose the wake of your ship to swim along with, and further east, you might even meet a seal or two. The coast is green fields and white turbines turning so fast that they are blurring before you. Between it all, a constant trail of huge container ships passes the straits, turning the sky close to the water grey with their exhausts. It all seems so warm, until a single cloud passing in front of the sun reminds you of the coldness of the air.

Fehmarn, Germany in early summer

The canola fields are still in full bloom, turning the whole island a bright, joyous yellow, interspersed with specks of red and blue from the field flowers, swishing in the wind. Bright yellow and bright green against the blue backdrop of the Baltic sea. The island and the land here are flat as a pancake, making it easy to see from shore to shore; only on its edges, like a crumpled paper, does the island lift up into sandy cliffsides that drop of dramatically into pebbled beaches. Standing on the beach, the water is a azure blue, and in the sun, the numerous sandbanks are clearly visible in the light turquoise. While the wind is ever present, it is subdued in early summer, but the jagged cliffs are a stark reminder of the violence of the winter storms. All trees lean towards the shore, gnarled branches disfigured by the wind; there is a reason we call it “the land that even trees bow for”.

Ven Island, Sweden in the middle of the summer

Coming from the open water up north, the island appears like a golden hill rising out of the sea. The grainfields in full bloom, the warm sandy beaches, and the sun behind it. Behind you, the Øresund gave you the perfect reprieve, watching cities and mixed tree forest pass by in turn on either side after the rough waters of the Kattegatt, where both North and Baltic sea crash together in a cacophony of wave pattern, shaking you and your boat around frantically over strong winds. Now, on Ven, it seems almost a lifetime ago, as you follow the soft roads winding up the island and watch as grain and water are dispersed by the wind in mirrored patterns, golden and green-blue.

Christiansø, Denmark in later summer

Arriving in Christiansø is always a wild ride. While the sun beats down in unrelenting brightness, the waves and wind that had time to build over the whole Baltic sea are so strong that salt crystals form on your face from the constant sea spray that hits you in the face. The island seems almost unreal – just jagged brown-grey teeth of rock rising out of the middle of the sea with no land visible in either direction for miles, with deepest blue water surrounding it, no ground in sight. The waves crash on the stubborn rocks with a loud crashing sound, and over all of that, the stubborn calls of birds that circle around the islands undeterred. On the island, the specks of green, of still water ponds and green grass (I don’t remember a single tree), seem almost comical against the rusted brown rocks. You stare out into the dark marine blue and watch the sunset through the roaring and screeching.

Rügen, Germany in early autumn

Auttumn has arrived, and with it, heavy clouds and heavier winds. The Baltic sea, as beautiful as it is in summer, as strong are the east wind storms that start belting down on the southwest from September onwards. Without the sunlight, the water has turned a deep angry green, but mostly white, as sea foam flies over gnashing waves. Sometimes, as the water rises past your ship, you can see the last moon jellyfish of the season in long tangled webs of kelp pass you by. The rain is soft and dispersed, but colder than the water and makes visibility low. But then, the northeast of the island comes into view, as darkness has already set in, and as the wind dies down and the clouds disperse the island shines in a blinding white, the chalk cliffs of the island rising above the water. The breaking off chalk turns the water here a pastel turquoise in the sun as it dispersed, but here now, it’s dark grey, just as the sky.

[halliescomut]

Love Sea Ep 2 Thoughts

Okay. I've had some time to consider the episode, organize my thoughts (potentially) but I think this still might be a bit of a ramble....sorry.

So we do start off right where we left off where they're coming back on the boat, and they're talking on the beach. I mentioned in my watch along a lot of these thoughts, so I'm kind of just expanding on them, so it might be helpful to read that first. But I've taken an interest in a lot of the body language happening in the show, and looking at the scene it gives me this feeling of Mut sort of invading Rak's space, but just enough.

Like their legs are entwined, but there's decent distance from their upper bodies, which given Rak's hesitation to get too close, or be too charmed by Mut really works for me. Given the scene prior, and Rak's sort of level of upset, it feels pretty clear that Mut is working to kind of distract Rak. And Rak basically jumps on that opportunity. It actually kind of reminds me of Sky in that way, like we don't have a confirmation of Sky's general MO in regard to sex, but the ONS read a little bit to me as an intentional decision to distract himself. I get that same feeling here, Rak doesn't want to think about why he reacted as he did, or consider how vulnerable he made himself, and so he kind of thinks by jumping into a sexual experience that will distract both him and Mut.

I have (as is kind of always the case with Mame) reservations on the kind of D/s undertones she uses. I got to be honest, part of the issue is the weird commitment to putting Peat's character in the more submissive position (she did it with Sky too) I honestly don't find that it suits him or his characters well, and is based solely on his body type versus his personality. Setting that aside for now, I will say that I appreciate direct expression of oral sex. In LITA specifically (I know I'm calling back to that a lot, but it's hard not to use it as a comparison, specifically for the NC scenes) we saw two separate allusions to oral sex, or honestly we were robbed of two NC scenes involving oral. The ONS, where Pai doesn't let Sky give him a BJ, and then the bathroom scene that ended up getting cut where we see Prapai giving. I made this observation (among friends, not publically...I don't think) that I think the intentional exclusion of that specific sex act in Thai BL leads me to believe there's a particular reason why it's not included. In terms of MM sex we see your standard penetrative sex pretty regularly, and then small sprinkles of handjobs in general, but oral is almost never even alluded to, much less shown. Now I'm honestly not super caught up on a lot of Thai BL, but I would say I've seen more direct expressions of oral in the last year, than I had seen in two years prior since I got into Thai BL. So overall I think it's a step in the right direction in encouraging a more well-rounded and accurate depiction of the gay experience.

In terms of the actual physical acting of the scene...I'm gonna say C+. It's less about their facial expressions and more about positioning and timing...in a way. I will salute the decision for oral sex if you're doing it on a beach, because that is going to be your least chafe-y option.

Following this we get a return of the humor with Rak saying they need to go back to the hotel room immediately...Clearly leading Mut to believe that the sexy times will continue, but they do not. Rak starts writing, we don't get insight into the specific scene, but I do wonder if the written scenes mirror the IRL experiences or not. Like how similar are they? During that time we see Mut basically pouting and then googling Rak. This gives us our first suggestion in the show I think that Rak is basically a self-insert for Mame. And we see the covers for The Boy Next World as well as Love Director, two novels that 'Rak' has written and are being made into series. He follows that up by checking what looks to be basically Rak's Instagram, containing many pictures of Rak looking incredibly attractive and then basically excuses himself to take a shower.

Rak finishes his scene, and I'm not really sure if he's kind of run out of mojo, or if he's just done with that scene in general, but he goes looking for Mut and he sure does find him. Now I did miss the arm movement initially and thought we were just appreciating the rear view so to speak, but then you realize that Mut is in fact jacking off.

Overall, it seems a case of "Well, we've already crossed the line" and we have the most minimal discussion of terms. I'm not a person who cares at all about the sexual decisions that adults make, but as someone who is close friends with people who have and continue to work in the sex industry, it is of course not a necessarily safe way to go about those types of negotiations. This is not a dealbreaker for me by any means in regards to watching the show, I genuinely don't expect anything overly realistic, it's just an observation.

Moving on to the main event as it were, the sort of antagonistic flirting is on point, which with Fort and Peat is not surprising. They mentioned that Mame gave them an opportunity to do what felt natural for their characters and I do feel that in the conversation and acting in the shower. Once we move back to the bedroom things move very quickly, and while I think the scene is very good, it doesn't feel passionate in the same way the earlier scene does, or previous NC scenes we've seen from FortPeat as PrapaiSky (except for one in particular and I'll get back to that). I'm not personally sure if this was an acting choice, if it was just how the scene ended up, if it was directing, I truly don't know. I think though it really fits the situation in a particular way. The almost emotionless sex feels appropriate because they don't truly have feelings for each other yet, not really. Flirting and attraction aside, there's not a true emotional connection, especially on Rak's part. And I'm sorry, but it reminds me of the ONS in LITA. It's the only sex scene we see of Prapai and Sky where there are positions where they aren't facing each other, which creates an emotional distance. It's why we see missionary position so often in BLs even when that may not be the go-to position for MM sex. Having characters face each other creates an emotional connection.

The choice makes sense if you consider that both Rak and Sky are going into this sexual encounter with the intention of maintaining emotional distance. And even Mut and Prapai at this point, while intrigued by this very attractive person, aren't coming into it from an overly emotional place. So, overall I do think in this scene it's a vibe that really works for me, and I'm interested to see how these scenes change as the characters open up more to each other.

Once Rak is done, he's very definitively done and sends Mut away, but does admit to himself that this Mut is one of the best he's ever had.

We then cut to the next day and get more of what I personally call Mut's village rounds, just him going around and talking to different people from the community, and we see more interactions with Palm, the bartender from episode one. They're interactions are really cute, I actually really enjoy him. He has good doofus energy. Anyway, after that Mut heads to the hotel because Palm told him that all the single staff there were trying to 1- figure out Rak's sexuality and 2- potentially woo him because he's rich. So Mut is there sitting with a group of ladies, to Rak's eyes he's flirting, but we don't hear much if any of the conversation, so it's unclear if there's actual flirting or if it's just Mut's general charisma. I also don't think we've gotten any specific clarity on Mut or Rak's sexuality in terms of whether they are gay, bi, or pan. I personally suspect that Rak does not feel attracted to women, but that's my own read on it. Mut is harder to nail down, but we haven't seen nearly as much of him in a flirting-approriate situation. But back to the point. Rak sees Mut with the women, he hears hotel staff talking about how he's a catch or something (I skimmed over that on the second watch, sorry) and he's jealous.

We see a peek at Rak's impulsiveness here (like the beach and the shower, and even the robe scene of last episode) and he sends Mut 65,000 Baht which is $1,771 in USD, so not small change, and basically comes up and stakes his claim on him. We get more of Peat's English here, and I'm guessing we might get more of it when he returns to Bangkok, or maybe just more if we see more conversations with Connor. I have feelings about the whole "I paid for you, I don't share", as discussed above, but I do think it gives insight to Rak, and the kind of slippery slope he's found himself on here.

Mut leaves with him after agreeing to feed him and we do get an adorable montage of them on the motorbike. While the tone of the episode shifts throughout, I don't feel like it's quite as abrupt as the previous episode, and I think the motorbike scene really sets up the future of Rak kind of finding some peace not only in Mut, but also in this rural community. Once they arrive at the area where the restaurant is we get the joke that the motorbike ride set up, which is that it may not be the best mode of transportation if you spent the previous night engaging in pretty vigorous anal activity. Fair enough, and the teasing there from Mut using his Southern dialect is downright adorable, but what's most interesting is we get confirmation that both Mut and Rak are out in their communities.

While this is not necessarily surprising with Mame, outside of her university set stories most of her characters are reconciled of their sexuality from the start. They may not necessarily be publicly out, but they're aware of and enerally accepting of their sexuality and even confident in it. I actually think Mame's spectrum of where people are at in their coming out journey is one of the better aspects of her shows, as it gives people at all different parts of that journey characters they can relate to.

We re-encounter Palm here, he's kind of similar to Mut, or at least Mut a few years ago, a less than flush native of the island who works whatever odd jobs he can find. Rak finds him a bit annoying which is fair, but I did enjoy the small bit of teasing between Palm and Mut. I think they have a pretty cute bro relationship. Once they go to sit down Rak (and we the viewer) get to meet another community member who heaps quite a bit of praise on Mut for his work and contribution to their community. Mut's shy reaction is very sweet and the scene overall offers a glimpse to Rak of the person Mut truly is, beyond the shameless flirt.

