#please don’t spoil anything; I just finished episode 10

[somethingfishysgoingon]

Oh, (the better) Taylor Swift, the boy that you are…

[flusteredtuna]

YES, CHEF!

Carmen Berzzato“The Bear” x !fem! reader

Contains: ( 18+ Mature Only ) praise, first kiss, head, and x-men movie.

Words: 2k+

Summary: Carmen, a good friend, shows up unexpectedly at your door late at night. Tipsy. And things obviously take a turn as he sobers up and you learn the true nature of his visit. ( no under the influence… do not fret )

I used a scene from Netflix’s series ‘Good Girls’ season 4 episode 6, as a main plot point and used the begging dialogue. I won’t name the scene as to not spoil the show ( it’s not a big plot point and the fanfic does not spoil it either. ) you can watch the clip here.

This was written for a friend 💕 ( and i had to repost due to an error ) This is also the second fan-fiction I have ever completed, so enjoy.

It’s a relaxing Saturday evening in your quaint charming little apartment on the third floor. Warm lighting, antique cabinet, quilted blanket covering your lap, and a warm homemade mug of Earl Grey tea in your hand as you read your book.

knock. knock. KNOCK.

A heavy and lazy hand knocks on your landlord’s special white front door. It’s 10 p.m., who could be knocking on the door? You un-tuck yourself from your spot on the couch and with tea in hand, you head toward the door and open it.

It’s Carmen. You’ve been friends for about a year now, friends with feelings for half that time. You met through a mutual friend, one who works at his restaurant. The relationship between you two is close and has only gotten closer with having the same friend group. But even with the tension in the room during every group hangout, he’s never made a move. And neither have you. Maybe it’s because of his girlfriend. Who didn’t show up to game nights.

And yet here he is, making an unexpected visit to your apartment.

“This isn’t my house,” he says. He smells of beer and is definitely not sober. Both his arms hold his body up as he leans in your doorframe.

“Hey yourself…” your face is twisted with confusion. Carmy never came over, at least not by himself. “Are you…tipsy? Fried? any other word for not sober?” You try to figure him out enough to make him go away before it turns into something else.

He chuckles a bit, “Just a bit buzzed”.

“Why are you in my doorway, Carmen?” You lean against the open door.

“I was at the bar, with friends. Karaoke bar.” He huffs as he finishes his sentence which seems hard to get out of his mouth.

“I don’t even know who to feel sorry for there” you respond. A look of worry mixed in with your confusion.

You stare at each other for what feels like the longest five seconds of your life. His mouth hung open a little.

“I can’t be with her anymore” You wince at his words and your heart drops to your toes. Did he just say that? Has he told her?

“You should go home,” trying to prevent something from progressing.

“I don’t want to go home” he quickly responds

“Then you should go somewhere else” You grab the door leaning away, ready to close it on him. Although you don’t want to, you know you should.

“Can I uh- just please come in?” Starting to close the door he pushes back a bit “No, Carmy. Please trust me, just go home.” He places a firm hand on the door and abruptly says, “I think I’m gonna crap myself.”

You stop and look at him. It’s unbelievable that this is what made you stop. You swing the door open and do the same with your other arm, gesturing to him to enter. He walks in, and heads for the bathroom.

Setting your tea down you sit on the couch waiting for him to come back, you try to think of anything else other than the fact that Carmen is in your home. Possibly with the intention of cheating on his girlfriend with you. Attempting to stare at the patchy rug to find some sort of escape. The goal now was to just make sure he didn’t do anything crass.

He walks out of the bathroom and immediately slumps himself on the floor against the couch right next to you. “I wouldn’t go in there for at least 30 minutes.”

Raising your brows and giggling, “Feeling any better?”

Carmen doesn’t even look at you, he just looks straight on. “Not really.” He rubs his hands together.

“I broke up with Sarah.” He says quietly. Yet another string of words that makes your heart drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You try to be reassuring but you’re not sure how to be in this situation. “Do you want to talk about it?” Carmen looks at you, his eyes glossy from his buzz.

“Nah.” You tilt your head at him and then look over at the TV, catching the slight reflection of your two figures lounging on the comfy yellow couch. “Do you want to watch something?”

Carmen’s nods face towards the black screen of the TV, and you reach for the remote to turn something on. “X-men?” you suggest as he gets up and sits on the other end of the couch. One person’s width away from you.

“X-Men it is.” He slurs his words a bit as he gestures to the TV with a hand and flops it back down in his lap. Turning on the movie, you make yourself comfortable by shifting your legs to bend and your feet resting on the middle cushion, pulling the blanket over you. Even with him sitting glued to the arm of the other end, you both are still somehow too close.

As the movie passes, the tension stands. Seeing each other glancing out of the corner of their eyes now and then doesn’t help. Finally, Carmey opens up a bit and starts to comment on the movie, “You know, I don’t know why they cast Evan Peters for this when he plays that other guy in that Wanda show. Fuckin’ stupid.” He sounds more like himself now, which eases the tension, making this situation a little more comfortable.

“Yeah I think there’s a theory about that,” You both continue to talk throughout the movie, he seems to sober up. It’s nice hanging out with him like this. Although the circumstances aren’t 100% preferred, you don’t seem to mind it anymore.

The movie ended with you both laughing at a conversation completely unrelated. Whatever it was it was something way more entertaining to both of you. So long of a conversation that the credits end. You both look over to the screen again. A prompt asking “How would you rate this film?”.

“Well, I guess it ended.” You chuckle a bit but look over at him, seemingly back in his head again. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

Now sitting up against the arm of the couch and crossing your legs, you feel like you should say something.

“You know the best wa-“ he interrupts you “I broke up with her so I could see you.”

Your eyes meet as he looks over to you, now sitting up a bit more. “Carmy I-“ interrupting you again “Y/N, I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything. I know this is a lot,” he puts a hand to his temple and starts to get a little more passionate in his speech. Almost defensive. “Shit. I just couldn’t see you without leaving and not feel fuckin’ guilty!” His hand gestures around as he speaks, like he’s in the kitchen talking to his staff.

“Carmen!” You try to steer the conversation away from him getting louder, “Why would you feel guilty?” You know the answer to that.

He rests a hand on his lap and his other on his temple again. Releasing a deep exhale, he looks at you. “Maybe I wanted to uh-,” he hesitates for a moment to look you up and down. “Feel something…else.”

You can feel the flush rushing to your cheeks so quickly after he says this. With wide eyes and raised brows, you try to pull out your best response, “Feel what? Pressed about…Marvel casting?”

He chuckles and moves a smidge towards you, putting a bent leg up on the couch, “No no no. no. Jesus. That, that’s ridiculous.” You smile a bit at his amusement, “Then what is it, Carmy?”

Rubbing his face and letting out another huff, he sounds like he’s holding back. And you aren’t sure if you want him to keep it bottled or release it.

Continuing to look at you with starry eyes, he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Fuck. Look. I don’t want to be too forward and I definitely don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” You press your lips together in anticipation of what he’s about to say, “It’s something that I’ve felt for a while and I’ve been fucking ignoring it.” He pauses again and takes another huff, taking a look at the door. “I should just go.”

As he gets up you grab his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Carmy,” his eyes soften as he looks at you, “you don’t need to leave.”

As you let go of his wrist he sits next to you, closer. “It’s kind of obvious.” You chuckle a bit through your words. It is obvious. You’ve noticed this tension for a while now, he’s only just confirming it.

“What is? That I like you?” His tone is almost defensive like he was caught. A smile creeps on your face, “I mean…Marcus has noticed it too.” He raises his brows, surprised. “He said the tension is thicker than his dark chocolate mousse.” Carmen laughs at this, and so do you. It’s a sweet moment.

He pushes his hair back from falling more in his face, “I uh, I’m sorry I showed up like this.”

“If you mean showing up drunk at my door to use my bathroom and then sobering up while watching X-men with me…” You make it sound like a bigger deal than it is just to tease him.

“No yea, shit. I’m sorry I-”

“Then it’s more than fine.” Laughing again, like you are the only two people in the world. You both exchange a smile looking deeper into each other’s eyes.

“You’ve always had a nice laugh.” He says putting his arm back on the couch, and leaning in a bit.

“You do too.” It all feels like a dream. The fact that he’s here, making a move on you.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, so effortlessly, that you wish you could stay in that moment forever.

You look away for a moment, clearly a bit flustered, “Are you sure you aren’t still tipsy?” turning back you notice he’s gotten a little closer.

“I’m positive I’m sober.” He chuckles again.

You start to lean in a bit, not realizing that you have until your noses are about five inches apart from one another. His hand was still near your face, resting on the back of the couch beside you.

Looking at your lips he begins to say, “I uh. Just-”. He doesn’t even finish his thought. He’s too distracted by his lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, one you’ve been waiting for, for the longest time. Pulling back you find his hand on your cheek caressing it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He says, with a breath of relief that the hard part was over.

Jaw dropped, you look at his mouth again. He catches this and charges at you for another kiss, this time more intense. You hold both of his cheeks in hopes of him staying put. He almost hovers over you as you both continue to make out.

Soft and quiet moans escape your mouth as he reaches down one of his hands to feel the sides of your arms. Then tracing back up to your cheek. He pulls back. Your lips burn with sensation.

“Carmen,” the words escape your mouth through heavy breathing, “are you sure this is okay.”

He puts a hand to your chin, “Yes.” he kisses your cheek. “I wanna take care of you.” Your brain swarms with ideas of what he could mean.

You smile in approval while taking his free hand and putting it to your breast. He smirks as he follows his hand and where it landed. “Then take care of me.”

With a firm squeeze, he touches you through your shirt, while he moves his face towards your neck and kisses it. He takes his time reaching under your shirt to explore you with more satisfaction.

Caressing your nipple with his pointer and his thumb, already making you weak. And he watches as your face curls in pleasure.

Carmen then lifts your shirt to sit just above your breasts and kisses the center, making his way over the hill of your other breast and biting the peak. It makes you gasp. He puts a hand under the curve of your other breast and messages it.

Your soft moans only make him want you more.

He moves away for a moment, and you open your eyes to watch him, “wha- what is it.” He smirks and lifts the blanket you’re under, just enough to reach his arm in to place a hand on the side of your thigh. Scooting closer he leans over you now slouched on the couch.

Suddenly you’re kissing again, passionately. He feels your thigh up and down gripping it, then moving to the inside. Parting your legs he reaches a hand up from the bottom of your shorts, under your panties to grab your hip. Like it’s his. Then firmly and slowly sliding it back out.

“Take… them off.” You whisper through kisses. Pulling away he smiles and looks at your drowsy eyes. Without saying anything he lifts the blanket further and now using both his hands he tugs on your waistband, taking away the sleep boxers you had been wearing.

Touching you again in that spot that’s so sensitive, he teases you. Denying the pleasure of having the fabric between you and his fingers, out of the way. Your moans continue, still soft, as he caresses you further. The intensity builds as your lips meet again.

Backing away, he lifts the blanket once more, but now going in head first. Your heart drops, you know exactly what he has in mind.

With his head between your thighs he kisses your soft spot, and then taking both his hands on either side of your drawers, he pulls them off revealing you.

Carmen uses his fingers to carefully open you up like a flower, kissing the bud. He’s so gentle that you do feel like you’re being taken care of.

But then you suddenly feel another sensation. His tongue is on you. Swirling around. It makes you moan louder as your back arches. Ribs reaching for the sky. You grab onto the couch to try and ground yourself, but it doesn’t help much.

“You’re so wet for me.” He feasts upon you and now takes two of his fingers and plays with your entrance, spreading your wetness around like butter on a hot skillet. His free arm is wrapped around your thigh, holding on tight to keep you steady.

As he tastes you more and more. The finest dish. You lift your end of the blanket with the small strength you have and watch his head back away from your clit to look at you as he puts two fingers inside you. He starts to push them in and out of you and you throw your head back moaning in absolute hot delight.

“Look at me.” His demand is so dominating. Again, sounding like he’s in the kitchen.

“Make me.” You say through a heavy moan. He pulls his fingers out making you gasp grabbing your chin and pulling your face down to meet his eyes. “Yes, Chef”. He chuckles a bit, letting you get away with that one. You knew he might be thinking about that during his next shift.

