#i should really re-read what i write because i don’t remember half of this

[etherealising]

ugh. even though it was a “tame” chapter you still ripped my heart out and all the groundwork you laid here has me sweating in anticipation.

i literally can’t even write a non angsty chapter if i try. i too am sweating in anticipation because what am i even writing

i also randomly remembered that this masterpiece wasn’t always going to be a full fic with fleshed out lore and i’m grateful to be in the timeline where you continue to bless us with more barby (even if it’s angsty as hell) ((i love the angst))

i genuinely forgot about that and honestly maybe it shouldn’t be because i immediately forget what I write after posting but i am enjoying this journey. but oh well barby thrives!!!!

okay so this is so beautiful in that her mom gave her the advice that she would need to hear regarding her present situation with carmy before it was relevant and before she died - it’s like she’s speaking to her from the grave. mother baby was giving her the tools before baby even knew she what she would need them for.

right mama b was like lemme give it to you straight

god FUCKING damnit, how did you know that relationships with a clock/expiration date are my weakness? i hate to love the angst but god do i love the angst

ohhh i love this!!! the expiration date is definitely curtesy of mr. carmen

yeah no baby is so much stronger than i, i feel like i would be embarrassed to go grocery shopping in front of any of them - let alone cook for them

*sigh* life is easy when you’re the main character

this is so sweet!! i love the brother bear nods they are so adorable to me

i have not watched this movie in years so idk where all these brother bear call backs came from but giving mikey that nickname was an opportunity i could not pass up.

he just like me fr (socially inept)

he really said we’re so in love she’ll just automatically know what i’m asking

i just had the most disgustingly sweet thought of nat’s pregnancy cravings consisting of Baby’s Desserts™️ and nothing else

oh bestie it’s canon

omg hes so jealous

the jealousy is through the roof with this little dummy

carmy is the king of standing in his own way - this is such a major roadblock he’s going to have to get over before him and baby can have any chance at a happy ending

definitely heavy on the ‘friends-strangers-friends-lovers trope’

this is so traumatic to live with, and this whole speech of hers was so impactful and raw.

i cry during at every chapter i write

i love that the only real identifier in his apartment of who he is is of him and baby, that’s just really tugging at my heartstrings. i am a slut for the man who hates everything but his partner trope. ANNNNDDDDDD now we get to see wingwoman sydney blossom!!

syd’s just like y’all sure ain’t acquaintances in this picture chef…

carmy is so lucky that baby has a thing for emotionally unavailable men because otherwise he would have no chance up against our golden boy hayden. also i think i’m back to imagining hayden as bradley bradshaw bc he gives the strongest divorcee energy to me lol

so damn lucky cause hayden would’ve had me bent over in the frozen food aisle. also def understand the bradley bradshaw divorcee energy when i look at him all i see is divorced middle aged white man

YES LET THE JEALOUSY BEGIN!!!!!!!!!! oh my god i’m so excited about this it’s embarrassing

jealousy jealousy 🎶 these two are abouta be cock fighting *wink wink*

than the TWO OF YOU?? allowed?? my boy really thinks that nothing more transpiring was a mutual decision?? his head is so full yet so empty at the same time

bestie just wait till you catch up with the next chapter this boy is so stupid!!

fuck i forgot that it would more likely be a love square than it would be a love triangle. stupid boy knows nothing but how to be a stupid boy.

is it a square if carmy doesn’t actually care for Claire romantically anymore….idk just a thought

chapter five | we keep this love in a photograph

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader | f!reader x the bear crew | male!oc x f!reader | carmy x claire | carmy x wingwoman!sydney |

summary: as plans are set in motion and renovations move forward, carmy finds himself entangled with the thought of you.

warning(s): guilt | grief | language | mentions of death | mentions of suicide | substance abuse | recovering addict | idiots in love | self-sabotage | insinuation of sex | semi-edited | please let me know if i missed anything

wc: 7.1k

It was 4 am, and the heat from your oven warmed the kitchen. The biscuits lined up nicely on the cooling rack, You hadn’t given much thought to the task at hand, too busy trying to remove yourself from the guilt-ridden thoughts that plagued your mind most nights.

Peach juice coated your hands, the rhythmic act of peeling them helped you to silence the foreboding thoughts fighting their way to the forefront of your brain.

The handwritten recipe card was placed strategically out of the way to not get ruined while you worked around the kitchen. You were no chef that much was obvious, but your mom taught you the art of cooking from a very young age. Instilled in you a sense of independence.

Standing in your kitchen as the night began its metamorphosis into day, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the role your mom played in your life. As a single parent, your mom was adamant about you knowing how to live life without having to depend on the goodwill of others. And even when the Berzattos entered your life, she made sure that you were never too comfortable.

You were allowed to spend as much time with the family as your heart desired, your mom wanted you to understand and enjoy human connection. But she’d always make sure you knew how easy it was for a person to walk out of your life. She liked to remind you that you couldn’t control other people’s actions, and just because you were important to someone today, didn’t mean those same feelings would transcend into tomorrow. To take a little, but never too much, to allow a certain level of comfort but always remember your role in other people’s lives is never as important as you may think.

All the peeled peaches sat atop the cutting board, awaiting the moment they would be pitted and cut into symmetrical slices.

Parents, either unknowingly or not, pass down their own beliefs and ideas to their children. Children who were essentially sponges waiting to soak up whatever knowledge and information was thrown their way. You knew this first hand, your mom’s need for independence is the same flaw that now afflicted you even into adulthood.

The independence that was so far from what you craved growing up, so drilled into you by your mother, that you instead hid behind your dependency on the Berzatto family.

That same need for independence that you had finally given in to and had almost killed you five months ago.

While your mom saw her life lessons as a teaching moment to never overstay your welcome. You easily disregarded it growing up, how could she not expect you to live in your vulnerability, to depend on people she had so easily allowed to love you and take up space in your life?

You didn’t blame your mom for allowing you to know the Berzattos but you blamed her for the part of you that would always remember her words. Always make you second guess if your actions affected people the way theirs did you.

Her words once again made an appearance when Carmy first distanced himself from you and finally made a permanent home in your head when Mikey passed away.

A shrill beep alerted you, the oven was ready. The peaches are pristinely cut, along with the previously made peach simple syrup both awaiting use.

Gingerly adding all the ingredients to your Dutch oven, you placed the lilac pot into the oven before beginning to clean up the mess you made.

You knew your mom did her best raising you with the hand she was dealt. Your father, a shadow you’d never know. Her own life experiences an excuse to protect you from the world, from yourself.

As her health deteriorated, you watched your mom's outlook on life become less skewed. But what good would that do you? The little girl you once were absorbed her constant message and stored it in the back of your mind for safekeeping, awaiting the day such a pessimistic ideal system might one day be put to use.

The timer on your oven was ticking down, the hoard of minutes left until the peach cobbler was done brought on a feeling of despair. Watching the timer dwindle minute after minute felt like a metaphor for your life at the moment.

Time was running out, and maybe that wasn’t true but you sure as hell did feel that way. The time you had left to confess your shortcomings to Richie quickly passed by. The expiration date for whatever the fuck was going on between you and Carmy fastly approaching.

You couldn’t allow these things to continue festering in your life. The weight of them exhausting you, you couldn’t keep pushing on like everything was okay like nothing had changed between any of you.

Choices you made inadvertently affected them just as much as they affected you. You didn’t want this wall between you and them anymore, and even if the wall was nonexistent to them; it was very much real to you.

You would figure things out, you had to. There was no time like the present to commit yourself to fixing the lives you had messed up.

It was easy though walking through life as if you hadn’t ruined anyone else’s. It was almost like you hadn’t, if they weren’t privy to your vices, was there any point in coming clean? Any point in apologizing to them?

Those thoughts were wrong and you knew it. You had to admit your wrongdoings to yourself, to understand why the people you loved the most in life were deserving of an apology, because if you didn’t you would constantly spend the rest of your days justifying why your actions were okay.

Justifying the fact that because you didn’t mean to overdose, that made everything you did okay. That, because you were just going through a mentally tough time in your life, turning to stimulants to aid your grief, was fine. That you were trying to forget for all the right reasons.

Reality was though, there was no right reason for the choices you had been making this whole time. And that was something you still had to come to terms with.

Closing your eyes, your head fell back, face pointed towards the kitchen ceiling. A tired sigh escaped your lips, the exhaustion of recovery taking its toll on you. Tired of standing in the kitchen and being berated by your mind you decided to begin outlining the exposè you were hoping to write on The Bear.

Busying your mind was the easiest option right now, too much unnecessary thinking put you back into the mindset that got you into this mess. Silencing any unwanted thoughts was no longer an option for you, but focusing on something else was proving to work for the time being.

You had made a colossal mistake. Who did you think you were to bring people who cooked for a living a sweet and savory cobbler? That wasn’t your initial plan when you couldn’t sleep this morning and decided to bake. But after removing the dish from your oven allowing the aromas to swim through the foundation of your house, you couldn’t bring yourself to keep it.

A dish that was introduced to you through your mom and the lineage the both of you carried. A dish that Mikey would always want for, but never expect when you did make it for him. A dish that you had spent countless times baking with Carmy by your side the two of you messing up the recipe more than once.

A dish that you once loved so much, but after your mom's death it always tasted like something was missing. And now baking it for the first time since Mikey’s passing you couldn’t even stomach the sickly sweet smell of it.

Walking through the lot to the back door, you were unsurprised to find it unlocked. Entering, you began walking through the kitchen making your way to the counter to place the pastel Dutch oven, the tote bag with vanilla ice cream you picked up on your way there following quickly after.

You weren’t sure who was already here at this time but thought it’d be a nice thing to do by offering them a bowl of the diabetes-inducing dessert. The chunky knit cardigan you were wearing was relegated to the stool next to you, the kitchen felt unusually warm, or maybe that was just your body's natural reaction to being in the restaurant.

Since Carmy had taken over the joint you couldn’t pretend you knew where anything was located. You knew Carmy to be the type of person to run a tight ship, expecting a certain standard from his co-workers.

Searching through the various storage spaces lining the kitchen, you unconsciously bobbed your head to the music singing through your headphones lost to the angelic voice streaming into your ears.

Locating a stack of clear containers you grabbed them before searching for any utensils to eat with, trying four drawers before finding and pulling out a mix of forks and spoons. Finally making your way back to the counter you began ripping the plastic from the store-bought ice cream.

The noise in the kitchen alerted Carmy, the time on his phone signifying that it must’ve been Syd. Inching toward the kitchen he stopped for a moment to check the monthly timelines that were hanging in the front. Every day was filled with a new task, it would be do or die from here on out to even think about opening in six months.

Making his way into the kitchen he stopped the body taking up space notably not Sydney. Your head bobbed up and down to whatever was playing through your headphones. The quiet hum of your voice easily met his ears in the silent kitchen.

He watched as you raised a spoon into your mouth, confused as to why you were in his kitchen this early in the morning. The closed-off kitchen setup didn’t allow him to see what's taking up your attention.

Quietly maneuvering around to get a better view of you, the sudden thought that this may have been an invasion of privacy quickly crossed his mind. He was moments away from leaving you to your own devices before he spotted the scars painted down your right arm. The deepest one tracing from the top of your tricep to your elbow.

Small cuts littered around the larger one, almost like the smaller ones were put there as accent pieces to the main scar. Carmy couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck happened to you after you left his apartment that night, looking from afar it looked as though someone had gone at you with a broken beer bottle or something.

The movement of your arm drew his attention to the reflection of light off of the tape-like bandage above your elbow. His eyes found two bears he would know fucking anywhere, the amount of times you forced him to watch that movie with you and Mikey drove him fucking insane.

Seeing you in this kitchen reminded him of when you were teenagers. It was hard to come to terms with it but he resented you for working at The Beef, resented Mikey even more for allowing you to. It wasn’t fair to you, the more he thought about it the more he realized a lot of the shit he did and felt wasn’t fair to you when you were both younger.

Carmy made his way around the counter you were working at, stopping in front of you the only thing separating the two of you was the steel slab of metal. He wasn’t sure how to get your attention, not wanting to startle you. Standing there watching you shovel what he now knew to be peach cobbler, the nutmeg and cinnamon aroma delicately caressing his nostrils.

The scent easily transported him back to all the moments the two of you spent in borrowed kitchens making this exact dessert.

You were so caught up in the music blaring through your headphones that you hadn’t realized the presence standing in front of you. You jumped spoon clanging against the table as a tattooed hand reached out for the no longer empty container housing the contents of your homemade cobbler and store-bought ice cream.

“Jesus fuck Carmen!” A hand raised to clutch at your chest, you understood how Tina felt yesterday after you snuck up on her. You quickly pulled the headphones off dropping them onto the counter, “Why the fuck are you sneaking around and shit?”

Carmy stared at you blankly, eyebrows raised before his head nodded toward the bowl he was aiming to grab. You rolled your eyes before nodding, “Sure Carmen, almost give me a heart attack in this shit hole kitchen, oh and while you’re at it don’t forget to try my peach cobbler.”

“Heard.” A small nod was sent your way before he shoveled a spoon full of the dessert into his mouth.

A scoff escaped your lips, you picked up your discarded spoon before taking another bite of the ice cream. The atmosphere between the two of you became awkward real quick, neither of you willing to break the silence, neither of you knowing what to say to break the silence.

“So uh, what’s with the cobbler?” You eyed Carmy surprised he was the first to break the silence, you shrugged distracting yourself by putting the lid back on the Dutch oven to persevere the content's warmth.

“Dunno, couldn’t sleep,” it's not like you were lying to him, but standing in his presence acting as though everything was okay made you feel guilty.

“You uh still bake when you can’t sleep?” The sigh you let out was an indication of how this small talk was the last thing you wanted to be doing.

“Obviously Carmen,” your hand shot out to gesture to the pastel pot between the two of you.

“Right…right.” The drumming of Carmy’s finger’s against the steel caused a slight irritation in you. Nodding you wiped the non-existent grime from your hand on your pants.

“Right, well I need to finish my proposal.” You walked the spoon you’d been using to the dishwashing area before joining Carmy one more time, “I’ll be in the dining area if you need anything.”

“You said uh, that you were writing about Mikey and The Beef.” You nodded, waiting for him to finish his sentence, it didn’t sound like much of a question so you weren’t sure what form of response he was expecting.

The silence stretched around the kitchen, an unwavering stare down between you two filling the air with even more tension. You expected things to be stilted between the two of you, but things felt like they were on a whole other level now.

“Well, this is for everybody,” finger quickly pointing at the treats you bought. “It’s kind of a thank you for letting me be a part of this, even if you guys don’t sign off on the article.”

“No, yeah um awesome.” The blank stare you aimed in Carmy’s direction bordered on disgust, leave it to him to make an awkward situation even more awkward, it sure was a talent of his.

You picked up your tote bag and cardigan before heading to the dining area, hoping there was still a table and chair you could occupy. If working here with Carmen meant every interaction would be like pulling teeth, you’d make sure to ignore him like the plague.

“Is that peach fucking cobbler I smell?” Richie’s voice carried through to the dining area where you had sat staring at your finished outline.

You finished a bit ago but didn’t want to chance running into Carmy while it was still just the two of you here. Hearing Richie’s voice and the slight noise as you slipped your headphones off proved that you were no longer alone with one of your oldest friends.

“Baby! Where’s Baby?” You laughed maneuvering out of your seat to head back into the kitchen, unsurprised to find Richie and the rest of the crew gathered around containers of ice cream and cobbler in their hands.

It seemed too early in the day to attack your tastebuds with such a sweet confection, but it was kind of your fault for bringing it in in the first place. You made your way to Sugar’s side with a small smile on your lips as she ate her portion.

In the month after your release, before your house was ready you stayed with Nat and Pete. Your restless energy was channeled into your mom’s dessert recipes, a way to keep your mind occupied and the only way you knew to thank the two adults who hadn’t given up on you.

Nat constantly made it obvious that she missed the constant sweets you would bake just for her.

The two of you made your way to where everyone else was gathered around, you couldn’t lie seeing the empty pot caused a sigh of relief to leave you. You weren’t sure if you could handle being ridiculed by chefs for your poor-tasting dessert.

“This don’t taste like moms baby, you do somethin’ different this time?” Richie eyed you as he raised the spoon to his mouth, it may have tasted a bit different but that didn’t deter him from finishing his serving.

“Uh yeah, a friend of mine taught me how to make this peach simple syrup. It like helps the biscuits stay moist or something. Chef talk isn’t my strong suit.”

