#media comm texts

[ignatiusteto]

question for people that do comms and use Paypal as the main way to get paid! do you use a business account/suggest a person use a business account?

rbs welcome!

[gyoukukens]

tag dump.

♡ . *   ooc.   ›   shut up‚ shuji

♡ . *   ic.   ›   with this treasure‚ i summon...

♡ . *   answered.   ›   read 2:31pm.

♡ . *   visage.   ›   second grade sorcerer : megumi.

♡ . *   isms.   ›   no one could judge us.

♡ . *   promo.   ›   scrolling through social media...

♡ . *   dash comm.   ›   slice of life at jujutsu tech.

♡ . *   hc.   ›   study &&. notes.

♡ . *   crack.   ›   sighs... tokyo.

♡ . *   inbox.   ›   send a text to : megumi.

♡ . *   hidden inventory arc.   ›   young child prodigy.

♡ . *   shibuya incident arc.   ›   i'll die first‚ good luck yourself.

[jamminvroomvroom]

die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

~

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

-

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

-

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

~

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

~

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

-

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

-

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

-

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

-

let me know what you think :D

-

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[goldsbitch]

Just don't talk--------

-and remember my coffee order.

p12 to Just don't talk

summary: First outing in public, as the two don't even try to hide that they're in love with each other.

As far as bizarre goes, this meeting was up there at the top, yet again.

The comms team had a big chart put up in the meeting room, with timelines, platforms, twists and turns - it was like watching someone explain a plot for some movie script. This is where you'll be spotted kissing for the first time, this is when you post a photo with a family member, this is when you'll go on a vacation together (faked, obviously) and this is when you'll part on separate vacation and soft launch your break up - and this is your break up note for social media. It was funny, yet a little overwhelming.

"Obviously, this will be adapted as we move forward. As you can see here on the next slide, these are the numbers we are setting as our targets. The amount of revenue generated by this will be affecting the schedule," the assistant presenting this seemed to have a little too much fun with it, up to the point when Lando thought they were getting off on it. He saved his comments - why would he stir the pot too much? Now that he has what he wanted. This is just a charade that they will have to get through. And if all goes according to their plan, all of the people making these presentations will be very surprised one day. He was sort of looking forward to wiping their smiles off.

"talk about romance," Y/N texted Lando secretly. He chuckled and shared a look with her, as if to say "we got this".

The numbers part was where it reached the peak of weird. The pair sat, watching people calculating how much money they will make out of them sharing few kisses in public and estimating how much will this affect their marketability.

Y/N had few issues with their plan. Mainly, it seemed to avoid anything really personal. As if a relationship was only about sharing a holiday and flaunting around with family pictures. She for one hated this part and made it very clear that no family of hers will be involved. But where were the shared streams, the dinner dates and shared hotel rooms? If this was a blueprint of their relationship, then it would have been a very shit one. But then again, this was the fake dating public part - they could not control what they did in their own real relationship. But she really hoped it would not be like that.

//

Their first public scheduled public outing - a very simple coffee run together, no hiding, little cute chat and holding hands. Those were the instruction they'd received.

It was one of the rare free days between races. She woke up at his place after spending first stressless night with him after few hard days. They both woke up early, still processing the time difference.

"Hello, sunshine," he whispered, as they laid side by side, legs tangled together. He watched her attentively, studying her face as she let a smile out upon hearing him.

"I don't wanna get up," she mumbled and wiggled her way deeper into his embrace. "Let's just stay here, like this."

She was just too cute to resist, stuck somewhere between sleep and awake. So honest and unguarded. Lando hasn't felt this relaxed in years. He held her tightly as her breath tickled him in his chest.

"I'd love nothing more that to stay here, my dear. But we gotta go out today, remember?"

"But it's just so comfortable here, please," she set her voice higher than usual, as if to convince him to skip school with her.

"Don't be a little tease, otherwise I'll never get anything done ever again," he joked and pulled away a bit in order to give her few pecks on her cheek.

"I'm a tease? What a double standard," she remarked curiously, as she traced his morning wood with her fingers.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather all the morale he had in him. "I can't exactly control that," he said heavily.

"I like it. Can you be my breakfast?" she asked, suddenly full of life. She abruptly sat up on him and demonstratively licked her lips, morning hair all tangled up, no clothes or make up on. How was he supposed to resist that? She smirked as she saw his determination leave and went on to suck him off while holding his hand.

His moans were louder that what she used from him. It was like entering a different room this time. A very pretty one.

//

"Did I ever tell you that you have really beautiful eyes?" she asked all of a sudden, as they were heading towards his fridge for a premade breakfast.

He looked at her as he opened the door. "I don't think so," he answered shyly. She could melt right then and there.

Lando took out two chai bowls and put them on his table. All very casual and comfortable.

She took her first spoon and immediately noticed her favorite smell. "My chef always skips on cinnamon. He believes it's bad for the gut."

"Do you not like it?" he asked, worried he unintentionally fucked up.

She licked her spoon, reminiscing of having his cock in her mouth just moments ago. "No, I really love it. Miss it, actually."

"You need to get a different chef, what kind of a bullshit is that?"

"Life is full of bullshit, Lando."

"Well aren't you a philosopher," he teased her once again.

They made sure to be at the top of their game. Tried on few outfits, trying to find something that might fit them both, Y/N being in her full on follicular phase and focusing more on removing the outfits from him, rather than putting them on. He acted annoyed, but was over the moon she finds him attractive as well. Once they finally rolled out his apartment, they were quite sight to see.

"Do you realize we did not decide on the most important thing," she said as Lando casually walked over to the driver's seat of one of his cars.

"Hm?"

She gave him a look instead of speaking, letting him figure it out on his own.

He was usually quite oblivious to these hints, but this one dropped fast.

"Absolutely not."

"I share your sentiment, absolutely not. I know how you drive, Lando."

"More podiums than you, so I get the driver's privileges. Stop overthinking and get it the car."

It was a matter of principles - she was not going to let them fall into relationship stereotypes automatically. And also she just did not accept other people driving, making her awfully similar to Lando.

"Have we never sat in a car together before?" he lost track a bit, trying to recall any other time they'd share a car.

"Nope."

It was becoming a stare down at this point. Neither of them backing down.

"My car is parked nearby. We can go separately," she bargained, waiting for him to back off. But he saw right through her, his ego not letting him get her away with that.

He replied without blinking. "Sure. Why the hell not." She wanted him to back down and he wanted the same from her. "Do you want me to drive you to your car?"

He was mocking her and she was not having it.

"Nope, just text me the location and we'll see who gets there first," she challenged, still sort of hoping for him to fold.

"Great, I'll give you a five minute head start," and he nonchalantly sat into his car.

"Fucking idiot," she mumbled under her breath. He heard her and had to bite his lips to stop himself smiling.

She tried to race there first while not breaking that many laws and not endangering anyone, but he still won. He was standing there, leaning on his car with all his glory, as he watched her park angrily.

"Hi, baby," he greeted her and took his hat off. "Better luck next time." He gave her a mocking pseudo-sad pout.

"For each speeding ticket you'll get 30 seconds penalty," she hit him back.

"Worth it and still first," he winked. "Ready?"

"I guess so." He walked over to her and took her hand in his. Already there were few bystanders noticing them.

"We'll be ok," he reassured more himself than her probably.

"I was kinda hoping for more than that," she tried to lighten up the mood, as sudden nerves washed over her.

"You just never stop, do you," he laughed as they walked over to the café and he held the door open for her.

"You wish."

As they entered, he asked about her coffee order and made sure to memorize it for the future. If he was to be a boyfriend, he would be the best one. She kept looking to the ground as he order for both of them. He saw her slight distress and hoped that she was not regretting this - being out in the open with him. Even though their teams thought this was all fake, it was more than real for him. He would not admit this to anyone, but he was also kind of nervous. But there was not a doubt in his mind about this being worth it. She stood next to him, practically glued to his side and it felt nice as they waited for their order. He had to find a way to cheer her, main reason being that he cared about her mood and the second being their first pictures had to have looking at least little bit like having fun.

"It's actually quite exciting, isn't it?" Lando asked, unsuccessfully fighting his smile. The more he thought about them, the more was starting to like this whole thing.

"What is, Lando?" she replied, coming back to reality and locking eyes with him. It worked like magic. Within seconds, she was smitten through the roof.

He held her hand as a lover would. It was like touching a life wire. Sending impulses throughout their bodies.

"Being able to do this in public," he mumbled under his breath and stepped just a little bit closer. Time to break the rules.

He licked his lips "Ready?"

She was on the same wavelength as him. "Will this be our first kiss?" she teased, shifting towards him.

He put his arm around her waist, pushing her as close as possible. "Uhm."

"But this is ahead of the schedule they'd planned," she teased, totally on board with him.

"And you can watch me try to give a damn." There was fire dancing in his eyes. She put her arms on his chest, letting herself go into his embrace and closed her eyes, as he put his lips onto hers and kissed her. It was a gentle peck, their lips slowly brushing onto each other, the way that they had many times before. Yet, it still felt special. Carefree. Bold and confident.

There weren't many people in the cafe and the kiss wasn't exactly a long one, but it was enough. They had it documented from several angles. Y/N searched for the photos and saved them all. Neither of them quite ready for the storm coming their way.

_________________________________________

@scopeiguess @leclercsluv @sulliamour @starmanv @riverxsq @eviethetheatrefreak @chonkybonky @bicchaan @saachiep81 @chezmardybum @a-beaverhausen @tbsloneely @iamkaku @amberpanda99

[kittyplushy]

Welcome! I'm Julianne / Jenkins (they/she). I am 19 years old!

🍓 I'm Julianne / Jenkins! I'm an Multi Media Art student, amateur illustrator, self shipper, and professional silly little guy (autistic)!! I am nonbinary and a lesbian :3

🍓 This is my main blog which is an amalgamation of my art, my interests, written works, and reblogs!

🍓 Mainly a self shipping blog

🍓 Hey! I have a blog PURELY dedicated to Beneath The Trees Where Nobody Sees. Essays, fanart, fanfics, news, everything!

🍓 pssst...my comms are always opennnn!

🍓 I'm interested in animation in general, vintage and cutesy aesthetics, toys, sweets ^_^

Main Interests: (Pink text are my special interests!)