We also get backstory for Mut, learning that he had a falling out with his father at 15, leading to him leaving that home. It's not clear if his sexuality may have been a factor, but homophobic parents have been present in Mame's work before and are something that very sadly continues to be consistent in many queer kids lives IRL, so I don't think it's farfetched. This particular scene is one of the most well-acted I think we've gotten from Fort in it's minimalism. I think Fort feels comfortable with the flirty-charmer character type, and the way he holds himself, how he schools his face, his tone, as he talks about the fallout with his father is so well done. His eyes too, Fort does a lot of really excellent acting with his eyes. What particularly felt accurate to me was the sort of emotionlessness that we see. Experiences like he had, particularly with a parent are really hard to reconcile. As humans we want to have a loving relationship with our parents, more specifically we want to be certain they love us. When it becomes clear they don't, it's a very difficult thing to accept, in particular because it's necessary to simultaneously recognize that you are not at fault in the situation. That's kind of why most people require actual therapy to work through experiences like this. But when that's not an option, the way you deal with it is usually dissociation. You can't dwell on it, let it get to close, because then it will cause a problem, so you keep it at arm's length. That's what we see here with Mut, and what Fort portrays so well. We also get one of the most heartbreaking lines in Mut saying "My dad never takes back what he says. I suppose that's the only thing we have in common." Mut is proud of being a person who keeps their word, we see him mention it before, and we now see that it's a trait with a direct connection to his father. Seemingly the only potentially positive connection he can create there.

For Rak's part, we see those little cracks forming in those walls, he recognizes Mut's vulnerability, he's practically appalled at the idea of Mut's father kicking him out, which based on what we can presume is a very close relationship with his mother, sister, and niece, is understandable. He doesn't understand that betrayal from family really. But he's starting to see Mut as a more well rounded human being, versus the way he'd initially saw him which is solely a potential sex partner/distraction. We then start to get our first bit of insight into Rak when Mut asks him why he became a writer. In the voiceover we hear that he started writing to escape, but his spoken response is that it started as him just wanting to share stories he loved with people. Given that his chosen genre is romance, he wanted to escape to these happily ever after love stories, and share them with people who also want that, because to him happily ever after is only a fantasy, it's not attainable in the real world. Peat's body language is wonderful here, the crossed arms, and looking off kind of the side instead of meeting Mut's gaze directly show that he's being deliberate in how much he's sharing, but in the end I think he still reveals more than he intended with his answers. Mut questions if he's happy, and Rak says that if he weren't he wouldn't be Tongrak, the writer, to which Mut replies "That's all there is to life. And you've been doing a good job". Now I kind of feel like there's nuance missing in the translation, but I'm not the person to address that. But the sentiment seems to be 'happiness is what's important, and by valuing that you're doing a good job' and Rak is very touched by that. He says he doesn't recieve compliments very often, and while I don't know if that's fully accurate given his success and handsomeness, there's a great deal of difference in someone complimenting your work or your looks and someone recognizing that that you're doing a good job as a person, especially a person with a traumatic past. Being a survivor of any kind of trauma creates a lot of pitfalls that are difficult to overcome and create even a semblance of a normal life, and so having that effort recognized, even if not directly is really affirming. We see Rak very intentionally return this compliment to Mut, which communicates a level of recognition.

This conversation also kind of confirms for me that Rak is a bit of a self-insert character for Mame, especially considering that he brings up criticism that his stories get. I've never directly seen or encountered it, but I have heard rumors of Mame getting upset and even responding to negative critiques of her work. Her use of more problematic tropes is a valid criticism, and while I can see some progress from one series to the next, I do also feel like she falls back on what's "easy" instead of really trying to push her stories into more positive directions. While her sexuality is her business, she is a woman writing about gay male relationships, and honestly sometimes it's unrealistic to the point of being distracting. As I've said before, I don't truly expect realism from Mame, but her stories are meant to be in the genre of realistic fiction, they're not fantasy or sci-fi (leaving TBNW out of it for now). It's also very important to recognize that many gay men who watch BL do find some of the tropes she often uses to be damaging, both because they portray gay men in not the best light, but also because they set up potentially problematic expectations in young queer or questioning men who might partake in her stories.

We then cut to night again, joining Mut at home and he's trying to weasel information out of Kom, who does ask Connor, but Connor refuses to give any, only telling him to ask Rak himself, which I appreciate. We can suspect that Connor is kinda trying to matchmake here, but I appreciate him being a good friend to Rak and not revealing his secrets. In the end he calls Rak and invites him diving and we get to the last portion of this episode. Let us pray I can fit my thoughts in a single post.

Now aside from how honestly weird it is that Rak showed up for diving in a small fortunes worth of luxury jewlery (why?), when he sees Palm there as well he gets a little upset, seemingly because he thought there was potential for another hookup. Which I guess is fine, but why would you think diving is the code word for that, when it's literally part of how Mut makes is living? But moving on, they get out into the water, Mut get's Rak all set in his gear and as he's going to get Palm to help him get his gear on Rak goes ahead and dives (that impulsiveness again!). Setting aside my frustration with Rak's fully dangerous decision here, we do get a really lovely little scene of the underwater flora and fauna. Things take a downturn when Rak has a series of flashbacks. It's not really clear what triggers them here, but we see three scenes back to back. First his parents arguing, when he's quite young...8-9 (?), then him comforting his sister, both of them late teens it looks like (they look to be in school uniforms, but could potentially be college), after her boyfriend leaves her after finding out she's pregnant, and then with his mother again, the final sentence is a bit garbled, and not translated in the captions, but logically I think it's something along the lines of "Don't trust in love, if you don't want to end up like me."

As a child, watching two women he cares for deeply suffering because men that they trusted to love and care for them simply didn't would certainly put a bad taste in anyone's mouth about love. So we've kind of identified the catalyst for why Rak doesn't believe in love, even having witnessed it with Kom and Connor. Though I understand in the book there's perhaps some insight into negative feelings related to that relationship, and Kom "taking Connor away". I haven't read either Love Sea or Love Sand, so this is based off of conversations with people who have, so I could be wrong, but I don't think it's a stretch to think of Rak grappling with negative thoughts related to Kom and Connor, even if he's recognizing that those thoughts are a bit ridiculous. It's normal to mourn the loss of what was easy and comfortable when friends find romantic partners and you have to figure out what the new normal is, you just have to make sure you keep resentment and negative feelings under control and don't let them fester.

I will point out though, is that one cinematic choice that's made here is having the sort of washed out blue tones of the flashbacks match the underwater coloring. It keeps the scenes from being too jolting as they cut back and forth, an dI think it was an excellent idea.

Due to the flashback Rak kind of panics, looses his regulator and Mut basically finds him just in time. Giving him some mouth to mouth oxygen before getting him reset so they can go back to the surface.

This type of scene would have been very difficult to film, even if it wa managed in a single take, which is kind of unlikely, and so massive props to Fort and Peat for doing some amazing work here.

Returning to the boat we see Mut become very serious about how dangerous Rak's actions were, but that seriousness is balanced with a lot of empathy as well. I can't fully express my thoughts on the metaphor I feel like is intended in the "they need buddies" conversation, but there's something happening there. Mut does try to talk about why Rak panicked, but Rak shuts him down and we get a convo about the wordplay that is their names instead. Mut here is trying to lighten the situation a bit, and I think Rak kind of recognizes that, but is too stuck in his darker memories to really let it happen and he says something I don't know that he means to. That "Love is a figment of our imaginations". And he believes that, and you can see that Mut know he believes it, and his reaction is the most "Oh sweetie" look I've ever seen. (Seriously, Fort's expressions are always so fantastic). The moment is broken when Rak pulls a Kim Theerapanyakul and says "I'm hungry" and walks away.

We do get s teensy post credits scene which returns us to the restaurant where Rak sadly finds out that at many fresh seafood restaurants those tanks aren't just for ambiance (Bless you red fish for nourishing us) and we get some more good natured flirting from Mut "Will you eat me if I'm tasty"...boy if you don't.

Now we saw this same kind of thing last ep, where we ended on a pretty serious tone, go the end title screen and then a more humorous scene after. I think it's kind of intended to leave us as an audience on a more positive note instead of just wandering through the rest of our day traumatized and sobbing.

As we see the actual credits roll we get confirmation of my suspicion that the scene might change and progress as the episodes go on and indeed this episode we see Mut join Rak at the beach at a companionable distance. A bit curious to see if we might also have a change up when they go to the city.

Overall this was an excellent episode, clearly much to unpack (as you can see by this 4000 word post. It's well paced, the acting is very good, we're kept engaged as an audience. I didn't talk much about P'Vie and Mook, but I'll make a much shorter separate post for that.

[harrystylescherry]

Part Four: Terms and Conditions

A/N: FINALLLYYYYY

what it is: a summer romance in the south of france that breeds nothing but hurt

word count: 4.6k

pls pls pls reblog if you liked it!

i’d love to hear your feedback :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

here we go:

June 9

Harry hadn’t seen Della in more than a few days. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. If she was as unknowable as she said she was, it was because she was unreachable. On more than one occasion, during the first three days of not seeing her, he had called her—though he only let it ring a few times before hanging up. Even after they had laid the ground rules—or conditions, as she called them—and made it clear that she was attracted to him and wanted him in a very particular way, he was still feeling insecure. 

“Anything I’d like?” Della asked. Harry nodded. “I don’t know if you could handle what I like.”

Harry felt something stir in the pit of his stomach. He cleared his throat and willed himself to not think of all the things that could mean. It wasn’t exactly the right moment for a hard on. “I could.”

Della came forward and leaned her forearms on the table. “Let’s say you could,” she challenged. “But are you willing to follow the conditions?”

He had never been very good with rules. It was why most of his relationships ended. But this wasn’t a relationship, he reminded himself. There was less at stake. It would be easier. He leaned forward and mimicked her position. “More than.”

It was when she sat back with a smirk that Harry thought he might be a little in over his head. 

The conditions (rules) were as follows:

No sleepovers (which he should’ve seen coming)

No telling anyone they’re involved (he may have already broken that one, but he wasn’t going to tell her that) (he also was trying very hard not to be offended that she hadn’t bragged about meeting him to anyone)

No meeting up before three o’clock in the afternoon (this made no sense to harry, but Della swore no one met up with their fuck buddies before happy hour—from his experience, that wasn’t exactly true but she spoke with too much authority for him to question it)

No dates (if they went out to dinner or grabbed drinks, they would split the bill fifty-fifty–Harry only agreed to this to avoid an argument but there was no way in hell he’d let her pay for anything)

No catching feelings. The second someone came close, they had to be over (Harry’s cheeks flamed on this one, and he really pretended not to know why)

After they finished their drinks, Harry walked her to her door and they parted ways without a kiss. He would’ve, but Della refused to kiss him after having kissed someone else. Harry was grateful that she at least respected him that much, but part of him wanted her so badly that it wouldn’t have minded. So it was probably best that she didn’t. 

He had just come back from a run when his phone buzzed with a text from the enigma herself. It was a link to a jazz bar with the question: Tonight?

Harry Googled the place and saw it was a fifteen minute drive from him and a twenty minute walk from her flat. 

He texted back. I’ll pick you up at 9?

I’ll walk

No you won’t. I’ll pick you up at 9. 

Fine, bossy

You know you like it

Maybe only a little. For now, at least. Try me again in a few hours

Harry rubbed his palm over his smile, trying to wipe it away. See you later, Del

He had sent the message before he could think through the nickname. For a second, he stared at the message with a stomach full of nerves–but they vanished when the little thumbs up appeared above the bubble. 

“You can’t do that,” Della’s voice was stern as she spoke into her phone. She was half-ready for the beach, in her blue bikini with her cover dress gripped in her fist. 

“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Josh said, annoyed on the other end of the line. “You told me to find somewhere else to live, and I did.”

“You weren’t supposed to find somewhere in the same fucking building.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this to me.”

“What I’m doing to you? That’s real fucking rich, Della. You broke off our engagement. You made me think you loved me and then moved to another fucking country!”

“I’m sorry–I don’t know how many times I have to say that, and I don’t–I’m not arguing about that anymore. I didn’t end things the way I should’ve. I–”

“I fucking followed you across the ocean.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that! Actually, I remember very specifically telling you that I had to go and do this for me.”

“There was nothing specific about the way you ended things and you know it.”

“Josh, you can’t live there.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore.”

Della scoffed. “As if I ever told you what to do.”

“You’re right, and you don’t get to start now. I don’t even know who you are anymore. You’ve changed, and not for the better. Honestly, you breaking things off was probably one of the best things you’ve ever done for me.”

She could feel the rage seep into her bones. It was a new sensation–one that she had felt for the first time when Josh had shown up to her flat in London with a suitcase and a two-year visa stamped in his passport. It had become a familiar feeling since then, one that she didn’t know how she’d ever really lived without before. Every time she felt it, she realized that this is what it was like to have convictions, to have boundaries, and to have them crossed and violated. This is what it felt like to want to fight back instead of being disappointed for a few days before letting it all go. 