Carmy wasted no time before looking in your direction, he was situated across from you, and no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever teaching you how to make a peach simple syrup. He watched as Marcus began talking your ear off about the dessert, the two of you falling into quiet conversation as you found a connection in sweet confectionery.

It was hard to watch as you so easily integrated yourself into the crew, Syd raptly listening to yours and Marcus’ conversation as if you were some award-winning chef and not just some journalist who knew how to bake. As he stood there watching everyone in the kitchen, he couldn’t pinpoint why his thoughts surrounding you seemed so bitter, he didn’t hate you, didn’t think he ever could.

But as he focused on you more, he realized that you were a part of Mikey he never really got to know. Of course, you were Carmy’s best friend but when things between the two of you fizzled out, Mikey’s role in your life became larger, even if you were separated by states and time zones.

Carmy knew he didn’t hate you, but it was hard for him to look at you and not see the relationship he wanted with his brother. He didn’t blame you, but he resented the way it seemed so easy for Mikey to love you, to be open with you.

Catching your eye he nodded his head in the direction of the dining area curious to hear about this article you were thinking about writing and maybe learning more about how it all connected back to Mikey and The Beef.

He made his way to exit the kitchen assuming you would be following behind him. Carmy stopped before turning around, he couldn’t make this decision by himself or at least that was his excuse as he called for Sugar and Sydney to join the two of you. It was probably all for nothing though as he knew the two women were already on board.

The four of you took seats at the table, the arrangement was oddly reminiscent of the meeting yesterday, this conversation taking place at the same table. You sat lonely on one side of the table while the other three occupied the other side.

You glanced down at your laptop in front of you realizing it might be better to join the others, the graphics would have been all for nothing if they couldn’t see them. Quickly grabbing your laptop you wandered over to the three individuals before plopping it in front of them on the table, you walked to grab the closest chair scooting it next to Carmy. You were too worried about the response to your proposal to be worried about being in such close contact with Carmy.

Sitting down you tried not to let the brush of Carmy’s leg against yours bother you, adjusting yourself in your seat before clearing your throat.

“Uhh, I made a PowerPoint,” the time you spent hiding from Carmy this morning allotted you the opportunity to do so. “It’s pretty self-explanatory, but I’ll walk you through it.”

You began clicking through the slides, the nervousness you were feeling earlier taking a backseat as you so easily settled into your element. Time flew by as you grew more passionate about the article with each slide going into even more depth than the information in the presentation did.

“The reach this article will have might just be the difference in The Bear’s success or the lot of us paying back a loan in 18 months.” The smile on your face was enough to show how excited you were at the prospect of being able to go forth with your project.

“Or you know, the food might actually play a part in The Bear’s success,” you looked in Sydney’s direction, confidence shot before noticing the small uptick at the corner of her lips.

You nodded a small chuckle leaving your lips, “I guess the food might play a part.”

Two smiles directed towards you helped to make you feel infinitely better about the whole situation, you were doing your best to disregard the figure sitting next to you. Not doing a very good job as his leg continued to brush against yours which felt like every millisecond, you didn’t want to assume he was doing it on purpose but it did disrupt your focus while explaining your presentation.

“I think it’s a great idea. We’re going to need the exposure,” your eyes shot to Nat as she began speaking. “I mean, there’s really no cons to going through with this.” The encouraging smile Nat sent you reciprocated on your lips.

When nobody spoke up Syd began nodding along, “Yeah, I-I think it’s a great idea, though my opinion may be a little biased.” Her words drifted off into a soft mumble as she realized her previous reading of your work may have influenced her answer.

The two women’s agreement seemed like all you needed, no sign of Carmy itching to chime in. The lull in conversation created an opportunity for everyone to take their respective leave and work on their tasks for the day. You gathered your laptop in your hands and moved the chair you were using back to its original spot.

Making your way to your bag and cardigan you began putting your laptop away and making sure all your belongings were in there so you didn’t leave any valuables behind. You tried to ignore the presence that stayed in the room with you, not in any mood to deal with Carmy’s hot and cold attitude.

“Why is this article so important to you?” Carmy hadn’t said a word doing your entire explanation. It would've been easy to believe he wasn’t in the room if it wasn’t for his warm leg constantly pressing against yours. His arms crossed over his chest, it was hard to pretend you didn’t know what was hiding under the knit crew neck he was wearing.

You found his eyes, the exhaustion in them a mirror to your own. For a minute it was easy to imagine the two of you were teenagers again, the urge to find a seat next to him again and pour your heart out scratching at the back of your mind.

“Can I be honest with you?” You took a glance in Carmy’s direction watching as he relaxed his arms almost like he was opening himself up to whatever you had to get off your chest.

“I uh,” a sardonic chuckle passed through your lips. “I told Mikey I’d write about him one day and…and by the time I finally made it far enough into my career he…he left us.” Carmy’s face didn’t give much away about his feelings making it a little easier to continue your train of thought.

“It's just something I need to do I guess,” you shrugged your shoulders as you faced Carmy once more. The want to be near him won over, taking a few steps to the middle of the table before leaning against it, the once large gap between the two of you now lessened.

“He uh, called me that night. I was at a screening for a friend’s documentary so I just let the call go to voicemail. Texted him after that I’d call him in the morning.” It was weird, Natalie had seen you at your lowest and you had yet to tell her the whole story behind the infamous voicemail that kept you up that night. But standing here with Carmy at this moment gave you a sense of safety you had been lacking.

“I remember waking up in the middle of the night with so many missed calls from Nat and Richie, your mom even called me once,” a humorless laugh escaped your lips, the confidence you had earlier to tell this story dwindling with each word.

“I finally answered Sug’s next call and I remember before she even said anything, I felt like this ache in my chest.” Your hand had subconsciously moved to your chest pressing against it as though you were trying to relieve a bout of heartburn. “And I just…I could feel that something was wrong and you know my first thought was you, tha-that something happened and we never got a chance to fix us.”

“But then Sugar lets out this heart-wrenching sob, like this bone-chilling cry that just like freezes your blood and I’m sitting there listening to her cry and then I’m crying and I don’t even know why yet. And it feels like…like we’ve been on the phone for hours just crying with each other before Pete calms her down enough,” the shakiness not only evident in your voice but your hand that was still resting on the table by your hip. “And it's silent for a moment but I know, the moment the first syllable passes her lips it's like I lose all of my senses and I’m just sitting up in bed, numb to what she’s saying. And it can’t be real, you know because Mikey just called me only a couple of hours ago.”

“As soon as I’m off the phone with Nat I immediately call Richie, and the first thing he says to me is ‘Baby I’m sorry’ he apologizes to me like his best friend that he probably spent his whole day with didn’t just blow his brains out.” The lump in your throat was begging to be free, something you wouldn’t allow to happen. “And Richie is sitting there fucking consoling me because I’m too goddamn selfish to take one fucking breath and make sure he is okay.”

You finally meet Carmy’s eyes again, waterline wet with the tears you won’t allow to fall. “I guess I say all of this to say I owe this article to Mikey, maybe if I had just picked up the fucking phone he’d still be here with us.”

Carmy has no idea how to respond to anything you’d just told him at a loss for words as he allows your emotions to sink into him. He gently reaches his hand out, not knowing if a comforting touch would help, but wanting to do his best to let you know he was there with you. The two of you sat in each other’s presence, the weight of your confession weighing heavy in the room. Carmy knows nothing he says will change anything, it won’t bring Mikey back and it won’t lessen your grief, so for a while, he doesn’t, the two of you sit there connected by your hands.

“Uh, I’m not sure how much Sug told you, but there are these Al-Anon meetings for uh family members of addicts and I’ve been going for a while now,” he gave your hand a small squeeze to make sure you were still listening. “It helps to understand what Mikey was going through.”

You looked down at the man below you, a blank look on your face. You gave him a soft smile as your thumb caressed his knuckles, “Yeah I uh I’ll look into it.” You had wanted to laugh, the irony of the situation not lost on you but you appreciated the help Carmy was trying to offer.

The approaching footsteps easily forced you back to your side of the table, quickly occupying yourself to look busy so you wouldn’t have to explain why you were alone with Carmy. You listened quietly as he and Syd began conversing about something that was none of your business.

“I’m just gonna hang around here before I’ve gotta be at work if that’s cool with you guys?” You looked at the two chefs more so telling rather than asking but still wanting to be polite.

Syd nodded “The more hands the better I guess.” You sent a small smile in her direction before heading to the door hoping to make yourself useful and occupy your mind from the guilty thoughts.

Avoiding Carmy’s eyes as you not going unnoticed by him, though neither of you expected the conversation to take the turn it did. He was relieved that you still felt comfortable enough with him to have a conversation of that nature.

Sydney was doing her best to focus on the chaos menu with Carmy. But with it being the first time in a space so personal to him, she couldn’t help but take in the small details around his apartment that gave a look into who he was.

It was surprising to her really, the whole apartment was bare, lackluster of any interpersonal items besides Carmy’s belongings that one would expect to see. Syd tried not to come across as nosy, or too interested in the small things her eyes did catch onto, but it was hard.

Like the group picture stuck to his fridge with a random cheap banana magnet that no one ever knew they had but it just appeared in their kitchen one day. Or the aesthetic-looking knife set that Syd would equate to something a suburban mom might have in her kitchen and not the gritty anxiety-riddled chef she was cooking with.

What really prickled her curiosity though, was a picture of the two of you strategically placed above the stove. Syd was awarded a glance as Carmy removed his closet from the oven, she couldn’t tell how recent it was from the few seconds she saw it, but it did make her question what Carmy’s idea of an ‘old acquaintance’ was.

It was probably her third pass by the stove before she was finally able to take in a clear understanding of the Polaroid. She would admit she was surprised, the content of the picture far from anything she would ever equate to Carmen Berzatto.

It was of you and Carmy. The two of you were lying next to each other, whether on a bed or the floor, Sydney couldn’t tell. One of your arms was raised, presumably holding the camera in your hand. Even though the moment was captured in time, Syd could feel the intimacy through the photo, almost making her feel too uncomfortable to even be so intrigued by it.

Syd had seen the smile gracing Carmy’s face once or twice in real-time, something he usually kept to himself. He looked happy lying there next to you, like your being there eased him. She focused on you to find you were focusing on him, your head tilted up a little, eyes gleaming full of love.

You looked at Carmy the way Syd’s dad talked about her mom. Like your entire life was destined to be entangled with Carmy’s.

As Sydney focused on the picture once more, she finally noticed the number written on the white space of the Polaroid. Her only assumption that it must’ve been yours.

Her curiosity had finally gotten the best of her. From the way you two interacted, to the Polaroid she was sure she had taken in every detail of , there was history between you and Carmy.

“Hey uh, can I ask you a question?” She moved to sit at the table where Carmy was prepping pasta. She wasn’t sure whether she should beat around the bush or just outright ask her question.

Carmy raised his head, eyes catching hers before giving a slight nod, Syd took a deep breath. She would consider her and Carmy friends, but she didn’t want him to think she was crossing some line. “Uh what’s the deal between you two,” she said your name for clarification, not yet sure if she was allowed to call you by the nickname so many others did, and not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Carmy froze for a minute, but his recovery was so quick if Syd wasn’t paying attention she wouldn’t have caught it. “It’s just uh, you called her an acquaintance, but I don’t think anybody gets those vibes from you two,” she trailed off not wanting to make Carmy feel pressured.

“I mean you have a shrine to her above your stove.” Carmy’s head snapped up to Syd before looking at the picture above his stove, Syd’s soft laugh signifying her quip as a joke.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled along with her, the weight on his shoulder at the idea of talking about you lessening a bit. “She uh, we were best friends growing up, she lived across the street from us.”

Syd nodded her head waiting for any more details, she wasn’t normally one to pry but Carmy’s explanation sounded like such bullshit compared to the way you two acted around each other. “So you guys like never dated or anything?” Syd’s curiosity caused the question to come across as less casual than she hoped.

“No, no. Just friends,” Carmy nodded eyes still on the pasta doing his best to distract his mind from Sydney’s line of questioning.

“Did you ever like, I dunno want more with her?” Carmy stopped eyes finally meeting Syd’s, he stood there for a moment just taking in her question. Although you once admitted your desire for something more with him, he still hadn’t. And he wasn’t sure if now in his kitchen with Sydney was the right time or place to do it.

But Syd didn’t need him to verbally answer, the look in his eyes told her more than what she had even asked. The two of them were only speaking about you and the longing in Carmy’s soft blue eyes was enough for Sydney to feel like she interrupted a sudden declaration of love.

Sydney cleared her throat, averting her eyes not at all meaning to get into anything too personal. Just a bit curious about the nature of the relationship between you two. “So any ideas on how to make this chaos menu…thoughtful?”

Carmy was grateful for Syd’s diversion of topics. If she had picked up on the tension between the two of you, he was sure the rest of the crew had. And if that meant everyone was privy to the unfinished history between the two of you then neither of you were as sly as you thought.

You lost Hayden somewhere between first entering the store and him wandering off for his necessities. You didn’t mind though, he was nice enough to offer you a ride home and stop by the store as the two of you brainstormed about your respective dinners for the night.

Wandering around on your own in a store you had never been to probably wasn’t the smartest decision you made. Case in point is the fact that you were standing in the alcoholic beverage section trying to fight the urge to peruse through the variety and pick your favorite form of poison.

The sound of your name caught your attention, eyes shooting to Hayden’s impeccably dressed form. You’d be the first to admit maturity had done him good, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up to show off his toned forearms. The top three buttons were undone, his chest giving a preview of what he had to offer.

His lips wrapped around your name again, a slight frown to his brows. He looked around the aisle before his eyes landed back on you with a small smile decorating his lips, “You okay?” You watched as he checked you over, the action irritated you a bit. Was he expecting you to go batshit crazy in the middle of the grocery store and just start hammering away at the countless bottles?

“Fine, just got distracted. I um, I just need some açaí and I’ll be good.” You gave him your best smile hoping it would reassure him, the one he returned ensured just that.

The two of you made your way to the frozen food section, meaningless small talk passing between the two of you.

“I can’t believe you still eat this shit,” you scoffed, quickly grabbing the bag of frozen açaí from the freezer. Closing the door as you made your way back to Hayden the two of you ready to make your leave.

“If I recall, you had no problem eating this in my dorm all those years ago,” the boisterous laugh that escaped Hayden caused a similar one to leave you, neither of you having brought up this topic of conversation since reuniting.

“Had to replenish all that lost stamina somehow,” your eyes widened slightly Hayden’s smirk did nothing to quell the heated feeling spreading through you.

He walked past you, grabbing your hand so you would follow behind him. “What’s got you quiet all of a sudden?” You knew he was teasing you, the tone in his voice bringing a chuckle out of you.

“Just wasn’t sure how well you remembered our college shenanigans.” The shrug of your shoulders was supposed to feign nonchalance, but the wide grin on your face proved the opposite.

The two of you had lost any rush to leave the grocery store, casually walking around hands entwined together. “To forget a girl like you would be criminal,” you faced Hayden nose scrunching up at his words a laugh bubbling out of your lips.

“Didn’t you get married?” Hayden laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulder as the two of you continued around the store aimlessly just enjoying the company of an old friend.

“You didn’t want me the way I wanted you. Had to move on at some point.” The melancholy tone in his voice caused a feeling of guilt to shoot through your heart. You nodded a sad smile gracing your lips, the squeeze on your shoulder helping to alleviate your remorse.

“Listen, Hayden, I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything,” you sighed as you moved to stand in front of him. “It just wasn’t fair of me to commit to a long-term relationship with you when my heart wasn’t in it.” He nodded a smile sent in your direction.

“No, I uh I appreciate it, wouldn’t have married Marlene if you didn’t set me straight,” you smiled happy there was a bright side to this whole situation. “Probably wouldn’t have divorced her either. Hey, should I send you my lawyer fees or.” Hayden trailed off, grin returning to his face as you laughed swatting at his bicep.

All he saw in his head was you. As dramatic as it sounds it felt like the thought of you was keeping him alive, from the way you had all but disappeared when they opened Mikey’s locker. To the photo above his stove that was seared into his brain. So preoccupied with thoughts of you he had missed the aisle he intended to go down three times.

Finding his destination Carmy made his way down the aisle, stopping as he saw you laughing with a man he didn’t recognize. His mind going back to the conversation he had earlier with Sydney, Carmy did want more with you. He wanted a lot more than what the two of you allowed to transpire all these years.