Beneath The Trees Where Nobody Sees, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Sailor Moon, Saint Young Men, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Sonic the Hedgehog, Rodney Alan Greenblat works (PaRappa, Dazzeloids, mascot projects), Sanrio, The Mountain Goats, They Might Be Giants

🍰🍰My Self Ships! 🍰🍰

💐 House Guest: 💉Samantha Strong x Julianne Lucky I am not normal about them in da slightest tehehehe! main ship

💐 Stuffed Animal: 🧸Lesley x The Illustrator secondary self ship. Lesley is still a main f/o but you can blame DHMIS for being notoriously slow on any updates.

💐Sappho Suffocating: 🍰 Working on a interfandom polycule w both f/os!

I am not comfortable with sharing of any kind! I headcanon both these characters as lesbians. Do not derail!

These tags host my ramblings, writing, headcanons, and art for these ships. I also occasionally post non-specific imagines although most are targeted towards the fem!f/o demographic...

I also post. Normal BTTWNS art and analysis which you can find here! (seriously you should read this series..)

Guess this should also go without saying but PROSHIP / COMSHIP / DARKSHIP DO NOT INTERACT.

I explore heavy subject matter due to the source media of both f/os. Heavier warning for House Guest because it gets a bit intense. Please remember that none of my ships should be read as abusive. I just enjoy exploring these complex characters through hypotheticals and am only working within what the creators have stated about their personalities.

I sometimes post suggestive text/memes/art so please block tags such as [suggestive text] or [suggestive] if ur uncomfortable or a minor.

Do not also interact if you share f/os. Please just be nice! I'm still figuring out how to sort this blog up!

My askbox is always open if you wanna chat and be friends! I love you! ;O

[riordanness]

cruel summer — [emercy] — 🫧 ᯾ 👙 ❀ 🌊 ✞ 🐚 ☘︎︎ 🫶🏻 ༄

— 🫧 ᯾ 👙 ❀ 🌊 ✞ 🐚 ☘︎︎ 🫶🏻 ༄

an emercy [perseus jackson x emma rebekah] social media au fic (part one) featuring,, percy, emma, leo, piper, jason, hazel, annabeth, and frank

— 🫧 ᯾ 👙 ❀ 🌊 ✞ 🐚 ☘︎︎ 🫶🏻 ༄

liked by abethchase, lxvepipes, and 46 others

erebekah, fyi, don’t take percy anywhere he acts like a literal toddler

sassyjackson: ok so says you

-> erebekah: me?? a toddler?? be so fr rn

lxvepipes: this is why you should take me out instead

-> erebekah: yes good let’s ditch boys together 💋

-> sassyjackson: i see how it is

abethchase: miss you idiots (sort of)

-> erebekah: BETH I HOPE TRAVELLING IS GOING SOSO WELL I MISS YOU

hzllevesque: my favourite pair of besties 💜

-> valdezinator: “besties” my ass

-> jgrace: right?? i sense a ship here i’m ngl

-> frankzhang: hazel aren’t we your favourite pair?

-> hzllevesque: ofc we are 💜 ily

liked by erebekah, jgrace, and 53 others

sassyjackson, someone tell this moron to stop blasting taylor swift in my car all the time

erebekah: someone tell this moron i can play whatever i want if i’m passenger princess actually

-> sassyjackson: emma i’m sick of cruel summer

-> erebekah: how dare you i hate you

-> sassyjackson: wait do you actual? no stop i’m sorry play taylor all you want

-> valdezinator: someone tell both of these morons they’re in love already

jgrace: where’d you guys go?

-> sassyjackson: she wanted to “go on a roadtrip” but we’re both broke so we just went to walmart

valdezinator: 🚨🚨

-> erebekah: we didn’t even speed??

-> valdezinator: no that’s the ambulance, i called them bc y’all are clearly blind if you still think you’re just friends

liked by erebekah, hzllevesque and 279 others

lxvepipes, the best day with my girl 💖 (finally stole her away from percy)

tagged, @erebekah

erebekah: I LOVE YOU

-> lxvepipes: ILYSM 💘

erebekah: hey siri play today was a fairytale by taylor swift

-> lxvepipes: no play something gayer

-> jgrace: guys 😭

sassyjackson: so this is why she won’t answer my texts

-> lxvepipes: gods jackson she isn’t yours 🙄 she was my girl first

-> valdezinator: he wishes she was his tho

-> sassyjackson: she’s literally my best friend tho??

-> valdezinator: dude. not what i meant

liked by jgrace, lxvepipes and 103 others

valdezinator, i’m sick of this weirdos

tagged, @sassyjackson @erebekah

erebekah: hey dumbass we aren’t weirdos

-> sassyjackson: yes we are

erebekah: also help how often do we fall asleep on each other 😭

-> lxvepipes: a lot babe

-> jgrace: lots

-> abethchase: if you’re the same dumb duo you were before i left, then a ridiculous amount of times

-> hzllevesque: like constantly

-> frankzhang: every single movie night

-> valdezinator: literally so much, emma

jgrace: this is for REAL a ship now i’m the captain

-> valdezinator: this is literally my post bro i’m the captain

liked by hzllevesque, sassyjackson and 107 others

erebekah, beach day with my fav beach boy 🩵

tagged, @sassyjackson

valdezinator: hey, em, you spelt ‘date’ wrong!

-> jgrace: aww beach date, how adorable

-> lxvepipes: you boys are menaces, i’m joining

sassyjackson: you’re my fav beach girl

-> frankzhang: AW

sassyjackson: 🩷

-> valdezinator: leaving her heart emojis now are we jackson

-> jgrace: what are we calling this ship they need a name

-> lxvepipes: hm something like emercy? yk, emma and percy

liked by erebekah, jgrace, and 95 others

sassyjackson, 🌊

jgrace: someone check up on emma after that shirtless pic

-> erebekah: what is that supposed to mean

-> valdezinator: 😈

-> erebekah: you boys are weirdos

hzllevesque: percy come back emma misses you

-> frankzhang: um yeah she’s kind of annoying everyone bc she doesn’t have you to annoy

-> erebekah: hey i’m not annoying

-> valdezinator: yes you are, percy just thinks it’s hot so he never says anything

erebekah: 🥵 (deleted)

lxvepipes: dang i’m ten minutes late to the post and sm drama happens in the comments already

-> sassyjackson: tempted to turn my comments off fr

-> erebekah: don’t you dare do that

liked by sassyjackson, lxvepipes, and 30 others

erebekah, 👙

sassyjackson: em

sassyjackson: emma

sassyjackson: emma rebekah i swear-

-> erebekah: 😁😁

valdezinator: oi rebekah i think you broke jackson

-> erebekah: 💥

lxvepipes: do y’all reckon this is revenge for the shirtless pic percy posted yesterday

-> jgrace: oh yea fs

-> hzllevesque: i’m jumping on this emercy train too now

-> valdezinator: the more the merrier

[oswildin]

“WELL I GUESS THAT’S WORTH A LOOK…”

FIC MASTERLIST // PLAYLISTS

ART PORTFOLIO // KO-FI (SELECTIVE COMMS OPEN)

(DO NOT REPOST MY WORK, ART OR FICS).

i mainly write for loki (mcu), but have one shots for other fandoms and characters like star wars, the boys, the last of us (hbo), the amazing spider-man, doctor who and moon knight.

My thoughts on Loki (and related media) compilation

about me

name: gigs or oswald // pronouns: she/they // age: 21+ // personality: INFP // autistic

active fandoms: marvel (mcu), doctor who, the boys tv, the mandalorian, the last of us (hbo), house of the dragon

favourite characters: loki, sylvie, nebula, agatha harkness, wanda maximoff, kate bishop, yelena belova, moon knight, tasm!peter parker, clara oswald, the master (dhawan & missy), the doctor, (fave is 12)

favourite albums: artpop (lady gaga), the family jewels (marina), vessel (twenty one pilots), too weird to live (p!atd), rise & fall (chappell roan), all my demons (aurora)

favourite song of all time: take on me - a-ha

hobbies: making music, writing poetry, making fanfics/povs, drawing (new to digital art making)

other general info: i’m autistic, have been a tumblr user since the golden days - yes i lived through superwholock lmao. love comedies (rom-coms are a guilty pleasure). favourite marvel film is, ofc, thor ragnarok (comfort film). been a loki stan since 2012/2013. favourite sit-coms have to be superstore, the office us and modern family. studied media analysis.

why is my blog called ‘what a world for a one finned goldfish’?: it’s a reference to gus from moon knight, steven’s one-finned goldfish, but also that in a way I feel like a one-finned goldfish in this weird, scary world made for neurotypicals lol.

what is my blog?: a mess lmao. i mostly come on here to reblog, stare at gifs for hours, appreciate peoples writing, fangirl and occasionally write or make stupid text posts and art.

polite asks and disclaimers

- this blog is a safe space. dni if you’re a bigot (ableist, homophobic, transphobic, racist… you get the idea, it is not welcome here.)

- no fandom drama, no ship wars, i frankly do not care nor wish to argue with strangers on the internet! personally, i think the whole thing is silly. but go off besties, just not on my posts please! be respectful. lokius & sylki shippers welcome, just be kind. i am a multi-shipper. I do not follow or engage in drama, i keep to myself. I’m within my right to block whoever I wish for whatever reasons I have, just like everyone else. it’s about curating my online experience.

- i’m open to discussion and conversation, not arguments, especially when it comes to certain characters or media or whatever. it’s okay that we have different opinions. it’s okay that you may not like something and i do. i promise, it is okay.

- please do not repost without permission - as in, copy and paste… or “steal” if you will. if you are inspired by my work, credit me. that’s all i ask.

- most of my writing is sfw and gender neutral unless specified, i do not write smut. i just can’t do it, hats off to those who write it eloquently and elegantly, truly!

- let’s all be kind to one another.