“Go home, Josh. Go back to Vermont. Go away.”

“I have a job here, now.”

“So find a new one.”

“I paid for a visa.”

“I don’t care. Just get the fuck out of my life.”

“Della–”

She hung up and took a shaky breath. She looked at the hardwood floor and considered lying down. It’s what she usually did when the feelings were too much, when it felt as though they would consume her. She’d lay on the floor and wait for the sadness or grief or disappointment or melancholy to seep from her. Anger didn’t work like that, though. It simmered, wanting to boil over and explode. Her body buzzed with the energy. She wanted to throw something, punch something. Suddenly, she felt she could relate to teenage boys–and she grimaced with the thought. 

She grabbed her journal and shoved it in her bag. All she knew how to do was write. It’s all she could do. She’d bake in the sun and swim laps in the sea and carve her anger into the page. 

Harry’s thumb tapped anxiously on the steering wheel the entire drive to Della’s. They hadn’t spoken since they made their plans that morning and his on my way text had gone unanswered. 

The day had dragged as he counted down the hours until now. And he hated that. He hated how invested he already was, how badly he wanted to see her, to feel her body beneath his hands. 

He was chalking it all up to sheer lust. Della was beautiful–striking. And she was a riddle. He had already been exposed to so many different sides of her–versions of her–that he didn’t know which ones were real and which were an act. He also couldn’t decide which version was his favorite; Shy Della, who fumbled with her keys and blushed every time he looked at her, or Self-Assured Della, who sat down with him after kissing someone else, not a hint of embarrassment anywhere on her, and told him that she’d like to forge an arrangement. 

He was prepared to walk up to the door and buzz her flat (3E, he remembered) and was slightly disappointed that he wouldn’t get the chance. She stood in front of the Hermes storefront with her head buried in her phone. A breath caught in his chest at the sight of her in her periwinkle silk dress. The neckline dipped between her breasts in a way that made his mouth water, and the fall of the fabric made it seem as though it was cut precisely for her. He could see every line of her body–the curve of her waist, roundness of her hips, a tiny indent where her belly button was, the outline of her nipples. He had to collect himself before stepping out of the car. 

Her hair was thrown up in a casual ponytail, with wisps of red baby hairs floating around the base of her neck, over her ears and along her forehead. In her flat, gold sandals, she was so effortlessly beautiful, so chic, Harry suddenly felt a little unworthy and very insecure. 

“Hi, love,” he said once he stood in front of her. 

She jolted in surprise before looking up from her phone. “God, sorry, I didn’t even hear you pull up.” 

She had more freckles than the last time he saw her, and the tops of her shoulders were colored pink. His girl had gotten some sun. 

He physically cringed at himself. She wasn’t his anything. He’d do well to remember that. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said. 

Her eyes looked him over appraisingly. “So are you.” She tucked her phone into her bag. “Ready?”

Harry nodded and led her to the car with a hand on her lower back. He made sure to open the door before she could get to it and only closed it once she was tucked in and buckled up. 

He wanted to punch himself–or throw himself into oncoming traffic. Really, he was willing to do whatever he needed to stop being so nervous, so unlike himself. He was so aware of her, of her eyes on him, of every small movement she made in the passenger seat as he settled in and pulled away from the curb. 

“You’re quiet,” he commented when he realized they had made half the drive in silence. 

She tossed him a smirk. “So are you.” 

“Sorry, I’m just a little–” He stopped himself before he could say something that would scare her away. Because he knew it would. If he admitted to her he was nervous, then she’d remind him that this wasn’t a date, and so there would be nothing to be nervous about, and then she’d see that it didn’t matter and she’d call this off before it could even start. He’d come to know her enough to know exactly how that would go (and he only knew her so well thanks to the hours he’d spent picking apart every interaction they had). “Is everything okay?”

She sighed. “Yeah, just having to deal with something from home. A very annoying something,” she muttered. 

“Is it your ex?” 

Della’s head spun to look at him. “How’d you know?”

He shrugged. “Lucky guess. So what’s the deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“What happened that sent you running all the way to France for the summer?”

“I did not run to France to get away from him. That’s what London was supposed to be for, actually. It didn’t exactly work the way I hoped.”

With a quick look at her, he caught the grimace on her face. “And how did you hope that would go?”

“He was supposed to forget about me.”

Harry scoffed. 

“What?”

“There’s nothing remotely forgettable about you.”

At a stoplight, he looked over at her and smirked at the look of shock on her face. She recovered quickly. 

“I need to be drunk  to have this conversation with you.”

“That can be arranged.”

The jazz bar was underground, the entrance a few steps below street level. The stained glass door was held open by the man working the door, and the couple slipped inside. 

It was hazy, though Della wasn’t sure why, considering smoking wasn’t allowed indoors–proven by the crowd of people inhaling and chatting on the street outside. The small tables were crowded together, forcing Della to lift herself onto her tiptoes as to not knock over the glass of the table nextdoor as she moved to her seat. 

A hand wrapped around her hip. “ça va?”

Della looked to the man the broad hand was attached to. He was hot, the French kind of hot, and if she wasn’t here with Harry, she’d probably end up sitting in the chair between him and his friend. But she was with Harry, so she sent him a polite smile and said, “Bien, merci.”

She slid into her seat and out of his grasp. When she looked up at Harry, his jaw was tight. He hadn’t liked that. His reaction made her giddier than it should’ve. 

“Humid in here, no?” She leaned over the small table to ask, moving the tealight towards the center of the table. 

Harry looked around. “Yeah.” His jaw was still ticking. 

Honestly, she was surprised at his jealousy. She didn’t think he had it in him; he just seemed too sweet, too go-with-the-flow, and hands-off to care enough to get jealous. Clearly, she underestimated him. 

Josh never really got jealous, and Della was always just toxic enough that it sort-of bothered her. There were a few months her sophomore year where she had found herself going out of her way to spark it. It never worked. She understood being secure in a relationship, being comfortable and sure about where you stood with someone, but it wasn’t about that. It was about feeling wanted, desired. It was about knowing that someone wanted you so much that they got just a little unhinged about it. A little possessive, like they wanted every piece of you for themself. 

But Della was who she was, and so she had simply let it go and accepted that it just wasn’t part of who Josh was. 

Harry’s eyes were locked on the stage, his jaw still tight. Clearly, he wanted to say something, whether to Della or the Frenchman she wasn’t sure, but he felt he couldn’t. Probably like it wasn’t his place. And it wasn’t, really. They weren’t together. This wasn’t a date. They were just two people…hanging out. 

“Should we get a bottle of wine?” She asked, while lifting the worn black book off the edge of the table and flipping through it. 

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

She let the smooth notes of the piano fill the space between them. When he still didn’t look at her, and the furrow in his brow didn’t lessen, she reached under the table and dropped her hand on his linen clad thigh. 

His eyes snapped to her’s.

“Should we get a red?” She asked casually, as she squeezed the taut muscle beneath her palm. Why she was trying to reassure him, she didn’t know–couldn’t even begin to think about why she cared. Not when she was meant to be doing the exact opposite. 

He dropped his hand onto her’s and smiled. “Yeah, we could do that.”

“Cool.” She pulled her hand away and held the book out to him. “You pick.” When he went to grab it, she pulled it just out of his reach and narrowed her eyes. “But nothing crazy. Fifty-fifty, remember?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Drunk enough to have that conversation?” Harry asked as Della drank the last of what was in her glass. 

“What conversation?” 

“The ex-boyfriend one.”

She scrunched her nose and Harry melted at the cuteness of it. Della eyed the bottle in front of her. There was probably a glass and a half left, but Harry didn’t plan on drinking anymore (he had precious cargo to drive home) so he poured the rest into her glass. 

“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing.”

“What’s that?” 

“You think if you liquor me up, I’ll tell you all my secrets.”

“You’re drinking wine, not liquor.” She rolled her eyes. “And no, not your secrets.” He shrugged in earnest. “Just trying to get to know you.”

“I already told you–”

“Yeah, you’re unknowable. So you said.”

“Exactly.”

“But I don’t believe that.”

“Not believing something doesn’t make it any less true,” she said before taking a sip. 

“The same way that believing something doesn’t make it true.”She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t want to share, I can accept that. As someone who has had to fight for every ounce of privacy they got–and even still sometimes lost–I understand. But c’mon, Del, it’s not that you’re inherently unknowable, it’s that you want to be.”

He couldn’t tell if he’d gone too far. Her expression was unreadable. Panic tightened his chest and he took a long drink of water. 

Her pretty mouth twisted in…he couldn’t tell if it was annoyance or amusement or sheer, unfortunate acceptance that he’d just dragged them into the kind of emotional place she clearly never wanted to go. 

“I don’t know who I am. That’s why I’m here,” she said. “I’m unknowable to me.” Harry leaned forward, hanging on to every word she spoke. “London was supposed to help me. It was going to be mine, only mine. I was going to have to make decisions. Real ones. There’d be no one to catch me, or lead me, or influence me. Following the wind wouldn’t be an option because I’d have to survive–I’d have to thrive in order to survive. And then that was taken away from me, and everything was all washed up and confusing all over again. Not easy–no, not easy at all. It could’ve been, if I let it, but by then I’d learned how to have some resolve. I had conviction of my own. And I couldn’t give it up.” She finally looked up at him, though her fingers were still toying with the stem of her glass. “So I came here. To hold onto it. I can’t lose it, Harry, not when I just found it. Not when I need it.”

He understood what she was saying. He heard her. She wasn’t in a place to let anyone in right now, not when what she had found for herself was still so fragile. Della seemed to know herself better than she thought. She knew enough to know what she needed. If she thought herself as easily influenced, well, Harry could argue with that, but he didn’t know her before she came here. He didn’t know the version of her that she was so clearly trying to shake, and he wouldn’t challenge that. He wouldn’t make this any harder for her than it already seemed to be. But he wasn’t going to give her up either, so he’d be whatever she needed–whatever she wanted. 

“Okay,” he said, allowing an easy smile to take over his face. 

“Okay?” He didn’t like the insecurity in her voice. 

He nodded once, sure. “Okay.”

She could keep her secrets and her heart as long as she gave him everything else. 

Della was tipsy. Definitely, so. 

Which was fine. She was having fun, and the music moved from smooth to boisterous without a single warning. Something her and jazz had in common. 

On her way back from the restroom, where she waited in line for ten minutes to take the longest pee of her life, the Frenchman caught her hand. He’d caught her eye with his a few times throughout the last hour or so, but Della had done well with ignoring him. The glances weren’t creepy. More interested, questioning. 

And she knew exactly what he was questioning. She was in France, for god’s sake. She raised a single eyebrow. 

“Est-ce que je peux t'offrir un verre?”

He wanted to buy her a drink? She shouldn’t have been surprised by his boldness, but still, she was clearly there with someone else. 

She looked at him, and then back at Harry, whose jaw was tight, eyes set in a glare. 

Her hand slipped from his grasp as she leaned against Harry’s side, her hips level with his chest. She dropped a casual hand into his hair and toyed with the waves. His hand slid up the backs of her legs and over the curve of her ass to hold onto her hip. She looked down at him and smiled. “Non.”

His eyes flicked to Harry. “ Peut-être après?”

Maybe after? She wanted to laugh in his face, and also flick his forehead. Clearly, he knew Harry didn’t speak French. If he thought there was any chance he could understand their conversation, there was no way he'd be so forward. Her anger flared at the lack of respect. 

Even though it shouldn’t. She’d think about that later. 

With way too much ease, she settled herself onto Harry’s lap. For a second, he stiffened, clearly caught off guard, but within seconds, his arms were around her waist. The guy wasn’t worth a response, so she didn’t give one. Only turned towards Harry and kissed his jaw. It was still tight. 

She lifted her hand and held it on either side, massaging her fingers into where she could feel him clenching. “Relax, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Not the point.”

“I know,” she whispered. Then giggled, the wine fueling her more than anything else. 

“What?”

“I think I like you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Jealous. Possessive.”

“Protective,” he corrected. 

She smiled. “That too.”

He shook his head, and lowered his lips to her’s. 

A knock on the edge of their table broke their bubble. 

A different man, older, stood behind Della’s chair, his hand holding the back of it. He pointed to his left, where a few feet away, his group stood around a table. In French, he asked if they were using the chair. 