Carmy wanted a life with you, a life where he was the one making you laugh in the grocery store. Where his apartment wasn’t just filled with a, year old photograph of the two of you, but filled with your presence.

He envisioned a life with you, and he wasn’t sure why he had sabotaged every chance you had given him to make that a reality. Carmy continued his journey through the store, thoughts of you played heavily on his mind. It didn’t matter what he wanted though if he never gained the courage to tell you. There was a lot unsaid between the two of you, but you had made your feelings clear. Tried to reconcile whatever relationship the two of you still had left. And the ball was in his court, had been since your impromptu visit last year.

Even when reunited with the girl he had crushed on once upon a time, you were still at the forefront of his mind. The woman in front of him is a cruel reminder of all the ways he messed up with you.

Carmy’s thoughts ran so wild with you as he entertained Claire’s conversation, that he didn’t think twice before giving her a number that had been left on a Polaroid a year ago and now decorated the space above his stove; but not the contact book in his phone.

a/n: it’s here!!! i think this chapter is pretty tame which is kind of out of character lol. thankful to be done with this chapter so i can explore some ideas i’ve been having! thank you all so much for your love and support! please support me in whatever way feels comfortable!!! 💜

tag list: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

[fanfictionstuff]

Ikki Niko x Reader

I wrote this at 4:30am for a friend. It’s almost 6 and I should be sleeping because I have to get up in an hour. But I was worried I’d lose the ideas that popped in my mind while half asleep. With that said, remember I wrote this at 4:30am and I’ve re-read multiple times for mistakes. Might still be some mistakes.

First time writing for a Blue Lock character.

Your good friend has been teasing you for weeks now. “He’s so obviously smitten, everyone can see it but you.” Apparently you had hidden your crush on Ikki pretty good until a few weeks ago when your friend had caught you staring at a photo your shirtless best friend. She locks arms with you as you walk down the school hall. Your friend starts giggling like an idiot. Of course Ikki approaches you in this moment of teasing. He gives a small wave to both you and your friend before addressing you. “_____, I don’t have practice today. So, we can meet at the gate and go to my house.” You nod, while elbowing your friend. You know she’s grinning like a creep. “Okay, l’ll see you after class.” The moment he’s out of sight she squeezes your arm. “Going to his house?” Shoving her off, you snap. “Shut up, you know we go to each other’s house every day after school. We have been since primary school.” Your friend laughs. “Yeah? Well, have you had a crush on him since primary school?” Refusing to make eye contact you push past her snapping ‘shut up’ as you quickly walk to your classroom. Her eyes widen at “Oh wow, I guess he’s not the only one smitten.”

Ikki stares up at his best friend, who is pinning him to the bed, in disbelief, he had been joking. You two were just casually reading manga in his bedroom when he made the comment. “This is annoyingly unrealistic.” He mumbled about a manga everyone has been swearing is exactly like high school life. You had laughed at him. “It probably is realistic, you’re just a loner that stays away from most people.” He scoffed and that’s when he said it. “Okay ____, when you see your crush, just randomly kiss him.” He had been joking. So why are you teasing him like this. His heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest and it hurts. Does this mean you know he is hopelessly in love with you? You don’t have to be so cruel. “Please get off me.”

You stare down at Ikki, his hair has fallen to the side, giving you the chance to stare into his beautiful eyes. “Oh.” His words are like a punch in the gut, but you’re also annoyed. You push yourself off of him. Allowing him to sit up once more. You aren’t sure if you should leave or not, but he just picks up the manga he had been reading, tosses it to the side, and starts reading another. Well, he hasn’t asked you to leave. You don’t move get off the bed, instead, leaning back against the wall once more. I can’t believe I did that. But he told me to kiss my crush. Okay, so maybe you had thought he was hinting he knew he’s your crush. This isn’t fair. Your eyes narrow at the dark haired teen, lifting your left leg you kick him, maybe a tiny bit harder than you should’ve. “Ow! _____, what are you doing?” He grabs his right side and turns to frown at you. “You told me to kiss my crush.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I wasn’t really expecting you to kiss him tomorrow. You didn’t have to tease me.”

Are you kidding me? You sit up straight, grabbing the closest manga to you. Without hesitation you bop him on the head with it. “_____, why are-mmf”

Grabbing the back of his head, you pull him into a kiss. It’s a quick innocent kiss, when you pull away he’s staring at you in disbelief. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re the one that told me to kiss my crush.” You grumble.

He moves quickly, this time you’re the one pinned to the bed, by your shoulders. “You like me?” He whispers, his face mere centimeters from yours.

“So you can pin me down but I can’t pin you?” You purse lips. “I never thought you’d be so dominate.”

He squeezes your shoulders. “You like me?” He questions again, louder.

“Love.”

“Since when?”

“Remember that time I punched that girl for trying to bully you, and you told me you’d marry me after high school?”

“When we were seven?”

“Yeah, so eight years.”

Humor fills Ikki’s eyes, “I’ve got you beat by two years. I told you that I loved you the day we met.”

You laugh, lifting your hands to pinch his waist. “Does that count?”

“Yes, because I never stopped.” His hands move to either side of your head as he leans down, pressing his warm lips against yours.

[amysubmits]

I’ve just spent about half an hour reading and re-reading your “Owning me is complicated” post. Reading this from a sub’s perspective is so helpful to a Dom. I often feel like I have to be perfect and never make a mistake with my sub. Often I feel like making a mistake would sabotage our relationship because I wouldn’t be living up to her expectations or standards. It’s heartwarming to read your thoughts about your Dom and the struggles that occur in His mind. We try to lead with confidence and assuredness and we want that to exude daily so that the sub is naturally “comfortable” in following and submitting. The truth is, we don’t ALWAYS know the answer. We don’t ALWAYS have it figured out. Trust and honor is a delicate strand that we try not to break. Her submission is the most beautiful gift she can give me but knowing she looks at me and thinks of me as her everything is even more. Never wanting to let her down is always a part of my mindset. I try to earn her submission and trust every day, not by my words but through my actions. It’s beautiful to know that there are subs that think and acknowledge the things you described in your writing. Thank you. Thank you for shining a light that says “True Doms will always have a sub’s best interest at heart.” Such a beautiful post. Thank you for sharing.

Thank you so much for this thoughtful message!

It feel like the nuance involved with D/s often gets lost on tumblr. There isn't really a good way to say in a short snippet or meme that on one hand, most subs are really drawn to confidence and confidence can feel like a key part of being a dom in some ways. And yet..doms are human and should have room to make mistakes. And while confidence can assist dominance a lot, it can also be a huge liability or threat to the D/s relationship if someone in the Dom role acts confident when they aren't informed. I guess in other words, confidence is great, but it's not realistic for doms to always be confident in everything...and arrogance is dangerous. Sometimes a dom not knowing exactly what to do and just having a nice discussion ith their sub about what they are thinking and even gaining additional insight or information from their sub to help make a decision can be a really bonding, D/s-feeling, lovely thing. And it's easy to miss that nuance if you go looking at memes or shortform content that talk about how confidence is key to being a dom or whatever. Or erotica that portrays dominance as practically being an all knowing, all confident god-like creature. Finding it hot as a fantasy I get for sure, but it's so important to differentiate between fantasy and real relationships and that difference isn't always clear on here. Similar with earning submission. I get why there is a lot of content that talks about the importance of earning trust and submission. There are so many doofuses out there who think they should just command a sub into compliance without earning submission and those are some really dangerous people. At the same time...it's easy for me to grasp why a well-meaning dom might think if they make a mistake then that means they have temporarily 'lost' submission or failed to earn it that day or something - and it's not necessarily like that. I try to always remember that my dom is human and will get it wrong sometimes. I don't expect perfection. More than anything else it's just the fact that he really wants to be cautious and take good care of me and of our relationship...that he's always looking to learn from his mistakes and to grow as a person and as my partner... that allows him to earn my submission more so than how 'right' he gets it. It's the way he is motivated to act in ways that align with his moral compass and character that really get me submissive the most. Anyway, thanks again for your message, it was really heartwarming to read!

[sentinel-babes]

I just rewatched Carol 9ish years after the first time I saw it and it was good! I genuinely couldn’t remember any details about how I felt the first time, so I’m glad it held up and was still enjoyable.

I rewatched it because I just finished reading The Price of Salt for the first time. I really enjoyed reading the book. I definitely feel like I got way more out of the movie the second go around. Of course you really get to see Therese’s character development in the book on a deeper level, but that’s just a normal book/movie adaptation critique. They have so much less time etc etc.

Maybe this is a hot take but I didn’t think the score did anything for the film. But I feel like I have a hard time articulating what a “better” score would be. I just don’t feel like it added to the emotions of the characters. It felt kinda generic.

One of my FAVorite things about soundtracks is when you can listen back and tell EXACtly what’s happening just through the way the music sounds. You can re-live the story simply by just listening to the soundtrack. Like this part just SOUNDS like betrayal. I feel like the Carol soundtrack does not pass that test.

And I don’t mean that the soundtrack should necessarily be front and center, over the top, or anything like that. A subtle soundtrack can still pass that test.

I definitely don’t think the Carol soundtrack should be as melodramatic as this example but think about the Vivaldi song from POALOF and how much it transformed the scene of two women staring at each other.

Like something that dramatic would have been too much for Carol, but just a little more excitement would have gone so far.

Especially coming straight from the book where Therese’s internal monologue is so dramatic and full of intense emotion all the time. It really contrasts how the characters act stoic and refined on the outside to fit in with 50s societal norms. The same thing happens in the movie where these characters that feel really intense emotions for one another have to act stoic and restrained in public. I feel like more interesting music could have really enhanced a lot of the scenes the characters were feeling, but instead felt like a missed opportunity.

Especially the last scene where Therese decides to change her mind and go find Carol. This was one of my favorite parts of the book. Hearing her internal monologue fight with herself as she decides to go her own way. Then heads to the party where she imagines Carol walking into the room and her looking over to see her. And Therese’s journey of agency and self discovery culminates in her realizing that she doesn’t have to passively sit by and wait for Carol to come rescue her from this situation. She can take the agency to go get what she wants. So she leaves the party to go find Carol not because Carol asked, but because She wants to!!

So she runs to the party and rushes inside and scans the room - and sees her. And they lock eyes. BOOM end of the movie.

And the soundtrack is sleepy and slow!!

Such an intense character moment, that I feel like could have benefited from a stronger score.

Another example I can think of is when Carol confronts the detective.

The soft dreamyness the soundtrack kinda works for the first half of the movie, but I think it should have grown into something as the stakes were raised for the latter half.

Anyway I don’t know what I’m talking about but I just wanted to write some thoughts down.

[kellenhathspoken]

My French teachers and professor throughout the years have been completely whacky and insanely interesting. As a French tutor now, I feel I owe it to them for not only teaching me my second language but also inspiring me to teach it. From kindergarten to college, let’s break down each and every one of those profs dingues:

Kindergarten: Madame Olga

All I remember about Madame Olga is that she was Russian and had a bob! My sister tells me that when the Catholic school we went to didn’t have a gym teacher for a couple of years for whatever reason, Madame Olga was the stand-in PE teacher, and apparently gym class with Madame Olga (even as a gym teacher she was referred to as Madame!) involved her reading aloud from an outdated textbook on how to play sports and do simple exercises such as jumping jacks! Incroyable ! I remember learning the word “fromage” from one of Madame Olga’s weekly classes and finding the word hilarious; I remember being a little kid in the grocery store with my mom, and as we passed by the cheese aisle, I’d yell, “Le fromage !” Finding French funny was formative (pardon the alliteration) and cemented a lot of vocabulary in my brain.

Grade school: self-taught (lol)

I don’t remember having a French teacher for the rest of grade school. I do remember being a troublemaker, however! I couldn’t stop laughing in class and I often made other kids laugh too. I couldn’t help it, everything can be so funny! I remember being the designated class clown and getting sent out of the classroom to sit in the hallway due to talking and laughing too much. What a ridiculous punishment! It didn’t really teach me anything except to talk more quietly (I’ve never been a good whisperer) and sneakily to avoid punishment. In retrospect, those teachers should have encouraged me to write down what I had to say; I was aching to express myself but didn’t know how to do it appropriately! It wasn’t until middle school when I learned the appropriate time and place to talk and laugh and make others laugh. Then I had a few teachers who encouraged me to write instead of sending me out into the hallway. Even when those Catholic grade-school teachers sent me out into the hallway, I still found a way to laugh — alone, to boot, like a true maniac!

Re: French, I remember teaching myself with a “French for Dummies” book. I was obsessed with French and France. There’s a scene in the Suspiria remake that resonated with me: young Suzie Bannion circling Berlin on a map during a lesson — all she can think about is Berlin while having no idea why. She then gets into trouble for disregarding the lesson but can’t help but still think about Berlin. That’s how I felt about France as a kid. I was a weird kid.

Middle school: Madame S.

This French teacher was iconique. She had a bob like Madame Olga but a striking aquiline nose that I loved to stare at. I’ve always been fond of big noses. They’re so elegant, like a toucan’s colorful beak! Madame S. was also obsessed with France; our French classes consisted of half-language, half-culture, which was such a delight! La bise has always been an interesting cultural practice; everyone gets a kiss! Tu vs. Vous is a fun way to distinguish a friend from a rando! Saying “Bonjour” before saying anything else to a worker when entering a store? So very clearly polite for everyone involved! I felt special in Madame S.’s classes because she’d pick me to demonstrate to the class how to pronounce words. “It’s ‘question,’ not ‘question!’” I remember getting into Yelle around this time because when I was acting in plays at the local community theater, one of my high-school directors knew I was a young Francophile and recommended them to me. I discovered later that their song “Je veux te voir” was egregiously vulgar for a middle schooler to listen to! I survived nonetheless.

High school: Monsieur E.

Such an intense ex-military translator who spoke French, Spanish and Arabic! Super type A and anal. My god, that dude needed a Xanax. I remember he’d tell us stories about his time in the military during Desert Storm. At the time I didn’t care, but in retrospect I bet they were interesting stories, especially as a translator. He respected me and eventually encouraged me to do French independent study and then dual enrollment at the local community college, which I did! He also told me once that “the grammatical gender of genitals in French is never what you’d expect it to be.” He was right! The French have “le vagin” and “la bite”… How queer!

College: Madame D.

Such a fascinating, complex, intense friendship I had with Madame D. After dual enrolling in three of her courses in high school (two or all three were taught entirely in French; no English was allowed! My throat always hurt after those classes), I became very close with Madame D. She appointed me the president of her French club, she encouraged me to tutor my classmates in French, she gave me French New Wave recommendations (she showed me The 400 Blows and Zazie dans le métro, two fabulous movies that I still love!), and eventually we’d go out to get coffee, lunch and dinner together. Then we’d watch movies at her house, and she’d make me delicious Belgian food and pour me glasses upon glasses of Belgian beer and French wine, and we even smoked weed together one time. In the two years I knew her, it was intense from the very beginning, until I moved to Detroit and cut her from my life temporarily after she tried to make a move on me in a movie theater when we went to see The Disaster Artist (I still can’t rewatch that movie lol). I do think about her from time to time and how lonely we both were at the time. We sometimes text each other on WhatsApp but I have recently tended not to respond. I hope she’s OK. Overall, I think French is a language where it’s incredibly easy to accidentally say something perverted and/or sexual, therefore leading to lots of laughter and embarrassing moments. Whenever I speak French, my mouth feels like it’s making out with someone endowed (or cursed) with a long tongue — long enough to caress my uvula with it! Ew!

All in all, I’ve had some absolute freaks as French teachers! Each was more uniquely bizarre than the last, but none deterred me too much from continuing to learn this silly language. Beyond French, I’ve studied Spanish, German, some Russian, a little Portuguese, and a tiny bit of Italian. I would love to learn Arabic and Mandarin and Japanese and Catalan. And Greek! Ancient Greek! I ❤️ languages.

[katapunberbicara]

I don’t think we will have any conversations, until

I wake up with mixed up feelings. I had a dream last night, but it seems that the dream slowly fades as my consciousness coming. So I grab my notebook and try to write this down before it has completely forgotten. Something clear that I still remember is I was crying in my dream, meeting someone from the past I haven’t hear the news for years. But I still hope that he is doing fine, because he is a kind person and all I know about him is his kindness. He is always kind regardless of what situation he is in.