BANNERS ARE MY OWN ARTWORK

[newlabournewromantics]

okay so i'm not british (i'm just a teenage girl hungry for knowledge 😔✊) but i watched one video and as a result i've been consuming an insane amount of new labour media for the past week even though i've never been interested in uk politics besides keeping up with global news LMAO i genuinely wanna know more so where do you think i should start with books films etc 😭

hiii!! excellent question id be more than happy to help! this will be sort of an overview with general recs for newlab beginners (why am I treating this like its a profession omg) so just lmk if you want more specific recs + I've highlighted my favs

books (from the outside)

(by from the outside I mean written by people not directly involved in newlab, so historians/journalists etc)

the two classic newlab texts are servants of the people and the end of the party, both by andrew rawnsley from the observer. provide nice, extensive but not overly fussy histories of newlab from opposition to 2010. good balance of gossip and actual information!

my personal favourite is rivals by james naughtie (bbc reporter), I find the prose in it far more compelling than any other book on this list.

brown's britain (robert peston) is also very good!

you've mentioned that you're not from the UK, so I really really really would recommend reading a book/a few articles on the broader history of the British Labour Party, just so you can understand why newlab was so revolutionary. I quite like keeping the red flag flying

autobiographies/diaries/books from ppl directly involved:

(these will inevitably be more biased)

the new machiavelli by jonathan powell is my absolute favourite self-written newlab book - and you might learn some stuff ant machiavelli whilst ur at it so this is an essential imo

my life our times by gordon brown is another one I really enjoyed, although it's less gossipy than some of the other books on this list. admittedly I do agree with basically everything gordon brown has ever said so this is a very biased review, but I would give it a go!

obviously alastair campbell wrote a load of diaries. I would be careful with which volumes you choose to get - go for the ones published 2010 and onwards bc he made the choice to omit stuff from the first few volumes he published so that it wouldn't' hurt gordon's premiership. also, they're really long and really extensive, so pick which volumes you want to read based on which specific period of newlab you find yourself drawn to!

as a comms/polling fan (boo) I really liked unfinished revolution by philip gould, but this might not be the best book to start with.

damian mcbride's power trip (more diaries) is also interesting

big fan of point of departure by robin cook asw!

I found tony's books excruciating to read but that's bc im crazy and think I know the inside of his mind like its my own so they might be good for you. his new book is FASCINATING but only in the sense of it exposing how big his messiah complex is. don't read any of his books if you're not down to hear about sex and/or technology.

oh a note: mandelson has written books but I don't like him so im not going to recommend them <3

tv/film

tony and gordon aren't really all that into big heartfelt chats about newlab, esp not together, but a few good docs have been made

blair and brown: the new labour revolution (bbc, 2021) - this is a classic, it's where I got my newlab start as a tender sixteen year old politics student u can't beat it! watch this one first

the blair years (bbc 2007)

out of the shadows and we are the treasury (here and here)

blair's thousand days (1 2)

if you're into tbgb, please please please watch the deal. I don't like much of the michael sheen as blair content, but the deal (2003) is so good.

if you want me to rec bits of tv from the newlab years that I think r cool and worth watching then send another ask and ill tell u! but obv theyre not much use if you're just getting into newlab :)

alastair did interviews with tony and ed miliband 6/7 years ago. not all about newlab, but very interesting to watch and observe the dynamics!

podcasts

matt forde of the political party has done interviews with a lot of newlab figures, from tony all the way to the more junior spads. I especially like the joint one he did with ed balls and alastair campbell, and the first tony one. these r less good for actually learning facts about newlab but really like listening to them as a way to sort of get into these ppls heads and observe them in a more casual setting. also a gordon interview asw !

if you can bear listening to george osborne talk (I can but others r more sensible) then political currency is also a good place to get lil tidbits of newlab gossip, bc ed balls is one of the hosts and he's super messy he loves chatting abt gordon.

ideology/boring stuff etc!

ok u can ignore this section if you want but these r some books about the ideology that underpinned newlab - I think it's fascinating!

the third way by giddens (literally the newlab bible and I think the only theory that blair took seriously)

crosland’s the future of socialism!! influenced gb and caused so much internal labour drama so evidently its excellent

if you want a really interesting essay on Iraq I recommend this

podcast on centrism that touches a lot on clinton/newlab/blair etc

oh and just for fun!!!!! here's a playlist of all the songs written canonically actually irl about tony blair.

lmk if you want any other recs!!!!!

[thejoyofseax]

SCA Social Media

Aside from being a cooking nerd, I'm also very interested in communications and information flow. It would be reasonable to say that inasmuch as a Pelican is awarded for any one thing, I got mine in comms and diplomacy. (Or at least, I assume so; I don't have visibility on the discussions the Pelican circle had about me pre-elevation.) I'm also Drachenwald's social media minister.

There's a thing I see cropping up recently among Facebook users in the various social media: a strongly stated dislike of Discord. For context, there's a shift underway in Drachenwald for the bulk of day to day communications, from Facebook to Discord. Discord has a wide range of technical advantages over Facebook, and it's more used by the younger generations who are (gradually) taking over running things from the older folks. But there are many people who will happily state that they hate Discord.

I don't like Facebook, myself. It was a decent enough medium in about 2014; it has gotten worse in every measurable way since (except shareholder value, of course). It's particularly useless for trying to get information to people; every part of it is governed by an algorithm that selects what to show on any given screen, based mostly on what will annoy them most (annoyance leads to more time spent looking at the screen than any other emotion, ergo more time looking at ads, ergo more money for Meta).

Discord (at present; I make zero long-term predictions, and fully expect it to start getting worse at some point) has no such issues - the information flow on it is under the control of the server admin, pretty much, and it's searchable and categorisable as needed. Also, I just like the feel of Discord more; it's a lot more like a real conversation than Facebook's shouting-across-the-corporate-lobby atmosphere.

But this dislike of the new medium isn't new. Humans, for all we're supposed to like novelty, dislike change. I wrote as a comment in one of the discussions on Facebook:

"Facebook was massively polarising when it first started, because it was "taking over" from discussion lists. Discussion lists were massively polarising when they first started because they were taking over (assume scare quotes from here on) from newsgroups and phone trees. Phone trees and newsgroups were absolutely HATED when they started, taking over from paper newsletters (some of which were from before printing and photocopying was a thing, and were produced by mimeographic printing). If I dig around, I can find things written by Crusty Old Peers at each stage of this maintaining that the New Thing Will Destroy The SCA."

And you can extend that beyond the SCA right back to Plato complaining that the written word will prevent people from learning properly as they did in oral traditions.

My current position on this is that we should be using our websites - which are the one medium we actually "own", generally - as the source of actual information. We can then link to that from anywhere else on the internet, social or not. And the conversations can fall where they may, for each branch and household and other grouping, because honestly, that's how it's always been. If people don't like Discord, they don't have to use it, and it's only us unfortunate comms people who have to use all the different media.

(I recognise the irony of posting this on Another Social Medium. But Tumblr behaves more like a website for publication purposes, and comes with many of the advantages for getting information to people - RSS feeds, deep linking, etc.)

I'm also going to teach some classes on how to actually use Discord, I think. I've been steeped in talkers, IRC, and other channel-and-text media as long as I've been online, which is closing on 30 years now, so there are almost certainly aspects of functionality there that I take for granted and which are not evident to people unused to it. Or they're expecting it to work the same way as Facebook does, and don't have the technical experience to jump to a different medium. Either way, a start-with-the-basics actual-demonstration of how to use it is almost certainly useful.

[elmaxlys]

could you look at the translation differences for "It's better to be hurt than to hurt people?" it's kind of basic, but i've always found it to be a heavy line, though imo it sounds kind of awkward and clunky in english

Good old classic!

After googling for hours I could not find a single source for that phrasing. Even when I checked the anime, the subs I got were (albeit extremely similar) not a word for word of this infamous quote that gets reposted along with extremely wrong quotes like "why should I apologize for being a monster". The dub is different as well - and the manga is another beast entirely.

For the sake of context - as it explains the phrasing - I kept the lines around it. When it comes to the manga, I took the entirety of what Mrs Kaneki says in that first page of ch61. As for the anime, I also grabbed the two lines that come before, spoken by Mrs Kaneki, as they're what comes in the middle of the two famous sentences in the manga, but right before in the anime.

Here are the different phrasings I found:

The Repost: It's better to be hurt than to hurt people. Nice people can be happy with just that.

The line in the manga:

Viz Media: Be somebody who knows pain instead of somebody who hurts others. You don't need to be rewarded if you have love and kindness in your heart, Ken. That's all kind people need to be happy.

Twisted Hel Scans: Instead of a person who hurts others, become the person who gets hurt. It is okay if you lose because of your love and kindness, Ken. A kind person only needs those things in order to be happy.

Leo Scans: Rather than a person who hurts others, become the person getting hurt. It's all right to lose out with love and warm feelings, Ken. A kind person finds happiness in just that.

Glénat: Au lieu de blesser ton prochain, essaie plutôt de comprendre sa douleur. Tu auras tout gagné si tu fais preuve d'amour et de gentillesse, Ken... même si cela semble aller contre tes intérêts. Car à elle seule, la gentillesse permet de connaître le bonheur. (Rather than harming your neighbour, try to understand their pain instead. You will have won everything if you show love and kindness, Ken... even if it seems to go against your own interests. Because kindness on its own makes you able to know happiness.)

The line in the anime:

English subs: (Mrs Kaneki) Ken, it's okay to feel loss. Nice boys like you can be happy with just that. (Ken) It's better to be hurt than hurt others. People who are nice can he happy with just that.

English dub: (Mrs Kaneki) Ken, it's okay to feel sadness from loss. As long as you remember to stay kind, you'll find joy again. (Ken) It's far better to feel pain yourself than to inflict it on others. As long as you remain kind, you will find joy again.

French subs: (Mme Kaneki) Ken, tu peux être perdant. Les gens gentils sont heureux comme ça. (Ken) Il vaut mieux être blessé que blessant. Les gens gentils sont heureux comme ça. (Ken, you can lose. Nice people are happy that way. || Being hurt is better than being hurtful. Nice people are happy that way.)

French dub: (Mme Kaneki) Ken, ce n'est pas grave de perdre. Les garçons gentils comme toi peuvent vivre avec et être heureux. (Ken) Il vaut bien mieux être le blessé que celui qui blesse. Les gens gentils l'acceptent et sont heureux comme ça. (Ken, losing is not a big deal. Nice boys like you can live with that and be happy. || It's way better to be the hurt one than the one who hurts. Nice people accept that and are happy that way.)

So as you could see, they all talk about loss, pain and their relation to happiness - but they do so in different ways. Sometimes the change is subtle, sometimes it's glaringly obvious and makes you wonder if they're translating the same text (looking at Glénat).

To hurt, or not to hurt, that is the question:

This is the main point. What drove Mrs Kaneki to overwork herself, what pushed Ken to accept abuse from her and everyone else. What if he hurts their feelings if he speaks up? Better to shut up and endure. Again. And again. Until he can't anymore (Shironeki). Until it's back (Haise). Until he can't anymore (Black Reaper). Until it's back (Kingneki). Until he can't anymore (Dragon). Until he doesn't care anymore.