Clearly, she wasn’t in her right mind, because she told him he could have it. 

“Wait, sir–” Harry started as the man took the chair away. 

“Let him have it,” Della said and she relaxed further into him. “I’m perfectly fine where I am. Prefer it, actually.”

She really was going to be the death of him. All her squirming and readjusting each time she reached for her wine or water had hardened him beyond the point of comfort. It was taking everything in him to get it to go down–barely. He just needed to relax enough to get out of there without poking anyone in the eye. 

“Ready?” Della asked after she drained the rest of her water. 

“Yeah,” he said, though he was not. As she stood from his lap, he tried, as inconspicuous as possible, to readjust himself, managing to tuck himself into his waistband. He only had to deal with the discomfort until they got to the car. He could do that. 

He led her out by her hips, strategically holding her in front of him as they moved through the tables and up the stairs. 

“That was cruel,” he whispered in her ear after pulling her against him once they got to the car.

“What was?” She looked up at him with mock innocence over her shoulder.

He bit the inside of his cheek, reaching around her to open the car door. With a squeeze to her ass, he nudged her towards the seat. “In. Now.”

She paused and looked at him, playfulness and heat in her eyes. 

He huffed in playful annoyance. “What now?”

“I think I do like you bossy.”

Before he could reply, she slid into the seat and Harry closed the door. 

He knew, undoubtedly, Della would be the death of him. 

They went back to her’s (logistically, according to Della, it was the only option considering she didn’t have a car and sleepovers were against the rules) and barely made it into the room before Harry had her dress bunched around her hips. 

She tasted like wine and everything good in the world–it made him dizzy. He teased her and licked her until she was a whimpering mess, her hands lost in his hair and her thighs left with handprints where he had to hold her down. 

He left careless marks on her neck, for anyone like the prick at the bar. 

Before he slipped his cock inside of her, he whispered, “Mine.”

And when he was all the way inside: “You’re mine.”

“For now,” she breathed, caught up in the trails of a moan. 

For more than that. 

He’d never say it. And with a hard thrust into her, he pretended he never even thought it. He’d be smart to call it off. Only a few days of knowing her and he was in too deep. He cared too much. Wanted too freely. And if she knew, she’d leave him without a second thought. Where she stood had been made crystal clear. Harry needed to pull back, return to the same page. He could. He swore to himself that after tonight, he would. 

After he came with his face tucked into her neck, they shared a plate of whatever bits Della had in her fridge, and she made them a snack of chocolate and butter on a baguette. She was so excited to share it with him that Harry couldn’t bear to tell her that his ex had introduced him to it when they first met. It didn’t matter, anyway, since it tasted so much better enjoyed tucked into the sheets with Della. 

Her ponytail had loosened, spilling red around her face and over her shoulders. He reached out to wipe a crumb from her mouth and she bit his finger. He fought off the swell in his chest with both fists. 

“Should we call it a night?” She asked through a yawn. 

No. 

“Sure, yeah. I’m pretty beat.” He cleared his throat as he got up and started pulling his clothes on. 

When he tried to pull away after kissing her goodbye, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped her in his arms, squeezed, and placed a soft kiss to her neck. 

He had just turned on the ignition when a text from Gemma came through.

This her????

Harry’s heart dropped into his stomach as he tapped the photo. 

It was a shot of him and Della getting into his car leaving the jazz club. 

Thankfully, since his body had blocked most of her from the camera’s view and it was taken at an awkward enough angle (most likely as whoever took it walked past them), all that could be seen of Della was her fire-hued hair. 

The relief was short-lived. What if there were more? What if they were clear? He thought of everyone around them and tried to remember if he noticed anyone trying to take photos. Usually, he could feel it. Being in the public eye for so long had given him a sixth sense–a learned survival instinct–but he was so focused on Della he wasn’t sure he would’ve noticed. 

“Fuck.” He dropped his head against the seat and ran a hand over his face. If anyone had seen them out the last few times, pictures would’ve already surfaced. They were safe on that front, but now? Now people knew where he was, and they knew there was someone. 

He wouldn’t let them take this from him, let them ruin it. If it went up in flames, it would be his own doing. 

He wanted to laugh at his luck. At his life. Harry was already going to feel the loss when the summer was over and that was enough to hurt. Now, he could lose it much sooner, and that wasn’t okay with him. 

He put the car in drive, and started home. 

[joannaliangart]

A LIST OF THINGS I CAN’T REMEMBER (2024) 6.5 x 6.4 in 23 page case bound book and handmade pastepaper. Papercut art and poetry

---

not sure if this is called papercut art? I'd been referring to it as 'paper art' in my mind but googling that leads to a lot of like, folded/oragami stuff too

final project for my praxis class in 3rd year! Got a good reception towards it during crit which was lovely C:

god this project took fucking FOREVER, I'm glad I did it because it turned out almost exactly how I pictured it but my goodness gracious AUGH it was a lil rough. I'd be working on this thing literally ALL day from morning till Very Late into the night for SEVERAL days straight to meet deadline it was kinda crazy. My floor was covered in a fuck ton of pastepaper I'd made and my finger was getting callused from holding the x-acto knife so frequently orz 23 pages of papercut images AND papercut words?? whhooweee

Watching a fullplay through of in stars in time is what kept me company during those long long days and nights haha, tis a very potent memory I have now (which now that the whole project-making ordeal is over is a p fun memory lol; isat is v v good)

some thoughts about this piece I jotted down in preparation for crit day:

A list of things I can’t remember my intention was to gather a list of mundane unimportant things as well as more like sad or poetically troubling things to disrupt it throughout. At the end it says “if I want to remember these things” because that is also something that I don’t remember, and it’s kind of the crux of the whole piece as this book at its core is about what kind of things are worth trying to hold into in your memory. 

That last page had black text because it’s the hardest to remember or think about, and as such it’s meant to be hard to read/make out clearly. 

The wavy black on the spine area is supposed to be like an encroaching darkness of forgetting lol

used pastepaper to make paper art trying to take advantage of the textures and colours I can make with pastepaper

+crit day installation! There were no white plinths left just this bright pink one?? But I was like. Actually that might fit the vibe lol and I think it did C: made the whole piece pop

For the assignment requirements we had to choose something from one of the special collections we visited, and I chose Janet Kellett's beautiful Qualicum Blue. And was also sooo grateful that googling it brought me to a whole website of theirs that had info on its creation. It's what got me into the rabbit hole of pastepaper and hoo boy! making it was a wholleee process haha; here's the slides I made for when we had to present our material research:

I did a WHOLE bunch of experiments; I really wanted to know what I could and could not do with pastepaper and I'm glad I pushed the material so much in the amount of time we had to complete this part of the project. My prof was surprised at how many experiments I did haha

+fun fact: I asked my prof if they could recommend me a place to source black paper for my book, and they sent me to what looked like such a weird sketchy on the edge of town looking place lmao But it was all good they were like a mass producer of paper or smth and they had a lil storefront? in their warehouse selling what I assume were leftover batches in smaller quantities; that was p fun and! Now I know where I can find paper

Also I got some remarks that the papercut art reminded people of The Very Hungry Caterpillar C:

[brostateexam]

He recognizes the precise rusty hue of Beninese soil. He can sense when grass is Mongolian. His astonishing skill extends beyond the game, too. He geolocates old family photos sent in by his fans, and when a TikTok influencer tried to gatekeep the source of New York’s “best” bagels (“you’ll never taste this goodness”), Rainbolt used subtle visual details to identify the restaurant. (It was Bagel Market.) His ability is uncanny, even unsettling, and he performs it with the shtick of an evil genius. “Nice,” goes his deadpan catchphrase, mumbled when he lands on or near his target. “We’ll take that.”

Rainbolt knows nearly nothing about lands beyond Street View’s reach. Up until a year and a half ago, he owned no functional passport and had never left North America. Late in 2022, though — after an evening spent, as usual, on GeoGuessr — he felt an unfamiliar pull. He imagined himself strolling the exotic roads he had memorized on his screen. He thought about glimpsing distinctive bollards I.R.L., seeing the world’s telltale street lamps in 3-D fullness. He had a yearning to view streets.

So Rainbolt sold his possessions, gave up his apartment and decided to live off earnings from his GeoGuessr content. He applied for an expedited passport; the day after it arrived, he purchased a flight to Germany. Back then, the country’s most recent Street View images were from 2009, and he was curious how the streetscapes might have changed. “Germany got an update,” he thought, after he landed. When we spoke over a video call last month, I asked what it felt like to “discover” a place he had already taxonomized in his head: Did memorizing Street View spoil travel? It was true, he told me, that walking around reminded him of playing the game. “You feel oddly familiar with a lot of the world,” he said — “like you’ve been there before.” (x)

[papercupids]

people we meet on vacation - jeong yunho

pairing -> jeong yunho x gender neutral!reader. (they/them used)

summary -> after bumping into what you call, the love of your life at a vaction once, you found that there was no way to find out more about him. 4 years later, when you've lost all hope, you finally find him and he's your boyfriend's bestfriend.

genre -> slice of life kinda (?), strangers to lovers.

warnings -> a bunch of curses, a tattoo, mingi is a real dick (sorry, had to be <3), it goes back and forth between the past and present a lot but its all labelled that's all though.

word count -> 4255 words.

a/n -> this fic isn't in anyway related or inspired by the book of the same name by emily henry, it's just that the title of the book went along with the fic's themes so i rolled with it :) a tiny, tiny part of it has been inspired by the first half of the bollywood movie, tamasha. and and, lastly, all the translations were taken from google translate so if you find any mistakes you know who to blame. ok bye, enjoy.

PRESENT, SEOUL, 2023.

“Are you ready, babe?”

Mingi calls out from the living room, tying up the laces to his boots. You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror and then called out in agreement. 

“Let’s go,”

when you're in the car with him, you look out of the window, watching the daylight completely drown out slowly. and then you look at your boyfriend, who is focused on driving. you're both going to his friend's birthday dinner and since it’s only been about 2 months of you both dating, it is one of the first time you're meeting his friends, having heard a lot of great things about them already.

he notices you looking at him and gives you a smile before giving his full attention to the road again.

mingi isn’t a bad person, you know that. but for some reason, there has been no one who'd been able to catch your attention fully or make you stay for even a month. the 2 month mark with mingi was a huge thing for you.

But then you visibly wince when you remind yourself about the texts. 

Never could you ever imagine that your tendency to never commit to anyone would bite you back in this form. 

When you finally feel secure enough with someone, you find out that they’ve been cheating on you. 

Mingi wasn’t a bad person, you convince yourself. It was just your karma.

when you reach the parking lot of the restaurant, mingi tells you to wait, he unbuckles his seatbelt and then gets out of his seat and slams the door shut and runs to get yours.

when you give him your hand, he kisses it gently, whispering a little into your ear.

"my angel looks so pretty tonight,"

and he holds out his arm for you to clasp yours into.

"ever the gentleman," you kiss his cheek.

as you enter through the glass doors of the hotel, you spot a lot of people, a bunch of foreigners going about, someone trying to check in, and people like yourself, here just for dinner.

"excuse me, what way is the banquet?" mingi asks on the front desk.

"oh, are you mr. kim's guests?"

"yes, yes,"

"straight from here, last room on the right,"

"okay, thank you," 

"___, can you go ahead? i need to take this call, i'll be there in 5,"

"let me wait for you?"

"oh, just introduce yourself, i really gotta take this,"

you were a little irritated (understatement) but decided to go ahead anyway, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

and as you step inside the white tiled room with a huge chandelier in the middle, and golden lit lights, you think you might be dreaming.

no, not because of the ambience. but because of the person sitting there, looking up at you, as surprised as you were.

PAST, CURÇAO ISLANDS, SUMMER, 2019. 

"who? what? why?"

"well, i don't know, i didn’t he would show up here when i told him we were coming here,"

"oh god," 

to say you were exhausted would be an understatement. your friend, jae-i and her "situationship" with the university playboy, kim sungwon was famous and you hoped that you could try to get her away from him during this vacation but turns out, old habits die hard. she claims she only told him that she was going for a vacation and apparently, he was here and "begging for forgiveness," because he deeply thought about how wrong his actions were.

"you know what, do whatever you want to, because to hell with our vacation, and don't you dare come to me when he breaks your heart again,"

you slam the door and get out. you weren’t that harsh and you did feel like you went overboard but she needed it. you would come back later anyway.