Some of you may think ‘kind’ is only a standard quality, but for me at such age, the word of kindness is a strong word. It is hard to maintain to be always good in some days you feel your world has fallen to. And it is hard to be always kind to others in some days you feel your day is blue and the world seems to avoid you. Your act and your words may unintentionally hurt people around. Meanwhile the world we are living in really needs many kinds of person like him.

He is kind to whoever. Rather than driven by certain ‘whys but the duty as human to humanize people. He is kind without intention. His genuineness and pureness really come from heart. I don’t know whether it is only me who is romanticizing or I am such good to read people and their intention, but I can feel it. As what comes from heart would touch the heart. This kindness has touched my heart.

And after several years not hearing the news from him, eventually I have heard good news coming. It is a relief that he has found his chosen one, his soon to be other half. He is such a kind person and I hope he has found another kindhearted person he deserve. But at that time, I have no time to really think about it as the world goes and by at rush. It is just a slight good news from my past colleague.

Until yesterday, I eventually dreamt of him in certain occasion. We had conversations and he explained everything I needed to know. Dream is always strange and hard to explain, but it is very strange that he was coming into my dream at this such time. During these passing days, there are many things I should prioritize to think of instead my personal feelings. The latest news may weight my mind unconsciously that much or deep inside I may think we would never have conversations, so I want to meet him once again?

Thus after years of disconnection, we suddenly met through the dream, having intense conversations. Questions yet to be answered then had found the answers. I don’t really remember what exactly every conversation we had, but what I clearly remembered the context of it was a farewell. I saw myself shed the tears several times realizing there was no way to make it work. But I saw myself fully accepted to let go of things that shouldn’t stay.

When waking up, I am such surprised since it is really a strange thing to dream of him. But at the other side, I do feel relieved with this opportunity. Our path hasn’t crossed anymore so I don’t think we will have any conversations in real life, but luckily, myself has had the words of affirming through this whimsical dream.

When writing this down, I rather feel dejavu since it has typical storyline with the past story I ever wrote with fictional character (now I re-read again to those stories, which entitled a garden of sunflower, a sequel from a sunny day on Sunday of May that may turn out to be rain). Maybe it is the time I am being the character of my own story. Or maybe I am way too immersed to the character I have ever made. I still don’t know what the dream does mean, but by writing this down, I want to give it a meaning.

Central Jakarta, 27th January 2024 | ©Hairatunnisa

[estellamiraiauthor]

The Stars May Rise and Fall: The Annotated Re-read (Chapter 12)

Alright, folks. Chapter 12. Not quite sure why my brain picked THIS particular point to have the mental block, but I’m well aware we’re coming up on 14 and 15, which were hell to write. This one shouldn’t be so horrible in and of itself, though, so let’s dive back in to More Information About My Book Than Anyone Ever Asked For! (Spoilers under the cut)

So, I actually like the opening here, where it’s been three and a half days and Rei STILL hasn’t replied, and Teru’s STILL hoping and thinking it might be him every time his phone rings. In other news, I really don’t miss dating at all.

I’m not quite sure about Minori’s wisdom here wanting to cut a demo on the same night the new drummer’s auditioning. Are they going to get the new guy to play on the demo? Were they planning to have Teru do it? Or synthesize it or what? I have no clue. I think it just felt like, plot wise, both of these things needed to be happening around now. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, though. Sorry.

Anyway, now it’s Teru’s turn to act like he’s angry at Rei when he’s really probably just mad at himself. After a bit of internal angsting, he drafts and re-drafts this overly polite email pretending he really just wants to come over to get some sheet music. GOD, I really do not miss dating at all. I used to do this crap ALL the time… like, if you’re upfront about being interested is it going to come off as desperate? So better come up with some REASON for emailing, right? Except it can’t be TOO good a reason or the other person will read it as NOT interested. BLEH. Poor Teru. This particular relationship stage REALLY SUCKS.

Fun flashback here to old cell phones that had a little blinking light on top that would let you know if you had a missed call or message. Of course, Teru DOESN’T when he gets off work because of course Rei has remembered when he gets off and is going to time his call perfectly with that.

OK, now I really need to address the line where maybe I fucked up the most… I dunno, I got a really harsh review about this line, and while I don’t really agree with the reviewer’s logic that All Instances of Subconscious Ableism Should Be Called Out Directly On the Page, I would 100% change the line if I had it to do over again, because it didn’t really say what I was trying to say.

So Teru is walking to Rei’s apartment from the station, and wondering why this trip has come to feel so routine, and why he feels comfortable hanging out at Rei’s apartment when he’s never really invited romantic partners over to his place or been invited to theirs before. (This is definitely a Japan thing by the way, it’s much less usual to go over to someone’s house here until you’re REALLY serious.)

And he thinks to himself:

Was it because Rei couldn’t leave? But he’d seen Teru play. He’d been at the studio. Just because he acted like an invalid most of the time didn’t mean he really was one.

So, I fucked up with this line, and I apologize. I did not know what the word “invalid” meant. I thought it meant “housebound” or maybe even “bedbound”. It actually does not… it’s kind of an old-fashioned and icky word period, but it just means disabled. Which Rei clearly is. Which Teru definitely knows. And what I was TRYING to say here was that Teru did not feel more comfortable at Rei’s house because going out was more physically complicated than it would have been with previous partners, but because he’s genuinely falling in love. I clearly fucked this up, however, and this will obviously also not be in that hypothetical anime. (Note to writers: Look up any and all words before you use them.)

Anyway. Teru does show up, Rei gives him the music, but then asks him not to go to rehearsal, but to stay. I think he’s been working up the courage to do this for four  days now, and ESPECIALLY since Teru sent that email. Even though he’s still conflicted about “betraying” Saki, he’s spent that time trying to convince himself that Saki would want him to be happy, that there’s no harm in just taking Teru to dinner… so Rei screws up all the courage he has and makes this somewhat awkward but really sweet (in my very biased opinion) invitation.

Rei’s usual blue wig is a tangled mess, so he wears this greyish-lavender wig here that I REALLY want some art of. Here’s another regret: I had a character who could literally have a completely different hair color in every scene, and I did not use that NEARLY as much as I should have. But for their first real date, he’s wearing a different wig, and if anyone would draw that for me I’d love you forever.

And Teru suggests they go to Shibuya… this is kind of an inside-joke thing that maybe seems a little contrived. It makes SENSE that Teru wouldn’t be familiar with Rei’s posh neighborhood, but especially since they don’t end up going to a restaurant he’s ever been to before anyway, it might seem a little silly that I had them get on the train, but the first reason for this was that AGES ago, in 2005 when I wrote the first draft of this scene, I had a friend who was writing a series of real-person fanfics about visual kei musicians hooking up in love hotels in a specific part of Shibuya, where there are just a lot of them congregated into one area. We called it “love hotel hill”. I have no idea what anyone else called/calls it. But I knew they were going to end up at a love hotel at the end of the night and I wanted them in a hotel on that hill as a little nod to my friend’s fanfics.

The second reason was that it gave Teru (always sweet and considerate) a chance to suggest taking a cab, and Rei (always weirdly stubborn according to rules that make sense to him but no one else) a chance to refuse. “No one takes a taxi from Meguro to Shibuya,” he says, and that’s probably not REALLY true… rich businessmen who think public transportation is beneath them certainly do. But I think the point here is that Rei just really wants to be “normal”. And to him, before the accident, the “normal” thing would have been to take the train, so he’s determined to do that here.

And then when they actually get to the restaurant, which is on the ninth floor, Teru kind of hesitates before calling the elevator, thinking Rei is going to insist on taking the stairs, but Rei says “no one takes the stairs to the ninth floor”—again, determined to be his version of “normal”. This comes up again in the next chapter too… I think he just has this very very strict mental definition of who he is as a person, and he’s not willing (at this point) to change that, despite the fact that his body has changed.

(Yes, I know this is WARPED and UNHEALTHY. This is a fucking PHANTOM RETELLING. Does anyone think the normal, healthy reaction to being born disfigured is “build  a torture chamber in the basement of the Paris Opera and drop a chandelier on the audience when the singer you don’t like goes onstage”? No? Then can we please, please accept that I was TRYING TO WRITE A CHARACTER WHO IS MENTALLY ILL AND SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? THAT WAS THE LITERAL POINT.)

*Sigh* So maybe I was just putting this off because so much of what people don’t like about these characters at this point in time was THE EXACT POINT I WAS TRYING TO MAKE and also kind of a little personal?

[marley-manson]

Finally rewatched GFA and lmao I wildly overestimated how much screen time was dedicated to BJ and Hawkeye’s relationship, oops. I think it’s bc 90% of what they did get was dysfunctional, and they got the Final Goodbye of Greatest Emotional Importance, so it stuck out in my mind.

This time around I still loved Hawkeye’s plot for the most part. Had my take that once he remembers he’s fine talking about it confirmed with the casual way he asks if it’s couch time when Sidney approaches during his letter-writing, as well as him bringing it up later on multiple times, jokingly and not jokingly with Sidney. His reluctance to talk about the bus and his deflection was clearly intended to be a major Something’s Really Wrong Here signal, satisfyingly righted after the revelation with his more casual, in-character willingness to admit to and talk about his mental breakdown.

I am not a huge fan of Sidney’s method of throwing people back into the traumatic war zone asap lmao, I actually misremembered that as the army’s doing, but nope it’s Sidney. I know that’s the psychological theory they’re working with so I take it in the spirit intended, but thematically it kinda sucks and uhhhhh Hawkeye quits surgery anyway so they failed to make it seem successful even if he did operate a few times first.

BJ really is a mess of a character lol, I honestly have no idea what they were doing with him in the finale other than scrambling to find something for him to do, and like half of what he does is let Hawkeye down one last time. Also the reason BJ didn’t leave a note is because he chose to be pressed for time so he could land in San Francisco instead of Seattle, which was Klinger’s first suggestion for his travel itinerary. Plus his refusal to say goodbye functionally states the reason he didn’t leave a note, ie his emotional constipation, which is a very pointed flaw in this episode especially so I don’t think having more time would’ve made a difference.

Also relatedly BJ’s “I just thought there might be something we wanted to say to each other” came across even worse this time around because Hawkeye’s “Look, I know how tough it is for you to say goodbye, so I’ll say it,” calls back to it. It really genuinely was BJ demonstrating his inability to emotionally connect with Hawkeye without Hawkeye doing it first and wanting Hawkeye to read his mind and offer a heartfelt outpouring of emotion without knowing he’s leaving and while in a cell in a mental hospital and right after BJ, who should have more sense than to talk about babies in front of him since he was purportedly on that bus too, triggered him. Evil evil scene for BJ. Also probably my favourite scene in the ep, because I love Hawkeye’s rant so much.

“Would you hold me in your arms or would you let me lie there and bleed?” still works as a commentary on their whole dynamic, but lmao it really does come completely out of left field in the scene itself, Hawkeye went from 0 to 100 in like 2 seconds. It makes sense as an extension of the way BJ left the hospital and then left without a note too, as Hawkeye expressing how he feels about that after stewing for a while, but yeah the actual scene still made me go ‘well that escalated quickly.’ And BJ’s “you don’t even have a cold” response, just totally and probably willfully missing the point, gj guy.

BJ getting drunk and joking about running off with someone during the goodbye party is a bizarre choice lol, and I can see why people want to take it as an oblique confession re Hawkeye because at least it’s meaningful that way and not just making BJ’s scene there a dumb awkward joke. The other way it’s meaningful is if it’s a Sign of BJ’s impending domestic doom ofc, though I’m on the fence about intent there.

Hawkeye’s “I can’t say I loved you all either... but I loved as many of you as I could,” is such a good Hawkeye summation lol, in the jokey, flirty way intended, in the non-gendered way that’s probably unintended, and in a true-on-a-deeper-level way too.

Soon Lee was disappointing honestly. I thought she might have more personality here than in the last ep, but nah. The only moment she had where she showed any kind of personality was her line about wanting to see Klinger in a dress. That was a great joke though lol. I’m curious what she’s like in AfterMASH, but not enough to watch any of it. I do love Klinger staying in Korea for the irony, and I LOVE that it really is the same wedding dress from season 3.

Charles and Margaret were more entertaining than I remembered, I really enjoyed them rehashing old arguments here. I totally forgot that Margaret mentioned wanting to work in a stateside hospital at the very start of the episode before getting all the letters from her father. Definitely doubling down on my belief that she’s not retiring from the military at all, but rather just working at a military hospital. Love her speech to the nurses best.

Mixed feelings on the Charles and musicians plot. It’s fitting, but perhaps not solely in the way intended lol, in that it’s always always always Charles finding sympathy and attachment to someone only after they appeal to one of his pet interests or the sympathies he already has. He really doesn’t change that much - he gets friendlier with some of the other characters, and he reveals more complex and endearing sides of himself, but he doesn’t really grow lol, and once you notice that he only ever starts to care after he projects his interests on someone those moments get a little less endearing. I think he’s still a fantastically written, fun, and genuinely pretty interesting character, but he never quite achieves likeability on a personal level. But hey, maybe that is intended.

Mulcahy’s plot was honestly a little annoying lol, like, dude you made it worse by refusing medical help and keeping it a secret for the sake of like... one more week with the orphans? I do think it was appropriate that he managed to keep his hearing loss hidden though, because it mirrors the way he tended to miss jokes and references throughout the show, and I dig that angle. Also I love his little crisis of faith and the implication that there is no greater purpose or reason, shit just happens in a war zone.

What else... idk lightning round:

- loved everyone cheering for Hawkeye after he drives the tank to the garbage heap except everyone who was in the OR with him who are all concerned.

- also loved Hawkeye driving a tank into a garbage pile just as a piece of symbolism

- love everyone going back to work after peace is declared, that just sums up the show right there, perfect note

- still fucking hate that salute for Potter. it’s fitting, I understand why it’s there, it’s the most appropriate goodbye for Potter, I still hate it.

- that said I do love the like, 20 minutes worth of goodbyes lol. it honestly worked great, pacing, order, each individual exchange, the goodbye party speeches, all pretty damn solid.

- I did not remember that BJ got that motorcycle bc he just took it when the Chinese musicians surrendered lmao. love him driving Hawkeye up to the helicopter pad in it though as a call back to Yalu Brick Road and Blood and Guts w/ Hawkeye acquiescing for once.

- I think it was a mistake to include the forest fire. I know it happened irl, hence why they incorporated it, but like it adds absolutely nothing but an awkward continuity error where it switches from night to afternoon even though they should’ve been bugging out before that, and a melancholy moment where Potter looks at the burned up support poles, which sucks because that’s not a fond home for them. Like come on, if the 4077 burned down in season 3 the MCs would’ve roasted hot dogs over the coals. Also the military march verson of the theme playing during the bug out scene... yeesh.

- but yeah overall solid finale, pretty much what you need after 11 seasons, gj everyone.

[thigholstercas]

March & April

hi :) I don't know where this two months went but here are some more fics I read (and a cute little banner). as I said in the last one, this list includes drabbles or ficlets, even poems, that I read here because fic writers should also be praised when they only write a couple of lines. on another note, you should go throughout the deancaspinefest fics and the deancasreversebang fics, and spnpoetryrenaissance, I listed some here, but you should take a look to the others. remember to give kudos, leave comments or just let fic writers know you love their work. it's a long list so it'll be under the cut

the coffee kissing crisis (4.6k, GA) by FallenAngelOfThursday @pointyearedelvishprincling

I’m just gonna share what I thought the second I finished it (yeah I took note off that)

Aoife!!!! They are dumbasses but they really love each other. The last paragraph...THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER READ. Dean is sleepy and kisses Cas after he gives him coffee. Some time later he freaks out. Cas talks to the bees 🐝 ♥. (Honestly just read everything Aoife has written )

sequitur (23.4k, E) by butterflyslinky

The pain...of Dean grieving...is horribly good. They changed the ending (you’ll understand when you read it). Freaking good!!! Cas is also awkward during sex, is so cute.

The Legend of the White Light (50k, E) by EllenOfOz

Purgatory my beloved <3 I literally read the first chapter and my first thought was "this is so fucking cool". Cas and Dean's pov. For me the first half is the best (purgatory) and then is mostly in canon for all season 8, up to the crypt scene. I'd read this again just for purgatory.

heal me with (3k, T) by ilovehowyouletmefall

Cas comes back from the Empty during the call from 15x19, but he's dying. Dean's soul reaches for him. So nice. Sam getting angry at Cas is so funny for me personally.