You watch as he goes back down, shoving his fingers back inside. Gripping the couch once again louder moans escape your mouth. Picking up his pace you can feel him hitting your walls in the best way. “Fuck, Carmy…” You manage to moan out.

The closer you get the more you surrender to his pace as it gets faster. Your body clenches around him, making it tighter and tighter for him. “Cum for me.”

You nod your head rapidly as you’re too stimulated by the pleasure. Your back arches even further and you become stiff in your position as he hits the spot so perfectly. This is what you’ve been waiting for. The peak of your gratification inches closer and closer.

Finally…you gasp in ecstasy, his fingers still inside you pounding. “That’s it.” He whispers moving away from eating you out, to just using his fingers. Watching you as you finish on them.

Carmen pulls his fingers out slowly, watching your overstimulated body heave heavy breaths. He scoots your legs to the side to lie beside you on the couch. Between catching up with your lungs you manage to speak. “Carmen, you…” You take a clarifying breath as he props himself up on his arm, looking at you as he lays beside you. “You’re really good at that.”

He chuckles, “Of course I am, I eat for a living.” He tucks your hair away behind your ear, and you both take a moment to be present as your tummy buzzes with butterflies.

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : X]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings :  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+ Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary : At the Jedi Temple, everyone confronted a shocking truth about themselves, whether it was Sol, Yord, or yourself.

Status: just finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N : I'm not spoiling anything, but two things: First, Qimir's out of the picture for a bit after this, while the story shifts to the Jedi Temple, where you'll learn more about his and the reader's backstories. Second, there's a super important character here you won't want to miss.

Ps.If you enjoy my work, please reblog it. Just liking the post won’t help others discover it.

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread

[Episodes 10] Hand of God be my witness; I am the voice from the outer world

They won't believe me.

The thought crosses your mind as you survey the interrogation room in the Jedi Temple on Olega. The room is nearly barren, with bare gray concrete walls and no windows, furnished only with a table and two chairs on opposite sides. You choose the inner seat, facing the door, patiently awaiting the arrival of another.

It isn't long before the steel door slides open, revealing the tall, gaunt figure of a middle-aged man dressed in a yellow Jedi uniform. Sol’s expression is grave as he takes the chair opposite you. Without preamble, he begins to speak. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. The things you’ve told us are... quite shocking.” He pauses briefly, then continues with a polite tone, “It will take time to verify the truth of all this, and we may not reach a conclusion soon.”

You reflect on everything you've revealed to them earlier. You told them all they needed to know—that Qimir was behind the Jedi slaughter on this planet and that he was a Sith Lord disguised as a harmless apothecary, hiding right under their noses for years.

To the Jedi, however, your account is just hearsay. After all, everything you said came from your visions, lacking tangible evidence to prove your story—no proof that what you saw was real and not some fevered delusion.

You know your fate hangs by a thread. There’s a strong chance the Jedi will deem you delusional and might even cast you out of the Temple. That is a risk you cannot afford to take, especially when Qimir knows you have escaped and is relentlessly pursuing you. Nowhere in the galaxy will be safe for you except under the protection of the Jedi Order. It's your only hope for survival.

“You don’t believe me either, do you?” You decide to test the waters, assessing Sol's demeanor behind his neutral exterior.

Sol clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable as he speaks. “I can't say I believe everything you've said, but I don't think you have a reason to lie, given that you admitted this man was your lover.” His gaze meets yours with sincerity. “But some parts don’t make sense...”

“It doesn’t make sense because you believe the Sith have long since vanished," you interject, interrupting him before he can finish. "But I'm telling the truth. I've told you everything. Qimir is a Sith Lord. His goal is the destruction of the Jedi Order, and he won't stop until he achieves it.”

Sol sighs. He remains skeptical of your words and seems caught between belief and doubt, but can’t help feeling concerned, aware that this issue is far too serious to ignore. The implications of your claims could threaten not just the Jedi Order but the stability of the entire galaxy. It is beyond the capacity of a single Jedi Master to decide alone. “The problem is we have no evidence to confirm the Sith still exist,” Sol says cautiously, his tone now even more guarded. “And the way in which these Jedi were killed doesn’t align with typical Sith methods.”

"But it aligns with Jedi methods," you murmur, though Sol hears every word clearly. "He kills Jedi in the Jedi way. That's why you initially suspected the culprit might be one of your own, or perhaps a former Jedi."

Sol's eyes widen in shock, staring at you as if your words are the most startling thing he has ever heard. "How do you know all of this?" he asks urgently, his voice laced with confusion. He clearly remembers that none of these details were shared with you. So where did you get this information?

You offer him a faint, mysterious smile, one that makes Sol feel unsettled in ways he cannot fully explain.

"I know what you know. And I know what you don’t," you say, your blue eyes momentarily distant and lost in thought. "Your suspicions aren’t wrong. Qimir isn’t his real name, and he was once a Padawan among you. As for the rest... you’ll have to find the answers from your own people—someone who knows him far better than I do."

Sol is taken aback, concern reflected on his face. For the first time, the words of this stranger evoke a pang of fear within him. "Who are you talking about? Who among us knows the Sith Lord?"

"Your friend, Master Vernestra."

Sol furrows his brow, thinking of the Mirialan Jedi Master, who is indeed his friend. At this point, Sol's doubts multiply as he struggles to find answers for himself. How does she know about Vernestra when they've never even met? he wonders.

Sol turns his gaze back to you, his eyes now filled with analysis and wariness. He's no longer sure how to feel about you—whether to be amazed or afraid.

"Who are you really?" he finally asks.

In truth, the more appropriate question would have been, “What are you?”

You sense the confusion and doubt etched on his face, making you start to wonder as well. "You really don't know who I am?" you ask, almost to yourself.

Sol shakes his head, not pausing to consider his response. "I don't know you, and I’m sure no one else here does either."

How is that even possible? You wonder; the memory is still vivid. When Qimir first captured you, he warned that the Jedi were after you too. You were certain their intentions were the same as everyone else's—to claim the power of the last Bene Gesserit for themselves. That's why you always avoided the Jedi. But when things changed between you and Qimir, you had no choice but to reluctantly seek refuge with the Jedi, knowing it was your best chance to evade Qimir.

You had prepared yourself for the possibility that your secret would be exposed here, which is why you dared to use your visions in front of Sol. Even though you hadn’t said you were a Bene Gesserit, you knew that the Jedi, who already held an interest in the Bene Gesserit, could easily piece the truth together on their own.

Yet, Sol’s response is not what you expected.

Confusion swirls within you as you meet Sol’s gaze. You desperately want to peer into his thoughts to understand what he’s truly thinking, but you can’t do that. Despite having prophetic powers, you lack the ability to read minds like a Force user. This limitation makes predicting the future so difficult—human thoughts are ever-changing, and so too is destiny.

However, Bene Gesserit training provides a solution to this weakness through a technique known as the 'Way of Perception.' This method focuses on observing every minute detail in your conversation partner’s movements—like the slightest twitch of a facial muscle, a shift in the eyes, or a swallow—each subtle gesture that reveals their true intentions. By employing this meticulous observation, a Bene Gesserit can analyze another’s thoughts, discerning truth from deception without relying on the Force.

You use the Way of Perception on Sol, meticulously observing his reactions and analyzing them as you have been trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit. What you discover is that he’s telling the truth. Sol and the others here neither know of nor acknowledge the existence of someone like you—a Bene Gesserit.

In that moment, a realization hits you with blinding clarity—a truth you have never considered until now: Qimir has been lying to you all along.

You remember when he first approached you out of sheer curiosity, manipulating your fear of the Jedi to keep you from running. He worked to earn your trust, all in a bid to uncover your secrets. When Qimir finally learned that secret, he realized you were too valuable to fall into anyone else’s hands. So, he killed everyone who knew about you, all to keep your power under his control.

And what better way to control someone than through love?

That’s exactly what he did to you. Qimir tried to make you fall in love with him, to surrender yourself completely—body and soul—to serve his grander purpose. His ultimate plan was to resurrect the Sith and exact revenge on the Jedi. With the aid of a Bene Gesserit, he believed he could conquer the universe.

But what throws everything off course is that Qimir, instead of merely seeing you as a tool to achieve his goals, has become genuinely attached and has fallen in love with you. 

Then, when you decided to drink the Water of Life, you allowed yourself to foresee the terrible future that unfolded, with countless possibilities and impossibilities stretching out before you.

You know that Qimir's plans will never succeed. Sooner or later, he will meet his end before reaching his goal. Even so, your bloodline and his will succeed nonetheless. Anakin Skywalker will become everything Qimir has ever aspired to be—the one to lead the Sith to greatness, the one who brings the Jedi to their ultimate demise. 

And so it goes, you think to yourself. You expected to feel more sorrow, yet you find your thoughts and heart curiously cold.

As days pass, you lose more and more of yourself. It’s as if you’re no longer human but merely a data system, recording and processing the flow of events in your mind. Fate itself has become nothing more than a set of data inputs into a system, repeating endlessly until it loses all meaning.

You resign yourself, allowing your mind to swim once more in the currents of temporal data, hoping you can still alter those paths, even if only slightly.

And you decide to start with Sol.

"I know what you did on Brendok ten years ago, Master Sol."

Your voice comes out deeper and raspier than usual, almost resembling a man's voice rather than your own.

Those words hit Sol like thunderbolts. You instantly read his reaction, analyzing every movement. The tensing of his shoulders betrays the fear he's trying to suppress. Sweat beads on his temple, indicating pressure and dread. His lips tremble, momentarily rendering him speechless.

It’s a secret Sol has kept hidden from everyone. In the past, when he was still a Jedi Knight, Sol was part of a team assigned to explore Brendok after the planet endured a devastating natural disaster. There, he encountered twin girls named Osha and Mae—children born of the Force, raised by a coven of witches, a group of women attempting to mimic the ways of the Bene Gesserit, who had been hiding on this planet for quite some time.

The twins' strong connection to the Force sparked Sol’s hope that they could undergo training to become Jedi Padawans. However, the witch coven opposed him fiercely. Osha and Mae were the future of their coven; they wanted the girls to inherit the witches' path. They didn't want the Jedi to take their children away, as had happened to other families across the galaxy before.

Tensions between the witches and the Jedi finally reached a breaking point when Sol accidentally killed Aniseya, the twins' mother and the leader of the witch coven. This triggered a violent battle, resulting in the deaths of the entire coven, including the twins, who were trapped in a burning building during the fight.

That calamity has haunted Sol ever since, a nightmare and stigma he has carried to this day.

The entire story was covered up by the surviving Jedi, as this grave mistake could have led to their permanent expulsion from the Order. There's no way an outsider like you could know this secret, which is precisely why you bring it up. You understand that this is the only way to prove the truth of your words and make Sol fully believe what you’re about to reveal to him.

You lock eyes with Sol, unwavering, before unveiling your truth.

"I possess foresight. I can perceive all secrets and discern the fates of every life. That is why you must trust me."

What’s happening to Master Sol?

Yord ponders, watching as the once-calm Jedi Master suddenly storms out of the interrogation room, his face pale as if he has just seen something profoundly terrifying.

For a moment, Yord hesitates. He considers asking what happened but ultimately decides to stay silent. He remains where he is, observing from afar as Sol approaches. Yord notices that Sol seems entirely unaware of his presence, lost in his own thoughts and drifting past him as if he isn’t even there.

Yord's gaze follows the Jedi Master until he disappears down the hall. A frown forms on Yord’s face before he turns his attention to the steel door of the interrogation room where Sol had just exited.

Suddenly, Yord feels it—a deep, undeniable sense of certainty, as certain as knowing the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. He knows what's inside that room. He knows exactly what made Master Sol so shaken. He knows who is in there.

Yord bites his lip, torn between the urge to open that door and simply walk away. But curiosity wins over; he takes a step forward, tension rippling through his body. Cautiously, he pushes the door open and steps inside.

There you are, seated on a chair, with only a metal table separating you from him. You greet him with a faint smile, your demeanor calm, showing no surprise, as if you’ve been waiting for him all along, or perhaps you already knew he would come.