The panel will be relevant in the analysis, you'll see! Because both this quote and this panel fuel my understanding of Kaneki's character journey: freeing himself from motherly teachings (all mothers)

[readmore because what the fuck did this become holy shit]

The repost, "It's better to be hurt than to hurt people.", is concise and straight to the point. This is, after all, what makes the best repostable quotes as they're easy to remember. I am unsure where this phrasing began but it's no wonder it's the one that took off and remains in the collective mind The Quote associated with Kaneki (other than made up quotes RIP). This conciseness is probably what makes it come across as clunky: no space for weaving words into something pretty. I want to say it's boring but there are the opposition between the passive and active voice and the comparative that are worth looking into.

For people who don't know anything about grammar or don't have that stuff in their language, in the active voice the subject acts the verb, while in the passive voice the subject undergoes the action of the verb. When transposing a line from active to passive, the subject of the passive is the object of the active.

Example: Donato kills children. -> active voice. Subject: Donato. Object: children. VS Children are killed by Donato. -> passive voice. Subject: the children. Donato? the agent (aka the one who actually does the action of the verb)

You get it? Now let's go back to our sheep goats:

What this sentence says is that, above the verb of "hurt", it's more advantageous to be passive in your own life. Action incurs risks beyond your direct control - but by being passive, you know exactly what's coming at any time.

The comparative is interesting too. It's better. It's a comparative of superiority. There are three forms of comparative: superiority, inferiority and equality. Here, equality wouldn't work anyway as a hierarchy is established between the action and the passivity. But what's interesting about the use of the comparative of superiority here is that it puts passivity on a pedestal, lifts it above the action. It paints it as good. And more than good, better. With a comparative of inferiority, "it's worse to hurt than being hurt", it says that both actions are bad but one is clearly under the other and therefore you should prioritize the 2nd, aka being hurt. It would acknowledge the bad parts of the passivity while saying that there are more bad parts in the other option so better choose that one. Here, it goes the other way around. Being hurt is pushed onto the reader and Kaneki, it's not a reluctant choice by deduction of what's the least bad option here.

Kaneki has no choice here. He didn't even actively choose passivity, it was pushed onto him: that's saying how passive he is.

I'm gonna jump straight at the English subs. Why? Because the phrasing is very, very similar. Probably where the quote originates. As a reminder, "It's better to be hurt than hurt others." What differences? 1) no "to" in front of hurt -> I admit I do not know enough about English grammar to comment this, but I'll still comment the effect it has aurally. 2) "others" and not "people".

Let's start with the first difference. I said I'd comment on the sounds so here goes: "to" is a word comprised of two letters, one vowel and one consonant. That consonant is "t", which is an occlusive (or plosive). An occlusive is a sudden, more or less brutal sound, that cannot be maintained. As a result, it sounds harsh. Consonants work by two: one voiced (using vocal cords), one voiceless (without using vocal cords). Voiceless consonants tend to sound harsher. Compare g and k. Compare t and d. Compare b and p. These are the plosives. K, T and P sound harsher. So let's look at the sentences. I'll put the plosives in red. Repost: It's better to be hurt than to hurt people. EN subs: It's better to be hurt than hurt others.

Do you see where I'm going with this? Removing a "to" and swapping "people" for "others" removes a brutal aspect. And see in what part of the sentence it happens? In the part about not being the one to hurt. Even the language adapts to that. Beautiful.

That overabundance of plosive in the repost probably contribute to the clunky feeling but can also be seen as alliteration to represent the hurt, like it definitely in the subs version, since they disappear when we move from the self onto others.

Speaking of which, what about "others"? The way I perceive it, "others" puts a distance between the enunciator and whom they're talking about, while "people" is just completely general. You mustn't hurt people: don't hurt anyone. You mustn't hurt others: don't hurt people who are not you. So of course, on top of going well with the softening of the sounds, it enhances the message wonderfully. It's okay to be hurt but people who aren't you better not be, you hear me? Don't retaliate.

Additionally, I can't help but think, when I seen "than to hurt people", about what Kaneki says when fighting Furuta: he'll save people, and ghouls too. In which case, people means humans - and that'd go for the repost as well. After all, Kaneki never had much trouble decimating ghouls!

Now we're moving onto... The French subs! as a reminder, "Il vaut mieux être blessé que blessant", aka "It's better to be hurt than hurting." We're starting with a complaint about the English language because hurt can both mean something and its opposite. For real this TG sentence could be "it's better to hurt than to hurt" and I hate that I love that it's a possibility. Language is amazing. Parenthesis closed, let's move on. The first part can be analyzed the same as before with the comparison. But there is more and there are subtleties that make my brain sparkle tho so let's dig!

Literally, "valoir" (conjugated here as "vaut") means being worth. We use it with the impersonal and comparative to mean basically the same thing as "it's better" but the literal translation of "it's better" is "c'est mieux". "ce" -> neutral demonstrative, "est" -> is, "mieux" -> comparative of superiority of bien (good). So why use "valoir", here? Because, unlike "c'est" which comes across as objective, "il vaut" introduces subjectivity. It is worth for the person talking.

Now onto my favorite part of that sentence: the polyptoton!! For people who don't know it's the repetition of the same word root but with a different ending/form/nature. Here? "blessé" and "blessant". They are both forms of the verb "blesser", which means "to hurt" (as in "inflict harm" and not "suffer"). Both are in the participle form: blessé is the past participle and blessant is the present participle. Used with the verbe être (be), they are verbal adjectives (basically adjectives but coming from a verb). And as verbal adjectives, the past participle expresses the action as passive while the present participle expresses the action as active. We already talked about the active and passive so it's the same thing here as before, really, but with a wonderful aural addition, the polyptoton.

Did you notice something with the French subs? There's no object to that second "hurt", blessant. Unlike with the conjugated verb blesser which takes a direct object, here, a complement would have to be introduced with "envers" (toward). There is none. The sentence ends here. So what effect does that have on our sentence? It makes it general. In general, it's worth more being hurt than hurting. No exception. No precision. It sounds like a proverb (which the polyptoton really helps btw lol).

Now that the anime subs are out of the way, let's look at... the anime dubs! French dub first because it's very similar to the subs. "Il vaut bien mieux être le blessé que celui qui blesse." So what differences? 1) the intensive adverb "bien"! 2) substantivated past participle 3) relative clause as a circumlocution of sorts.

We'll start with the intensive adverb "bien". Bien can mean a variety of things and can even be various natures. Most of the time, as an adverb, it tends to express the manner, and as such it can be translated as "well". But here, it's an intensive. It reinforces the adjective that follows it and can be translated by "far", "much" or "way" when followed by a comparative like is the case here (and as "very" when a positive, if you're curious). This sentence is strong. Not only does it use the verb valoir and its subjective lense but also it accentuates it with the intensive. We're not in the proverb category anymore, we're in the moral lessons.

Now for the next change. Remember past participle of blesser? "blessé"? Can be used as adjective and therefore becomes "verbal adjective"? Well this bad boy can also become a noun. This procedure is named substantiviation. It serves to designate a general category of people doing or undergoing the action of the verb. "le blessé" therefore means "the one who is hurt". Now why use that? See, with the definite article, we're reducing the range, we're saying there's only one. We know the conflict we're talking about, we know the kind of person we're talking about. It's no longer a state you're in at that precise moment like with the adjective: no, the noun reduces you to that specific state of being. If you are "le blessé", there's no getting out of that label. You are hurt and you forever will be because it is now your core qualificative.

This is particularly interesting when paired with what comes right after: the relative clause to designate "the one who hurts". A relative clause can be either descriptive or defining: here is clearly the second. But while it does put a label on "celui" (the one), it is not inescapable like a substantive, this is - albeit a defining one - an add on to who you are. You can stop hurting other people, but you can't stop being hurt by others.

This is interesting because "celui qui blesse" and "le blessé", both singular, one substantive, the other demonstrative pronoun, create a dichotomy, but the relative clause can make you question the legitimacy of this dichotomy.

Now, are you getting tired of the passive VS active opposition? Fear not, the English dub doesn't use that! "It's far better to feel pain yourself than to inflict it on others." Two active verbs, we love to see it!

We still find the usual comparative of superiority with the intensive "far", nothing new, so I'll be fast: comparative of superiority paints the action as positive, pushes it onto the viewer, doesn't acknowledge its negative aspects. The intensive pushes that three notches upward and basically paints it as the only viable option, pushing the sentence into the "moral lessons" category.

Okay now let's look at the novelty! "feel pain". There's nothing passive about this. Sure, it's not an "action" as we would ordinarily describe it but the voice isn't passive and that's important. You cannot "be hurt" without an outside force, that's the nature of the passive voice. Here, feelings can happen on its own. It is not necessarily something caused by outside factors, it can be sadness, it can be sickness, it can be twisting your ankle, it doesn't matter anyway: what's important is the resulting action: feeling.

Feeling is something personal, subjective. You can't physically share your feelings. Every individual will feel differently. Dumb example but I'm thinking about the "menstrual cramps simulators" where people who were used to them were like "whatever" while others were writhing on the floor in agony. This idea is reinforced with the pronoun "yourself".

Here's what's fun about "yourself": it implies that the pain you would have inflicted onto others is now inflicted on you and if you don't feel the pain yourself it gets thrown onto others, and not necessarily the people who've cause you this hurt (aka vengeance), no we're looking at the cycle of violence here.

And while "feeling" is a pretty neutral verb, "inflict" is very much not! It's not even trying to be subtle, especially paired with the comparative etc we talked about before. This is a strong sentence, every bit of itself reinforcing the others, this sentence is unshakable, I love it in its structure and the implications are lovely when it comes to characterization: if Mrs Kaneki isn't hurting, it's her sister who is - and the pain she gives Ken is her failure to feel that pain herself. It's the cog of the vicious circle expressed wonderfully in this sentence.

We're now done with the anime, which is the way most people saying that sentence experienced Tokyo Ghoul. But what about the original? By original I mean manga - and not Japanese, that I haven't learnt in the time between starting this post and writing these words.

We're starting with my favorite scan group: Twisted Hel Scans. Here is what they write: "Instead of a person who hurts others, become the person who gets hurt." Boom, we're entering something entirely new and all the manga translations follow that: "instead of/rather than" and not a comparative of superiority. Did the anime not use the line from the manga? I wonder. But this is not our topic. We're discussing the impact of each of them.

What does "instead" bring that the comparative doesn't and vice-versa? "instead" acknowledge the other option. It's redirecting. It sees the path laid in front and says "hey look at that other path over there". It's guiding but not forceful. It gives you a choice by putting the two options on the same level. No moral value put on one or the other.