Samson went back to bed (9.7k) by piesexuality @twoheadedcas

Look I probably wouldn’t read it again because I swear I cried a lot, but at the same time it was so good. Cas is a selfish bastard and erases everyone's memories about Mary. No kidding, so fucking freaking painful but good. (art from @citruscas for it)

Desideratum and other mishaps (28k, T) by thefandomsinhalor

I thought that it was so sweet. Instead of Dean using the pear, Jack uses it and let´s just say things don’t go as planned. Sam is the bitchy brother. Cas is a dad!!!! Dean is a dad too!!! 

with this stab I thee wed (9k,T) by TheSilverQueen

Adore how it is written. It starts the moment Cas is fighting demons to rescue dean from hell, it ends with them married, really nice.

What's already mine (2.1k, T) by elephantsinthestars @blanketforcas

I swear I’m not putting this one here because I love her. This is just really beautiful. Cas learns to love his body and something something about loving yourself first before being with someone else.

the closer the star, the greater the parallax (8.7k, E) by kettleknight

Cas shows and explains to Dean how he rescued him from hell. I don’t know how to explain how much this fic changed me as person..

Okay, you should also read some of these:

divine by @bixlasagna

nothing but this by @buglovescas

castiel’s guide to loving a human by @redleavesinthewind

Dean x Cas: a prayer for a prayer by @faithdeans

Dean overthinking “[...] the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you" by @mishacollinsthighsss

about a boy by @universalcas  

cas trails his fingers across dean’s chest by @angelscas

To Dean Winchester, 1995 (tw sexual abuse) by @jactingjoices

my faith is shaken, but I still believe by @interrogatethecat (last minute addition)

I re-read these ones and I think they deserve to be here:

The Mantra (3k, GA) by amirosebooks

“You're safe, you're home, I got you”, this one is so soft, is pretty much about Cas and Dean taking care of each other.

Damn You Auto Correct! (8.3k, E) by Chiyume

Porn without plot but I like it, Dean can´t talk cuz’ he's sick. 

What to do when a good man hurts you (8k, T) by @fellshish

Dean thinks that the way he'll stop the empty for taking Cas is telling him he hates him and every bad thing he can think. Turns out it doesn't work...angst okay a lot of angst. But there´s a happy ending.

Alright this is already too long, I read so much more, but I can’t put them all here, anyway give all your love to writers <3

[wolfanddragon98]

These college horror stories are crazy! 

I remember I had a pretty scary uni experience in my last year of MA. Basically we had an exam session that we had to pass in order to actually partake in the finals. There were about 80 students in my year and we were split into 4 smaller groups. There were two professors and supposedly they both used the same materials that were going to be heavily incorporated in the exam. They reassured us all the time that as long as we studied the material that we covered in the classes, we shouldn’t worry. As long as we get 60% we will be fine. 

Lo and behold, I write the exam and the next day we get the results. My heart sank to the ground when I noticed that I got 58%. I was one mark away from passing. I almost had a panic attack but then I read the contents of the message that was pinned with the results and apparently they lowered the percentage to 55% because if they hadn’t then majority of the class wouldn’t have passed. On one hand, I was grateful that they did that, but on the other hand I was fuming on the inside because one of the professors wrote that it’s ridiculous that so many people failed or almost failed and that we should be really embarrassed. 

Then we come to find out that the materials that the both professors used were totally different. Now I understood why I only got 58%. Half of the things that appeared in the exam, were not even mentioned in our classes. Those who had to re-take the exam were furious and started talking smack about the professors in the private chat on facebook. They mainly talked about how disorganised they were, and how it was their fucking responsibility to teach us these things. They also planned to write a complaint to the higher ups, because the professor that they had was apparently very disrespectful to them in the class. A part of me really wanted to join in on the conversation, but I restrained myself, because I figured that nothing good would come out of it. Thank fucking god that I didn’t write anything. 

The next day one of the girls who talked shit sent us an screenshot of an email that she got from the professor himself. Apparently someone in the group chat, took screenshots from the private facebook group conversation and sent them to the professor. He was very passive aggressive in his email, told her that for all he cares she can write a complaint and that while he was there to teach them it was not his ‘fucking responsibility’ to teach them basic things that they should have known already. He supposedly sent this email to everyone who participated in the chat. In that moment I was very glad that I decided to keep my mouth shut, because from what I heard, those who complained about him, failed the re-take exam and consequently failed the year. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence that most of them failed or if the professor failed them deliberately. :/ 

P.S When I did my last finals, I got 86% in the end, but that’s only because they actually made sure that we would all have the same materials this time around. Now, was that so hard? XD

[mypoisonedvine]

The Kind of Girl You Take Home to Mom (part 3 - FINALE) | Andy Barber x reader

(part 1) (part 2)

summary: andy knows how to take what he wants, and he wants you.

word count: 5.6k 

warnings: SMUT, subtle dubcon elements, loss of virginity, infidelity (obviously), wedding ring kink (shocking!!! jk), 

a/n: wow, after all this time I FINALLY finished this series.  sorry it took so long.  I still have an alternate ending that I want to write... but I wanted to go ahead and get this out first.  thank you everyone for your patience!  I kind of expect this to flop despite being the most requested thing ever, but idgaf.

“Honestly?  I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends.”

For the second time that day, you choked.

“Wh— are you okay?” Jacob gasped, running over to you as you coughed up water.

Your attempt to respond was useless as you could only sputter and cough, trying to communicate that you were fine with a casual wave, but only managing to flail your arm wildly.

“Was it something I said?” he pressed.

“No, I just—” you wheezed, but interrupted yourself with another coughing fit as your eyes watered from the lack of air.

He slapped your back to try to help you along but it wasn’t very effective, just adding one new source of pain to your predicament.  I always had this weird fear that he was going to try to seduce one of my girlfriends, that was what he’d said.  What does that even mean?  Did he mean it like “I always had this fear, for no good reason,” or did he mean it like “I was always afraid of this, and now it’s come true”?

The way Jacob was looking at you— kind, concerned, patient— it didn’t seem like he suspected you of anything.  He probably would’ve led with that if he knew something, right?

When your airways finally cleared and you were able to start catching your breath, you finished getting ready for bed quickly and hopped into bed.  You couldn’t handle any long conversations with Jacob, though you tolerated some cuddling before you fell asleep.

You dreamt that night that you were drowning.  Andy was holding you, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he pulled you to shore.  Or was he pulling you under?  Either way, you figured you’d had enough water in your lungs for one day.

~

You probably should’ve let them win at Scrabble… you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I have…” Jacob trailed off as he counted in his head, “177 points.”

“209,” Laurie announced, reaching over to rub Jacob on the shoulder sympathetically.  “Sorry, honey.”

“384,” Andy grinned, setting down his pen and pad triumphantly and looking to you for your score.

“Um,” you stalled, almost embarrassed to say now.  “I got, uh, 559.”

Laurie and Jacob erupted into sputters of confusion, demanding that you recount your points as if they hadn’t all seen you play ‘quixotic’ on a triple word space.

“Good game,” Andy murmured with a soft smirk as he stood up and left the table.  You smiled back at him quickly, the other two too busy recounting the numbers on your pad to even notice.

So, that was the end of board games for the night.  Jacob suggested a movie but you just knew that would just be you and him cuddling under one blanket… while Laurie and Andy cuddled under another.  You weren’t sure you could take that.  Instead, you decided to read your book outside— even though you figured Laurie was disappointed you didn’t want to do anything more social.  Complimenting her beautifully landscaped backyard eased the blow, though.

It was hard to get comfortable on the patio couch, not because of the couch itself but because you knew it wouldn’t be long until somebody bothered you.  When you heard the door open, you were a little disappointed to see Jacob approaching you.

“Hey,” he smiled, sliding in next to you on the couch and wrapping an arm around you.  

“Hey,” you greeted in reply, slightly flat in your affect as you immediately dove back into your book.

“You’re feeling okay, right?  We could go for a drive if you need some space,” he offered, rubbing your shoulder gently.

“No, I’m alright,” you mumbled.  “You know me, I like my peace and quiet when I can get it.”

“You… like them, don’t you?”  He must’ve sensed that you didn’t understand what he was referring to at first.  “My family, I mean.”

“Oh!  Yeah, that’s not the issue, really.  I know we’re going back home tomorrow but I still need to decompress a little bit.  I’ll be more social tonight, promise.”

When you looked up at him, his face was closer than you’d anticipated.  It reminded you of when you two met, at a party where the music was so loud that you’d had to stand about this close to be able to carry a conversation.  Well, technically that wasn’t the first time you met, because you had him in one of your classes that semester, but it was the first time you’d talked.  He was fun, he was new, he was friendly.  I can’t stay long, I’ve got a test in the morning, you’d yelled your explanation.  You’re gonna ace it anyway, he had dismissed at the time, so you should stay and have fun!  You deserve to have fun.

Maybe that was what had made you attracted to him: you couldn’t think of anyone else who had been so worried about what you deserved.  But now, Andy was added to that list.  You hated to imagine that Jacob had inherited that nature from his father.  Is he treating you right? Andy has asked you that night, and you really weren’t sure even now what the answer was.  He certainly wasn’t treating you poorly, but was that enough?  

Back in reality (and not in your whizzing, anxiety-ridden thoughts), Jacob leaned in and kissed you softly.  The kiss was just like him: patient, gentle, but also somehow energetic.  It was… nice.  Comfortable.  Feeling a surge of boldness, you set your book aside and leaned into him, pushing the kiss a little deeper.

He let out a tiny little noise, nearly a moan, as your tongues began to slide together.  His hand reached up to cradle the back of your head— you remembered that he did that a lot when you were making out, but all those times felt so foreign now.  Your hands reached up to rub against his chest through his t-shirt; that dark maroon one he wore all the time, so much that it was forming a few holes at the hem.  His hand slid down to your back and—

“Am I interrupting something?” Andy’s voice tore you both from the moment and from each other’s arms.

“Dad!” Jacob protested, sounding particularly immature with the way his voice rose to a shrill yelp of shock.

“I was just coming out here to let you know that your mother wants your help with dinner,” Andy explained, “but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity to embarrass you like that go by.”

“You never do,” Jacob sighed, giving you a quick kiss to the cheek as a goodbye as he stood up and walked inside.  You felt Andy’s eyes on you as you looked to the ground awkwardly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.  A few seconds after the door was shut, he spoke again.

“I couldn’t let you two get too hot and heavy, and besmirch this innocent patio couch.”

“You’d better not be mad at me for kissing my boyfriend,” you frowned as you stood up.  “That’s the most normal thing that’s happened all weekend.”

“I’m not,” he assured, beginning to step closer to you.  “Jealous?  Slightly.  Not that I see him as competition or anything.”

“Uh, you probably should,” you disagreed, raising your eyebrow in a mix of confusion and challenge.  

“Honey, I saw you kissing.  It was nothing to write home about,” he laughed.  “He doesn’t seem to realize that, since he brought you here.  Can’t blame him—-” he stepped closer to you and ever-so-delicately brushed his fingers against your arm— “but you know you can do better.  You know nobody can make you feel like I do.”

“Andy,” you murmured, trying to step back as you glanced to the window by the backdoor, through which the both of you were clearly visible to anyone who sat in the living room.  It was empty now, but it was too close for comfort.  “Someone could see…”

“They’re in the kitchen, don’t worry,” he soothed, leaning down to ghost his lips over your cheek and neck, “nobody’s gonna see us, angel, s’just you and me…”

You didn’t want to, but you melted into his touch anyway.  Just those little circles that his fingers drew on your back made your entire body erupt in shivers.  “Andy,” you found yourself whispering as if you needed to remember who was doing this to you.

“I’m gonna fuck you tonight,” he whispered against your ear.  

Your breath caught in your throat.  

“Are you scared?” he teased.  “Afraid my cock’ll split you in half?”

Embarrassed, you nodded.

He grinned, pulling back from your neck to force you into a deep, dominating kiss.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to his shoulders, eagerly allowing his tongue access as it pressed into yours.  A little moan escaped you, causing him to pull your body even closer.  You had worried that kissing the two of them in a row like this would lead to an inevitable comparison, which would be beyond disgusting.  But nope, this kiss made you forget that you’d kissed Jacob at all.  Not that that exactly stopped it from being disgusting.

You knew if you didn’t stop yourself now, you wouldn’t be able to soon… and you really needed this kiss to end before you two got caught.  Pushing on his chest, you pulled back with a sigh.

“We shouldn’t—” you began.

“No, you’re right,” he agreed with a reluctant nod.  Still, you missed his touch now that it was gone.  “We’ll have plenty of time for that later.  It’s just hard to keep putting on a happy face when all I want is to grab you and bend you over the table and—”

“Oh god, you can’t talk like that,” you laughed nervously.  “You’re gonna drive me crazy, I swear.”

“Haven’t I already?” he smirked.

You nodded, because he was completely right.  With a quick wave, you opened the door to step into the house.  He called your name, getting your attention as you turned around.  In his hand, arm outstretched, was your book.  “Almost forgot this,” he smiled.

“Right, thanks,” you nodded, taking it and going back inside.

~

You spent the rest of the day reaching new heights of anxiousness.  Shaking your leg, chewing your lip, scratching your wrist— how could you relax after what Andy had said, how could you act casual?  You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the obvious opportunity to arise and for Andy to be inevitable like he always was.

You weren’t sure how he did it, but he did.  He got Laurie and Jacob to leave you two alone in the house.  With his influential career, he was probably used to getting what he wanted, but you hadn’t anticipated that he was so good at the hard work it took to get those things.

He got you, though.  Not that that took all too much hard work.

“Enjoy the movie you guys!” you told them as they were making their way out the door.  Jacob leaned in for a goodbye kiss, and softly asked one last time if you wanted to come.  

He pulled your shirt up over your head, and you hadn’t even gotten it all the way off before he undid your bra with a quick motion.  You hated to think about Jacob in that moment, but those few times you’d fooled around with him to this extreme, that part of the process had taken quite a bit longer.

When your breasts were free his hands latched onto them instantly; the rough pads of his fingers felt good against the sensitive skin, and his hands were so damn big.  You felt your back arching into his touch.

“Can’t wait to get my mouth on these,” he purred, “but I need to see all of you first.”

You yelped as he picked you up and tossed you back onto the bed.  He took off your socks first, which made you feel a little hot for some reason, and then reached down to pull at your shorts.  You lifted your hips to make it easier, looking up at him and gnawing on your bottom lip nervously.

As he tossed your shorts and underwear aside, you suddenly felt very naked compared to his clothedness.  Probably because you were completely naked and he was completely clothed.  He smiled down at you before grabbing your ankles and resting them on his shoulders, starting to kiss up your leg slowly while never breaking eye contact.

You whined impatiently.  “Andy, please, need you…”

“Shh,” he soothed, “we’ve got time baby, I finally got you all to myself and I’m gonna savor it.”

His lips moved up your calf and thigh, but irritatingly skipped anywhere salacious to get straight to your hips and belly.  “Hnng, Andy—” 

You choked on your words when he licked over your nipple, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.  It instantly hardened between his lips and he smiled.  “Baby, you’re so sensitive,” he cooed against your skin as he kissed his way to the other and did the same.

Your hips bucked up and made contact with his clothed thigh; you let out a high-pitched moan and did it again, rubbing yourself against his suit pants.  The rough material sent shocks of pleasure through you as Andy smiled and left little love bites along your neck.

"Look at you, such a needy little girl," he tsked.  "Rubbing your cunt on me like a whore.  You're gonna make a mess, baby."

"'m sorry I just— oh, fuck," you sighed, your head falling back onto the pillow with a soft thud.

"It's only fair," he shrugged.  "I don't mind spending the rest of the night with your come on my slacks.  So long as you spend it with my come still in your cunt."

You gasped, trying to imagine how you would hide that from Laurie and Jacob…

But you couldn’t keep on that train of thought for very long as he started to kiss down your stomach again.

“Please, Andy, need— fuck, I need you to— um, taste me, please,” you whimpered.

“Hmm, beg a little more,” he smirked.

It was a long line of nonsense after that; some barely-intelligible string of ‘please’ and ‘Andy’ with a little flair of embarrassing whining.  He laughed a little before he finally did what you’d asked, latching his lips onto your swollen clit.  Your back arched instantly as your hands clenched at the comforter beneath you.