“It’s good to see you again, Yord.”

Hearing his name makes Yord freeze. It’s not just the fact that you know his name, even though he’s never told you, but the way you say it—your words and tone are exactly as they were in his dream last night.

There’s something eerily familiar about you, something Yord can’t quite shake off. It’s as if you and he share a connection that runs far deeper than the mere acquaintance, although he still doesn't know who you really are.

For the first time, Yord begins to suspect that he’s caught up in a mysterious and complex pattern beyond his understanding—something his mind can barely comprehend. 

And he knows. The only person who can explain it all is you.

Yord takes a deep breath and moves to sit in the chair across from you, his hands clenching nervously in his lap. “This might sound strange, but... I dreamt about you before we even met,” he says, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “I saw your life. I glimpsed what has happened and what will happen to you. How is that possible? Why do I feel like I've known you all my life when we've just met?”

“Dreams are messages from the deep,” you reply. “They’re a form of prophecy, a sign of the gift we both share. But your family's lineage has abandoned the old ways, which is why your power is weaker than mine.”

Yord senses a hint of sympathy in your voice. Though you speak of it as a gift, he can tell you view it more as a burden—an inescapable curse.

His eyes lock onto yours, searching for answers, but when your piercing blue gaze meets his, it feels like you’re the one reading him instead. In that instant, he’s certain that those eyes can see straight into the depths of his soul.

"You mentioned my family... Do you already know who I am?" he asks. 

"I do," you nod. "Our ancestors are connected."

With each word you speak, Yord’s confusion only deepens. "How do you know all of this? Did you see it in a vision?"

"I didn’t see it; I was there," you correct him. "I stood at the mouth of the cave the day my sister was born. I held her in my arms. That child grew into a woman, and eventually she loved and secretly gave birth to a daughter before she died. Your bloodline began with her."

"How is that even possible?" he argues, his voice growing tense. "How could you have been there thousands of years ago?"

"I’m not telling you this to make you believe. I’m simply informing you." You give Yord a gentle smile, a fond smile like an elder gives to a child. "If we’re counting, you are as much my descendant as she is."

Yord raises an eyebrow in surprise. He just notices that your choice of pronouns has suddenly shifted. Instead of using ‘I’ to refer to yourself, you now use ‘she’ as if you’re speaking about someone else.

And then it hits him. Yord suddenly realizes that the woman in front of him is no longer herself. Her spirit is tainted, like clear water muddied with black ink. Something is possessing her—something he both fears and cannot comprehend, like an ancient mystery sealed away for eons, only now unraveling.

“Who the hell are you?!” Yord shouts, one hand instinctively reaching for the lightsaber at his side, ready to strike if the person in front of him makes any sudden moves.

But you remain calm, unshaken by the threat of violence. "You know exactly who I am," you reply evenly. "Think carefully. Your mother warned you about my coming. You’ve always known who I am, just as I’ve always known who you are."

Your words send a shiver down Yord’s spine. His throat tightens, and he finds himself unable to speak. 

He remembers clearly what his mother warned him about before she passed away. Her wrinkled hand gripped his tightly as she whispered the important secret of the universe that no one knew except him—the return of that person.

All his life, Yord had dismissed those words as nothing more than the ramblings of a dying woman—just imagination and meaningless superstition. But today, when he faced you himself, he finally realizes that it was all true.

As the truth crashes down on him, Yord unknowingly utters the words.

“Lisan Al-Gaib.”

A/N :

Yord when he know who you are

[beauty-and-passion]

Tackling The Magnus Archives

I hope you’re satisfied, TMA fandom.

For a lot of time, I’ve seen this fandom everywhere: posts, fanarts, even more fanarts, people mentioning scary stuff and an overall positive reaction about this series.

At first, I didn’t pay it any attention. It seemed just like any other series, with nothing exceptional about it. But the more time passed, the more fanarts I saw, the more they got my interest. I still had no idea what the series was about, but it looked interesting. Maybe there was something I didn’t notice before.

So… why not give it a try?

Cool, what’s the plan?

From the moment I decided to give this series a try, I ran away from all spoilers. That means I am currently facing a series I have no idea what will be about. I know nothing about the plot, nor the characters.

Well, nothing except for a few things I accidentally learned before:

Jonathan Sims is the protagonist. I think?

There is a Michael somewhere

Also, a Martin doing stuff

There are a lot of names

And a library

I’ve also seen a spider lady

Someone explores a dungeon? Is there a dungeon in this story?

There is a homoerotic story too

I also recently found out there is a season 2 - or a related series? No idea what the plot is about, but we will find out along the road.

How?

I had two choices: to analyze every single episode (and die of old age because it would take an eternity) or listen to the whole series first, then write one/several posts analyzing it. But it would still take a lot of time and I will inevitably forget a lot of stuff or don’t cover things as well as they deserve.

So, I chose a third option: to tackle the series ten episodes at a time and write a post with my impressions about all of them. (a bit like I do for Eurovision, only for TMA). This way:

I’ll cover every episode

I will remember more stuff

I will post constantly, so you won’t have to wait forever for me to finish the whole thing first

It will be funnier and more entertaining

Is there something we should/shouldn’t do?

I want my impressions and comments to be as genuine as possible, but in order to do that, I shouldn’t know anything about what I will read.

That means I will actively avoid every little information about the series. It doesn’t matter if it’s about harmless or well-known info: I won’t read it, period.

So please, do not write me anything about this series. I will not read any ask regarding TMA. You can still ask me stuff and write comments, sure. And you can put spoilers if you want, but please: be kind and put a big warning before them. Do not spoil the fun.

What’s the timeline?

Asap: I will write a new post and add it to the main masterlist. This new post will seve as masterlist for TMA and include this introductory post, as well as all other reactions. So If you ever miss one of them, you will read all of them there.

In the next couple days: it will come out the first post with my reactions about chapters 1-10. I’m already working on it, so it should come out very soon.

I will try to keep up a consistent schedule, but can’t promise you anything. I am preparing two exams and my final thesis too, so it might take me some time to post. But I will end this series. By now, you know that when I start something, I finish it.

In conclusion

Thank you in advance to all the people who will follow me in this adventure. If you already know about TMA, you can have fun, by mocking me for my ignorance or wait for the moment I will face the real shit. If you don’t know about TMA, maybe you will find the inspiration to start it - or to do it with me. It’ll be fun! And even if the series ends up being bad, at least we can laugh together at how terrible it is.

See you very soon with the first post about chapters 1-10.

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

TAGLIST:

@royalprinceroman @mudpuddlenl@allmycrushesaredead @aquatedia@whatishappeningrightnow  @effortiswhatmatters @bella-in-a-bag  @doydoune @forever-third-wheeling​ @payte @hypnossanders​  @idontreallyknow24​  @imcrushedbyarainbowoffical​ @patton-cake​  @hereissananxiousmess​  @purplebronzeandblue​  @cynicalandsarcastic​ ​@lost-in-thought-20​ @andtheyreonfire​ 

@riseofthewerewolf​ @rosesandlove44​���  @chewy-rubies @groaaaaan​ @arya-skywalker  @csi-baker-street-babes @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @reesiereads

@dracayd-universe​ @starlightnyx​ @stubbornness-and-spite​ @averykedavra @joyrose-fandomer @mihaela-tbg @igonnatalknothing

@thatoneloudowl  @grayson-22  @softangryfuckingdepressed @theotherella  @boopypastaissalty @nevenastark @varthandiveturinn @roses-bubbles @cuter-on-the-inside  @coldbookworm  @snixxxsmythe @charmingcritter  @analogical-mess @emphasis-on-the-oopsie @selfdestructivecat @yangwalkerao3 @the3rddenialist

[thefinalboss387]

Okay so I am currently watching through Black Sails for the first time and

I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOOOOOVE THEIR PORTRAYAL OF EDWARD “BLACKBEARD” TEACH

Gonna explain why under the cut. And also ask some questions that people who know a lot about pirates and/or are familiar with other great pirate shows/movies can hopefully answer for me!

Before I go any further, I want to preface everything by saying that I just finished season 4, episode 5 today. It’s my first time watching the show (so please don’t spoil anything beyond that episode for me), and so far I can happily say it is one of the best TV shows I’ve ever seen. I’m SO impressed with the layers and depth of the story, how literally EVERY action has consequences (even the ones you don’t expect), etc. This show has all the political intrigue and power dynamics of Game of Thrones, without the noticeable decline that show unfortunately had. Season 4 has been AMAZING so far and I don’t expect the next half of the season to disappoint me. I’m genuinely starting to get a little sad that I’m so close to the end, because... NOW WHAT???

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE SHOW UP TO SEASON 4 EPISODE 5

My only real experience with pirate fiction or history at all before this show was really Pirates of the Caribbean and Peter Pan. Even Treasure Island I’m largely unfamiliar with - I remember watching the Muppet version as a kid, I loved Treasure Planet but admittedly haven’t seen it in decades, and I barely remember either version, but yeah. I was recently in a pirate mood after that new Peter Pan movie came out on Disney+, Googled recommendations for a good pirate show, and Black Sails was the top of that list. And BOY am I glad I gave it a shot!!!

In particular, I found myself REALLY drawn to the character of Blackbeard. He showed up pretty late in the story so obviously I have a lot of other favorites as well, but he won me over VERY quickly. I’m at a point in my watch through where Teach is now dead, and unless he keeps coming back in Miranda-style visions (doubtful), I thiiiiink I’ve seen his entire story and am at a place where I can comfortably talk about his character arc?

Honestly, my only complaint is that I wish we saw more of him. He only ultimately shows up for like maybe 10 episodes, but MAN what a presence he brought with him!! As soon as he first showed up in that cabin being confronted by his ex-wife’s angry family, I was excited. He was played by the late RAY STEVENSON!!! I’ve only seen that particular actor in one other role, but he was my favorite Dexter villain BY FAR, so I knew he’d kill the role. I’m also super excited to see him in the upcoming Ahsoka show, but that’s neither here nor there lol. I feel like Teach’s overall lack of screentime hurts his chances of landing himself in my “favorite characters of all time” list, but I need time to digest the show for a bit before I decide on things like that. Because in the limited time we DO get with him, he hits all the right buttons for me!

I know Blackbeard is a super-famous real life pirate, and that he shows up a lot in popular fiction, but the only real knowledge I have of the man is what we saw in Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. His portrayal in that movie was.... fine? I didn’t dislike him, but he definitely didn’t impress me either. He was a serviceable villain in a franchise that has had way better and more effective villains.

I work with kids, I serve as a mentor figure to them, and honestly my mission is to be the adult I wished I had in my life when I was a kid. Mentor/mentee, parent/child, “found family” relationships are something I LOVE to explore in fiction. Since I also tend to love villains, a lot of my FAVORITE fictional characters of all time are villains that explore a more toxic, dark side of those mentor relationships.

What I love about this portrayal of Blackbeard, primarily, is his relationship with Charles Vane. Despite how dangerous and arguably toxic both men are, their relationship was surprisingly sweet.

Blackbeard is a SCARY dude, and he very quickly establishes himself and makes it clear that he hates how soft and docile pirate society has become in his absence, and immediately goes about building a crew of hardened badasses that violently prove their worth to him. Yet, everything about his relationship with Vane is empathetic, understanding, and gentle.

Now, obviously, Vane is one of the most hardened and badass characters in the show. It’s easy to see why someone like Blackbeard would take a liking to someone like Vane. He grows to see Vane as a son, and despite the betrayals Vane puts him through, Teach never holds it against him, never lifts a finger to harm him, and even passionately seeks to avenge his death after the fact. His absence for literally half of the show’s run is because Vane betrayed him and exiled him, and in his words, he left because he would’ve had to kill Vane if he stayed.

He reveals, privately, to his lover that he is slowly dying from shrapnel in his chest, and wants to cement a legacy for himself through Vane - a fact that he never actually TELLS Vane or anyone else because he doesn’t want to manipulate or guilt him. Everything about Teach’s motivations revolved around Vane. But even beyond that, he grows something of a mentor-y dynamic with Jack Rackham after Vane’s death, and it’s implied that he took Israel Hands under his wing before Vane. He is entirely driven by his need for a son, even if that son is not biological -- after Vane’s betrayal, he laments that only God makes sons. As someone who also really wants to be a parent, and has a lot of mentor relationships instead, I really relate to that sentiment and feel the heartbreak behind it.