It's guiding in the sense that it uses an imperative. "Instead" brings to the imperative the notion of tip or counsel, and not an order, especially when we look at the verb used. It's not a random imperative, no! It's "become". It's a stative verb, not an action. It's a change of being. You have the choice to change or not. You currently are either "a person who hurts others" or at the crossroads to decide which one you get to be.

Now here's what I love with this translation: the articles. "a person who hurts others", "the person who gets hurt". There are countless people hurting others, they are faceless, indefinite, we don't care. But there is only one person getting hurt. Implied here is the people who hurt inflict that hurt on The Person. Everyone is hurting the same person, who then becomes the victim, the recipient of everyone else's violence, like a scapegoat. Someone will have to suffer anyway: choose on what side of that suffering you want to be.

Leo Scans says almost the same thing: "Rather than a person who hurts others, become the person getting hurt." The differences are "rather than" and the gerund instead of the relative clause. As far as I could search I couldn't find any difference in meaning between the relative and participial clauses in such cases so that's that.

However, unlike THS, Leo says "rather than" and not "instead of". As I said, "instead" offers you the choice to change - "rather", on the other hand, expresses an opinion, and even more than that: a preference. Indeed, as you can see from the -er suffix, rather is originally a comparative. And what did we say about the comparative? That's right. Subjective. It doesn't behave like "better" we saw earlier, though. In fact, it does the opposite: it pushes one option down, puts it in negative light before elevating the other. Leo phrasing has contempt for the people who hurt others while THS phrasing sounds more neutral.

Are you ready for the official translations? I'm starting with Viz Media because Glénat is pretty different from all the translations until now. Viz Media's phrasing was as follow "Be somebody who knows pain instead of somebody who hurts others." Aah~ do you see it? Difference.

Starting with the first word, because that's how sentences work: "be"! Wonderful, wonderful "be"! Imperative! Stative verb! But not one that expresses a change, like "become" we saw earlier, no! no, it's the OG. It doesn't accept a previous state of being nor a state of becoming, no. This imperative is doesn't call for growth or change, it calls to be. Static, unchanging. Definite.

This time, no substantivation, no article: only indefinite pronoun + relative clause, both times. No difference of treatment grammatically between the two options. Both options are equally represented: there's no power imbalance, no change of meaning hinging on the smallest word, no. The frequency of both parts is the same. The parallel construction is gorgeous and the balance is completed with the somewhat neutral "instead of": giving a hint, maybe already placing you in the other basket and telling you to get out, but placing no preference grammatically.

Another big change is "knows pain" and not "gets hurt" and variations. This one is no passive action: on the contrary it's a call to reflection and knowledge, an invitation. Is the knowledge physical as implied in all the other phrasings we've encountered? Is it an academic kind of knowledge as Mrs Kaneki cultivates her son's love for reading? Is it a matter of empathy?

While Viz lets us ponder the meaning of that "know", Glénat is definite in its answer: "Au lieu de blesser ton prochain, essaie plutôt de comprendre sa douleur."

We immediately focus on the second part of the sentence "comprendre sa douleur" (understand [your neighbor]'s pain) because that's what we stopped on the previous one. Glénat doesn't give Mrs Kaneki the benefit of the doubt: it makes her completely reasonable. She insists on empathy. She doesn't mean "oh yeah go be bullied no problem", she says to try to understand people, what makes them the way they are, what is hurting them to cause them to act that way - and so Ken understands his mother's pain and therefore understands why she's so violent with him. This one is not a call to passivity at all. Interestingly, it doesn't actually say anything about action.

"au lieu de" is "instead" pretty much word for word, but it's paired with "plutôt" which is "rather" pretty much word for word again. So there is an insistance on the imperative.. And what does that imperative say? "be"? "become"? No. Not a stative verb this time. No passive either. We have "try". This is important as it allows failure. You can't always understand people who hurt you and that's okay but you should always try to understand what hurt them. Active and, I want to say, way more difficult than the passivity the other ones called for.

Then there's "ton prochain"... I translated as "your neighbour" as "ton prochain" is almost only ever found in religious context nowadays "aime ton prochain comme toi-même" for example and the way I keep finding that sentence in English is "love your neighbour as yourself". So Glénat's translation is loaded with religious subtext. And may I remind everyone what a religious "neighbour" is? The one who helps you in your time of need, the one that takes pity. This is no random "others" or "people" like the English translations, no this is very specific: don't hurt people who mean you well.

Glénat's translation is diametrically opposite to the others, as Glénat does: no notion of experiencing the hurt, no notion of not hurting anyone, no absolutism. Basically love your neighbour 2.0, with a added subtext that mommy is the neighbour and if she hurts you then you'd better try to understand why before you make it worse.

Glénat's translation is the one that made me add this picture of Kingneki talking to Furuta, dismissing his hurt, his reasons, to act the way he does: in that moment, Kaneki discards the motherly teachings and doesn't try to care anymore. He doesn't care to be hurt either. He doesn't care not to hurt others. He's already killed countless, what's one more. He takes priority on his "neighbor" indeed but he doesn't try to understand them and their pain either (leaving Touka on the sidelines again and again and over again for example).

This feels a tad jumbled for a conclusion but hey! this is a conclusion jumbling all 9 translations, give me a pass, will you?

[that-one-thespian]

The Mages Were Missing

(There's still an hour left in my VERY good friend @crash-bump-bring-the-whump's birthday so I'm NOT late! This is the first of several writes in response to this incredible piece)

Izan hadn’t answered her texts. Mariano hadn’t come over after his shift like he always did. Laredo had missed a stream. Manuel didn’t come to the date that Fletcher was so excited for. Individual incidents, happening too quickly to be coincidence, made even more suspicious when Wren looked into Dimitri and realized there had been no activity on his social media. No matter how bad it was, he always posted a picture of his hideous dog in various outfits every day. 

The mages were missing. 

Tracking them down took too long. Way too long. Wren pored over security camera footage of their last known locations. The coffee shop, convenience stores, laundromats, she filtered through their cameras, finding nothing. Hours of footage. Nothing. Blind spots, erased footage, convenient glitches in the security systems. She needed a new tactic.

Police reports. Fire department logs. Dimitri was aggressive above all else, there would be an arson report, a burning building, a noise complaint, something.

After hours of searching for clues, she finally found a report. A burning hedge, near Dimitri’s apartment. 9:27 AM. Going back to her security footage, she scrubbed to that timestamp for the convenience store closest to the address. Blind spot. Someone knew she would be looking. There was only one person that clever, that surgical, and who had a bone to pick with each one of the war mages. She tried to keep tabs on him, but she could usually only narrow it down to the city he was in.

Luis was back.

Not for long, now that Wren was on the hunt. 

She scoured car rental agencies, setting her software to scan highway footage for similar cars to the ones just barely in her field of vision in the security footage, searching the previous footage for more images of the car to narrow things down. Her coffee drained from its mug. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. 

On her sixth hour of searching, she found his newest alias: Juan Herrero. John Smith, really? Beneath the anxiety and steely determination, she let herself feel a flash of derision. Finally, finally, she found the rental cabin under his name, booked at a steal because the owners were remodeling the basement. 

Wren whistled, loud enough to fill the clinic, and grabbed the car keys.

It was time to get their mages back. 

~

Wren stood at the back of the group, checking her tablet as Fletcher worked at the lock on the cabin's front door. The comms were working, but she couldn't guarantee there wouldn't be some sort of device to jam their signals.

Archer stood directly behind Fletcher, looking murderous. He always did, when Luis was involved. "Luis is crafty. We can't let him separate us. We-"

Several things happened in the same instant.

Click.

"I got it!"

Fletcher pushed open the door.

Fletcher yelped.

Fletcher was gone.

"Fletch-" Archer reached for him, but his solid metal hand closed over empty air. The team was left staring into a dark foyer, listening to the fading footsteps echoing off the walls.

Archer cursed under his breath. "It's a trap." He ran inside without another word, his expression somehow even more murderous. "Elana-"

"Here!" Elana thundered after him into the dark, leaving only Jewel and Wren on the doorstep.

"So much for don't get separated." Jewel looked hesitantly at Wren. "We should find the mages, while we know Luis is... occupied."

Wren nodded, pressing forward into the darkness.

~

Frozen hinges reluctantly yielded, screeching as Wren braced her back against the door and forced it open. She had to cover her face at the rush of cold, blinking against it.

Fluorescent lights flickered above them, dimly illuminating bleached hair and red, blistered, frost-crusted palms. 

Dimitri laid there on the floor, unmoving.

Jewel rushed into the freezer, cupping his cheek with one hand and putting two fingers at his neck with the other. “I’ve got a pulse. Help me get him up, we need to get him outside."

He wasn’t even shivering anymore. Even from the doorway, Wren could see the scorch marks on his hands. He must have been trying to keep warm using his magic alone, without any focus or gloves to protect him. 

When she grabbed his shoulder to lift him up, Wren startled. Dimitri’s eyes were open, locked on hers with the exhausted, terrified focus of someone who expected to be left behind.

“R… ru-run.”

Wren felt a chill run down her spine.

“We know it’s Luis. Archer and Elana are on him. We’re going to get you out of here, just hang on.” Jewel wrapped her jacket around Dimitri’s shoulders.

“C-care…ful.” Dimitri’s voice was hoarse, strained. Each syllable scraped past his lips like the hinges Wren had forced to move against their will. “Said… hid- hidden.”

“I can find them.” Jewel’s voice was level as she helped him to a sitting position. That was how they found Dimitri in the first place- Jewel had nearly collapsed from the force of the despair when they got close enough.

Wren slid his arm around her shoulders, flinching from the frozen clothes against her neck. It took too long to get him outside, to drape a blanket over him and give him a water bottle that he clutched to his chest. Every second was another second where Archer and Elana and Fletcher faced down Luis.

They still had four war mages to find.

[ladytauria]

Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Words: 2.5k Tags: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Demons, Demon AU, Incubus Jason Todd, Getting Together, Kissing, Psychic Bond, Fluff

Tim doesn’t let Jason touch him.

semi-inspired by SalParadiseLost’s Demon!AU.

the first draft of this was written to comfort myself around a pretty negative anniversary. it helped a little <3 since then it’s just been waiting for me to wrap a cohesive narrative around it, which i think (hope) i’ve finally done.

title comes from work song by hozier, which i’ve listened to a totally normal amount of times <3

Tim doesn’t let Jason touch him.