The bar was a couple blocks away from the cottage that you’d rented and it was right on the beach, a bunch of wooden chairs and tables and people enjoying their exotic coloured drinks, each one of them speaking in different languages. 

Speaking of languages, you weren’t quite sure of dutch. You knew the typical “hallo (hello),” and “ik ben nieuw hier (i’m new here),” but the basics was where it ended. 

“Um, hi,” 

“waar kan ik je mee helpen (how can i help you)?”

“English?”

He made a disappointed face. “No english, de werknemer die Engels kent, heeft pauze (the employee who knows English is on break),”

With a mental facepalm, you realize you’d even left your phone and wallet back where jae-i was, and you had no intention of facing her, especially if there was a possibility that the asshole would be there, and there was no point in trying to order without money anyway. 

“Nevermind, Bedankt (thank you),” he snickers at your accent but nods anyway. 

“Oh no, no, let me get that for you,” a tall man, absolutely gorgeous, with the looks of someone who could easily pass off as a well known celebrity appears beside you. 

“What do you want?”

“Its fine, i was just leaving,”

“Relax, i’m not a creep, just trying to help, you can pay me back later,”

“Oh, well, okay,”

A few minutes later, you and the handsome stranger were both seated on the wooden stools, he was taking in the sun without a lot of struggle since he brought sunglasses, meanwhile you, well, let’s just say it was a bad day for you. 

a little away from the arrangement of chairs there was a live band, some music playing as a couple danced, and then later the others joined as the tune got more upbeat.

As you sipped on the oddly coloured drink you’d seen a lot of people drinking, he turns to you, “so what’s your story?”

“Ah, well, i came here with my friend thinking it would be a little time before she could be away from her shitty ex, but guess what? He’s here,”

“Interesting story, i mean, sucks for you, but, it’s a nice plot,”

“Is that so? What’s yours?”

“Not much of a story, my one of my friends is getting married in september and the other is going to take over as ceo of his father’s company after this summer so we all decided on this trip as something of a milestone,”

“It would get harder to meet after this so,”

“Oh got it, got it,”

"wait, we never exchanged names,"

“I’m yunho,”

“I’m ____,”

he gets up, "in my opinion, You know, what you should do? Enjoy your trip, not everybody has a chance to take a trip like this and you really can’t let your friend ruin it for you,”

You think it up. “Ofcourse,”

He asks for your hand as he puts down his own glass. 

You’re almost about to slip your hands into his but then you hesitate, “but wait, don’t you have your own group of friends to worry about?”

“I think seven adult men can enjoy life without me. Besides, it’s not everyday I bump into someone like you or presented with an opportunity like this one.” he winks. 

Far away, the sun shows signs of weakening and giving into the sea, the music that’s steadily shifting to more mellow tunes and the noise of the sea gulls. 

Yunho takes your hand and guides you to the open space, a couple of people are dancing but the attention from the crowd focuses on you both as you laugh at yunho’s actions. He attempts to spin you and the crowd cheers at that, the beats become more and more danceable. 

His hands are on your waist, and his eyes, those eyes. They stare right into yours as you dance. Even though you shrug it off with your laughs, you can feel the spark. And then he’s close, way too close to be with a stranger that you just met, and instead of facing him, you just lean your head onto his chest and close your eyes. 

“Kiss already,” someone from the band shouts. 

And then you look up at him, “what do we do?”

“Only if you want to,”

His words repeat in front of you again, “...it’s not everyday i bump into someone like you or presented an opportunity like this one,”

You close your eyes and reach up to him, it honestly catches yunho by surprise but it’s over almost as suddenly as it is initiated. A peck. But it was more romantic than any kiss he’s shared with anyone. 

PRESENT, SEOUL, SUMMER, 2023.

"hey, you came with mingi right? oh my god, you’re gorgeous, how did he even score you? i'm wooyoung, by the way,"

"i'm _____," you blush, this man certainly knew how to make a fist impression.

"Where's mingi? is it his manners to leave his date alone?" 

to which you let out a chuckle, "he got a really important call, he'll be here in a bit though,"

"let me keep you company then, and fulfill mingi's duty of introducing you to the others."

a few people are gathered on the far end of the table opposite from you and a few are sitting on the table already engrossed in a conversation except one of them who looks at you, eyes fixated.

“That is our friend yunho, san and his mate, milo.”

Yunho. Him. fate. There were so many things going in your mind right now, all of the memories, him paying for your drink, spending the entire day with him, forgetting that a thing like a mobile even existed, it was so funny that you both met again. There were almost zero chances, after you came back from your trip, you searched every nook and cranny of social media from whatever information you had of him, scanned every public setting, just in hopes that somehow, just somehow you bump into him again. And unfortunately, this is how you meet. 

“Hey,” he extends his hand. Does he remember all of that? Given it was not more than even a day spent together, but it impacted you, did it impact him?

There was like an unspoken agreement to not mention that you’d met before, because you’d not seen a lot of his friends on the trip neither had they seen you nor had yunho ever seen jae-i, all because of that stupid agreement. 

You try searching for recognition in his eyes, but mingi comes before you can try communicating with him even a little. 

“Mingi! Dude, why’d you leave your date alone? Thank god i was around to help,”

Mingi looks at you, “so you’ve already met them, i see,” and takes your hand into his, and never have you ever wanted to pull your hand back from someone this badly, because you look at the subtle way yunho’s eyes flit to the clasped hands and he backs away. 

-

“Hongjoong,” 

The said person is too deep in conversation with someone yunho has never seen but has deduced that they’re most probably business partners. 

He calls out to his friend again. And hongjoong looks at him, he mutters a “please,” and then steps away.

He’s careful not to be in the earshot of the group that wooyoung, mingi, you and san have created, they’re very curious to know you, someone mingi had been talking about for months, labelling his new date as his best ever. 

“Oh, mingi’s here,” hongjoong notices as he steps to the side yunho is, “wait, yunho, i’ve seen-”

“Shhh, shut up, shut up, this is exactly why i brought you here, keep your mouth shut, mingi’s date, the one he’s been bragging about, is the person i fell in love with in the summer of 2019,” he releases his hand that he had been holding over hongjoong’s mouth. 

he touches his elbow slightly, to remind his friend.

And the older guy doesn’t say anything. 

“It’s just you who knows, so please, don’t tell anybody, and don’t let anybody know that you know them,”

“It’s just unbelievable,”

And hongjoong watches as they both look at you, he looks at the way yunho watches you. “I remember you being all miserable because you couldn’t find them,”

“Yes, it’s unbelievable but also unfortunate, i’d rather have they not met me at all than this,”

Hongjoong wishes he could have done something, but he doesn’t even know what to do. He wishes he could have taken his friend’s pain because it’s so cruel but he tries to cheer the other up instead, leads him to the dinner table and carefully diverts the conversation to anything but you and mingi. 

PAST, SUMMER, 2019.

"and i'm supposed to believe that?"

"i swear, i've never done it,"

"you've never ever fallen in love?" the stranger you met at the beach is clearly in disbelief over the fact that you've never been in love. it's after dinner that you're again here at the beach, walking on the shoreline.

"i don't think it's consciously my choice, it's just something that happens, i become obsessed with a person, i think that its love but then it wears down as fast as it comes."

"uh huh, okay, so you won't fall in love with me?"

you look up at him, his face lit up by the different shades of colours, the streetlight on your left, the headlights of the cars speeding past, and the lightings that are decorated on stalls at some stalls. he looks absolutely gorgeous but more than that, there's something in his eyes, that makes you feel like you actually could. you could actually dream about a forever, and this time maybe even fulfill it. was that possible? 

but the realization that you're probably never going to meet again sets in and he looks away too, thinking the same thing maybe.

"nevermind, i'm sorry,"

"wait, yunho,"

he'a already a few steps ahead of you when you stop him, he looks back at you with a questioning look as you point to at something.

"a tattoo?"

you nod.

"you want to get a tattoo with me?"

"there should be at least a little something that i can recognise you by if we ever cross paths again,"

he looks at you in awe as you walk over there, determined to get a tattoo, with or without him. 

as he follows you, he knows something very clearly, he'll do whatever you want. even if he doesn't know you, he knows that he's had a feeling of love. not entirely falling but a fleeting kind of. He doesn’t pay much attention and without giving it much thought, follows you. 

"hey, yunho,"

he turns back, spotting hongjoong at a little distance from where he was standing, his friend walks closer to him and he has a bag full of beer bottles, clearly leaving to refill the party with their friends.

"we've been looking all over for you, buddy,"

"uh, i've.. found a friend," 

"where?" he points to the tattoo shop where you're talking to the guy, and swiping through designs.

"that's great, dude, about time you find someone,"

“Yeah, and i hope y’all don’t mind it,”

He tsks in reply, “they’re all shitfaced, they probably won’t last for more than an hour or so, and that’s when i can finally drink,” he points to the beer bottles. 

"hey," you call out from your place, and interested to know the stranger standing beside your new friend, you walk up to them.

"you're?" 

"i'm hongjoong,"

“Nice to meet you, hongjoong,” you give him a smile.

"you're getting a tattoo?" he asks.

"if yunho agrees," 

"yunho, hmmm, you should go ahead, do it," 

"oh, wait, hongjoong is a great artist, he can draw something for us," yunho suggests. 

"well, if you want me to,"

and about an hour later, there’s half a butterfly on the area above the elbow on your right arm and the same location on his left arm.

"well, that was painful," you say, gripping your covered arm.

"you think?"

"but well, now i have something to remember you by so i'm not complaining," he adds.

which makes the both of you go silent again.

you want to ask him his number, but something stops you. Looking back you’re not so sure of what held you back but you wished, wished so bad that you’d taken some number, some contact anything. Heck, even an email address would have sufficed. 

But thinking that you can probably search him up on instagram or snapchat or something, you don’t bother about it.

"let's meet here tomorrow? you're here right?" 

you ask him, curious to know if he's into hanging out for another day.

"ofcourse, i'm craving some pancakes for breakfast,"

"we got it! let's have pancakes tomorrow,"

PRESENT. SEOUL. 2023

"hey, i'm hongjoong,"

"oh, hongjoong,"

the man visibly pales over your mention of his name but you can't resist it, all of it is coming back to you in such a full swing and you can't even do anything about it, you should have just stayed home.

and then the tattoo, your bare arm left it being exposed, nobody would know its meaning but it just felt like an open wound right now and you wish you had some extra sleeves so you could just cover them up.

yunho is ignoring you, and as you are, too. but it keeps on poking you with a stick, the memory of all of it, and you shake your head, it was just a day, you cannot let it have so much effect over you. and it just killed you that you couldn't just drop mingi's hand and tell him that this was the man, this was the guy you had fallen in love with, for the first time and intensely and in the period of not even a day.

throughout the dinner, his friends keep trying to make you comfortable and so does mingi but every time he talks to you and you're forced to look away from yunho, it practically rips your heart apart and then the thought of going home and then again being apart from him. it just seemed like a nightmare.

hongjoong looked awkward as he tried his best to not let anything slip out of his mouth, he looked like a bad liar. and as you sit there on the dining table you realize that the guy who was getting married after the summer was hongjoong, and it was almost his 4 year anniversary soon. and the guy who was taking over a company was the obnoxious but sweet, wooyoung.

But yunho seemed different with them. When he was with you, that day, it felt like he would just about do anything without any remorse at all. And today, the tie around his neck felt too tight. 

"excuse me, i need to go to the washroom," you needed some air.

"should i come?" mingi offers.

"i'll come too, i need to get some air, i'll help you find the way?"

the dining table doesn’t notice the way the air shifts around you both and mingi nods and carries on with his previous conversation with san but you walk up to the door with yunho walking behind you and keep walking until you've reached the far end of the corridor, where he pulls your hand to stop and then looks around and opens a door.

"that's a janitor's closet-"

"shhh," he quiets you down, there’s nobody who would hear you, but its just that he wants to look at you, quietly. think about that day again and again.

you look into his eyes again, the door has slits so the lobby lights spill into the room and parts of his are visible, including his eyes. the eyes you fell in love with, is that even possible, to fall in love with someone's eyes, or to fall in love with someone you just met for a day?

"why did you leave suddenly?"