It wasn’t at all like you’d imagined it would be— it was so warm, and he alternated between surrounding you with his mouth and teasing you with the tip of his tongue.  You let out a long, deep moan when his tongue slipped inside you, twisting and massaging your walls so perfectly.  Your hands carded through his hair, accidentally tightening and pulling when he licked right over your clit.  He didn’t seem to mind, though, just moaning against you and doing it again and again and again until your legs were quivering. 

Just as you were about to tell him that you were close, he instantly pulled away to speak.  “I can tell you’re close,” he purred as if he’d read your mind.  

“Please, don’t stop,” you begged, but he continued to sit up and started to open his belt.

“It’s not time to come yet, honey.  It’s gonna feel so much better when you come while I’m inside you— for both of us,” he grinned.

As his sweater was discarded and his trousers were pushed down, you bit your lip.  You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing his cock, especially when it had leaked enough pre-cum to leave a wet patch on his boxer briefs.

He was on you the second he’d finished stripping, caging in your body with his, growling as he started to kiss your neck.  You whined and arched your back, your heart racing as you tried to cope with the fact that this was happening, this was really happening.  It was surreal, or maybe it was more than real— you were going to lose your virginity.  To Andy fucking Barber.

“I think you’re ready for me, don’t you?” he asked teasingly, his hips moving forward to press his cock against your inner thigh.  You nodded as you swallowed thickly, gasping as he reached down and started to rub his swollen head through your folds.

“Please…” you sighed, even as your chest tightened with distant fear.

You had wondered if what he'd said about his marriage to Laurie being sexless was true.  It certainly would be a convenient lie to garner your sympathy and make him look better.  But you had no doubts it was the truth when he pushed his cock into you; he moaned like a man who had dreamed of this moment for years, who had been so deprived of affection for so long.  

It hurt less than you’d expected, although it was certainly overwhelming.

“Oh fuck, Andy,” you moaned,

“Say my name again, baby,” he demanded with a groan.

“Andy!” you repeated, a little louder right as the tip of his cock hit so deep inside you that it hurt— and for some reason, you wanted him to do it again.

“Fuck, you need to be quiet, or the neighbors’ll hear you,” he hissed as he pumped into you deeper and faster.  “Can you do that or do I need to choke you to shut you up?”

You whimpered from fear at that idea and he laughed a little.  

“Don’t act so innocent, baby, I know who you really are: you’re my dirty little slut.”

“No I’m—” you began to disagree.  A quick slap to the face, not too hard but stinging nonetheless, shut you up.

“You know you are,” he hissed, “so say it.”

You could barely carry this conversation, his cock filling you so completely that you couldn’t think about anything else.  “Andy, I—”

“Say it.”

You gulped but managed to pant between heavy breaths, “I’m…  I’m your dirty little slut, Andy…”

He grinned and began to move faster, deeper, somehow.  You clutched at his shoulders, kissing him and groaning into his mouth.  When his hips slammed into yours, you moaned louder than maybe you ever had before.  "You want it rough, honey?” he taunted.  “Want me to fuck you hard?"

"Yes, please!" you sobbed, your voice hoarse and desperate now.

He grabbed your hips and made good on his offer of brutality, and then some, making you nearly scream.  He kissed you again, perhaps in an attempt to keep you quiet, although it didn’t work that well, as you mouth fell open with every cry.  His teeth captured your lip as he growled above you, holding your hips up so the angle was perfect to send his cock right into the end of you, so deep— too deep, in the most perfect way.

His cock stroking against your walls was indescribable; each thrust made your entire body erupt in shivers.  The stretch was difficult but you loved it, you loved the way his body pushed yours to its limits.  

"Gonna come inside you, honey," he moaned, "gonna fill you up so good, gonna mark your body with my come and make you mine."

"Oh god, Andy, please," you sobbed.

"You gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he encouraged.

“Yes, so close—” you cut yourself off as you choked on nothing, you entire body beginning to tighten and seize up as pleasure spiralled higher and higher.

“Just like that, come on my cock,” he demanded, but you couldn’t do anything else even if you tried— the coil snapped as your vision went spotty.  Just as you started to close your eyes, he held your neck and stared down at you.  “Look at me when I make you come.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open with the intensity of sensation washing over you, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed.  Those blue eyes pierced through you as you shivered underneath him, and with your walls constricting his cock just felt even thicker inside you.  “Andy,” you whimpered, your fingers and toes erupting into pins and needles as you felt him flexing inside you— and he must have been coming in you in that moment, with the way he sighed and his thrusts pumped deeper yet more erratically.

Warmth spilled inside you as numbness decorated your extremities and fogginess clouded your mind.  You lost focus as he collapsed beside you— even when he pulled out, you still felt full, due in part to his come inside you and in part to being ruined so thoroughly by him.  Maybe you’d feel normal again tomorrow, or next week, but right now it was impossible to forget that you were fucked, in every sense of the word, by Andy Barber.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed your neck slowly, his breathing slowly returning to a stable pace as his chest pressed against your back.  He was mumbling something about how you were his girl, how you did so good for him, but you were already drifting into sleep even though it was barely nine o’clock.

You woke up the next morning in the guest room with Jacob beside you, who informed you that he’d found you already asleep when he got back from the movie he’d gone to see with his mom.

You left just a few hours later, waving goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Barber as Jacob pulled the car out of the driveway.

three months later...

The sun was just starting to set as you made your way home after your last class of the night.  Campus was gorgeous at this time of day, but you weren’t really taking the time to notice it as you focused instead on how wonderful it would feel to kick your shoes off, slip off your bra and slide into bed.  What you didn’t anticipate when you unlocked your dorm room’s door was to find Andy sitting on your bed as he waited for you.  You shut the door quickly so none of the girls mulling about the hall would see him.

He looked so out of place in your dorm.  He was so… adult, and yes, everyone there was an adult, but he was a whole new level of adulthood compared to the other residents of the honors dorm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you reminded him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he questioned casually.

“Because your son is on the other side of the hall,” you explained, unamused.  “What if he sees you here?  What if he sees your car in the garage?”

“You worry too much.  I don’t give a fuck if my son lives nearby, if I wanna visit my girlfriend then I’m gonna do it.”

He’d never used that word for you before— or at least, not in front of you.  It made you feel nervous, glancing to the floor as he stepped closer towards you.  "I think I'm too young to be your girlfriend,” you decided.

"Perfect age for a mistress, though."

You stammered as you tried to balance the way that word made you feel sick with the way it made you feel aroused.  He lifted your chin with a finger, his other hand pulling you closer at the waist.  "Are you trying to act innocent, honey?” he smirked.  “Do you think I didn't realize that it turns you on?"

"Wh-what turns me on?"

"The sneaking around.  The secrets, the lies; the fact that it's wrong, forbidden, taboo.  It's why you haven't broken up with my son yet and it's why you stare at my ring all the time— yes, I noticed."

You frowned, crossing your arms impatiently.  “I haven’t broken up with Jacob because my relationship with him makes a great cover for my relationship with you… I’m doing that for us.  And do you think I like the ring?  I hate that stupid chunk of silver, seeing it on your hand makes me so livid because it just reminds me that I don’t have you all to myself and—”

“Baby, you know I’m all yours,” he purred, kissing down your neck as your back began to arch.  “Meanwhile, I have to share you with him.”

You were amazed that he could refer to his own son with such disdain, but then again, you knew how jealous he could get.  

“If you’re mine then take the ring off,” you suggested between panting breaths.

“If you’re mine then take it off for me,” he countered.  His left hand was travelling up your neck and you grabbed it by the wrist.  He pulled back to look at you as you brought his fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of them before sucking on his ring finger, deeper and deeper, until it was poking down your throat and the ring was at your lips.  Lubricating it with your spit and spinning it with your tongue, you used your teeth to pull the ring slowly off of his finger.  He gasped a little as you opened your mouth and displayed it for him on your tongue, before spitting it out and across the room; it made a tiny little clinking noise as it hit your floor.

“Fuck,” he growled, the sound deep in his throat and dripping with desperation.

It felt like his hand never left your neck that night, like he was trying to claim you in every way he could all at once.  He was so possessive over you, ironically.  It was hard not to feel like your whole life was waiting.  Waiting for the semester to end so the next one could begin.  Waiting to graduate and get a job and finally begin your real adult life.  Waiting for the marks Andy left on your skin to fade so you didn’t have to wear a turtleneck in June.

Waiting for Jacob to find out, like he inevitably would.

Waiting for Andy to leave Laurie, or at least do something to make it seem like this was going somewhere.  

The thing about Andy was that he had this magical ability to make you stop worrying, in a way nobody and nothing else could.  When you were apart, reality would set in again and you’d decide you needed to confront him the next time you saw him.  It wasn’t even that you needed him to commit to you, specifically, you just needed to know what was going on— because how could he stay married through all this?  He needed to leave her, not for you but for himself.  You would get yourself all worked up and then he’d show up and soothe you until you forgot what you wanted to say in the first place.  When you were together, the future didn’t matter anymore, and neither did everything that was wrong about what you were doing.

It was like living in a dream, a really strange dream.  You were drowning in him, just like you’d known you would, but you didn’t want to stop.  You didn’t want to stop the secret dates when you gave your friends and boyfriend some excuse about having to study, the rendezvous in the back of his car, the midnight phone calls where he was whispering so his wife wouldn’t hear.

You figured that after all this time of being a good girl— the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect girlfriend, the kind of girl you’d take home to mom— you deserved to let go.  You deserved to have fun.

[sofwrites]

I’ve been rereading Welcome to the Digital Age, Babe, which is truly one of my favorites. I have a few head cannon/behind the scenes questions for you if that’s okay. I would love to know what you were thinking for these scenes?

1. When Colin and Eloise talk in the kitchen at the Christmas Party that Pen ran away from, what do they talk about?

2. Did anything else happen in Italy between them? Like I don’t think they did anything but kiss but I assume that Pen didn’t sneak out of a shared hotel room the next morning to catch her flight/run away.

3. When Colin says he called someone by the wrong name in bed, was that a reference to him calling someone else by Pen’s name?

4. At the end, when everyone realizes Pen is at Colin’s, is it because they’ve been watching them? Because I imagine it’s prb not super unusual for Pen to be at Colin’s at 5pm but it would be if she spent the night for example. And is this a situation where Felicity finds out first and then tells Hyacinth and so on?

Thank you! You are amazing!

Oh, hi! First off, thank you for all your lovely words! That fic kicked my butt so much while I was writing it, but I love knowing that it brings people joy (and that it's one of your favorites! My heart!)

I would absolutely love to hear your headcanons and answer any questions!!!!!!! It's actually a bit crazy how much thought has to go into every detail (ugh times and dates), so the fact that you want to know more is so sweet and heartwarming. It's also making me re-visit a fic that, though was very hard for me to write, is one I'm proud of! So, thank you, again. ♥️ My answers are below, but feel free to choose your own headcanons/let me know any others!

So, in my mind, Eloise is very 🧐 about the whole situation with Colin and Penelope and she can tell that he did something, even if Pen hasn't been very forthcoming. With the fact that she already knew there was something going on + Pen suddenly dipping out + Colin asking about where she is, Eloise is just going to corner him in the kitchen and ask if he did something stupid/if he did, he should try to fix it. I imagine Colin with half a cookie in his mouth going, "What? Did she say anything?" and kinda panicking because he definitely does not want her (or his other sisters tbh) to know what a dumb thing he said.

Oooooohhh... the after kiss™. Man. I imagine it happening a bit like the RMB kiss, where Colin's okay to go with the flow because he was enjoying himself, but Pen shuts it down really quickly. She laughs a bit awkwardly and suggests they get back, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets so there's not even a risk of brushing them against his. Then, when they get back she runs to the bathroom first to get ready, and then when he goes, she immediately pretends to fall asleep so that there's no risk of them talking. But the next morning, she gets up around 6ish and uses Colin's grogginess to her advantage (he spent a lot of the night tossing and turning). She manages to get ready without waking him up, but he stirs when she's putting on her shoes. He tries to get up to walk her out, but she claims that she's already running late and leaves before he gets the chance.

Oh God, I actually remember my beta reader asking me this and not knowing the answer. I think that if we're imagining this as a really sweet and idealized romance, then yes. If we're going for something more realistic, less likely because I imagine Colin stops sleeping around quite so much after he's started getting feelings. This one is more up to interpretation!

Okay, reading it back, I don't even know if I had a logical plan as for how Felicity figured it out... But yes, I think both Felicity and Hyacinth are nosey enough to figure it out and could have seen that Penelope was at Colin's the night before and was still there! But also, I could see Michael finally taking the plunge with Fran because of Colin's advice and mentioning later that night, which then led to Fran mentioning it to Eloise (or Hyacinth) which then made it's way back to Felicity who then saw Penelope's location and figured it out... And then, yes, that leads to the entire Bridgerton family finding out. Again, I definitely didn't think this one out very much (and would probably edit it a bit retrospectively), but those are my guesses 😃

Anyway, thank you again!!! I'm sorry for my extremely long answers and hope they are interesting/what you hoped for. I'm always happy to discuss these kinds of things and to learn that other people have different interpretations!

Have a beautiful, fantastic, wonderful day, and have a great holiday season!

[conceptsformyowner]

⏪ Going back to our D/s - Rules, chastity, and eye patches

PTJ# 25

Hello again. It’s been three weeks since the previous journal, things have been hard. Luckily the fact you’re reading this means things aren’t as hard anymore! My Owner and I had a lot of things to do, and we had a few moment where we feared ending our dynamic (among other looming things), but a few days ago we had an overdo dynamic-checking sit-down and we set our return to our rule book that was starting to fill up with cobwebs and dust right back on track.

We sat down and made a big list of all our rules. Then we went one by one and evaluated what we were going to do with them.

“Heel Training” (link) and “Concepts” (where I write a minimum-three-paragraphs concept every tuesday and thursday) are going to be paused for now. We’d never really started the heel training outside of Locktober, and the concepts started making my Owner feel inadequate, so I won’t be writing them anymore. Instead, I might start uploading drawings and/or renders/animations. I’ve already got one I need to finish that I’m really proud of. They allow me to still inspire my Owner without writing a Big Intimidating Detailed Book Of Law just for a single kinky idea.

We’ve been able to successfully hold up quite a few rules, and we’re keeping them as they are:

“No self-release” where if someone places a restraint on my body, I can’t remove it without permission

“Walked outside” where if I’m outside and with my Owner I can’t walk around without being led by hand by them

“Orgasm control and Points System” (link)

“Outings” where I have a limit on my social outings per week and have to always guarantee having returned home at a certain time

“Sleeping” where I can only sleep at my Owner’s home and am fully immobilized with earbuds playing degrading audio every night for sleeping

“Showers” where I must take one shower every day only using cold water, and am forbidden from using hot water

a few others that we didn’t even have to consider them because they’ve become so common and easy for us to do

Then there’s some that we haven’t been doing but can easily re-start them now:

“Toy Food and Food Dice” (link)

“Tether and Restraints” where I should, ideally, always have my neck chained to furniture or a fixed point, and have either my ankles or my wrists cuffs linked together. Typically applies to when I’m at home, but whenever possible can apply anywhere else private.

“Face eating” where I must always eat with directly with my face. This one we have been half-applying it, because even though I don’t remember the last time I used utensils at home, I have been using my hands to grab the plate pretty much every day, which is not ideal.

“No furniture” where I can’t ever sit or lie on human furniture without explicit permission. When in public and/or outside, I must ideally also ask for permission if the situation allows.

“Journal” where I have to write this! a Journal every week!

And finally there were the ones that we need to slowly transition back to:

“Pain Training” where every night my Owner gives me an impact session to train me to enjoy pain for them. We’ll start being more vocal about wanting to do it, since we both feel bad to say it because we’re afraid the other one doesn’t have the energy for it 😅

“Arriving home” where I must take off my clothes, and kneel every time I arrive home. I must then simply wait kneeling by my Owner’s side until they restrain me.

“Lone toy” where every time my Owner’s out and I’ve finished my due tasks, I must either be chained up and standing, simply waiting quietly for my Owner to come back, or go to My Room, which is a small space in my Owner’s closet. We intend to empty that space as much as possible so it’s easy to just store me whenever they want without a hassle.

“Deep-throat Training” will be simplified to once a day instead of twice, to make it a lot easier on me

It’s been a few days since we settled on all of this, and already we’re returning to the food dice, the tether and restraints, the no furniture, and the pain training.