It’s true he’s not the most overtly tactile person, but he’s open with his affection to those who want it. He soaks up Dick’s hugs like a flower soaks up sunshine. Duke receives his fair share of hugs and shoulder pats—and Damian will take a post patrol fist-bump these days… or a hair ruffle, if he’s in a particularly good mood. Even Bruce gets a hug or, more often, their shoulders and arms end up pressed together as they work on cases. 

As for Steph and Cass—well. The three of them seem to disregard the idea of personal space when together, piling atop each other like kittens.

The only exception is… Jason.

He knows he has no right to be bothered by it, especially since outside of that, their relationship is great. When Jason was first integrated into the patrol schedule, Tim was among the first to volunteer to pair with him. He never hesitates to work cases with him or rely on him for back-up—at least, not that Jason has ever seen. He banters with Jason, over comms and over dinner; includes him in conversations, no matter how trivial. He’ll even call or text Jason, randomly, just to chat; to vent about his day or ask Jason’s opinion on some stupid argument he’s having with one of his friends.

They’re close, in all ways except physical.

It’s more than he deserves.

[woodsdyke]

got a bunch of new followers so hi. im forest. i live in washington. i was a sociologist but im making a major career change into natural resources management. i'm an illustrator who draws mainly historical ocs and nature landscapes and the occasional weird bug. im an outdoors dyke and post a lot of my hiking photos, have Antique Glassware and Houseplants Autism, and once caught a fish with my hands

my commissions are open if you'd like some art. my other social media links and comms info are all here, along with places to get stickers and prints [X]

my text posts are tagged 🌲.txt and art is #draws. also feel free to send asks but promise you won't be weird about it. you have to promise.

thanks. welcome to my house🌲

[singguks]

city of hearts, ep. 1 ❤️‍🩹 taehyung

synopsis. having experienced a fateful romance by the beach, taehyung sets out on a quest through seoul's bustling streets to locate the woman who has stolen his heart.

pairing. taehyung x oc

genre. social media auㆍgamedesigner!tae ( angst. fluff. smut. )

word count. 5623

warnings. adulthood romance things cof cof implicit

a/n. i couldn't possibly start another au, but she said the word and so i did. happy birthday to my bestie, whom i'd love to see more often even though we talk every day ☆ thank you for being my person through and through ! this is my love letter to you, miss bubbles ♡

episodes. 01 ▸ 02 ▸ 03

▸ E1: True or False?

One day we got curious as to how men and women date in this city. To satisfy our curiosity, we discussed the beginning of a new project, that required us to follow the lives of several men and women in Seoul.

For it to be real, we won’t intervene in their lives. Only when we think it’s necessary, we will share their answers with others, or maybe edit them to make this entertaining—all the while keeping their original words. 

It’s worth telling that fifty individuals around Seoul were chosen for this project. Still, they will all be participating with nicknames to protect their privacy—as we usually do when it comes to the internet. They all had to promise to treat their phones as their friends, as well as the app we developed where we will be posting questions, and telling only the truth. 

But some answers and behaviors made us wonder if they indeed were telling us like it really is.

[ note that some of their answers will be through text, others, like this one, will be taken as voice notes. all voices undergo a modification due to privacy issues. ]

ılı.lıl taehyung: I’m the cool type… and uhm, gentle. Definitely not clingy. I’m cool. 

ılı.lıl deo: I keep true to myself when I date… and when I break up too. 

ılı.lıl kie: I’d say I fall in and out of love pretty fast. What can I say? I’m passionate. *chuckles* And if I have to break up, I just do it. I won’t dwell much. 

ılı.lıl yoongi: What’s even the point of getting laid? *tsk* It’s a hassle… 

ılı.lıl jin: I’m not one to play games. I don’t like that. I think overall I’m a pretty good guy. 

ılı.lıl harin: Before my current boyfriend, well, I think I dated around uhm… Four men? No, three…? Wait. Let me retake this just once! *laughs* 

So, whether the participants are telling the truth… well, we will let you be the judge of that. 

⫰

Sort by Oldest first ↓

boreo 🤔

bluengrey For me, it’s women I can have fun with.

boreo men that I can talk to?

⤷ callmerinie huh? talking isn’t everything

tangerimin A physical connection, people. 

supertuna Are you asking what I think you’re asking?

notmekeys why are you all acting so innocent? kkk

boreo oh- 

tangerimin Why can’t you all say it? It’s just whatever. Just say it. You know, like bang!

⤷ boreo i got it now. 

callmerinie 🤭

callmerinie and cut~!

boreo so if it’s about intimacy..

⤷ notmekeys i think i know just by the smell. you know, it’s all about pheromones

supertuna Doesn’t it depend on the man? At least I think so. 

⤷ callmerinie wow! really? you’re giving yourself too much credit. 😒

bluengrey Uhm.. Usually I take the lead if it’s about that. 

⤷ boreo uh-huh. do you really? 

⤷ bluengrey Ok. Fine. There was this one time that I followed the girl’s lead. 

⤷ bluengrey One time, okay? 

⤷ boreo doubt it

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bluengrey Dating? I don’t think so

⤷ supertuna No. I think it is. 

boreo dating really changed my point of view about that

tangerimin If you guys are putting it that way, I’ve dated many women. I loved it every time. 

⤷ callmerinie aww… and what the girls had to say about this?

⤷ notmekeys about men? well, you know. they are all the same: trash. 

⤷ boreo not all… i mean. there’s someone i know that wasn’t 

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boreo yes. there is someone i can’t forget. 

bluengrey I do. 

Load more comments

[ note that this request was sent privately to users bluengrey and boreo and we edited the sequence of their answers according to our own motives and the following questioning. ]

ılı.lıl deo: It happened one year ago…

ılı.lıl taehyung: She was the only one I could see. Like I was just gravitating in her orbit… Like we were in a world of our own. I felt complete. 

ılı.lıl deo: I felt this spark every time I would catch him staring at me and then I simply couldn’t look away.

ılı.lıl taehyung: Back then I thought “Wah, this is what love feels like” *chuckles sadly*

ılı.lıl deo: I’ll always remember him. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: If that is really the case… I don’t think someone ends a relationship if they feel that way. 

ılı.lıl deo: It was my fault. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: You know, it was my fault… 

ılı.lıl taehyung: No… It’s true, she messed it up. 

ılı.lıl deo: I won’t make excuses.

ılı.lıl taehyung: I mean… Of all the people… Why me? Why did it have to be me?

ılı.lıl deo: Simply put, we met at a time when I needed someone like him. Thanks to him, I became who I am now... 

ılı.lıl taehyung: I wish I had never met her. *sighs* I was such a fool now that I think back. 

ılı.lıl deo: *smiles* Being around him.. his love was kind of magical...

⫰

august 10th, 2022 

Summer is at its peak and Taehyung has just arrived at Jeju airport. It has been a while since he last had some time to himself due to work, so to say he couldn’t wait for this much-deserving vacation is an understatement. 

He organized everything at the company before he took off for this get-away, from the ongoing projects ideas he had recently pitched in, to the files the design team would need the next fifteen days he was away. And if you know Taehyung, you also know being organized was never his forte. 

The game designer waits absentmindedly with his luggage by his foot, as he takes his beloved camera out of its case to finally point at the structure behind him. This airport isn’t the biggest one he had ever set foot on, he observes, but it is cozy enough and bustling with people everywhere to the point his fingers itch for the metal click of the equipment for a piece of nostalgia he held dear to his heart. 

Just around the corner, Deo hit the brakes of the jeep as she waits for a group of tourists to cross to the other sidewalk while talking to her boss on the phone. 

“It would’ve been much easier if you had just asked him for a selfie or something, Yumi–” 

She hears her boss laugh through the speakers as she looks out of the window. The place is packed to the point she can barely see the pick-up line where the Ubers and Taxis usually park, and a wave of worriedness falls upon her. “Let’s go through with his description once again.” 

“Ok, remember… He’s tall, and the last time he came he had blonde hair but that might not be the case anymore… Mmm, he has a nice shoulder line– Just trust me, his face will be hard to miss. He’s really handsome!” 

The confession has Deo opening a smile. She met Yumi just a couple of weeks back when she arrived in Jeju herself, but the connection was instant. 

For the first three days, she stayed at Yumi’s shack—the colorful hostel by the beach owned by Yumi herself and her long-time fiancé, Namjoon. But then going home became some distant reality she wasn’t ready to face, so kindly she was offered a position at the beach stay. And now, here she is, doing her first task out of the premises and the vigilante eyes of her playful bosses. 

Although she loved the couple who hired her, even if it had been just a mere seventeen days, and she considered them as family, nothing made Deo as uncomfortable as not knowing what she was dealing with. Driving to the airport clueless as to whom she should be picking up wasn’t her cup of tea and the uneasiness she felt was visible as she sighed longly while turning off the call. 

The stop sign goes green again, and with a bold strike of encouragement, she straightens her back, holds the steering wheel with conviction, and begins a cheerful pep talk to herself. 

“You can do this.” She mumbles, hawkeyes scanning the people as her car slowly passes by. “How hard can it be… He’s tall and–” 

The words quickly lose their sound in her mouth. Standing ten feet ahead, a man attracts glances from everyone passing by as he checks the visor in his camera absentmindedly. 

Mentally, Deo starts crossing every characteristic being given by Yumi as she keeps looking at him through the safety of the Jeep’s tainted window. The only thing that doesn’t match is that this handsome man isn’t blonde but a brunette. His chocolate locks look ridiculously soft blowing in the light breeze. 

Inhaling resolved, she parks right next to him, rolling her window down.  

“Hi there! Would you perhaps be the Kim Taehyung from Seoul I’m looking for?” 

Upon hearing his name, Taehyung looks up at her. The girl doesn’t wait for his answer, she jumps out of the vehicle that he can notice is much bigger than herself. “You must be here to pick me up… Right?” 

Deo smiles at him confirming with a nod before opening the big trunk of the Jeep. Instead of introducing herself right away as expected, Taehyung watches as she reaches for his luggage, her knitted eyebrows denouncing how heavy it must be. 

“I– I can do that–” He tries, but she swiftly evades his reach. 

“It’s no problem! Really.”

He watches a bit flustered as she tries to dismiss her effort with a laid-back energy as if it was something she did all the time—to arrange heavy stuff in trunks and whatever not. 

Picking both his duffel bags to help while she is still pushing his suitcase inside the trunk, he is able to take two steps before she takes notice and grabs them from his hands. “Leave that to me! You can wait inside, really. Go ahead!” Deo waves her hand and he starts to walk toward the passenger seat uncertain of how to behave, but decides to take her lead for the time being. 