I genuinely love his style. A brilliant tactician, yet so ruthless and violent in a fight. I loved that he would be sword fighting people, only to randomly pull out a gun and shoot his opponents in the face. I loved his death scene and his utter defiance right until the very end. He wasn’t looking to make a statement, or inspire a riot, he just wanted to fuck with his murderer and ruin his moment.

So, I have a question for the pirate enthusiasts out there. How accurate is this version of Teach? Did he have this tendency to take people under his wing and mentor them despite his ferocity? Are there other fictional portrayals of him out there that have that quality to him? Even in Pirates of the Caribbean, he was pretty notable for the relationship he had with Angelica, who may or may not have been his daughter, but how genuine and caring that relationship was is left pretty ambiguous from both sides.

Either way, Black Sails is really sparking my interest in pirates in general! I recently purchased Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag on Steam, and plan to play that very soon. I went and downloaded the shows Crossbones and Our Flag Means Death, but haven’t started watching them yet. I downloaded the anime One Piece, but am unsure when/if I want to watch it because holy crap it’s a huge commitment haha. It also occurs to me that I should probably read/watch Treasure Island, but I am fully aware that the pirate characters are two-dimensional villains without any of the complexity or nuance of Black Sails, so that’s disappointing. I know almost nothing about any of those above shows/anime/movies/games though so I’m in for a ride!!

But, my pirate enthusiast friends, another question: Any other great pirate media out there I should go consume?? I already know I’m going to miss this show when it’s over so I’m already starting to look for the next thing to watch to keep myself busy!

[yeunno]

Review One

One of Us is Lying by Karen M McManus

as always i would like to note that this review contains spoilers for One of Us is Lying by Karen M McManus. if you do not want the book spoiled, do not read this! at all! i will begin spoiling shit immediately <3

first of all, i should begin by noting that i bought this book knowing the entire plot line from start to finish. i already knew who the alleged “killer” was, knew everyone’s secrets, and still went ahead and purchased this book. and i definitely dont regret it at all. the start of the book keeps you intrigued because they get to the point quick. simon has his accident(?), the drama starts a bit, and then you find out that he dies, and you’re left wondering why. i think the book did a great job of keeping interest high. it’s definitely hard to say if i would feel this way at all if i didn’t quite literally have the whole book explained to me, perhaps maybe i was always interested because i already knew what would happen next, but i think the slight-yet-not-too-long drawing-out of the secrets and how they all handle them differently, especially with the fact that cooper’s real secret wasn’t revealed to us for a while, and the public/his family for even longer. i think that one of my main criticisms comes into okay here, though, because between cooper denying his use of steroids and the planted phones at the beginning, it was, on occasion, hard to determine what was true and what was not. at the beginning, when bronwyn mentions that the phone in her bag wasn’t her, simon says something along the lines of “you too?” at first i took this as simon mocking bronwyn, like he thought her excuse was dumb. and with the steroids, i don’t remember cooper explicitly stating to the reader that he wasn’t taking steroids until a bit later. i’m mildly disappointed that nate and bronwyn didn’t end up together at the end until a bit farther into the epilogue, as i was honestly routing for them. i do, however, understand that it’s probably a decently realistic scenario, as they led such different lives, but i did want them to work out. bronwyn had a nice little “i can change him” mentality that i honestly really wanted to be true. then, in the epilogue, they don’t even have their shit fixed, and they’re some weird on-and-off long-distance couple. which, again, slight bonus points for realism, buttttt i did not want said realism in this situation :) plus, this is combatted by the unrealistic nature of the fact that no one looked into simon himself and how fucking ODD it was that all four students claim to have a phone planted in their bag, and they all ended up in detention with simon the day he was going to write shit about them. you’re telling me that no one IRL would look into that? eli and his big brain really came through with that one. i found it really heartwarming that kris was the one to solve the whole problem, essentially the first time that cooper is OUT out with him, in more ways than one. i liked that little touch.

i think that that’s all i’ve got for this review. i could make a whole separate post on the show, please don’t watch it, you’re going to hate addy and everything just moves too quick. granted, only watched the first episode, but i was immediately not… not at all into it.

One of Us is Lying by Karen M McManus

overall, i really enjoyed this book. was satisfied with the delivery, had minimal complaints, and was sort of dying to read the book whenever i had a free moment, and even when i didn’t. i will say, though, it was a book that i could put down, and when i did put it down it was down for a little bit before i picked it back up again. but i think that everyone’s development was done very well and the suspense factor was not drawn out too much nor was too quick. very good book, sort of looking forward to reading the next one, though probably not for the writing style, but the plot itself. very much enjoyed

final rating: 8/10

thanks for reading my shitty little book review! let me know what you thought! if you have anything you’d like me to read, please let me know!

see you on the other page!

[ravenpureforever]

Soooo….with my love of KinnPorsche slowly dragging me down into watch Thai BL, I decided after watching Ingredients for Jeff Satur, I’m going to watch My Engineer for Perth! I saw the first episode of the RamKing Retrospective Perth did, and I was like, without checking anything out about the show, I’m going to watch and finish My Engineer.

And that was an experience, let me tell you.

 KinnPorsche spoiled me a little too much

First episode, I had no knowledge of what I was getting into and it was a dumpster fire of confusion. But I’m a man on a mission, and I keep pushing through because I saw the first episode of the RamKing retrospective, I know deep down, there is a light at the end of that tunnel.

And on some level, I was right because every time Perth was in a scene everything brightened up, and like jesus, his visual acting is so incredible and that it’s like he is just completely blowing every other couple out of the water with a single expression. He’s my best boy and I was here for him and King and I stayed that way.

The main couple kind of melted my brain, but I did really enjoy their friend groups though! They were fun and added humor and made me enjoy a lot of parts and kept me somewhat invested in things that weren’t RamKing and it’s because of them I finished the show.

The couples, in order of enjoyment:

-RamKing: 100/10, they are the golden couple making it all worth it, the reward amidst the drama, the reason I keep going, this a Jane Austen Shakespearean type romance of communication and heartfelt vulnerability and intimacy amidst their dumpster fire friends, the actors have incredible chemistry and were carrying this show on their backs

-BossMek: Definitely cheesy but I’m a sucker for pining and being in love with your best friend and the whole selfless sacrifice of love trope and the totally no married couple, so I had fun with them. Also Mek looked like a sobbing wet poor little meow meow of a kicked puppy like 95% of the time and I loved that

-BohnDuen: It’s 3:00 am, I’ve lost control of my life and I just want to feel something again so I’ve turned to this

-FrongThara: Burn it from my brain, I didn’t see it, it does not exist, somehow both blander than boiled chicken??? Didn’t think that was possible. The type of thing I read one paragraph and immediately exit out of and try and get some bleach for my mind because a few sentences turned me off a theoretically fun story that much. I don’t man but every time they are on screen I was like I will even take more BohnDuen, please just end my suffering

Overall though:

- I am a raccoon so I always have some fun with trashy media, so I spent a good amount of time cackling at things

-“Duen is my wife!”/“Bohn is the bottom!” My brothers in Christ neither of you are getting laid in the first place

-Me every time Ram was shown: There he is! There’s my favorite boy!!

-Seriously every single on Ram’s expressions and actions mean everything to me, they are *chef’s kiss* perfection

-By episode 9, I decided I no longer had time for all this and my brain was starting to fizzle out, but I refused to give up because I was already invested in a.) finding out how the fuck this show is going to end with it’s buckwild plot b.) I wanted to know what’s going to happen with RamKing and BossMek and I wanted to know the context for them, and every single Ram and King individual scene so I refused to give up

-So what I’d do is put the episodes on 2x speed and then when Ram or King showed up, I’d put in back on normal speed so I could enjoy them properly. If it was BossMek or the friend groups, I’d have on 1.5x-1.25x speed depending on my investment level

-This show was trippy experience from beginning to end and kind of a complete train wreck at times and the camping subplot was the weirdest thing and I still don’t fully know why they had it and there were far too many times where I had no fucking clue what was going on or what the point of this subplot was but I definitely had some fun watching it and got a good amount of enjoyment

-The one couple that kept me going, the only reason I was here and I pushed through everything for, didn’t officially get together!

-RamKing had a tent kiss, they shared a bed, I finally thought everything was coming together for this beautiful slowburn strangers to friends to lovers relationship of intimacy and vulnerability and kindness! I had won, I had totally won!

-And then King wanted to pretend it never happened, put me through the five stages of grief in the course of like 5 minutes, Ram thankfully didn’t forget but King left to go to his grandma’s house with no communication or indication of what’s going to happen moving forward.

-It’s fine we’re fine I’m not dying on the inside

-It’s not like they said they were doing a season 2 and then there’s been no word about season 2and I desperately want to know what happens with RamKing

-Well at least I can console myself with Perth’s RamKing retrospective!

-I was really way too spoiled with KinnPorsche, huh?

[travllingbunny]

Thank you for the tag, @ryder616!

This tag game has unexpectedly led to an interesting discussion about what exactly an “Endgame Ship” means... which seems to be largely open to interpretation. I’m still not sure how I see that term, but for the purposes of this post, but to narrow it down and not mention way too many ships, I’ll take Endgame in two different meanings: for “Favorite Ship(s) That’s Endgame”, I’ll take it to mean pairings that were together and in a happy relationship at the end of the story. But for “Ship(s) You Wish Had Been Endgame”, I will take “Not Endgame” to mean that the ship was not treated as these characters’ main romance at the end of the show, or at least there was a lot of ambiguity and/or a rival ship for one or both characters was instead the current one at the end of the story. (A lot of my favorite ships have the tendency to end up unhappily in spite of being portrayed as the main romance of the story..)

Warning: this post contains spoilers for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Agents of SHIELD, The Hunger Games, The Leftovers, The Americans and The 100 (though if you’ve spent any time on my blog, you’ve certainly already been spoiled for the ending of The 100) and .

1. First Ship - When I was about 4 or 5, I was obsessed with Lady and the Tramp (I had a book version with a few pictures and it fell apart from how much I was reading it - it may have been my first book that wasn’t mostly a picture book), so I guess my first ship was two dogs (which is really appropriate, since I love dogs). If we’re talking TV, again going back to my childhood, before puberty and before I even knew what “shipping” was, I remember being pleasantly surprised when Raquel first appeared on Only Fools and Horses as a love interest for Del Boy - the show was an episodic comedy where the two brothers, in the early years, usually didn’t have a serious love interest. I thought “oh, he really is in love with her! And she feels the same, and they are so cute together.” I hoped she’d come back and wouldn’t just be a one episode character but a long-term LI. And then I was so happy when that very much did happen. I guess this can be considered the start of my TV shipping (and also an early sign of my love for contuinity and longer arcs on TV).

2. First OTP - Ignoring pre-puberty: at the age of 12, I was really obsessed with Wuthering Heights and Heathcliff and Cathy and read the book who knows how mny times. Regarding TV, I’ve shipped over the years, but I guess the first TV ship I would really call my OTP was in This Life, a 1990s UK drama about a bunch of 20-somethings in London, which I watched on TV in 2001. which now sadly seems almost forgotten. Anna and Miles had an on-off, love-hate relationship throughout - they were sexy, snarky, and it was painfully obvious that they were in love, but these idiots had trouble admitting it to themselves and even more to each other. If it had been a romcom, they would’ve been certain to end up together, but it was a realistic drama.

3. Current Favorite Ship - Bellarke - oh, what an OTP of all OTPs that was before it was stupidly destroyed out of spite. Over the last couple of years, Dark (season 3 mostly) made me really love Jonas and Martha (the first pairing I’ve made gifsets about), and most recently (last month!), I binged Halt and Catch Fire and fell in love with the show and with Joe and Cameron’s relationship (which, I just realized now, shows that my taste in OTPs hasn’t changed in 20 years).

If we’re talking current as in, in current shows rather than finished ones, then  Kanej (Shadow and Bone), Harlivy (Harley Quinn), Gereon and Charlotte (Babylon Berlin) and  Roy and Keeley (Ted Lasso).