"i-" 

he places a finger on your lips, leaning towards you in the small, dark room filled with brooms and the smell of room freshners. 

and his voice comes out as a whisper.

"i searched the entire island, all hotels, all the resorts, the airbnbs. there was not a single corner i hadn’t looked for you that day, where were you?"

"i had to leave, jae-i's family found out that she'd been with that jerk and they called us home immediately, and i tried finding you but i had to leave on the first flight that morning and i'm just so, so, so, sorry,"

he puts away his finger and sighs, "it's fine,"

"fate is such a bitch though,"

"you think?" you snicker. 

"what do we do now?" he asks. a deafening silence follows. 

"i'm going to leave,"

"again?" 

you don't pay much attention to his comment.

"i'm going to get out of mingi's life because i obviously can't live with him knowing that i'm in love with one of his friends,"

"and what about us?"

you place a hand on his chest.

"there was no us, yunho, how can you even be with me like this? all we'll end up being is each other's worst secrets, i don't think i'd want that, i don’t think you would want that either."

he nods.

"you fell in love with me?"

"yes,"

his tears glisten with the light.

"i fell in love with you too, and that morning i was going to properly introduce myself, take you out on a proper date, tell you that my drunk self was just beyond crazy for the shit he'd pulled the day before. but i guess fate had other plans,"

A FEW WEEKS LATER, PRESENT, 2023.

a few weeks later, when he gets a text from mingi in the groupchat, yunho feels a stake through his heart even though it was his friend who just got dumped.

he's brushing his teeth, while he goes through the texts for the entire day. mingi writes, it's been days but i've been kinda busy so i just thought i'd let you all know.

and then a notification for a private group chat, something the others had a knack for doing when they wanted to spill some gossip on the recent event in the main group chat, this particular one was revived from last year's surprise party for mingi's birthday. so the gossip was about mingi.

it was san, "you know he deserved it, milo told me he saw him with some other girl in a hotel one day,"

Hongjoong : “really? He’s such a fool for doing that to y/n, they definitely deserve better,” 

Now, that felt like a very personal jab. 

The others express their opinion too, with wooyoung saying he kinda predicted it with the way mingi left you alone that day at hongjoong’s party and yeosang and some others concluding with “what can we do? It’s his life, hopefully, y/n is not hurt a lot,”

he facepalmed. why? why were the fates so fucked? was it possible any of his friends would have your number? would it be weird if he asked for the number of one of friends' ex lovers? god, the amount of bad luck he always seemed to have was astronomical. 

Hongjoong called him right after the texts ended. 

“You, my friend, have the worst luck in the entire world,”

“Shut up, don’t rub it in,”

he lays down on his bed, tired from the day. It was only 7 pm but he felt like it would be better if he just slept. 

“We should have lunch tomorrow, by the way, my treat,”

“We’re not having a pity party for me, joong.”

Just then the doorbell rings. “Wait, hold on, i have a visitor,”

 He puts the phone on the shoe rack and walks over to open the door. when he opens, he sees the white bag before he can figure out its you. because you've shielded your face with it.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,”

when you move it out and finally take a look at yunho's face, he takes a minute to register it's you.

and he grabs you into a hug as soon as he realizes. guess his luck isn’t that bad even.

Hongjoong, still on the call and listening over, is concerned for yunho. “Hello? Yunho? Who is that? Yunho??? Answer me? Is someone stabbing you?”

after he realizes he's almost blocking your windpipe and realizes it's rude to just cry in the looby of your apartment complex, he invites you in and properly takes a minute for his emotions to settle down.

Meanwhile, hongjoong has ended the call and resorted to calling again, so yunho can pay attention to his phone. 

“Hello?”

“Oh my god, you’re alive,”

“I’m alright.”

And you walk over, looking at the caller ID, decide to introduce yourself, “hey, hongjoong, remember me? You drew my tattoo for me?”

“Yunho, what the fuck, man?”

“Don’t blame him, he didn’t know i was coming. And i stole his address from mingi, at least he was of some use,”

“Woah,” the older man is clearly surprised but then cuts the call after telling you both to not lose this chance and that he will talk to yunho tomorrow.

“So,” yunho says, you’re both in the kitchen, your white bag placed on the counter. “What is this?”

“We never got to have those pancakes,”

[e-dubbc11]

Imagine being Rumlows roommate (he just has one because I said so 🤣) and one day you catch him coming out of his room like this:

First little peak you get of his body, but boy does it do things to you. And by each day it gets harder and harder to resist the attraction 😏

My lovely Lily, this has been sitting in the back of my brain since you sent it in. This is sort of a roommate situation. I hope what you like what I did here. Thank you for the ask my love! ♥️

Starting Over

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Smut! (18+ please or else I’m telling on you!) Oral F! Receiving, fingering, unprotected P in V sex(be safe out there), Drinking

Word Count: 4.5K-ish

Summary: After a bad breakup, you needed to have a fresh start but after getting a new job and selling your house, you forgot one important thing…a new place to live. Luckily a friend of yours might have a solution.

A/N: I haven’t written any smut in awhile so I think I’m a little rusty. Please be gentle and I hope you like it. I know there was something else I wanted to put in here but my brain fog has been so bad lately, I can’t remember what it is

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Why can’t she just stay with you?” Brock asked, the tone of his voice was elevated and raspy.

Frustrated, Jack replied. “You know I only have a studio and she should have her own space. It won’t be for very long, I promise. She’s looking for a place to live as we speak.”

You did leave home rather hastily but your break-up had been tough. Even though you tried moving on, your ex just kept popping up everywhere you went and it appeared that HE had no problem moving on, showing off his younger piece of ass every chance he got. So for your sanity, you had to move on and move out of your hometown.

It was hard to watch so you just decided not to subscribe to that channel anymore. You stayed long enough to sell your house and find a new job in a new city. You wanted a fresh start and Jack was the only person you knew that lived in D.C.

He was a childhood friend from high school and you had been on a couple of dates with him while in school but it just worked out where you just ended up being really good friends.

Brock seriously considered saying no but Jack caught him on a good day. He felt a little bad for you that you felt like there was no other way to move on with your life except to leave town.

“Ok, fine but you owe me, Rollins!” Brock said.

Jack felt a sense of relief as he let out a long exhale.

“Thanks Rumlow, I really, really appreciate this. I’ll bring her by later.” Said Jack.

The call ended and Brock placed both hands on the counter, hung his head so his chin touched his chest, and took a deep breath. He wondered if he was going to regret agreeing to let a stranger live at his place for who knows how long.

He thought about reminding Jack what his favorite kind of vodka was so he could bring it with him later but he let it go. He finished his coffee, gathered the things he needed for work and locked the door behind him.

It was going to be a long day.

**********

Brock arrived home that night around 6 and started to prepare for your arrival. He made up the bed in the spare room and tidied his apartment a little. He was a bachelor, used to living how he wanted, not answering to anyone, and definitely not used to having a woman around.

But he would have to get used to it no matter how much he didn’t want to.

There was a knock on his apartment door around 7:30. When Brock opened the door, he wasn’t what you were expecting to see on the other side. He was quite handsome with dark brown hair and eyes the color of Tennessee whiskey. You hoped he didn’t catch you staring at him with your mouth open.

“You must be y/n. I’m Brock, Jack told me a lot about you. Please…come in.” He said.

You entered the apartment, wheeling your suitcase behind you with Jack following close behind. You had a handle of Tito’s vodka in your other hand and then placed it on the kitchen counter and extended your hand for Brock to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Brock. Thank you so much for letting me stay here, I didn’t exactly think it all the way through, picking up and leaving like I did. I made sure I had a new job but forgot I needed a place to live. But I really do appreciate this…I got you a little present, Jack told me it’s your favorite.” You said with a warm smile.

Briefly, one of the corners of Brock’s mouth turned up into a half smile but then went right back to pressing his lips together, firmly and furrowing his brow.

It was obvious he wasn’t really comfortable with someone invading his space like this and you couldn’t blame him for being a little grumpy. Jack did spring this on him at the last minute and gave Brock little time to prepare for your arrival.

“Yeah…You’re welcome. So, I made up the spare room so you can put your stuff away…down the hall and first door on the left.” Said Brock.

You left Brock and Jack to talk while you went to your room to settle in a little but you felt a little guilty for disrupting his life like this. Clearly, he was used to living alone and now because of your hasty decisions, he was stuck keeping a roof over your head until you could find a place of your own.

You were close to finding one though. Every apartment that was acceptable, you put in an application for it so you were just waiting to hear back from one of them at least.

You heard Jack call down to you to tell you he was leaving. He gave you a hug goodbye, said he’d talk to you soon and he would talk to Brock tomorrow. After he left, there was an awkward silence between you and Brock.

You guessed he was a man of few words and it didn’t help that you were painfully shy so starting a conversation with him would be difficult for you but you needed to make it more comfortable if you were going to be staying there.

Brock finally broke the silence.

“You wanna drink, y/n?” He asked.

You nervously sat down on the couch and protectively pulled your knees into your chest.

“Oh…yes, please. That would be great.” You replied.

“Thank you for this, by the way. It’s really generous of ya.” He said, taking ice out of the freezer.

Watching him reach for the glasses in his cabinet, the sleeve of his black t-shirt rolled back to reveal the muscles in his arms. You bit down on your lower lip wondering what his body looked like under his shirt and warmth rushed to your cheeks.

It had been months since you had been shown any physical affection and now you were sharing an apartment with an incredibly sexy man.

While Brock was mixing drinks, you pulled out your phone to text Jack.

“Why didn’t you mention that Brock was hot?”

You texted.

He texted back.

“Um, because it’s not something that crosses my mind y/n. Ohhhhhh it’s been awhile for you, hasn’t it?”

You squinted and furrowed your brow as you wrote back.

“Oh shut it…goodbye!”

He texted back a bunch of laughing emoji’s.

“Oh you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do for you letting me stay here. I promise it won’t be for too long…at least I hope it won’t be.” You said with a slight tremble in your voice.

“Here ya go, doll.” Brock said, handing you the glass with your vodka soda with lime.

You felt yourself start to blush upon hearing the little pet name.

“Thank you. So, you and Jack work together? He won’t tell me exactly what he does, I don’t suppose you could tell me?” You asked.

“Sorry sweetheart, I can tell you the basics but nothing juicy.” He said with a slight smirk, taking a sip of his drink.

You were turned on just by the way he held the glass and watched his throat move up and down as he swallowed the cold liquid. Thankfully, he distracted you with a question.

“Can you tell me what you do for work, y/n?” Asked Brock.

Your eyes widened as his question snapped you back to reality.

“Oh, the defense contractor I worked for up north also has an engineering office down here so I just found another job doing similar work.” You said.

Trading questions back and forth, you talked with each other for a couple of hours until you both started to yawn and your eyelids became heavy with sleep. It seemed like the both of you had a long day.

“Well, I’m off to bed…towels are in the hall closet for when ya wanna shower. I have a bathroom in my bedroom so take your time…goodnight y/n.” He said softly. His voice sounded extra raspy.

“Goodnight Brock, and thank you again.” You replied.

He went into his bedroom and shut the door, leaving you in the living room, alone with your thoughts. But you didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts.

It seemed all you could think of was your ex and how badly he hurt you, continued to hurt you in the months following your breakup and how he made it absolutely unbearable to stay in your hometown. That was your home, you shouldn’t have had to leave but he didn’t leave you any other choice.

With Brock asleep, you decided to clean up the dishes you dirtied and managed to find the coffee along with the filters to set up the timer on the coffee pot so fresh coffee would be ready for when you got up the next morning for work.

After your shower and with your head resting on the pillow, you just stared at the ceiling, the room filled with darkness as you waited for your eyelids to get heavy again but for some reason, they didn’t.

You were wide awake listening to the whistling sound the wind made outside your window and your mind wandered to thinking about Brock.

You closed your eyes and imagined his strong hands roaming all over your body, the scruff on his face lightly scratching the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, pinning your arms above your head as he kissed you aggressively.

That’s how you pictured being in bed with Brock Rumlow, a little bit rough but those thoughts made you so wet that a soft moan escaped your lips as you finally drifted off to sleep.

You had a feeling it was just going to get harder to resist the attraction to him and how long it would be before you couldn’t resist any longer.

**********

The alarm startled you awake and out of the dream you were having. It surprised you that you had slept so well in a strange place but you woke up feeling better than you have in a long time.