“Seatbealt!” She says as soon as she occupies the driver's seat and he is quick to follow the instruction. 

“So… Where is Namjoon?” 

Deo reaches for the rearview mirror, casually checking something in her eye before adjusting it back to its position. “Oh, he had to give today’s surf lessons and Yumi was kind of busy with tonight’s gathering so… But you’ll see him soon enough!”

“Ah, I see” 

“He’ll be waiting for us by the beach, don’t worry.” And the bubbly smile she gives him before starting the car and driving them away is enough to shut down his inquiry and haze him in his thoughts. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: What kind of women I’m compatible with? *smiles* Looking back… I’m drawn to the ones that are strange to me at first *chuckles* I think they’re a good pair for me. 

Driving down the lush tapestry of Jeju island, Deo takes the wheel as the jeep’s interior is illuminated by the soft glow of the sun. Melodic notes intertwine with the afternoon’s warm atmosphere as music envelops them. Deo’s fingers tap the steering wheel, and her voice, a gentle hum, dances in harmony with the rhythm. Taehyung, sitting beside her, steals occasional glances, captivated by her carefree demeanor. The playful sway of her copper strands in the wind and the joy evident on her face, as the waves crash on the coast, make the moment feel like a private dance between them.

ılı.lıl taehyung: Have you ever met someone and felt like they were this huge… Question mark? 

ılı.lıl taehyung: Like– “What is she like? She looks fun” *chuckles reminiscent* And you can’t stop having these questions and curiosities… You just want to know more and more. 

As if sensing the perfect moment, a familiar melody begins to play through the car’s speakers. Deo’s eyes lit up with recognition, a grin forming on her lips. Officially Missing You by Tamia had been remade by Basstracks as a summer tune, and it had quickly become one of her favorites at the moment; a song that resonated with the essence of Jeju and its travelers. 

With an impulsive burst of excitement, Deo cranks up the volume, allowing the music to envelop the jeep. The infectious beat cascades around them, harmonizing with the engine's rhythm roaring wildly in the wind. Her hands tap the steering wheel more enthusiastically than before, her foot keeping time with the pedals as the melody ignites her senses. 

And then, as if the music had started a fire within her, she begins to sing. Her voice, rich and passionate, hits Taehyung’s ears in a wonderful and alluring way. Every note she sings seems to carry the energy of the sun-drenched afternoon, a celebration of life and the freedom of the open road. 

Taehyung was initially taken aback by the sudden fervor. He watches in silent amazement as she transforms from a steady driver into a vivacious performer. Her eyes sparkle with delight, and her voice carries an unadulterated joy that is impossible to ignore. 

For a moment, he is rendered speechless, caught in the captivating spell of her uninhibited enthusiasm even though he knows the lyrics by heart himself. But as the chorus approaches, Deo’s voice soars higher, and turning to him with an unmistakable twinkle in her eye, she opens the windows further, allowing the world outside to merge with the music. 

“You know this song–?” As she asks and the chorus reaches its crescendo, she extends her arm toward him, pretending her hand is a microphone. The invitation hangs between them, and he hesitates for a moment. “C’mon! Sing with me–” Shyness lingered, but her spirited performance is too magnetic to resist. 

Taking a deep breath, he leans closer to the imaginary tool and timidly joins in, his voice intertwining with hers. Taehyung sings softly, still caught in the spell of her contagious energy. His eyes remain fixed on her while she loses herself to the music.

At that moment, as Deo sings with all her heart, his own swells with a profound fondness for the stranger sitting by his side. He realizes that this is a glimpse into her unfiltered soul—one that seems to revel in the simple joys of life, that seems to embrace every moment with unbridled passion. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: That’s how I fell for her… You see, I’m attracted to intense women. 

⤷ tangerimin It is fun to follow their lead kekeke so… Same here. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: There is a lot more to it– Like being bubbly… Oh, and she was also pretty feisty! Yeah, *smiles* that’s what she was like. She had just the right amount of feistiness.

When the music fades out and is replaced by the radio host’s voice instead, Deo turns down the volume still in a cheerful spirit. She takes a peak at the passenger seat only to notice Taehyung’s eyes are already on her. Visibly disconcerted, he gives her a small smile before looking over at his window instead, and she takes the opportunity to know more about him. 

“You will like it there,” she starts bubbly and he returns his gaze to her side profile. It is endearing how close to the steering wheel her seat is to compensate for her small stature.  

“I think so too… The last time I came it was such a healing experience– And well, I’ve been wanting to rent a trailer ever since I was younger.” 

“Oh, you’ll love it then!” He watches how her eyes part from the road ahead and instead fall on his side of the car, momentarily pointing with her index finger still on the wheel to the beach extension that passes by them. “It must be lovely to drive along the coasts… Picking these beautiful spots to just– Chill. I have a list of them if you want!” 

Taehyung leans his head on the window, a nostalgic wave hits his lips as the lines of it curve upward and he watches the sea crashing at the shore. It’s like a vivid picture of his childhood right in front of him. 

“That would be great if I had the license to drive the camper around… Maybe next time?” 

“You’re staying over a month and you won’t even change spots?! Now that we can’t do, hon.” 

He looks back at her startled by the casualty she treats everything. And not in a bad way; she didn’t peg him as this overbearing nosy person who didn’t have boundaries, but as someone that seemed carefree and loose. A different version of himself that he had to let go of many moons ago to fit the immense gray box that was societal norms and ordinary conviviality. 

Feeling a bit tempted to just enjoy the moment he decides then to let go of the filters. “That’s the only thing to do, hon, I don’t have the license.” He jokes, chuckling at her reaction when hearing the nickname. “What? You started it.” 

“My bad! Yumi was so invested in this whole casual speech thing ever since I started my part-time job there that now I just can’t come out of it. Something about making the guests feel at home and all that…” 

“Sounds like Yumi!” 

“But back to you. I was thinking… If there was a way to get you a license, would you want it? To live the full experience of a camper, that is…?” 

Taehyung frowns thinking as he looks to the calm waves again, but there isn’t much thinking to do. He would love the freedom of parking the vehicle throughout the whole extension of Jeju. “Sure…” He ponders. Being the type to imagine and discuss things, he was more than ready to give her all the reasons why that would be great for his next stay. “To park it whe–” 

“Great! So let’s do it!” 

It is the last thing he hears before she makes an abrupt U-turn in the middle of the calm road, and he has to flatten one hand on the window and the other on the panel of the Jeep to hold for his life. 

His heart only stops beating at an alarming speed once she hits the brakes and he is able to open the door to exit the vehicle. Still confused as to what is happening, the picture gets clear as she opens her arms excitedly in front of what he realizes to be a driving school.

“Ta-da! Your problems will be solved in exactly two days!” Deo exclaims, and Taehyung is pretty certain that his face is contorting in the most clueless way. He notices how a sudden strike of worriedness flashes on her toffee irises, however. “If you manage to pass the test of course…” 

ılı.lıl taehyung: I should have known she was crazy by then… But in all honesty… That’s what made her fun in the first place. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: And that makes me crazy too *laughs* You know, it’s those kinds of things you only realize later… Much later. Like realizing you’ve been conned only after being conned by someone *sighs*

⤷ supertuna Wow … I have just now realized how some people can be so blind 

ılı.lıl taehyung: And now whenever I see a camper trailer… I think of her.

They only get out of the driving school when he goes through with all the paperwork necessary to go and take the test the next day as Deo had insisted. She not only pushed him into a 3x4 photo machine situated on the long corridor of the building, but also cut the picture she thought to be the best, and helped him fill the application. 

Taehyung keeps replaying the whole shenanigan in his head as he takes his surfboard out of the roof of the jeep parked by his temporary home—a camper trailer by the beach. Last year, Namjoon had called him excitedly sharing the news that his girlfriend and he had bought a cozy place in Jeju and had renovated it to be a chill hostel for surfers and passersby. Of course, Taehyung stopped by to visit as soon as he was able to take some days off, but at the time, since all trailers were already rented, he stayed on the main structure. 

Not that it was bad, far from it. He enjoyed every second; from the late-night gatherings to the lounge festivities, and the amazing lunchtime Yumi was keen on making into a later-on karaoke session or game quest. There was no dull time within the colorful facilities, and it was always kept so casual that it made Taehyung feel very much at home. 

But he had the trailer experience written down on his bucket list ever since he could remember. And so this time around, he was sure to seize the opportunity and make that old promise come true. 

His thoughts wander away as he finishes sticking his board in the warm sand. Playing by the emerald shore, Deo runs laughing as she is chased by two dogs. His right hand comes to his eye line to shield it from the sun as he is incapable of moving on with his life, seeing her throw a stick only to have the bigger dog chasing it and the little one look at her unamused. It’s like he could be here all day to witness this particular scene, unconscious and unbothered by what surrounds them. 

And that is indeed what happens. 

“Hey, you, Mr. cloud9–” Namjoon calls for his attention for the second time. “You didn’t listen to a thing I said, did you?” 

“Hm?” 

“I was telling you to close the canvas of it at night because of the wind– Are you even hearing a thing?” But as he follows his friend's line of sight he knows he isn’t. Letting go of his own obligations for the time being, he stands beside Taehyung, crossing his arms and admiring his dogs running as the waves serve as background music to his ears. It’s peaceful. It’s his piece of peace on earth. 

“She shines, doesn’t she?” 

Namjoon peaks at his friend before looking ahead once more, with a fond smile finding his features. “She does… She has been our recent source of joy. Yumi and I laugh so much because of her lately.” 

“Yeah, she seems fun,” Taehyung muses with a chuckle of his own still enamored by the scene displayed in front of him. Deo falls to the soft sand in laughter and both dogs come flying toward her. 

“Poor girl… She was dumped here by some surfer. Could you believe that?” 

There is a sorrowful pause and Taehyung is suddenly snapped out of his trance, indignity brimming in his eyes as his friend shakes his head clearly saddened by the situation. 

Returning his view to the girl ahead, he adds, “What kind of jerk would do that? She seems so bubbly and… Caring–” 

“You want to take her to Seoul?” Namjoon interrupts and he almost gasps. 

“Take her?!”

“Yeah, take her. I mean, I think she would be happy with you there…” 

“You think she would like to come with me?” Taehyung’s fingers tingle with the possibility, even if he himself doubts it a little. 

“Sure! We just have to give her one last shot and she’s good to go! The vet–”

“Wait. What? What are you talking about?” 