4. Your ship since the first minute - I really rarely ship anything from the first minute (unless we’re talking Morticia and Gomez, who are of course already a perfect couple and nothing ever changes there). It usually takes time for me to fall for a ship. A rare exception is Roy and Keeley - their first one-on-one scene in S1 already had huge OTP vibes. 

5. Ship(s) You Wish Had Been Endgame - Do I even have to say it? BELLARKE. A hundred times Bellarke, who were portrayed as endgame before the showrunner decided to retcon and ruin them together with the show overall.

Others: Jessica and Luke in Netfix Narvel shows, May and Andrew on AoS, Willow and Oz; or, depending on how you interpret Endgame, Willow/Tara (some argue that it is Endgame as Tara is definitely portrayed as the love of Willow’s life regardless of everything else). Spuffy (again, there are different opinions as to its status as both the show and the comics ended ambiguously and tried not to have a clear Endgame pairing for Buffy’s character), Xander/Anya (if you take comics into account).

6. Ship You Wish Was Canon - Some would say Bellarke, again, but I tend to consider it canon. It’s debatable, for sure (if you only consider making out/sex and/or “I love you” as markers of canon, it is not canon; if it is enough for the show to make it so blatant in the first 6 seasons that you have to actively search for ways to deny it to make it sound platonic, and for actors to confirm it was portrayed as romantic- than it is.)

So my answer would be: Kastle (Netflix Marvel shows), QuakeRider (AoS), and Octavia and Diyoza (The 100) and maybe Faith and Buffy (mostly in the sense that canon could have explored the nature of Faith’s feelings for Buffy a bit more and a bit more openly).

7. Ship that Most of the Fandom Hates, but You Love - Angel and Darla, May and Andrew, Coulson and Rosalind (hated how it ended though). Miller and Bryan (because they were more interesting than Mackson, and Bryan had a personality), Though “ships that most of the fandom ignores” would be a more apt term. The one that most of the fandom does hate and I like it is Octavia/Ilian - I liked it for what it was, two damaged people finding comfort together in what could have grown into something more - instead of the “we’re ve just met and talked to each other once and we’re already IN LOVE!” trope that the writers of The 100 were so fond of.

8. You Don’t Even Watch the Show, but You Ship It - Why would I ship something from a show I don’t watch?

9. Ship That You Wish Had A Different Storyline -  BELLARKE (duh - the ending). Veronica and Logan (the ending, again). Coulson/Rosalind - they had such an interesting and fun dynamic that could have been explored much more; instead, the writers opted for one of the worst tropes there are, and I hated that entire plotline for so many reasons. Tyrol and Boomer on Battlestar Galactica - what they did with Boomer was crap. Baltar and Caprica - all the bad writing in season 4. This is a weird example of a ship that I shipped so hard for 3 seasons and that was given Endgame in every sense of the word, but, by that point, I barely cared anymore, because the writers forgot about their relationship throughout the final season and made it seem like they didn’t even remember each other, and then slapped a last minute happy ending. Plus they retconed/explained their connection in such a stupid and anticlimactic way that ruined it retroactively.

10. Favorite Ship(s) That’s Endgame - Everlark, Nora and Kevin (The Leftovers), Philip and Elizabeth (The Americans), and Josh and Della on Night and Day (a really obscure early 2000s UK show that was watched by maybe 100 people.) Some others worth mentioning: FitzSimmons, Niles and Daphne, Tim and Dawn (original UK The Office), Jake and Amy, Memori (the only bright spot in a rubbish ending). And of course, there’s Morticia and Gomez, though they are less Endgame and more AlwaysGame.

Tagging: @jeanie205 @kizo2703 @poppykru @sheigarche @weareagentsofnothing @sometimesrosy @misskittyspuffy @otp-armada @carrieeve @sexy-zeitreise-detektiv @jonaskanwalds @immortalpramheda @ladyofthefrostfangs @tennyo-elf @fandomkru @natassakar @hadrianvonpaulus @sillier-things @angearia @thekawaiislartibartfast @foolishnymeria @erikiara80 @heartbellamy and anyone else who sees this - sorry I didn’t tag you and please consider yourself tagged. :)

[ov105]

Redeye

After some delay, and a bit of coincidence. I have reached another summit. It is only appropriate I finish this exactly on Juri’s birthday (10-3-97). 

8,483 words of Takahashi Juri.

In case I don’t see you: Good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

"Last call for Flight 62, last call for Flight 62." 

Damn me. 

If that was what an unjust sentence sounded like, there it is. Running around Narita's terminal with a suitcase in hand and a jacket in hand as I ran to the gate. Barely cutting it to the gate, breathing a sigh of relief as I handed the ticket to the gate agent, calming myself and taking a swig of sanity back as I turned into the tube and almost found it like walking to a conference. It's all quiet until you turn at the last corner, with the flight attendants, all caked up and primly dressed, greeted me as I stepped into the plane, with everybody settling down into their seats.  

Being in a first-class suite for a transpacific crossing was something I would usually never think of even when sitting in the large office chair. But here I was, a week after selection and flying off to my first international assignment in months. 

"Anything you'd like to have before takeoff, sir?" A charming young flight attendant said. Breaking the silence as the ground vehicles whirred outside as they pulled away before pushback. 

"A cola, please, thank you," I replied, still regaining my words as I tried to give my best PR smile to the young lady who just asked me. 

To be fair, she was the prettiest looking among the flight attendants. Probably one of the shorter ones as well, judging by even how her heels didn't hide her petite frame. Another thing was that she seemed to be hiding a voluptuous body behind all those tight clothes. 

The rest of the flight went on as usual, with the Triple Seven pushed back, started engines, and took us 10 minutes taxiing towards the runway. Being holed up in an airplane flying at thirty-four thousand feet, and almost being unbothered by sleepy seatmates. The opportunity that I couldn't be hijacked in my SNS accounts and watch the backlog of movies I downloaded months ago seemed the most practical choice. The in-flight entertainment wasn't bad, but I had my fish to fry.  

It was only about 20 minutes after the opening credits when somebody knocked on the sliding door of the suite I was in. It fussed me, but then I had to see who it was for myself first. 

"Good afternoon, what would you like to have for dinner?" said the same flight attendant that had led me to my seat just an hour and a half ago. Standing on the aisle but just speaking audible enough for me to hear. Sticking to the business script, I asked one thing.

"Is there a menu?"

She did so by her reaching into the cart, out of view from my perspective. My fingers took in the leather-bound menu and opening it. The laptop was to my right, earphones plugged in, but the display itself was connected to the screen before my seat. The attendant must've noticed it when she snuck some of her personality into my little world.

"Ah, this one gets exciting," she said, making me look to the screen and how her eyes were on it, connecting two-and-two.

"Already is, actually," I said, briefly closing the menu and looking up at the pretty egg-faced lady standing on my doorway, "You like these too?" 

"Ah, yes,  I think they're the best type of movies to watch," she replied. I just smiled and agreed, looking down on the menu again. However, I felt the need to put a name on the pretty face that I now just broke the ice with. 

"Hey, if it isn't too rude, what's your name?" I asked, an arm out as she returned the gesture and replied. 

"Juri," she managed to say, telling me that she was a bit shocked. A charming young passenger often doesn't reach out like this. 

"Then, Juri, I'd like this for dinner," I said as I turned the menu facing her and pointing on the set I'd want. She wouldn't know, but that small talk I had with her made me want to get something different for that one moment. I was giving the menu back to her once she jotted it down.

"I'll see you later then, Juri," I replied with my best business smile as she had her hand on the door. She blushed slightly and returned my greeting. Closing the door as she left and found myself settling down again. 

What kind of luck did I just get to do that? I thought as I pressed the spacebar and took a large swig off the cola bottle. The hours passed. The movie had entered into the third act by the time the dinner service came knocking. As expected, it was Juri who knocked on the door and gave me my meal. It was a complete surprise they had improved with the inflight meal. Though maybe it was just me being sulky and all too used to the economy class meals. 

Speaking of relationships with women, it had been a while since I had one. She was just a sex freak who just wanted to fuck so she wouldn't drink herself into a hangover. Being the bearer of her incorrect way of coping with stress, I learned some despite me telling her to see a therapist. We practically fucked almost anywhere; on the beach, in the car, or the mall fitting room - you name it, I probably fucked my ex there. She also liked it when I didn't pull out, provided she ordered it, of course - something about filling a woman up just made me crave it more.

I finished supper thinking about my past, and almost entirely sexual relationship. Last I heard, my ex was slutting up to her new boyfriend too. However, I washed that over as I took another sip to seal the meal. After that, I had all the plates already taken away. I found myself a glass of liquor, with two bottles in the fridge, and pudding to eat as I binged on my laptop. I checked my watch to see it was 11:00 pm, with a small plate of what used to be the bittersweet pudding lying beside me. That was the day's meal for me, so I pressed the call button to see who'd, if there ever would, come to pick it up this time. 

It was Juri. 

"I see you've enjoyed your dinner," She said warmly. I often get referred to by my pronouns like it was in the office, but I let Juri slide for me. 

"And I see you've been dropping the honorifics," I replied as I looked out to the night sky and took a swig. 

"I-I'm sorry..," the Japanese girl stammered out, trying to look me in the eye, but looked down once I put my gaze on her. She looked dejected. Almost like she'd been caught in her tracks being too friendly to her passengers. 

"It's fine, Juri. I didn't mean to sound like that. Trust me, it's alright," I said, trying to reassure her, and in my years of managing, the kinaesthetic element kicked in. Next thing I knew, my free hand was tapping on her right wrist. 

Looking up, I saw Juri was very much surprised at the sudden contact. I shared the same sentiment, my fingers abruptly letting go of her as I retracted it, rubbed my hands together, and took a swig from the glass to try and distract myself from how awkward every second was at that moment. 

"Sorry for that," I said as I fussed on my seat, clearly trying to distance myself as much as possible from the flight attendant, remembering the professional boundary between us. 

"It's okay," Juri replied. Feeling a hand tap my left shoulder while I looked away. I laid my hand on hers and just nodded. I told her that it was okay, though I did find it awkward. 

"I mean come on, I'm not trying to come off as awkward," she began, "I'm assuming we're just the same age, right? Besides, we don't have the purser now. She won't be awake until morning." Juri finished. A purser would be the head flight attendant, so I assumed it was a more youthful cabin crew for the red-eye.

"Hey, it's just us 20 somethings right here," She began, a million scenarios and a million tons of doubt formed in my head as my eyebrow raised a bit. She either wanted to swindle or be true to me.

"Don't tell me you've done this before and scammed the first-class passengers. I'm not falling for it," I shot back, my executive in play. Juri was shocked by the stand-off tone I dropped that in. 

"But okay, continue." 

"I'm not scamming you... can't I just watch a movie with you?" She managed to stammer out, clearly trying to get around my authoritative tone. I've done my fair bit of asking and being asked out by girls as far back as middle school, and being in that generation, if it wasn't a convenience store, and there was nothing big due tomorrow, it was always the movies. I just gulped down - I wasn't expecting it inside an airliner. I moved her aside and peered my head out, checking if somebody may come in.

"You sure nobody will suspect you here?" I asked.

"Not a soul," Juri replied.

I took her by hand and pulled her in, making sure she put her shoes inside to hide. It was a much smaller space than I had imagined, the dainty Japanese lady only having enough room with both of us inside. I moved a bit to make some space, but that wasn't her idea. She unbuttoned her jacket and hung it on the door rack, besides mine. She was crawling up beside me just as the episode started. She laid next to me, now putting into perspective how short she was. But it was not helping me keep away as she crossed her arms, her strapless dark colored bra made her tits bunched up, looking large and soft under the white cloth.

I may have attempted to brush it aside because the movie we were watching was the only one with a gratuitous sex scene in the entire trilogy. I had it spoiled to me by a friend of mine months before when it was the talk of the town and how everybody got their tissue after the credits rolled. 

During the beginning of the sex scene, I noticed she was glancing at me, catching her eyeing me and looking away, keeping to herself. I still looked straight ahead, trying not to think about the tight circumstances we were into.

"You're thinking of something?" I asked, alluding to the obvious.