You put the finishing touches on your outfit for the day before emerging from your room to get some coffee. Brock’s bedroom door was still closed so you tried to be extra quiet while taking a mug from the cabinet and looking around for the sugar.

You heard Brock open his door. When he walked around the corner, he was pulling his shirt down over his muscular torso. It was difficult not to stare, he was in really great shape…as close to perfect as anyone could be.

The ache between your thighs was growing, forcing you to clench them together and release a soft gasp that you hoped he didn’t hear.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear ya get up. Actually, I forgot you were even here…been alone for so long, I just have to get used to ya bein’ here.” He said, the husk in his voice more pronounced after being asleep all night.

“You want some coffee?” You asked.

“Yeah…sounds great, thanks.” Brock said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. “How are ya gettin’ to work this mornin’?”

“Oh I have my car. I followed Jack over here last night.” You replied.

Brock looked around at his kitchen and remembered there were dishes in the sink last night. The counters had been cleaned and his mail was neatly piled at the corner of the breakfast bar. The confused look he had on his face made you crack a smile.

“The kitchen was dirty when I went to bed last night, right? I’m not seeing things.” He asked.

You covered your mouth to try and keep him from seeing you smile.

“Well, I noticed it was dirty after you went to bed so I just cleaned up a little before my shower.” You said.

Brock finished his coffee and placed his cup in the sink. “Thanks…Ok, well I’ll be back around 6 tonight. Jack told me you go into work early also but I know you’ll get back before I do. The spare key is under the mat…I’ll see ya later.”

He picked up his backpack, his motorcycle helmet and walked out.

These were the types of exchanges you and Brock had for about a week. He was a man of very few words and it was almost like he had no idea how to live with someone else.

He would go to work, come home, and that’s it. He’d never go out with anyone, not even Jack which made you a little sad for him.

You finally got a phone call about one of the apartments you had filled out an application for, it was the one that was the nicest and the one you wanted the most but it wouldn’t be ready for another two weeks.

“I’m sorry, Brock. I know I said it wouldn’t be for that long but I’ll be outta your hair in two weeks, I swear.” You said nervously.

He looked at you with a slight smirk across his lips and said, “I told you doll, it’s alright…stay as long as you need to.”

At that moment, he seemed a little more comfortable having you there. Maybe he actually liked having you stay with him? Whatever it was, it didn’t feel awkward anymore but it was still hard to pretend you weren’t attracted to him.

To know what his body looked like under his clothes, his handsome face and honey colored eyes…just thinking about him made you blush.

You got into the habit of making dinner when you would come home from work. Sometimes he would be around to eat it before you went to bed and sometimes he wouldn’t be. After dinner, you would sit and talk…he was always asking questions.

You thought the reason he asked so many questions was because it kept you from asking anything about him, which was fine…he didn’t have to talk about anything he didn’t want to.

Being in a new city was scary and having only one friend in that city was even more frightening. But after a few more days, you felt like you could consider Brock a friend too. Although, you were sure that friends don’t picture their other friends naked.

Well, maybe some of them do.

Some nights, it wasn’t uncommon for you to go to bed before Brock got home. On a particular rainy night, you heard him come home late. Large drops of rain pelted against the building and the ceaseless winds seemed to make it their business to try and uproot the trees below.

It sounded like he threw his backpack hard against the wall and continued to make a lot of noise so you decided to get up to see what was going on with him.

You should have known better than to sneak up on him. Jack had told you enough about what they do to know that they were highly skilled in hand to hand combat so before you could even say Brock’s name, he had grabbed your wrist, spun you around to face away from him and pinned your arm against your back while holding a knife to your throat.

“Brock! It’s m-me! It’s y/n!!” Your voice trembled.

His hands felt cold and wet against the soft skin of your wrist while his thick fingers held onto you very tightly. The blade felt cool against your neck and suddenly your mouth became very dry, making it difficult to speak again.

Brock finally realized what he had done and dropped the knife. You heard it hit the floor and your eyes immediately welled up with tears. After turning around to look at him, Brock raised his hands in front of him to show you he wasn’t holding anything else.

“Y/n, I am so sorry! I didn’t know it was you! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” He yelled.

His actions scared you and you were paralyzed with fear but the look he had in his eyes was equal parts sadness and anger. And rather than run away, you inhaled sharply and let out a long exhale before doing the only thing you could think of that might comfort him.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed as hard as you could. His body tensed in your embrace but quickly relaxed when he returned your affection.

Burying his head into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushed against your skin making the hair on the back of your neck stand up and sent a shiver down the length of your spine.

“What happened, Brock?” You asked softly.

Still dressed in his tactical clothing, he told you he, along with everyone else, thought it would be a simple mission but it went wrong…horribly wrong.

It was supposed to be a convoy to go from point A to point B, drop off the package and leave. But they had a number of new agents with them that panicked when things didn’t go smoothly.

Everything worked out in the end, they finished their job and everyone made it back safely. But Brock was the leader of his STRIKE team and he wanted it all to go perfectly and when it didn’t, he didn’t know any other way to cope with it than to lash out in anger.

He was quick to apologize again.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart. I would never…” He trailed off and hung his head. “I’m…I’m sorry…”

You had always been painfully shy and quiet, never speaking unless you were spoken to, that kind of shy. And if you were being honest with yourself, it was still surprising that you had any past relationships because it was difficult for you to open up.

It was difficult for you to be assertive in any way when it came to showing affection or being confident in your own skin.

Uprooting your entire life and moving to a new city terrified you. In the past, it was something that you could never ever picture yourself doing but you did it and you did it all by yourself. You were stronger than you thought and if you wanted something then you should go get it.

So it surprised even you when you inched closer to Brock, your eyelids were warm with his breath and you ghosted your lips over his before not being able to control yourself anymore. He smelled like fresh rain and your fingers found their way into his damp hair as your lips crashed against his.

He didn’t pull away but rather pulled you closer, his kisses were hungry with clashing teeth, his tongue dancing with yours as you whispered his name against his mouth over and over again.

You were shocked at the lack of your own restraint when your hands traveled down to the hem of his t-shirt which was soaked from the rain. The heat was radiating off of his skin as your fingers lightly touched his chest and migrated down his stomach muscles to his belt.

The words that escaped his lips surprised you.

“I’ve wanted you since the first second I saw you. Jack failed to mention that you’re absolutely beautiful.” He whispered.

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as you replied, “Well he didn’t mention to me that you’re sexy as fuck, Mr. Rumlow.”

Suddenly his hands were under your ass, he picked you up with ease as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he carried you toward the bedroom…his bedroom.

Brock was not gentle with you but you didn’t want him to be. He practically tossed you onto the bed and quickly climbed on top of you as his lips collided with yours once again. He kissed you desperately and with a hunger that was so new to you.

The passion behind it was something you had only seen in movies, it never happened to you in real life but you craved this type of affection, this type of passion, and it only deepened your desire for him.

Brock nipped at your bottom lip and jawline, peppering kisses down your neck as he tightly gripped your outer thigh, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed his thick fingers into your soft skin.

Your t-shirt and shorts were hastily discarded onto the bedroom floor, leaving you just in your panties and his hard cock pressed against your core, causing a soft moan to escape your lips and a low growl escaped his.

You didn’t know it was possible but you pulled him down even closer to you, the warm breath from your mouth lightly brushed the top of his ear which made him even more feral and he growled louder into your ear.

It felt like torture waiting for Brock to touch you in your most sensitive area but that changed as soon as you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your underwear and slip into you.

He moved them rhythmically, hitting just the right spot deep inside that caused you to whimper and your walls started to tighten around his talented fingers.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. You gonna be a good girl and come for me?” He whispered against your lips.

He draws out another soft moan from you, it had been so long since you had even been kissed that you felt like you could come just from the finger fucking he was giving you. He drew circles on your clit with his thumb, bringing you closer and closer to your release, and you felt like you were going to explode.

Before you could cry out his name, Brock firmly gripped your chin and captured your lips with his so all you could do was whimper into his mouth as he kissed you aggressively, pressing his hips down in between your legs even harder than before as if to make sure you weren’t going anywhere until he let you.

Breathing heavily after coming down from your high, the corners of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. “Oh I’m not even close to being done with you, doll.”

He suddenly disappeared in between your legs. You could feel his stubble brush gently against your inner thighs as he hummed against your entrance and you ran your fingers through his damp hair. Arching your back off of the mattress, you recklessly called out his name over and over again.

“Brock…I…can’t…” Those words were all you managed to get out before he brought his gaze up to meet yours and finished what you started by removing his pants. You wanted him. You wanted to feel every inch of him inside you.

Your thoughts were all over the place, and you were still shocked this was actually happening. His focus was solely on you and it surprised you how easily he slipped inside you, stretching you out before slowly starting to move, hitting just the right spot deep within your core, the spot that caused your vision to go white and your walls to tighten around his cock.

“You can give me more, sweetheart. I know you can.” He commanded.

You’ve never had someone who had been so eager to please you, who took care of you in bed, or who put your needs first before his own. You could feel yourself soaking the sheet underneath you as the cries of pleasure he ripped from you turned him on.

He fucked you hard and deep, forcefully pushing you into the mattress while your nails scratched up and down his back as he grunted loudly into your ear.

Somehow, it was almost like he knew that you’ve never been fucked this good before. You could almost feel his sly grin against your cheek as you gripped his waist as tightly as you could with your legs before his name fled from your lips. Your walls began to flutter as his movements became faster and insistent, he was close too.

“Ah…fuck!” He cried out.

Searching for his lips with your own, you were eager for his kiss, and desperate for the passion that you haven’t had in so long.

So you lifted your head slightly and pinched his jaw gently with your teeth until his lips met yours. He kissed you hard before spilling into you and then collapsing on top of you.

You could feel yourself trembling underneath him as a tear streaked down the side of your face from the overstimulation. Brock took your hand in his to comfort you but you had never felt better.

“You alright, doll?” He asked. “I didn’t hurt ya did I?”

You shook your head and bit down on your bottom lip.

“No, of course not. If you couldn’t tell, I was having a great time.” You chuckled.

He moved a stray piece of hair away from your eyes and smiled warmly at you. It was probably the first genuine smile you had ever seen from him. It wasn’t forced or a just-being-polite smile, it was an actual smile.

“Is that an actual smile, Mr. Rumlow?” You asked.

He tried to cover his smile.

“Ah, ah…too late. I saw it already. Ya know if you have another bad night like tonight, I might be available again to help work out some of your aggression.” You said with a wink as you tried to catch your breath.

“Is that right, sweetheart?” Asked Brock.

He started to smile again but stopped himself and all of sudden looked really nervous.

“Brock? What is it?” You asked.

He inched closer to you and gently pressed his lips to yours. They were warm and soft as you brushed his stubble with your thumb and smiled against his mouth.

“I was just thinking…” He said. “This probably wasn’t what Jack had in mind when he asked if I could do him a favor. So…who’s gonna tell him?”

Quickly, you pointed to your nose and said, “Not it.” And laughed.

Brock let out a raspy chuckle. “Or, maybe he wanted this to happen. Ya think?”

Gently tugging back on his soft brown hair, you gazed into his light brown eyes and said, “Well, that should make it easier to tell him then, right?”

“I ain’t gonna tell him by myself. Even though I think I can take him, he is bigger than I am.” He joked.

You smiled, kissed him again and said, “Ok, I’ll stay in the room when you tell him, but I don’t think he’ll be mad.”

“You don’t?” Brock asked.

You chuckled as you replied, “Nah, once he sees the smile you put on my face, he’ll probably thank you.”

Your joke made him laugh.

With a devilish grin, he said “Well, I like putting a smile on your face, doll…in fact, I’d really like to do it again, if you’re not too tired.”

Maybe starting over wasn’t so bad after all.

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @munsonownsmyass @k-marzolf @redstarsandnightmares @randomlittleimp @nutmeg17 @gijos @nekoannie-chan

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[venus-is-thinking]

Deciphering the DRDT Character Playlist

Hello DRDT community! @accirax and I took a look at the official character song playlist [remade version bc it got deleted or privated] and decided to take our own shot at figuring out whose is whose and what it means. It's pretty late, but we have at least some sort of a guess with reasoning for every song!