Coming back to our dynamic has made me so, so happy. The first time my Owner used me again after like…a month? felt like such a huge relief. We now feel a lot more connected, like we have regained a much stronger bond and gotten back to a happy place that we had forgotten that exists with our dynamic. It’s amazing. I love it so much.

Anyways, getting back to the regular journal, here’s this ~week’s daily.

🌄 Daily

Friday 🤝💢

On Friday, my Owner suddenly grabbed me, kissed me, pushed me against a wall and kept kissing me. They pulled me away from it and pushed me back, this time forcing their hand between my legs, getting me to the edge in seconds. I’ve now been in chastity for all October, November, and already most of December, so they have to be really careful not to take me over the edge accidentally, and so must I.

I love it when they grab me. I have realized over this year that firm touch is very important to me. It’s not that soft touch feels bad, although it certainly can, but rather that it being firm brings me a lot of peace and relaxes me, and makes me feel a lot of affection. I think it’s part of why I’m a bottom and why I like bondage. It’s why whenever they grab my face, my neck, my leg, my arm, my waist, it makes me feel so so nice, as it does when they then move whatever part of their toy’s body they’re grabbing wherever they want it.

Two (or three?) times already they have used me and then offered to take all my points away and give me an orgasm (although giving it like this). But both times I’ve refused and earned 5 extra points in return. It feels wrong to choose to orgasm, to lose all my good toy points. I want to be a good toy, and so I refuse and extend my chastity on my own at least until the next time they orgasm and then offer me this same deal. I’m trying to chose to be kept in chastity, and it’s easier now because they’ve told me they themselves also want to give me release soon, in some devious way they have planned, I’m sure. So declining isn’t that difficult, because I know there is an end in sight that involves me not having chosen it but rather my Owner ordering me to accept it. I can’t wait, I’m very very scared, which makes me very very very excited. I missed feeling like this. It makes me so happy.

Sunday 🗜️👅 👐📿🔒

On Sunday, shortly after I showered I mentioned to my Owner that I suddenly pictured something while we were lying on the couch. I pictured them tying my wrists to one end, my ankles to the other, and then putting a clothespin on my tongue before stepping away and continuing to work on their things. No more than two minutes later, my Owner came back with my chain, collar, a lock, and a clothespin.

I had taken off my collar and my tether-chain to shower, as per their command, so I expected to see them come back with those…but not the clothespin.

They threaded my short collar-chain through my wristcuffs and then around my neck, locking the loop closed shut with a padlock at the back of my neck. This forced my elbows to be bent and my hands to be kept by my neck. They then attached the tether to my neck and chained me up to the foot of the sofa. They held the clothespin in front of my face and said ‘Out’. With my tongue out, they finished up by closing the clothespin on it, very painfully on the tip.

This wasn’t a regular clothespin, it was the yellow one, the strongest, most painful one.

‘Don’t drool on the pillows and you can stay on the sofa’ they said before leaving me there and heading over to the kitchen.

It was incredible.

Threading my collar through the loops of my cuffs before re-closing it with the padlock felt…oof…very very menacing. My collar only comes off at MOST like once every couple of weeks, just for cleaning, but other than that that padlock is never unlocked. Which made me process it like my wrists were going to be there for a very, very long time. Of course I knew it wasn’t the case, I needed to do things and help out around the house, but knowing that didn’t stop it from feeling very menacing and permanent. I loved it.

I stayed there, facing up as to not drool on the pillows, feeling the pain on my tongue and letting my mind simply leave. I started very lucidly thinking about possible mechanisms we could make to make the closet door close-able from the outside without needing to make holes in anything (since we don’t own the place). When they returned and laid down next to me I came back and realized how far away I’d gone. It felt amazing to be there for them, just waiting, with nothing to do but be their stored toy. Forced to not do anything, the best kind of bondage.

It really hurt when they took off the clothespin, but no damage was done. We cuddled and then they released my hands before we went and finished dinner. It was amazing.

Monday 👁️👁️🩹🩹

On Monday, we didn’t get much sleep. They usually take naps while hugging me, but since we’re on human furniture I’m not allowed to also fall asleep with them. I like it a lot, because even if I’m tired and want to also take a nap, that just adds degradation to it which is always nice.

About an hour later, a few minutes after my Owner awoke again, they saw how exhausted I saw and left for a moment. I saw them come back with a box of medical eye patches. Carefully, they applied one and first the other, completely covering both my eyes. I was of course not allowed to take them off. They told me I was now allowed to sleep on the sofa, since I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

It was super nice. I could open my eyes but only to see brightness behind the eye patches, with no detail behind it. Keeping them closed was more comfortable, though, so it didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.

When I woke up, it had been four hours. I needed that sleep so bad, and my Owner really liked taking away my eyes and having me there while they worked. I told them I’d woken up and they still kept me like that for a while before removing the eye patches. They also used that time to work on my christmas gift, so they kept the eye patches on some extra time to prevent me from accidentally seeing what it was. I love it.

My Owner knows a lot about FX make up, so we want to try for them to make me eye-less and mouth-less. Not only for aesthetic but also because, well, sensory deprivation is hot. Just an identity-less toy. I love that. Just an object. Also, kind of creepy, which can be fun. I totally imagine doing that for some event, but I have no idea how feasible that is haha.

🌇 Final Thoughts

I’m really happy to have gotten back to all of this. I hope to be able to post some nice drawings/renders here soon. In the meantime, I’ll still be writing these journals whenever possible.

See you next time.

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

---

Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[the-evil-duckling]

And now that Pride Month's over, Let's Talk About Pratchett.

The companies have taken down their flags. The marches and rallies are fading away. Rainbow colours are melting back into grayscale. And now that all the hubbub is dying down, let's talk about an author who did perhaps more than any other to introduce gender-and-sexual minorities to the public (and not just as a cute oddity to be cooed at from a distance, either).

Let's talk about an author whose works are perhaps the most representative, hard-hitting, and wholesome, in all of well-written English literature.

Let's talk about Pratchett.

Before we dive into the lovely little nitty-gritties, I want to just take a quick look at what Pratchett's writing really is, and what makes it so very exceptional. It's pretty simple, really.

He's funny.

That's the "secret" formula to Terry Pratchett's success across the global; he's funny everywhere, everywhen, across multiple generations and multiple decades and multiple geopolitical borders. You don't have to read Discworld with a lot of effort, thinking deeply after every line about the message the author is trying to convey. You don't have to analyze every character and every situation to see how the author is sculpting a crystal-clear mirror and holding it up to the face of Society. When I'm feeling down (cause college and life and pressure and dreams) and wanna start gouging out my forearms with my nails, I can just curl with one of my comfort books (like Men At Arms, or Unseen Academicals) and laugh and chuckle and just feel better. You can just enjoy it.

Now, I think, I can get to the fun stuff; analysing all of my favourite characters and the roles that they represent in mirroring Pratchett's view of People. (I should mention at this point that I am mainly going to be focussing on the Sam Vimes novels, and what I will be writing are my own thoughts and opinions. Anyone who knows more - or has just read/interpreted the books differently - is of course free to add their own musings.)

Fred Colon: Sergeant Colon is that rarest and yet most typical of things: Fred Colon is an ordinary person. He is no hero, or genius, or leader. He is not evil or even mildly malicious. And that is the very point that needs to be understood. People (most people) are not deliberately evil; they are, on the whole, fairly decent people who treat their friends well and try not to make enemies. It is just... petty selfishness, petty prejudices, petty apathy... all summated in every single member of the populace, and suddenly everyone knows that dwarfs are just money-grubbing bastards who'd bite your kneecaps off for a copper coin and trolls are dumber than the rocks they're made off but they'll as soon smash you to pulp as look at you and you can't trust a vampire cause they're too dead to be alive and-

Carrot Ironfoundersson: Captain Carrot is a cliché. Captain Carrot is a cliché wrapped inside a trope hidden in a Mary Sue, all turned on its head. Captain Carrot, rightful heir to the throne of Ankh, leader of all manner of beings, man who once beat Detritus in a fistfight... is not the hero of this story. In any other series, the story would have been of a brave new cop (who is also the king) standing up to the corruption and lawlessness of the Patrician while taking advice from his grizzled old half-drunk commander who dies four chapters into the first book with some vaguely portentous words that the hero remembers at the very last minute to give him the tools/strength/motivation necessary to keep fighting. But this is Pratchett. And the hero of the story, if there is one, is very much the grizzled old commander. Two other points have also always struck me about Carrot. The first is the matter of identity. Biologically, Carrot is very much a human, but in all other ways that matter he is entirely a dwarf - his name is Kzad-bhat, and even the deep-down dwarfs do not question his dwarfishness - and yet that does make him any less a human. In this is reflected the multiplicity of identity (not just of gender, which is what most people immediately jump to, but all identities). The second point is of the relationship between Carrot and Angua, which seemed to me a representation of a healthy dom/sub relationship. Unlike the twisted shit we find on ao3 (and in some published books that I don't feel that I need to name), Angua is at no point portrayed as lesser, weaker, incapable, dependent, or deferent. She is her own person, and the two of them just happen to have this kind of chemistry.

Samuel Vimes: Ahhhh. His Grace, His Excellency, The First Duke of Ankh, Blackboard Monitor Samuel Vimes, Commander of the City Watch. The protagonist, if not quite the hero, of the series. He is not perfect, not even close. He is casually discriminatory (species-ist?) and thoughtless in most of what he says. his saving graces are that his discrimination is universally applied at all beings living and dead, and that he has never, not even once, allowed his personal feelings of prejudice stand in the way of justice (which is at times, all that separates him from Fred Colon). Does that mean that it's all okay, and everything is now fine and dandy and hunky-dory? No. Not even fucking close. Words matter and actions matter and even how you feel deep inside - all of it matters. Prejudice is prejudice, and it is always wrong. there are no mitigating circumstances, no 'yes, but...' that can make it acceptable. But only an idealistic idiot would say that it is not better than the alternative. And this is the reason that Vimes is one of my favourite protagonists; he is not a hero. He is real.

Leonard of Quirm: A parody of the public perception of a genius (perhaps of Roundworld's Tesla and da Vinci), I have loved Leonard as a character ever since I realised he was gay. Allow me to elaborate. As I was recently re-reading Jingo, I noticed a line that went something like 'He started drawing how The-Going-Under-The-water-Safely-Device could be improved, piloted by a muscular man who was not overdressed'. And just like that, a couple dozen other off-hand comments slotted into place and I realized the homosexual truth. And I love this portrayal of homosexuality, because most books or movies or tv shows or fanfictions with a gay MC (or even sidekick) tend to have a storyline roughly equivalent to 'hey my name is [insert name here] and I'm GAY and I have a destiny to save the world and my family and my GAY boyfriend whom I'm dating cause I'm GAY and before I go outside I have to pick my outfit really carefully better go with salmon-rose-flutter pink cause I'm GAY and now I'm outside and I'm not very popular and this is my tragic backstory cause a lot of people don't like me cause I'm GAY and-' Yeah. This is not good writing. By barely mentioning anything, Pratchett somehow still managed to emphasise that a) homosexuality is one of your identities, not all of them and b) just because a story has a character who is gay doesn't mean that the story becomes about a character being gay.

Trev Likely: One sentence. Just one sentence. 'Hating people was too much work.'

If you actually made it this far, you are obliged to reblog. I'm sorry, but I don't make the rules. (Please?)

[sundaysundaes]

Our First Time

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 4.6k | College AU

Summary: Considering your boyfriend never dares to take the initiative to go further than your usual make-out sessions, you have to do the part to actually be in charge of the relationship.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, Mark Lee losing his virginity while being extremely awkward and utterly cute about it, oral sex, fingering, failed fluff (idk man this is just basically me being a thirsty hoe over morkly)

“Remember the suit you wore when we went to your aunt’s wedding?”

Your boyfriend, who has been together with you for almost a year by now, hums in response, not really giving you any glance as he’s busy tapping his pen to his lips, thinking about writing the next lyric for the song he’s composing. Mark Lee has his chest pressed against his acoustic guitar, his hair’s a bit messy and slightly parted to the side, showing his forehead. Considering how close he’s sitting on the floor next to you, you can tell how half of the collar of his washed-out denim jacket stands up, brushing against the end of his dark hair.

“Yeah, what about it?” He continues asking when he notices that you’re waiting for a proper answer. He slips his guitar pick back between his fingers and tries a few chords to match his lyrics.

“I just dreamt about you fucking me from behind while wearing that suit.”

Mark strums his guitar too hard out of shock, making his instrument flies away from his lap, hitting the marbled floor with a sudden loud noise.

“What?”

Still having your head pressed against the table with your right cheek glued to your abandoned college papers, you flatly repeat, “I dreamt about you fucking—”

Mark stands up so fast, you can tell he’s having a slight headache because of it. “No. No. I heard what you said, I just—” It’s a fact that Mark blushes rather easily, but he has never blushed this hard before. “What—why—telling me so suddenly like this—you’re—”

“Mark, you’re rambling.”

“Why are you so calm about it?!” He walks away to pick up his guitar, unconsciously stomping a little bit like a fuming child as he does so. “And why are you lazing around like that? Didn’t you have some assignments to do?”

You finally straighten yourself up, looking at the textbooks you need to read and suddenly feeling like you’re dyslexic from birth. “I dozed off a bit, I guess. I just woke up from that dream where—”

“OKAAAAYYYYY!” Mark scrambles back to your side, crossing his legs and shushing you down by covering your head with your hood until you can barely see anything. The grey hoodie you’re wearing—his hoodie, actually—is already oversized when Mark is wearing it, so it’s basically a dress when you’re wearing it and the hood is big enough to cover your entire head.

You pull your hood away, your hair looking like a mess and by then Mark still has his cheeks rosy from your words and you wonder, whether it really was too much to talk about with your boyfriend?

You have never been the one who gets easily embarrassed about sexual stuff—or about anything really, because you’re a pretty blunt person. It’s his job to get embarrassed about things—even the ones that came out from his own mouth. Mark can be so confident and so awkward at the same time that it doesn’t make sense but you find him to be cute that way.

“Mark.”

“If you’re going to talk about that dream again, I am going to yank my hair out of my head.”

“But—“

“And I’m going to yank your hair out of your head.”

“But then we’re both be bald.”

“That will be your fault.”

You huff, unconsciously pouting, before you finally let go and head back to your papers. You try to hold your concentration longer than a few minutes, but when you hear Mark going back to his guitar, humming a few notes here and there, you just give up because there’s no way you’re going to finish your thesis when your boyfriend is singing so angelically like that.

“New song?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Thanks. It still feels a bit weird on some parts though, but—” Mark stops talking when you walk on all fours toward him, pushing the guitar out of his hands and crawl onto his lap. “Babe?”

You sink your face against the crook of his neck, hands going down and circle their way around his back. “Ssshh,” you say, exhaling all of his scents and thanking whoever it is that invented his perfume because goddamn, Mark smells like cinnamon and chocolate and everything that is good in this world. “I’m out of battery. I need to re-charge.”

Mark spends two seconds in silence before he blurts out laughing, “What are you even saying?” He protests but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he rests his chin on your shoulder and cuddles you closer into his chest.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, almost lazily as if he’s a few seconds away from sleeping. You answer by placing a peck on his neck which makes him jolt a little in surprise but not breaking away. The silence between you two is comforting but the way Mark’s jeans are pressing against your bare thighs is not so you move around, trying to find the most perfect comfort zone on his lap—not knowing that it is becoming a new kind of torture for your boyfriend. It’s until you feel something growing underneath you that you begin to halt your movements.

“Mark—”

“I know, don’t say it—”

“You’re kinda… hard.”

“I said, don’t—” He lets out a whine, slamming his temple against your shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry, but you keep moving your butt and it feels like you’re not wearing any pants—“

“I am not wearing any pants.”

“Fuck.” Mark is not the kind of man who curses a lot—he only does it when he’s surprised or when he panics as he tries to process what he’s saying next, so the fact that he’s cursing now can mean he’s feeling one of those things or both or for a whole other reason.

“I mean,” you try to explain, “I’m not trying to seduce you or anything. It’s just your hoodie is way too big for me so I thought why bother? It’s not like we’re going somewhere. We’re just hanging out in my bedroom after all.”

“Oh my God,” Mark groans, throwing his head back as he leans against your bed. “Just give me some time to calm down.”

He really looks like he’s trying to will his boner to go away, what with the way he furrows his eyebrows and keeps his eyes tightly closed in concentration. Mark is too much of a gentleman to ask for your help but you’re willing so it’s more like he’s giving one by providing the chance for you to ravage him.