"Maybe I am." Juri replied - What the fuck. 

I looked at her, and before I knew it, Juri was glancing at my lips, and her hand was below my cheek. Pushing down at her as our lips met, with her moving forward as a simple kiss became a lustful one. The sound of smooching lips soon being replaced by our tongues as I gently pushed her down. Soft hands were moving from my cheeks, past my neck, and onto my collar, feeling her unbutton my shirt as I kissed her deeper. Feeling her soft body up through the fabric like it was dough, hearing her moan ever so slightly while my fingers danced up and squeezed her dainty, yet fleshy frame. 

"Relax, it's not like they'll come looking for me," Juri said as my hand got closer to her chest, now exposed from her playful fingers.

"You've already said that I've just been thinking about this since I saw it," I said as I pressed down the third button on her shirt and popped it open, quickly moving up to the second and doing the same. Juri kept looking at me with those tempting dark brown eyes that told me to slip myself in as her hands pulled me closer. Feeling my way through the crevice and feeling that soft, milky skin, then traveling up to the hem of her bra. Smiling a bit like I just found treasure, before I slipped from below and heard her moan when she felt my fingers brush her nipples.

Stopping a bit as she felt my fingers wrap around her tits, she removed one hand around my cheek and wrapped it around my left forearm and pushed it forward, as if to squeeze her tits. I bit my lip at the feeling of the soft flesh, rightfully firm but just as fluffy as I made them out to be. I kissed Juri again to try and suppress her moans, which grew louder the harder I squeezed. I decided that her bra wasn't helping and slipped my hand out, finding my way up and making quick work of the first, then the last button.

"Let's just get rid of everything," I said as I straightened my back and removed my shirt. Juri was mirroring me as she took hers off. But before she could reach for her bra, my hands slipped under her and moved ourselves to sit against the cabin wall. Now, Juri was sitting on me, her thighs providing enough cushion that it felt warm as her weight sat on me. 

"You're quick," Juri said, talking about how we were watching one moment, and now, she was sitting, half-undressed on me. 

I just continued kissing her, now biting on her lip as our bodies warmed up, both in heat and atop one another. Slipping my hand up her back and inside her bra, unclipping it and hearing her lightly gasp as it came off. Her hands quickly moved to ease herself out, looking like a Greek maiden as she moved temptingly, watching it fall to the pillow before both of our eyes met. Juri then kept an iron gaze now, but I could tell she was just trying not to be shy. She just felt completely naked. 

With a glance on my lips, she moved forward and then had us making out again, sliding my hand up and below her tits, forming a handful and cupping one of her, then lightly squeezing the soft flesh and hearing the slightest hint of a moan as she kissed deeper. I just squeezed harder, my other thumb moving up to flick her nipple. Juri's hands were closing tighter around my neck, almost as if she was trying to deny me her tits for the moment. Moving my tongue against hers now, we've become sloppy, the sound of our lips kissing while our tongues spoke for us made me careless to how precarious our situation was. I could even sense her warmth when she grinded herself a bit. 

"You practiced?" I asked, being surprised she was such a pretty kisser.

"Must be the adult films," Juri replied as she blushed a little, myself chuckling as she avoided my gaze.

Seeing her guard down, I dived down to her tits. Quickly licking her nipple and wrapping my mouth around it, tugging as I rounded my tongue, the little bud. Juri bit her lip and moaned behind it, her hand wrapping around my neck to push me closer. I kept attacking that single nipple for what seemed to be forever. It was almost like I had missed having sex. 

Juri was bearing the brunt of that gated lust as I felt her stick herself ever closer to me. Almost like she was forcing her weight against the wall, My suckling lips and lashing tongue sandwiched between it. I can feel her shudder when I flicked my tongue hard against her nipple, pinching the other between my thumb and index finger. A few times, sucking the soft flesh and tugging it forward, almost making Juri yell as it had overwhelmed her, and giving us away. 

She gave a bit more before pulling back, watching as her nipples became coated with my saliva. Juri herself looked much different from how she did just earlier, her lips wet from how many times she bit and slid her tongue across them, her hair already somewhat messy from when I laid her down. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact she was so close to me now. 

"Still don't want me to-"I said before being cut off.

"-to eat me out? Be my guest." Juri said as she slipped back from me, her hands traveling down her body and into the hem of her skirt, pushing them down and past her thick, stubby legs. She was taking her panties with that tight dress that had covered her ass for so long. Her pussy was shaved and hidden between those smooth thighs. 

Admittedly, I was not too fond of that bold tone. Then I'd instead make Juri yell when I'm eating her out. 

Pushing her off, she took the cue and slid a pillow under her head. Sliding her skirt up and showing me the bow of her panties. I slid my hands up her soft thighs, hooked her by the hem, and pulled it down, almost like I was forcing it off of her. Once I had it out of the way, I hovered over her, my shadow above, slipping my hand between her thighs, quickly sliding my finger against her folds, placing two and rubbing again, pulling it up to see my fingertips glistening, looking at her as if she failed me.

"So much for being daring," I stated, taking control of our situation back to me.

Stepping back on my knees, Juri lifted herself against the wall, just giving me enough space to still be on the bed. Then pulled her back slightly as I put my hands behind her knees and pushed them up, before wrapping my hands around her thighs and almost leaped headfirst into her. She then had a hard time keeping quiet at the sudden warmth that jolted from inside her. Her body jerked at once as I licked her clit. Excitedly smiling, I repeated it. She bit down on her lip as she moaned at the quick, electrifying pressure that came from her. Hands-on my hair as her head dropped to one side and gritted her teeth. She wasn't expecting me to go this fast. 

I quickly turned it up to eleven by engulfing her clit in my mouth, licking away at it. Juri put her fingers around her mouth, hearing her muffled whimpers and moans as her hips rolled. Grabbing her tits and squeezing them just tripled her pleasure as she shook at the relentless pressure on her clit. Looking up to see her eyebrows furrowed as she slowly got a hold of herself and her moans. Her legs closed in, as if she didn't want me to pull back. 

Slowing down for Juri a bit, I move down and begin licking her folds, feeling some of her juices right on my palate as I coursed my tongue upwards just below her clit. Closing my eyes and focusing solely on how my tongue glided into her entrance, almost like prodding a cave. Hearing her muffled moans ever so often as her hand slowly came back around my nape and pulled me closer, with her pushing herself slightly against me. Making her weak when I suckled around her clit, as if I was kissing it. Bucking her hips every so often as breathless moans left the petite flight attendant under my mercy.

"You go any faster, I'd have to replace the sheets," Juri warned as I lifted off her, catching my breath.

"Come on. It's not like I'm going to make you sleep in here, you know," I replied, slowly sliding my hand into position before her pussy, my two fingers looking like two Sidewinders poised to enter. Her folds moist but pristine, a sure sign of her innocence. 

"Besides, it shouldn't be that hard for us to replace, right?" I continued, just as she must've felt her nerves sliding against my fingers. Averting my gaze as I pushed two in, making Juri gasp and bite her lip, hands holding on to the sheets when I combined it with my tongue on her clit. Pressing my fingers made her hips buck again, cutting out the work of having to crane my neck down as Juri ever slowly pushed herself against the wall, her petite frame playing into an advantage for me. She can't keep backing off forever, having to fall prey to my fingers inside her and my tongue as often. 

I dove back down onto her. Focused on the split flesh that had both of my fingers stuck inside it, pushing it deep as I pouted my lips out to meet her clit. Giving it a while as I fingered Juri and listened to her try and stifle her moans. Her hands were sliding back around my neck and pushing me into her. Me pressing my fingers upward while looking for her spot, pressing when she moaned the loudest, knowing I had found her spot as Juri writhed, feeling the soft skin rub ever so often against my sides. 

I guess with how thick Juri is. She bore her shaking better. Feeling her slightly jolt and rock as she hummed and moaned. The whole burning sensation came down to her thighs as she slowly closed them around me, pleading for me to go faster as I intensified the pressure against her. Making Juri slowly put her head back against the bulkhead, barely maintaining awareness whether or not some other passenger was in the suite behind us. Looking up after a bit, Juri saw my lip, all wet from my saliva, and of course, her juices. 

"I told you I'd have to change the sheets," Juri replied, tsk tsk, as she put her fingers under my chin, "Plus, your lips are dirty," she continued as she wiped her thumb over my lower lip, "You've got such a good tongue," she finished with a compliment as she licked her thumb.

"We're pretty much in a rush."

"What do you mean?" I said, an eyebrow raised. 

"How about you let me play with you?" Juri replied. How aggressive of her. I just chuckled before moving forward to kiss her. Both of us moved back with Juri's hand hooked on my belt the moment I was on my knees. Looking up at me as she pulled, it was an unwritten signal to stop before averting her gaze downward and undoing the belt, making quick work of me as I suddenly felt cold, now being more than just half-naked. 

Juri didn't say anything, apart from that sly smile once she saw what she had to play with. Quickly grabbing hold of me as her fingers wrapped around my cock, stroking it, and just as I was quick to get down on her clit, her tongue was already making circles around my head. Sending chills up my spine as she rounded it one, two, three times. Before she pulled back and let me sit down, my legs apart and Juri coming close, she said.

"Been a while for me, but I'll try and be quick," Juri said.

Without using her hands this time as she bowed her head down as her neck craned forward, turned a bit to the side as a glint of breath brushed over the head. Her lips captured me quickly as her mouth formed around my tip, pushing herself down as the warmth of her tongue slid under it. Though she did prefer to wrap her lips around the head, making circles around it until I was hard enough before she went down on my shaft. 

She took a few inches of me and bobbed her head around the shaft, being more used to quick, flame-like licks of her tongue flashing up against my head. Perhaps she wasn't one for deepthroating or getting too dirty now. She just teased a lick before taking half of me in, her cheeks hollowing out as she pulled back. 

I let out a long, low exhale as she took me in slowly. Taking a few inches in and back, and settling at that pace, looking up at me as I had my hands balled up in fists and holding back moans as Juri had her way with me. She popped off and giggled a bit at my seeming misfortune before wrapping her lips around me again and pulling me back in as her tongue danced around my tip. 

She must've guessed me correctly, seeing her eyes glance and feel that my thighs shook and felt limp whether she hit that spot. Juri had seen through me, going deep down my length, then lingering around it before dropping her neck down again. I felt her throat constrict as it reached the end of her mouth, making her pull back and lightly gasp. 

"Fuck, that was a surprise," Juri said, breaking the tension a little as she stuck her tongue out and made rounds with my cock. Before long, she was going as deep as she could, making me hit the back of her mouth, coupled with how she moved her tongue and cheek around me. It was an exercise of patience by itself. She bobbed down five more times before she couldn't hold herself back any longer.

"Don't you just wanna fuck me now?" The Japanese stewardess shot at me. I just beckoned her to come closer as she turned around and showed her ass to me. She sat down with her legs folded back, bending over just a bit to display her plump ass and lips that were begging to be parted. Pulling her back to me, Juri wipes her lips on her wrists before whispering to me, 

"Don't hold back. I wanna feel you." 

Feeling my cock poke against her entrance. I pull both of us back a bit in a position where I could enter my whole length without a problem. She held her ass open, now seeing how truly plump they were, my gaze moving up from her pristine back to see her anticipating stare. Our instincts took over as she pushed back against me, without using our hands, my cock nestled in between her lips. She moaned, biting her lip as she felt it poking against her entrance. Sliding it as I felt the tip become wet, and my impatience greater as Juri smiled a bit between her small moans. 

Suddenly, Juri sat down on me. My cock hardening as it broke through her folds and instantly filled her up. Her walls immediately squeezed as her ass smacked against my groin. Making me throb and throw my head back at the sudden tightness, with her prior orgasm having made her slick. Juri let out a shrill cry, biting her lip as her brain blanked out, reducing both of us to a whimper as she looked back at me, eyebrows furrowed and lip on her teeth. I would've paid greatly to see that. Very much proud of her handiwork as I looked, and was completely vulnerable, my elbows almost failing me as her grip scalded my shaft. Even then, I was beaten to the punch as the feeling in my groin shut me up, weak at first penetration.