We used a combination of Genius lyrics, the vocaloid lyrics wiki, and google translation of Japanese lyrics in the YouTube description to get a decently functional interpretation of every song. Our theory goes through the songs in the order they show up on the playlist (we're pretty positive it isn't kill order), which means our confidence varies heavily from song to song. With that being said, let's go!

Diamond is Unbreakable by Yunno Kago: Ace Markey

This song does not have many lyrics, so a lot of our guess is based on vibes (though it gives much more than some other songs). The rock instrumental with more yell-based vocals feels like it suits Ace though, and I feel safe to say that Ace has had a breakdown (and may have many more in the future).

Sing Along by Sturgill Simpson: Teruko Tawaki

This song fits Teruko quite well. It has an edgier sound to it, but it isn't completely uncaring if you look at the lyrics.

I can't go on living alone now that you're gone You done me wrong, so here's your song

It reminds me of the scene where she plays with the cacti. She clearly misses Xander (and possibly others in her past), but that obviously doesn't stop her from feeling betrayed by them either.

There are a lot of lyrics about bitterness too (ex. "words can stab as deep as night," "bitter air and the winds of spite"), which reflect how Teruko has been treating the rest of the cast in Chapter 2. It's a duality of caring too much and acknowledging the harshness of the world, which encapsulates Teruko's character quite well.

RUNAWAY by half alive: Hu Jing

Not gonna lie, we were struggling on this one. This song is pretty much entirely predictive of a character arc that Hu might have later on. We're predicting this based on Hu's secret quote, which is basically the only reason we gave this song to her: "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live."

This implies that she has not paid for "what [she's] done," which probably relates to her secret. I know a lot of people think she might be the hopeless child, but I'm far more partial to the theory that Hu is the one who poisoned her competition. If she hasn't paid for it, it's possible she feels like she ran away, from the situation which could open the door for her handling those feelings later on.

cartoons by Louie Zong: Rose Lacroix

This entire song is about drawing and thought processes, which both relate to Rose's character pretty strongly. The recurring lyric of "it's all just cartoons in [her] head" makes me think of her photographic memory, which takes real life and permanently stores it in her mind.

There are also lyrics like "feeling every day the same" and "trying to make that old deadline" that strongly relate to her background with the Spurling Foundation. She feels like she's just watching the rest of her life go by as a corporate slave, and those feelings are wrapped up in a light and airy song, matching Rose's demeanor.

asymptotic by Louie Zong: Charles Cuevas

This is a silly little nerd love song. As a CharWhit shipper, I definitely think that there's a strong chance that this relates to Charles' feelings about Whit, calling him a "cutie face in x-y space" and other such things. It's pretty simple, but it's true that, romantic or not, a lot of Charles' character arc thus far has revolved around his relationship with Whit and realizing that he does enjoy spending time with his classmates.

However, notably, there's also the lyric "I'll forget," which made me start thinking about Charles' past he forgot about.

Asymptotic, obliquely Here's the point of this speech As close as we could ever get, you'll be just out of reach

This reads to me as being about Charles' memories or the older brother he doesn't remember losing. As close as he can get to remembering or understanding what happened through things like the secrets motive, it won't be the same as actually returning to that past or remembering it in full. Maybe that's reading into things a little too hard, but I think the interpretation is there to be read.

A Mistaken Belief of Love by Niru Kajitsu: Eden Tobisa

I'll be direct: this relates to our theories about how Eden is the Chapter 2 killer. I'm a particular proponent of the interpretation that Eden didn't believe Arei when she said she wanted to be friends and decided she wanted to escape back to her old life, to the girl she kissed. I'm not going to go into that Eden theory now, but @/1moreff-creator and @/thebadjoe have a great thread going back and forth which goes over a lot of what I personally believe to be true.

If you assume that Eden is the killer and wanted to be Arei's friend but gave up on the possibility when Arei snapped at her, the lyrics start to make sense. "Then I'll kill you at our rendezvous" would clearly relate to Eden summoning Arei to the playground just to kill her. "I just wanted to mistakenly believe that you loved me" relates to Eden's feelings towards Arei and the rest of the class, but that "mistaken belief" was shattered, causing her to kill.

Shunran by John/TOOBOE: Arei Nageishi

This song chronicles Arei's entire character arc, from prologue to death. It starts out much more aggressive and unfriendly, saying things like "I won't pay attention to small fry" and "I become angry easily." However, there's a recurring lyric that shows how she actually feels.

They say that praying to be loved is a sin. It has such a sweet scent.

Arei desperately wants to be loved, for people to be nice to her, but she's learned over the course of her life that she couldn't have that. Still, she can't help but want to be loved, so even when she knows that David is a manipulator, she still listens to his words. Even when she knows she's been awful to Eden, she swears she'll do anything to prove to Eden that she's serious, that she really does want to be her friend.

I pledged a ceasefire. My personality peeled off and fell because I have the courage to accept disappointment

As the song progresses, that desperate desire to be loved creeps its way into the actions the singer takes as well. Arei was willing to put aside her meanness she learned as a defense and try to stop the fighting, try to become friends, because she's strong enough to try even if she might fail. Through it all, all she wants is to be loved.

Yesman by Niru Kajitsu and Hachiya Nanashi: Nico Hakobyan

This song has a lot of lyrics relating to how the singer expresses scorn or insults. We know that this is a focal point of Nico's struggles with communication: they don't know what comes across as hostile or helpful.

However, as the song progresses, it gets more purposefully aggressive. There's a particular set of lines that seem to relate to how Nico interacts with Ace. They can tell Ace that they hate him, directly, and no one even blames them.

You could say that and you're still just a kid. How amazing!

This, in my mind, relates to Nico saying that they'll kill Ace (and clearly meaning it), but Hu still babies them. They can get away with all kinds of things.

There's no reason for me to turn back now, huh? I was caught in my own trap

Nico then, realizing that they can get away with a lot, goes after Ace, trying to literally kill him. They were caught, though, explaining the second lyric here.

The song also has a prominent lyric: "I'm an introvert, just waiting." There are variations on this, but I think it gets across the core idea: Nico is quiet, but they're still a part of the story the whole time, waiting for an opportunity to get their way.

Undead Enemy by Suzumu and Giga P: David Chiem

This song hinges around David's false persona of smiles and motivation and his true self who hates everything and everyone.

For whatever reason, he put on a mask symbolizing The leading role he had yearned for in the past.

Here, David is choosing to put on that motivational speaker persona.

And, from the next day onward, The unhappy boy's smile did not falter, He was even loved by someone

David then keeps up that happy and inspirational self, without fail, so that the world will love and accept him as the Ultimate they expect him to be.

However, the lyrics are filled with more hateful lines that sound more like him in Episode 11.

Slander and criticize, and then, I won't need anyone else. Just leave me alone

I act spitefully in disgust and force a smile

While he pretends to be happy and good, he knows himself to be much worse. This song focuses on those true colors.

Drawing Pins by Nothing but Thieves: Levi Fontana

Levi is a very pensive character. The main line of the song is "tell me what you did it for, 'cause I can't figure it out." That could relate to Levi's apparent struggles to understand others and what the "correct" thing to do in social situations is, like when he asks others how to handle the situation with Ace. I also like the interpretation that he could be talking to himself, wondering why he did what he did in the past. (Whatever mysterious past Levi has, it's clear that he did some things he's not thrilled about, and he seems to have a lot of feelings surrounding it.)

What do I have to do To be loved, loved by you

I'm personally not an AceVi shipper, but this line would definitely relate to Ace. Levi messed up in the first trial, threatening Ace, but in Chapter 2, he's trying to make up for it. Nothing he seems to do works, though, so he's at a loss as to what he could possibly do to make it up to him.

Hi-Fi Evolution Theory by Keu Studio: Veronika Grebenshchikova

Disclaimer, we had to put this song through google translate, so our lyrics might not be entirely correct.

Given that, though, I'm pretty confident this song must be Veronika's. There are a lot of lyrics that indicate her, but the most important ones surround what we've most recently learned about her: she can't stand boredom and will do just about anything for fun.

But is it selfish to have fun?

The one who laughs last is the winner

Even though Veronika knows that enjoying the killing game or possibly even working against the group's best interests in it is stupid at best and evil at worst, she'll still do it as long as it keeps her entertained. If she's selfish, she's selfish; she'll do it either way.

tip toes by half alive: Min Jeung

This song heavily ties into Min's outlook which she explains in her bonus episode. The lyrics mention a "need to be known," or a "pride" that's "screaming." She internalized a core need to become an Ultimate to keep her going forward and to preserve her hope.

She does want to change her behavior, though.

My future will listen to me, Listen to me, listen to me

Min is trying desperately to find a life for herself now that she's become an Ultimate. She wants to learn how to live after she's achieved the goal that her entire life has centered around. This song is her searching for the life that she wants to live in spite of her previous experience.

The song also sounds sort of desperate with its repetition of "listen to me" and the overall vibe of the instrumental. This fits in with Min's increasing desperation as she realizes, at the end of the first trial, that she won't have a future to figure out anymore.

Polygonal by fallstay (ふぁるすてぃ): Xander Matthews

This one was also put through google translate, so apologies for any mistranslations!

This song makes sense for Xander if you consider his clear survivor's guilt, visible through both his bonus episode and his secret quote, which is, in the most literal way possible, the dictionary definition of survivor's guilt. It mentions a "life full of mistakes" and describes other similar thoughts.

I'm dizzy and it hurts so much that I feel like throwing up

The urge to scream and someone's loud sobbing

That's my pain

These all feel like ways Xander interprets his past, which is his pain. We already know that Teruko accidentally running into him and hitting his eye hurt so badly he passed out, which is a step beyond "dizzy." Someone could be sobbing about his past; maybe it's even him. The things in his past that haunt him are what shape who he is and his actions, and that's what this song is about.

Spitfire (05 Version) by The Prodigy: J Rosales

This one has like one lyric. The vibes fit J though, and I don't really know who else's it would be or what other song would be hers, so it stays.

desk rotation by RQ laji-2: Arturo Giles

I'm not gonna lie. This is an instrumental. We have no idea what it means. This was process of elimination. I don't know what other song Arturo's would be so he gets this one.

(In all seriousness, you COULD give this one to Hu because it's music and she's a musician, give Arei the more hopeful RUNAWAY and give Arturo Shunran. The beginning of Shunran fits him decently, but I think the interpretation sort of falls apart in the middle of the song, at least given what I know about his character, and I think it fits Arei much better.

After we read some other theories, too, we think there's a viable shuffle that goes like this:

desk rotation: Hu (musical connection) tip toes: Arturo (generally prideful, future emphasis contrasting with his secret forcing him to think about the past) asymptotic: Min (abstracted to apply to the life she wants to seek out, math works as Ultimate Student) RUNAWAY: Charles (relating to him "running" from his past memories, positive growth arc)

While I still like our initial interpretations for Charles asymptotic and Min tip toes, I like the handling of RUNAWAY and desk rotation better with this one.)

For whatever it's worth, I also think there's a slight possibility that desk rotation is a placeholder song. It's a complete instrumental (all other songs have at least SOME lyrics), so it wouldn't be too insane to me if they had a song that they decided was just too spoiler-y to be released to the public. In that case, I think it's possible desk rotation will one day be replaced with a different song. Realistically, though, it's probably just here and we have to figure out what the hell it means.

Good Grief by Bastille: Whit Young

Whit obviously lost his mother at some point, who he clearly idolizes. You can see the glowing way he talks about her in the laundry room with Teruko and Charles, and his secret quote is literally "We tend to idolize the dead." He loves his mother, but given his secret, it's clear that she is dead.

This song is about grief. Whit represses a lot of his emotions, so I expect he hasn't yet felt his grief in full and hasn't processed it. He has, however, made it very clear that he struggles with loneliness, and that has a lot to do with his loss. I think that, over the course of the story, he's going to have to actually process grief and experience sadness. While it's possible that'll just be due to the feelings he has surrounding his mother, given that he's in a killing game, I think that he'll have to confront personal loss again to have this arc.

Regrettably, I think that that'll probably come in the form of Charles dying, likely as a Chapter 3 victim. Others have theorized on that, but suffice it to say that, narratively and based on hints they've dropped, I think it's probably true ( :( ). Whit, as he clearly cares about Charles, would then be confronted with grief again. He'd have to endure it and learn to deal with the loss.

On the plus side, I'd expect he'd be likely to survive afterwards.