Namjoon stares at him suddenly confused, and then back at the beach again. As Deo hops by, calling for both Monnie and Tan, his eyebrows soften in understanding. 

“Oh… It’s not Monnie, is it?” He muses playfully. “You’re talking about Yewon… I see,” 

“Yewon…” Taehyung mumbles her name to himself. “So her name is Yewon, huh…”

But the impish nudges he receives on his side snap him out of his thoughts and let him know that Namjoon won’t be letting go of this confession so soon. 

In the cozy beachside hostel, the evening breeze whispers through open windows, carrying with it the laughter of tenants. With a lighthearted step, Deo finds herself in the pantry where Namjoon is absorbed in a way to easy recipe for lounge snacks. Fishing his phone out of her jeans, a small smile plays on her lips as she extends the device toward him. 

“Here you go, boss,” she remarks, her voice playful as she not only returns his phone but also substitutes the sugar jar in his hand with the salt and pepper. 

Namjoon glances up, chuckling at his clumsiness. “We were almost in trouble there. You’re a lifesaver.” 

As he takes the phone from the table filled with condiments, he can’t help but tease, “You should probably get one of your own, don’t you think?” 

“Eh. It’s just a hassle really… I only use it to talk to our guests.” 

Leaving him to his impromptu cooking, she strolls out to the porch, where the new visitors are gathering. The atmosphere is lively, with conversations and newfound curiosity filling the air. Deo effortlessly mingles, chatting with familiar faces and welcoming newcomers that pass by the beach. 

Among the crowd, she notices Taehyung engrossed in a ping pong game, as she takes some beers to a group playing Jenga. His infectious laughter captivates everyone around him and she can’t help but smile at the view. Her gaze lingers, catching his eye for a fleeting second. 

She points with her head to the group around him, wearing a playful smile on her lips, and lifting her thumb up to measure how he is doing tonight she waits for his response. Immediately he raises his own finger positively, his smile opening wider at her caring gesture to check on him. 

Suddenly, the lights flicker and go out, causing momentary confusion and their brief interaction to cease. Murmurs and laughter rise as the guests fumble in the dark. Deo is the only one chuckling expectant as she knows what is to come. 

Then, not ten seconds later, Yumi’s voice pierce the darkness through a megaphone. “Ladies and gents, it’s game time!” 

The announcement is met with cheers and applause, and the porch transforms into a playground of excitement. Deo herself feels the rush of anticipation buzz down to the tip of her fingers as the group prepares for a surprise game under the stars, even though she replays the script made by her and Yumi earlier on in her mind.

The last time Taehyung stayed here, he arrived so tired from a late-night flight that he wasn’t able to participate in the welcoming game he knew Yumi organized every month, and he regretted it for the whole week he rented a room. This night was all every guest he met by the beach was able to talk about, and now he was ready to find why. 

As some fairy lights and a big screen illuminate the space, Deo watches the handsome newcomer’s silhouette amid the glow. His grin was unmistakable as he raised a red cup, ready to dive open-heartedly into whatever it was that the hosts had prepared.

Supposedly, every time Yumi and Namjoon did this for the new guests to ambient themselves and feel more comfortable around everyone else, they prepared a scavenge hunt inside and outside of the hostel's bounds. But this week everything had gone to space and changes had to be made at the last minute. 

Between losing a long-time employee and having to train Deo on the spot, as well as managing the surf lessons and running the business, the couple had little to no time to arrange the things needed for the anticipated scavenge hunt. So this month, Deo pitched in with a rather easy game to orchestrate and that would still promote the mingling of the visitors—Simon Says. 

“And… Start!” Yumi exclaimed as she pressed the button to start the presentation on the projection screen. 

Big crimson red letters appear giving instructions and the crowd thrillingly follows. “Simon says: make a group with four girls and three guys” it reads at first and everyone fumbles their way to find open spots. Deo herself is forced to join as two guests she had come to know, pull her to their side. The thrill of the game intertwined with the salt-kissed wind made her feel some sense of belonging that she had never really expected. 

“Three guys, three girls!”

In the throes of the chaos of the match, it was inevitable however how Taehyung’s gaze followed the sound of Deo’s laughter. Even if their eyes meet in brief moments, and even if it was in the middle of an ongoing competition, a silent connection seemed to pull them to each other like gravity. 

As the game reaches its apex, the tension in the air is palpable. The players’ laughter overlaps with the sound of Yumi’s megaphone, creating a symphony of fun. They aren’t completely strangers now. There is a spontaneous connection formed between them all, just like the hosts had intended it to. 

“One guy, one girl! Quick!”, Yumi reads the screen through the megaphone overexcited, and the remaining participants eye each other in confusion while the rest of the crowd laughs entertained. “Oh–” 

Taehyung steals a glance at his two partners, both male, and they all chuckle amused, not really knowing how to proceed. 

“I think I messed up when writing this– Wait.” Yumi confesses to the crowd sheepishly, starting to move toward the laptop to try and fix the mistake. 

But then Taehyung feels like someone is watching him through his peripheral, and when he turns his head, it’s her. Deo stands two feet away from him, close to Yumi, watching joyfully, and he suddenly knows what to do. Or better, his heart does. 

With two quick steps, he reaches for her hand, pulling her gently to his side and attracting everyone else’s attention to their figures, Yumi’s included. In the midst of the applause and collective cheer, Deo’s mute inquiry reaches his eyes. 

The porch begins to transform into a realm of unity and exhilaration, being lit by the moonlight and the shared spirit of the guests, but not that any of the two notice, as the girl is too enchanted by her last-minute partner’s orbs. Taehyung's big brown eyes pierce hers with certainty and a flash of curiosity that is almost childlike. 

A shared smile floats between them as her sight falls to his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the joy of the evening and perhaps the butterflies that flutter rapidly in their stomachs.

The lights had gone out, but the bonds forming under the starry August sky seemed to shine even brighter. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: When you look into a girl’s eyes you can tell if she’s compatible with you or not. I can see who she is through it… And in that moment I felt it. I knew that she and I would be compatible. 

“We have our winner for tonight!” Yumi exclaims through the megaphone as they keep staring into each other’s eyes, “Congrats!” 

Amidst the fading echoes of the beachside game’s conclusion, jubilant cheers resound from the open porch of the hostel. The sun had retreated long before the gathering had started, ceding its reign to a canvas of twilight hues, but now fireworks burst into existence, painting the sky with a kaleidoscope of colors. 

The couple, different from the majority of the crowd who excitedly run towards the shores, stands hand in hand still. A silent connection stronger than the clamor. With each explosion, Taehyung’s gaze shifts from the spectacle to Deo, seeing in her eyes a breezeful wonder that makes him rendered. Yet, it’s not just the pyrotechnics that leave him breathless. As he watches her, a quiet realization dawns—his heart races to a rhythm he hadn’t known before. It’s more than just curiosity. At that moment, amid the splendor of the fireworks and the tranquil beauty of the night, Taehyung recognizes the gentle tug of love. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: I liked everything about her… The way she looked at things and the way she smelled. How she had two funky single braids done in her loose strands and the clothes she threw together without much effort making an all-together beachy look. 

ılı.lıl taehyung: Everything about her seemed perfect to me. I just… I really liked her.

Sort by Oldest first ↓

supertuna Maybe it’s because I’ve been dating for so long… But I find dating stories uhm… Kind of funny now keke 

callmerinie “And it was at that moment that the fireworks went off…” 🤭🤭 

tangerimin You bet they heard bells, too. I heard it was explosions of fireworks 😏

⤷ notmekeys i’m too drnk to answee this

supertuna I think everyone feels like their own love life is special like in a movie or something

notmekeys it’s a beautiful story tho

⤷ notmekeys there waas a guy who found a butiful woman on a trip and and the night they met fireworkss went off peww pew!

⤷ notmekeys their eyes met bang !! theirr hearts too

bluengrey But those things can happen all at once… At least I think so. 

boreo well… if the woman is insanely pretty that’s possible. don’t you think?

⤷ tangerimin That’s exactly when you have to realize it’s just too good to be true, don’t you think? 

supertuna Let’s say you wake up from that dream, then what happens if you don’t get together?

⤷ callmerinie then you die alone

⤷ notmekeys no. no no. i’m not alone. 

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bluengrey Hmm

bluengrey I would still fall for her..

boreo if i met him again… i’d fall in love again

bluengrey Yes, I think I would.

NEXT EPISODE ▸ ❤️‍🩹— singguks | all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim as your own.

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Starting with everything you need to know about me! Or should I say us! We're a DID System who uses "The Arcade System" as a way to collectively refer to ourselves, but you can just call us Arcade if that's easier! We're bodily 21 years old, trans and queer in multiple different directions depending on the alter, and physically and mentally disabled (Primarily AuDHD, BPD, and some unlabeled joint issues we haven't found a name for).

As for me specifically, I'm the host of the system! My name is Trish and as you've probably already guessed if you're a fellow Jojo fan I'm a fictive of Trish Una from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5; Vento Aureo/Golden Wind! I'm the same age as the body, and I'm a proud genderqueer lesbian! Since I use the body's birthday as opposed to my canon birthday in source, I'm a leo!

It's mostly me on this blog, but Hot Pants fronts and will post every once in a blue moon. While this is mainly a Jojo blog right now, I post about and reblog a lot of content specifically about Vento Aureo, Purple Haze Feedback, and Steel Ball Run! A couple of the other fandoms I post about sometimes are Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Homestuck, Houseki no Kuni/Land of the Lustrous, and Danganronpa!

Most of our posts are ramblings and infodumping, but we also post fanfics, media analysis, and digital art! Occasionally, you'll even see some cosplays! We have art commissions open pretty much at all times, but you can always check in the inbox if you're unsure! Our comms post is here for extra info!

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Some other things to note: I don't tolerate hate or harassment. If I say something wrong or worded a post incorrectly, educate me. Don't scream at me. On that note, proshippers leave me the fuck alone. I'm not gonna go around hunting you down for the sole purpose of harassing you, but I do NOT fuck with your crowd. This includes JonaDio, DioPucci, GioMis, etc. Also uber specific, but I don't like Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss or whatever other media that horrible woman creates. I don't mind if you like it and again I'm not gonna go tracking other people down for it, but I just don't personally want it in my space.

Other than that, feel free to interact! I'm always open to asks and talking about almost anything, including questions about Source Memories or our plurality as a whole! Obviously there are some questions and topics that I want to avoid, but I'll just say that much if it comes up lol.

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