"Fuck, I feel so full right now. That kinda hurt," Juri said, almost as if she enjoyed that tinge of such girth surprising her. Her pussy was still squeezing, making her whimper as she began to ride me, her grip unbelievably tight, both of us feeling each other up with my dick snugly being strangled inside her. I was gritting my teeth together, my head throwing back when she rose to the tip and sunk. 

She put her hands behind her back, laying them on my thighs as she supported herself, keeping her back as straight as she could as her ass slowly picked up the pace. Going slowly as she was trying to feel me first, watching her face as it turned sideways, seeing her trying not to lose it as my cock speared into her. Feeling her squeeze, with myself throbbing while her pussy lubricated my shaft, seeing it becoming wetter and wetter as her pace relaxed. 

"I'm going to take a while getting used to this," Juri said as she went halfway up and began to fuck herself on my cock. Beginning to moan as discreetly as she could as she made a metronome for herself, taking it neither too fast nor too slowly. My cock is enjoying every single bit of the tightest pussy and the plumpest ass I've had. Her mouth stuck open as her moans became a bit of a mess. Still not wanting to moan loudly despite our suite being soundproof. 

"If you want to be loud and ride me. Ride me," I ordered. Seeing her stop as she smiled a bit.

Turning her pace up a bit as her moans picked up, sounding like a sweet schoolgirl just as I had thought. Hearing her begin to call out my name and swear to herself in between as she felt herself become so full. I began to feel my toes tiring out from curling so much because of the pleasure she gave to my cock, having never felt this rock hard fucking a woman. Because of that, she was becoming horny enough to go fast with how hard I was, with myself beginning to moan. Almost wanting to take her by the hips and fuck her rough. But I thought it would be a waste to ruin the meal.

"You like that?" I asked as she seemed to get comfortable with her pace, making her snap out of her moaning a bit and breaking her stride.

Juri just nodded through her whimpers. I damn well knew then her stride wasn't going to stop. She's determined to make me feel her at her tightest as she grew slicker as the seconds ticked by. Feeling her constrict ever so often when my cock slid up against her walls, seeing her toes curl in tune with her walls. She wanted to cum on me. She whimpered and shook, her pace increasing immensely as her confidence grew out of that shell.

I've had one night stands with girls before. Often talking about the most mundane things you could think of, with every last one of them pinning me against the door as soon as I closed it. They missed and didn't dare ask what I wanted the most, to take it slow. Yes, it's a bit of a stretch to say Juri rushed me, yet she took her time to know at least a tiny bit of myself, aside from the cock that's inside her, that is. I just thought about it to distract myself. My eyes shut a bit to take in that choking tightness and those sweet little moans that left her mouth. 

Juri then squeezed, leaned forward with her hands down on the bed. Showing even more of our connection as my cock nicely parted her folds open. Juri then pushed back and didn't stop until she hit my groin, herself moaning at the depth. I only followed when she squeezed, pulled, and went back, almost like my cock was getting sucked as her walls formed around it. She gradually picked up her pace, her ass beginning to bounce as it hit me, with her beginning to groan and whimper as she got to speed. I didn't notice she was becoming tighter and tighter by the second as she straightened her back and kept her pace. 

She looked back at me with that look in her eyes as she put her hands back and braced on my knees, her strokes becoming shorter, all while I was deep inside her. She wanted to fuck herself hard and didn't want me to. She wanted to use me to make herself cum as hard as she could. I was feeling myself throb ever so slightly, but while I enjoyed the view of the plump girl, with her ass bouncing, and me spearing into her. I was far from my release, having done my fair share of trying to be beaten to it. Often, girls rushing themselves too much and dragging me, but not Juri. I genuinely enjoyed her.

Though I wanted to have a piece of the pie myself, despite being deep inside it already. I grabbed Juri's hips, my cock slipping out as I pulled my legs back and stood on my knees. Not giving her a second to react as she looked back with furrowed eyes, visibly annoyed as her hip suddenly felt empty. I pulled her arms up to me, and soon she was facing me. Her pretty egg-shaped face with her messy hair a far cry from her prim and proper look earlier, pecking forward to kiss her. As our lips broke away, I glanced down to see my cock wetter than ever before, then slipping it inside her walls. I gave myself a taste of doing it as I felt that tight sensation all over again. 

Quickly giving it to Juri with the short thrusts she was doing to me, but I had penetrated deeper this time around. Turning her annoyance to moans and whimpers as she tried suppressing herself. I could feel her shaking even more now, her tightness making me throb while I grazed over her spot. She was due. 

"Do you like me that much?" Juri asked, out of breath. I gave her another kiss.

"What do you think?" I asked back, "You were gonna cum, weren't you?" I added. She just smiled and gave me another kiss - yes. 

My grip on her hips tightened, and on a rampaging pace, I went, unpredictable, fast thrusts that made Juri lose composure and drop down on the sheets. One moment I went short, and another I was deep in her. Thinking of fucking her just enough to push her over. Biting my lip as I saw myself going fast inside Juri. My groin smacked her ass as it rippled, and I felt that familiar weight beginning to tease me. Having Juri entirely at my mercy as she dropped her head down. Myself wanting to give it to her as I fucked her like an animal, one who slowly had me wrapped around her loins, 

"I'm... I'm gonna cum!" Juri cried out between whimpers before grabbing a fistful of bedsheet in her mouth. Her hands clutched at the sheets, threatening to tear it as she held on. She tightened while I took the cue and dialed down. Moaning aloud as she tightened some more and completely squeezed me as she shook. Her legs were almost closing as she ebbed, backing up against me and sliding my whole length in her. She threw her head back as she felt the entire length of it mid-orgasm. That sudden, final grip made me groan as I did my best to hold back as she rolled her hips back against me. I tried my best to take the pleasure head-on as Juri let her juices out despite the grip she had on me. Finally, she let me hear her as she let go of the cloth in her mouth, her final moans making her breathless as she piped down. Giving her a bit before I pulled out of her, a wet shaft greeted me, with a few of her juices dripping down like honey as I glided my ass over soft, shapely ass. I slid my hand under her and leaned in.

"How was that?" I asked. Juri ran her hands through her hair, clearing her face, responding to me with a kiss.

"Never came that hard before with a guy," Juri replied, inches away from my face.

"Next time, I'm taking you with me," Juri said, both as a warning and as a dare for me to give it to her again.

"I'll remember that," I replied with confidence, chuckled, and put my lips on hers again. She then rolled over, and I lied down, now facing the in-flight TV as Juri blocked the view, being the better one of either. Taking my cock and pushing it against her lips. She moved and slid her lips over it, exploiting how wet they already were as she slid over my dick, teasing herself a bit, walls dripping wet on the underside—lubing it before she stopped and pushed it against her entrance—bucking her hips backward as I watched it disappear back into her. 

"Fuck."

That's what came out of our mouths after I stung back inside Juri. She was much tighter, much slicker, and far better than before. I looked up at the ceiling as my cock throbbed a few times as she went. Biting her lip as she came down the entire length of my cock down to the base, squeezing a bit as she exhaled, giving me that look that she wasn't expecting me to slide so easily. Putting her hands on my chest as she propped her legs down and pulled herself up. Leaving herself on the tip before slamming herself down again, her whole upper body arching back. Taking my chances as she pushed up again, I sat upright, much to her surprise. My lips made a beeline to her tits as she just gazed at me in surprise. Quickly wrapping them and my tongue darting out as I sucked and tugged on her right tit, making her slow down a bit as she whimpered.

"Don't you want me to make you feel good?" Juri said as she pulled me away from her. Seemingly oblivious to how amazing she felt, even more so now. 

"You already are," I replied as I moved to her other tit. Juri took the cue and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and began riding at the perfect pace. Both of us let out sounds of our pleasure over each other's bodies as she did so. I held the stewardess tight in my embrace as she rolled her hips on me. My entire groin felt warm as her juices trickled down from her pussy while my shaft tightly speared inside of her, stirring ourselves for another orgasm.

Rolling and bucking her hips forward and back, in an exchange of slippery kisses and lustful glances. I found myself tugging on her nipples before finding myself on her lips again. Both places being just as right for me, being the beautiful woman she was. Hearing her small whimpers and weak moans as she rode me lovingly, our faces were inches away from one another, sometimes our foreheads together before I went down the sides of her neck, the smooth, milky surfaces all a pleasure to kiss while she rode my cock. 

"You're the first guy to do that," Juri said after I went up to her neck.

"You like it?" I asked, being a party trick I had learned from watching too many Western sitcoms in my youth. 

"It's gonna take a while, but yeah, I like it," she shyly replied. It was just apt, I suppose, with how pretty and smooth her neck was, much more the face it held up. She said, slowing herself down now in slow, deep thrusts, being more confident of herself now to slowly roll over me as she put her hands on my chest and pushed me down, keeping her gaze at me all the while. Her hands on my stomach, groaning as that all too well feeling struck me, reminding me as I throbbed in her while that weight built up. It was a scale getting ever more fragile.

With such finesse, I had a full view of Juri's body in the middle of it all. Her hair was a mess, made messier as she ran her fingers through it, and her face a bit tired like mine. Her soft, milky skin on my fingertips as I traced up from her full thighs, sat against me, to her hips that moved and squeezed around me, past her tummy, all that fat and muscle provided more than enough to hold onto as I was deep inside her. Then up to her breasts as my hands squeezed around them, grabbing the soft mounds of flesh as I felt myself throb in her. We were in that state for a while, the way Juri moved teasing me to either an orgasm as I throbbed ever so often. I was thinking of folding my legs up and charging it home, but I had to do something different. 

"You want me to fuck you?" I asked as she stopped and leaned in, her breath ragged as she gave her strength up fucking me instead. 

"I like that idea," Juri replied, forgetting she'd been doing almost everything since earlier.

"Good. I like fucking you from behind." 

"You don't want to face me?" Juri replied. Thinking I made her feel bad. Wanting to make up for that slight error, I put my hand around her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. 

"Hey, don't you wanna do this again sometime, when we have all the time?" I replied as I seemingly invited her to where I stayed.

"Well, I got all the time off after this, you?" She asked.

"I'll try finishing everything by tomorrow. Then you can come with me."

"Sounds like a plan," Juri replied as she crashed her lips hard on me. Reversing back against me as she reminded me - I was still inside her. Both of us moaning through our liplock as she slowly went back and forth on me before, before rising to a quick gallop that nearly tempted fate as she rocked me with her hips, and by extension, the bed. Before letting me go with a pop, a slick, sensitive mess. 

Juri remained on the bed, myself going around and pulling her further back to the edge of the bed. She just looked at me as she adjusted, with her legs closed and her pussy all for show. Placing a knee up with my leg extended down to the floor, with no hands to guide myself in as my tip homed in between her pussy lips, sliding it up and down carefully before pushing it in. Both of our gazes went straight ahead as I pushed deep into Juri. Pulling back a bit as she was much tighter with her legs closed, and all that slickness helping to suck me in, I couldn't deny I felt myself begin leaking a bit of precum then. 

"You should've closed your legs before," I remarked. 

"I know, fuck. It feels so good," Juri replied, letting out a long moan as I pushed back in again. With my hands on her hips and weight pushing her down, I quickly built up my pace, intending to make her pronebone. She let out all sorts of moans as gravity took its course. Not long after, I was kneeling on the bed, with her ass flared up, pulling her against me while I pushed against her. She looked back at me with a look of absolute pleasure as I kept running over her spot. Her squeezing at me as I throbbed inside her made me know it for both of us. I was close. 

Then, I was struck with the pleasure of it all. A supposedly ordinary flight, and now I'm inside one of the thicker women I've ever laid with, her moans and cries of pleasure, finding my name in then as she locked my cock in between her legs. Feeling light-headed for a second as she squeezed on me, moaning as it surged up my veins and hit me like a pitch. Taking it as a signal to go deeper, Juri clawed back on to the sheets as I fucked her, digging my knees and pushing all I had and gave it to her, the fastest I could without essentially doing her too roughly. With how loud she returned that pleasure, it was a blessing the walls were soundproofed. As I fucked her faster and dangerously tread that scale as I mind split itself whether to cum inside her now, or last as long as I could until we both came.

I chose the latter.