Just gotta play it cool, though.

And by cool, you mean pressing your palm against his groin when he’s not expecting.

“Yo, what!” He jumps like a scared little cat and honestly, he’s too cute—so utterly cute—that you begin to lean up and kiss him square on the lips. “Mmph!” His protest is muffled by your mouth and the way you entangle your fingers around the back of his hair, pulling him close. He stiffens for a few seconds before he finally lets go, melting into the kiss and you know the next one is going to be your favourite part.

See, the thing with Mark is, he acts shy and awkward most of the time but when the moment is right, he can be passionate about things. Like when he’s playing music. Or writing his raps during his free time.

Or kissing you.

“Mark—“ It’s funny that you initiated this, but it’s you who’s losing your breath. Mark takes your hand when you’re about to fall off his lap, pulling you with enough force to make you tumble back to his chest, and slips his tongue inside your mouth as you gasp. His kisses are deep and fast, almost like he’s in a hurry to kiss you before you disappear from his life forever. You never peg yourself to act like a thirteen-year-old virgin—because you’re certainly not—but when Mark kisses you like this, you feel like you’re acting worse than that.

You can feel one of his hands on your thigh, holding you tight to the point it feels like it’s going to bruise. You push his denim jacket off his shoulders when he kisses your neck, lips hovering hot against your sensitive spot, making you say his name in the tone you’ve never made before.

“You,” Mark whispers between kisses, “have got,” another kiss, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip, “to stop teasing me like this.” Another slip of his tongue, meeting yours for a split second before he breaks off the kiss. “Or else, I’ll go crazy. I am going crazy because of you.”

“Then why are you stopping?” You ask, breathing a little bit heavier. You cup one of his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him again but he pulls away, hesitating. “Mark?”

“I don’t think we should go any further.”

“You don’t?” You grind your hips against him again and his lips part slightly, trying his best to contain his moan. “Even though you’re this excited?”

“That—” He hisses, gripping hips with both hands to keep you still. “Stop it, you’re not being fair.”

“I’m being honest,” you correct him. “What’s wrong? What’s stopping you? What did I do wrong?”

You can tell he feels sorry for making you feel like this and he’s really contemplating whether he should tell you the real reason or not, so you squeeze his hand and smile at him. “Let me know, please?”

He licks his bottom lip nervously before he sighs. “It’s dumb but…” He looks away, trying to hide his face but you see how the tips of his ears are turning scarlet. “You’re Haechan’s ex and I know he can be a little bit, umm… wild.”

It takes a few seconds for you to process. “So you’re afraid that you’re going to be worse than him in bed?”

“No, I mean—“ He seems frustrated and ashamed, like a child being caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “Okay, yes, I guess you’re right. I am. But it’s more than that.”

The way he fidgets and rambles is just so cute—everything about him is cute—but you never say that out loud because he hates being called cute. He always says you’re cuter than him. “Mark, I don’t care about what happened with me and Haechan. I’m dating you now, aren’t I? You’re being jealous over nothing.”

The way he pouts indicates that he doesn’t particularly agree with your words, but he lets it go. “Well, there’s also one other thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know,” he shrugs, hiding his doe eyes behind his bangs. “That thing.”

“What? What is it? What thing?” Then you open your mouth in realisation. “Oh Mark, baby, I don’t care if you have a small dick. Size doesn’t matter.”

“What—NO!” He shrieks, face in flame. “I mean, not that I regularly measure it and compare it to other guys—I have never even seen another guy’s dick—not that I want to—”

“Mark, you’re rambling again.”

“I DON’T HAVE A SMALL DICK!” He exclaims and you hold back a laugh when he adds in a murmur, “At least I don’t think I have.”

“Okay, my bad.” You massage his shoulders, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Then what is it?”

Another silence, then. “I’ve never done this before.”

“What, sex?”

He weakly nods, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip worriedly, and you feel something warm growing inside your chest. The fact that he’s never been with anyone suddenly becomes the highlight of your life, and if you can be his first then you can just die from happiness by the end of the day.

But it’s because of this very reason, that you have to become very careful.

“Okay, then, let’s just take it slow?” You offer and he seems conflicted about his own expression. Part of him looks relieved but the other part of him looks disappointed.

“Why do I feel like we have our roles in reverse?” He asks, somewhat annoyedly, as you settle yourself better in his lap. You let out a small chuckle in response. “Also, your brother is downstairs.”

“He has his AirPods on.”

“How do you know he has his AirPods on?”

“Johnny always has his AirPods on.”

“But—”

“Mark,” you whisper, closing your eyes as the tip of your nose touching his, “Don’t you want me?”

He lets out a shaky breath, having a hard time trying not to stare at your lips that are becoming even more irresistible by the second. “You don’t even know how much I want you.”

“Then just let go. Just give in, Mark.” You press your temple against his and within this close proximity, his scent is intoxicatingly amazing.

“Okay,” he finally whispers back, but since he still sounds somewhat unsure, you add, “Look, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Just stop me whenever it gets too uncomfortable for you, okay?”

“Okay now we seriously have our roles in reverse. Should I be handing my dick to you now? I think you’ll make better use of it.”

“That sounds like a great idea only if it’s possib—” The rest of your words is replaced with a yelp when Mark suddenly pushes you down onto your back, your head hitting the floor too hard and now he’s yelping.

“Oh, shit—fuck!” He scrambles with his words and with his hands, trying to help you get up and check on your condition at the same time. “I’m so sorry! I was trying to be sexy and be in control or something like that—shit, it just looks way better in my head—I—Why are you laughing?!“

You can’t help it. This is all too ridiculous. Almost refreshing for you, even. You never compared Mark with your ex-boyfriend Haechan before because Mark is way, way better than he’s ever going to be but you remember that with Haechan, things were wild. So wild, that you constantly got caught off guard, not having enough time to focus on your feelings or your own pleasure and just fulfilling his, and his only. With Mark, you feel like you have so much more to give. So much more new experience. So much laughter. So much fun.

“Oh my God, Mark,” you cackle, wiping away some tears from your eyes, “I love you, but if you don’t stop acting so cute, I am going to ravish you myself.”

“What?”

You blink in realisation. “Sorry, that was too much.”

“No, not that.” He knits his eyebrows together. “You love me?”

You feel your heart drops to your stomach. You can’t believe you just said that. It’s not like you didn’t mean it—of course, you mean it. But you’ve tried your best to wait so you can hear him say it first. You are a woman, after all. And to think that you just said it randomly at times like this? After your boyfriend knocked your head against the floor for trying to be sexy? Not really the way you imagined it to be, that’s for sure.

“Umm,” you fondle the hem of your—his—hoodie. Great, now you’re nervous. Suddenly, those papers you have scattered on your table don’t look so bad. “You’re right, I do have some assignments to do. I’ll just get back to—“

Mark grabs your hand, holding you right on your spot. “You love me?”

You can practically hear your own heartbeat in your ears and it’s really fast. “My thesis—”

“Babe, I need to hear you say it.” The way his doe eyes are holding yours seems unfamiliar. His gaze is firm, unfaltering, and you give in because what else can you do? It’s really how you feel after all.

“I love you, Mark.” You can hear the shyness in your own voice and you curse inwardly because where did your confidence go? You were acting so superior before!

Mark doesn’t say a word and when you feel like dying is a better option than standing awkwardly in front of your attractive boyfriend after your stupid unplanned confession, he suddenly lifts your entire body with both hands and lays you down on the bed.

“Mark—“

He kisses you like he needs it to keep himself alive, and you find yourself closing your eyes shut, moulding your lips against his until you can taste the mint flavour from the candy he ate earlier. He tangles his fingers around your locks, the other hand cupping your cheek to angle your face better so he can kiss you deeper. You can’t help but to arch yourself closer to him, chest meeting chest, hips against hips. You can no longer tell whether the moans come from you or him but everything feels hot and going so fast, like you’re free-falling from a skyscraper.

Perhaps he feels the same way because he gradually slows his pace until he finally parts his lips from you. One look at your disheveled face and messy lipstick smeared from your mouth to your cheek, and he goes back to staring at your lips again with want. He mutters, “Fuck” under his breath, almost inaudibly before he crashes his lips against yours, but slower this time, just carefully savouring every taste and breathing in every scent of you.

Mark pulls away only to grab the hem of his white Van Halen shirt, pulling it over his head and tosses it somewhere without care and you have to remind yourself to breathe because fuck me, that was hot. His hair’s a mess—even messier than before and you think that’s just as hot as he can get but then he pushes his hair back with his hand, forehead showing as it glistens with sweat, and says, “I’m not going to hold back anymore.”

Again, fuck me, that was hot.

Mark seems brave enough to finally just let go and consume you in the way he has been wanting to for a while, but you can tell he’s also nervous from the way he fumbles every now and then, especially when he tries to unhook your bra without looking. He has no problem tossing your—his—hoodie away, but when he keeps his eyes closed as he kisses you, it takes a good minute for him to finally unclasp your bra.

He’s momentarily in awe when your naked breasts come into view but he wastes no more time trying to please you with both his hands and his mouth.

It’s good. He’s good. If he’s this good his first time, you can’t wait to see what happens next. You’re too busy losing yourself in his touch until you feel his length pressing against your thigh. By instinct, you press it harder against his groin, eliciting a surprised moan from him.

Goddamn, why is he so hot?

That voice of his; you want to hear it more and more, so you bring his mouth back to yours, align your hips with his and unzip his jeans. Mark is swearing again, but the more he swears, the breathier he sounds and when you rub him over his underwear, his moans are delicious.

“Feels good?” You ask and he kinds of scowl at you because what do you think?

Surprisingly enough, he pushes your hand away from his crotch and when you raise an eyebrow asking why, he kisses your body lower and lower until his face is hovering above your panties.

“Mark,” you call out, “Don’t try to be sexy and pull my underwear down with your teeth or something. You haven’t reached that level yet.”

He responds by tickling you hard on the sides of your stomach and you almost kick him in the face from laughing beyond control.

After all joking has receded, Mark swallows his breath nervously and kisses you on the inside part of your thigh, slowly creeping down to your heat, mouthing against it from over the fabric.

“Want me to take it off?” He asks in the cockiest way you’ve ever seen him do and you wonder who’s the virgin one in this relationship.

“Depends. Do you want to have blue balls for the rest of your life?”

“I’m kidding, geez,” he says, chuckling a bit but it sounds more nervous and he probably is nervous since he’s never done anything like this before.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” you assure him and he looks like he wants to retort with something clever and snarky but he also kind of needs your guidance so he keeps quiet and just pulls your underwear down and tosses it away.

Mark knows how to use his tongue, he just doesn’t know where he should use his tongue. That’s when your guidance comes handy, you suppose.

“A little bit lower, Mark.”

“Here?”

“Lower.”

“Umm… here?”

“Whoa, too low!” You spring up from the bed, pressing your thighs together so he won’t lick anywhere weird. “Okay, Mark, there’s my vagina and there’s my ass. Some girls like to have their asses eaten, but not me.”

“Right,” he says awkwardly, cheeks burning bright. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Umm…” It’s so awkward and you both kind of just sit on the bed not knowing what to do so you ask, a bit unconvincingly, “Try again?”

To your surprise, Mark nods rather excitedly, like a child eager to learn and that’s cute and all but in this context? Not so much.

But wow, Mark learns fast.

It’s been more than a year since someone has touched you like this and it feels like it’s your first time again, so you’re quickly reduced to a whimpering mess when Mark kisses and flicks his tongue against your private part. And when he sucks at a particular spot, you’re practically screaming his name.

“S-sorry, did I hurt you?” He asks, pulling away, eyes shaking in concern.

“God, no.” You’re this close to shoving his face back to your crotch. “Don’t stop, Mark, please.”

“But if you’re in pain—“

“Mark,” you can practically feel your patience throwing itself out of the window. “If I’m in pain, I will kick you in the face or tell you to stop, so if I don’t do any of that, don’t fucking stop.”

You know you sound a bit desperate. Or a lot. But is there any girl out there who’s not going to sound this desperate when Mark Lee is using his mouth to utter nonsense when he just did a perfectly good job over there?

Lucky for you, Mark actually listens and doesn’t stop going even if you’re mewling his name, to the point of almost sobbing even, and continues to please you until your thighs begin to tremble in delight and you fall back to the bed with the biggest content sigh you’ve ever made in your entire life.

“How was it?” He asks with a little bit of teasing in his tone because he can see how good it was. You can tell he wants to hear you praise him.

“You, Mark Lee,” you breathe out, looking at him with stars in your eyes. “Are the most talented person in the world and I’m not just talking about your talent in music, but in everything.”

He chuckles. “That good?”

You pull him down by his belt, until his chest pressing against yours again. “That good,” you agree before you crash your mouth against his in the most consuming way you’ve ever kissed someone.

Mark eventually has his pants off and you switch positions when he’s finally stark naked. He’s so shy about the whole thing that he barely keeps eye contact with you, and he stutters hard, asking where the condom is when you begin to position yourself on top of him. You shake your head, telling him that you don’t have one and add, “Just tell me when you’re about to come so you can pull out just in time.”

Mark opens and closes his mouth like a fish gasping for air, probably about to protest but can’t come up with any better solution. Besides, he basically just throws everything out of the door when you sit down on his lap, your walls stretching against his length in one swift motion and he throws his head back.

“Fuck!” He breathes heavily, looking at you specifically at the part where you both are connected. “You’re wet—how are you so wet—and warm—oh my God—I’m—“

“You’re rambling again.” It’s the third time you said that to him in the last hour, which must have been some kind of a record. Not important right now, though. You’re focusing yourself to adapt to his length—because he’s nowhere small, it turns out—and slide up and down when it stings less.

“Okay, shit, wait—“ Mark sinks his nails on the sides of your hips, making you wince a little and he pulls back, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I feel like I’m going crazy. Can we stop?”

“Too much?”

“Too much.”

You tease him by clenching your walls around him and he just groans loudly in the sexiest way you’ve ever heard a man groan. “Babe, please,” he begs, eyes half-lidded in lust. “You’re not being fair. It’s my first time.”

“So?” You can’t help it. You’re having so much fun. You rock your hips against him again and he just loses it. Mark grabs you by the waist, bringing you back down to the bed and muffle your laughter with his mouth.

“Since you can’t stop teasing me about it,” Mark says, spreading your legs apart by instinct and seeing him between your thighs is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed. “I’ll take control from here.”

Mark moves rather awkwardly, and sloppily from time to time but he is hitting the right spot. He’s too enthusiastic though, which doesn’t make him last long. He comes undone soon after, dripping liquid onto your stomach before your own orgasm can hit you but he doesn’t spend his time lying beside you on the bed. Instead, he quickly inserts one finger into you, then two, pumping in and out as he analyses your expression—making sure that he’s doing right and not hurting you in the process. You clutch your fingers around his bicep, urging him to go faster with your mouth parting halfway in pleasure and he smiles proudly at the sight. Smirking, he brings his mouth back to suck on whatever that is that makes you feel like the world is ending and you don’t fucking care because of Mark, oh yes, Mark!

When you’re done, he pulls his fingers out and licks the tips. He’s probably not trying to be sexy but more out of curiosity or just trying to imitate some dudes in those porn videos he watches from time to time, but goddamn, please do that again.

“Sorry for making such a mess,” he says, pushing the bangs out of your eyes, “I’ll go grab some tissues to clean you up—”

You bring him down to kiss him, senselessly, longingly, and languidly. Just enjoying the moment as you come down from your high. “You know,” you say, “I don’t know if I’m a good teacher, or you’re just one hell of a student, but that was amazing.”

Mark blushes but he grins like a child. “Am I better than Haechan?”

“I hate you for bringing him up because he no longer exists in my life but I bet my ass he’s never going to be as good as you. Our first time is ten times better than my last time with him.”

“You’re being honest?”

“Ten thousand percent.”

Mark plops down on the bed next to you, punching the air in a winning pose. “Hell yes!”

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Let’s take a shower together. You see, practice makes perfect.”

As he’s busy trying to wash the blush away from his face, there’s a loud knocking sound coming from the other side of your door.

“Have you two bunnies done fucking each other’s brains out yet? I need to take my AirPods you borrowed.”

Mark stares at you in horror when you finally remember that you, indeed, borrowed Johnny’s AirPods this morning.

You begin to sweat. “Oops?”

***