I slammed deep into Juri, earning a moan from her, tapped her to open her legs, and leaned in, moving her hair aside, noticing the thin sheen of sweat before kissing her nape as my hands moved down and squeezed her tits, going slow and deep as my lips moved to her earlobes.

"I think I'm close." 

Her head turned to face me, near breathless, our lips meeting each other before she said it.

"Cum in me"

I only replied with a peck on her lips as I pulled her back up. Now both of us only on our knees, and whosoever our hands found to hold, with Juri's dark brown eyes right onto mine, both of us knew full well that we were at the pearly gates. There were no more words to be said. She just whispered something in my ear before our tongues were deep in each other again. Beginning to thrust as I plunged deep every time inside Juri, herself returning the favor by pushing against me, essentially the perfect combination. The girth of my cock being sucked back in by her tight folds, that same tightness having never left from her lips, it was heavenly, and euphoric as she got slicker throughout. The feeling of her toned thickness on top of it all driving me on, going faster to a point where her cries of pleasure more or less began to echo throughout the room, prompting me to cover her with my hand as I laid my head on her shoulders, giving shy kisses to her shoulder. At the same time, I felt the weight beginning to take me over, that familiar tingle on me almost making me slip. I forced myself to go faster, deeper into her. Her moans now clawing down as her grip on my hands held on for dear life. She had wanted me to do her dirty with that gaze.

Juri began pulsating, me having fucked her hard enough to grant her one final orgasm. Feeling her body convulse as it shook against me, both of us letting out a groan as I began to crack against her. Her cum began to trickle down, with my cock parting, piercing between her flesh, it became too much to bear. I had flown too close to the sun.

The first, thick shots of cum left me with a groan. Juri let out a whimper as our orgasms matched in intensity. Both of us shook as we held each other tightly, barely being able to control ourselves as we hurtled over the edge. I found myself throbbing painfully in her walls as our juices mixed. Having her milk every last drop of me as I forced the last of my strength to keep fucking her throughout. She took me all in stride, her thick body bearing my brunt, slowing down eventually as I felt that sappy mess of lustful fluids pooled inside Juri. Both of us were barely able to keep standing on our knees as our lips found each other in a deep kiss. I held her as tight as I could as my hands moved down her body as my throbbing died out. Our grips became weak as humanity caught up to us.

"Fuck, I shook a lot, didn't I?" She said, dismissing herself. 

"That just means you made us cum a bit too hard," I replied.

"I guess I have something to look forward to then?" She asked, still thinking of earlier. 

Safe to say, I had just experienced euphoria. I didn't want to hold my peace forever for Juri.

"Be my guest." 

Juri ran a hand up my cheek, then kissed me there. Probably as a thank you for giving her such a pleasure, she was returning for when I kissed her immediately. I had too many things to be thankful for by then.

Juri then pushed herself off, quickly reaching for the tissue as my cum began to leak out. It looked deceptively more as we came simultaneously, almost at the expense of the tissue box as I looked and saw the creases, the dampness of the bed from two impatient lovers who earlier, just played on it. 

Juri just laughed at how much she had to get off from inside her, admitting then that she had never shaken that hard when she came. Me replying that I hadn't in a very long while, that's for sure. Both of us were boiling it down to just the perfect match as I reached over to the fridge and pulled out a drink for us both, a mere attempt to quench out human spirits amongst the many kisses that we shared as we talked amongst ourselves and dressed up. Juri spent a lot of time merely redoing her hair and hiding the creases of her shirt, spending another hour talking about the movie we had just missed because we had sex. At least, both of us didn't feel too old as we talked. I then had her lie down on my arm as I put it back on, skipping over the sex scene to avoid a repeat. 

It took me until the credits to notice myself near the oblivion of sleep that my muse had already slept. She looked just as perfect as she did earlier that day, not knowing what she would become in a beautiful chain of fortunate events. I could neither tell if it was a one night stand or the stars lining up by then. Knowing that she had to go back out, I nudged her awake. I saw a slight frown on her face as she rubbed her eyes, knowing what she had to do. 

"We wouldn't have to do this in LA. I could wake up beside you there instead," Juri said as she leaned in for one final kiss. 

I then opened the door for her, feeling a bit sorry that she had to leave for the crew quarters at the plane's back. I knew, however, we were looking forward to seeing each other after today, and every single day to come after. Both of us laughing as I saw her off, giving me one last goodnight kiss as the petite Japanese lady, named Takahashi Juri, walked off into the night with my heart in hand. 

[randomingoftherandomness]

idk if you are still taking wenzhou au req but if you're can you please write about when in episode 10 wkx is brothel being sad and getting, zzs barges in just when he has finished his monologue and the their night turns out completely different 👉👈

A/N: I’m gonna keep the rest of this under a cut but know that it is 🌶🍋 This is way longer than I expected it to be... I’m sorry if it reads a bit OOC?

--

His last companion of the evening slumps to the ground unconscious from the drink and yet Wen Kexing can do nothing but sigh at her and all her lovely friends.

He will contend himself with being alone in a crowd. As he always has been.

There is much on his mind and even more for him to consider moving forward, but before those dark, swirling thoughts in his mind can take form and root, the doors to the room swing open with a dangerous crash.

“Ah Xu?”

His Ah Xu steps into the dim light, eyes flashing with undisguised murder. Even with the distance between them, Wen Kexing can smell the wine on him. The way his eyes alight on each of the ladies on the ground spoke of nothing but undisguised malice. The sight of it sends shivers up his spine.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, going to a stand. 

For a beat, Ah Xu gapes and blinks at him, before closing his mouth and gesturing at the women, the drink, the food. “What’s all this then?”

Frowning, Wen Kexing steps forward, but still keeping a careful space between them. He weighs the shapes of the words he takes to utter. “We were having an argument. I thought...”

“You thought?” Ah Xu huffs. “Is a man like you capable of thinking?”

The comment cuts deep and Wen Kexing has enough liquor on his lips for it to light a fire in his veins. He turns, moving to leave when Ah Xu catches him by the arm. It takes him a beat but he manages to weave together the semblance of a smile when he says, “You should let me go, Ah Xu. I’m most afraid of clingy men, don’t you know?”

If he had hoped that would work, all it does is have Ah Xu wordlessly dragging him along out towards another room in the inn. It’s smaller, with candles unlit, floorboards coloured silver in the light of the moon, and though the moment he closes the doors behind them, he lets go of Wen Kexing, Ah Xu stays close.

“I... I can’t sleep.”

This soft admission sparks the flight of a thousand butterflies in his chest. Even as he tries to stifle the glow of happiness that radiates through the hollow nothingness in his being that has lasted from the moment they exchanged those angry words, he is helpless in the wake of his Ah Xu’s eyes on him.

Being at the centre of that man’s attention is all he had thought of, all he had wanted for the brief time they’d been together. And yet, now that he has it, all he wants to do is shy away.

What sort of secrets could this man glean from him? What sort of truths would he willingly offer up just to have the joy of being in his orbit?

Wen Kexing swallows down the breath sticking high in his throat. 

“Did you miss my playing that much?” He deflects with a gentle laugh, taking a fortifying lungful of air. “Have I spoiled you that much already?”

“Don’t play around, Wen Kexing!” Ah Xu hisses, reaching for his wrist and holding fast. “You... You infuriate me. Everything about you... All of you! You and your secrets, and all your hidden schemes! I never know what is the truth, I never know what is real or a mask with you--”

“I never lied to you, Ah Xu!”

“You say that but how can I trust you when chaos follows you like a shadow!” Ah Xu shakes his head, stepping up until they’re but separated by the shadows of their faces in the night light. “I can’t figure you out. And it scares me.”

Wen Kexing ducks his head, keeping his face from his sight. Gentle fingers cup his cheek, drawing their gazes back to each other. “Ah Xu...”

The pressure of a thumb to the corner of his mouth stops whatever else he has to say. Ah Xu’s eyes are bright in the dark; two guiding lights that he cannot help but follow. Even if they lead him right to his ruin. 

“You are a mystery I could spend the rest of my life unravelling.”

The first meeting of their lips is a breathless gasp, a painful bite of teeth to flesh; a messy slide of tongue to tongue, a play on dominance. His hands find hold firm on Ah Xu’s waist, sliding higher up his back when they pull away for a beat, before diving right back into each other. 

Stumbling steps take them to the bed, graceless touches reach for belt and cloth, rejoicing in every inch uncovered between them. Wen Kexing holds him close, surrendering to his Ah Xu with worshipful whispers of his name to his brow, his cheek, the spit slick seam of his lips.

“How do you want me?”

How? Wen Kexing softly chuckles, giddy at the unexpected amusement that bubbles up in him. Brushing his fingers through dark hair, he pulls him back down, drunk on wine and kisses. “I want you in every way you will share with me. I want you, just you.”

The prettiest shade of pink colours Ah Xu’s cheeks and Wen Kexing gives in to the need to trace the arc of his cheekbone. “I am yours,” He murmurs. “Yours to keep, to dispense with however you choose. Yours, alone.”

They fall into each other, moving to divest the rest of their clothes, only for Ah Xu to stop him right before he can take off his inner shirt. He pulls back, uncaring of this pause and ready to agree to anything he may ask of him. The night is warm and Wen Kexing drinks in every measured stretch muscle flexing under his touch as his Ah Xu moves between his thighs, hair pushed back in sweat tangled rivers. He engraves the sight of him into his mind; the proud bearing, curve of his cock rising from a thatch of wiry pubic hair. A bright grin flashes as he licks his lips and Wen Kexing shivers in anticipation. Clever fingers draw his half-hard cock into his hand, slowly stroking it. 

Wen Kexing watches, heart hammering a jackrabbiting beat as pleasure strikes up his senses, thighs falling further open for Ah Xu to hook his legs over his hips. There is a press of something warm and hard against his balls. This, like this, there is no mistaking what will be happening.

“Then, tonight, I’ll have you like this.”

He has to close his eyes when he feels the velveteen heat of Ah Xu’s mouth around him; thinks he must have died and gone to heaven at the almost expert way those fingers prepare him with oil that he hadn’t been aware was there. He has to hold back the moans that leave him in increasing desperation as he arches off the bed when Ah Xu begins to piston and scissor his fingers.

Irrationally, he feels suddenly jealous of all the lovers Ah Xu has had before. He feels a burn of jealousy so fierce it almost eclipses any sense of sanity he still clings on to. He wants to kill them all. Every single person who has ever known Ah Xu like this, every single person who has had this pleasure wrung out of them in this exquisite way, he wants them dead.

He feels his leg being stretched higher, a gentle brush of a kiss to his ankle. It anchors him to the present and Wen Kexing reaches out for Ah Xu, elated when he comes willingly. 

“Ready?”

Wen Kexing can only nod. Holding on tight as he feels himself being spread open, the blunt press of a cockhead, the bright flash of pain of that first push going in. It has been awhile and Ah Xu proves himself a considerate lover as he waits for him to adjust. “I won’t last long,” He admits in a rush, exhaling in stuttering hiccups against salt damp cheek. “I can’t--”

“Just let go. Just trust me. Let go,” Ah Xu hushes, bringing their brows together. “I’m here.”

He loses time to the rocking of their hips, the way that this feels too close to lovemaking. He keeps his hands in Ah Xu’s hair, breathing in the scent of his sweat, his skin on his tongue. 

“Ah Xu...” He sighs, mouth parting as he lets himself fall off the precipice of his desire. 

The thoughts running in his mind quiets further with every trembling roll of his hips chasing the pressure of Ah Xu’s thrusts as he rides the wave of bliss. Distantly, he is aware of the moment Ah Xu stops and reaches a hand down to pull himself out, stroking himself off between Wen Kexing’s thighs, slick painting his ass cheeks a pale glistening track.

A mark of who he belongs to.

Wen Kexing doesn’t fight it when Ah Xu crawls into the space next to him on the bed, flopping down inelegantly with a huff. “I’ll get up to wipe us off in a minute,” Ah Xu promises, throwing a leg over him. “I just need to rest.”

Wen Kexing smiles, brushing back his hair from his face. Those beautiful eyes are closed, breath already slowly evening out. Will Ah Xu regret this in the morning? He finds himself almost wishing he wouldn’t. Gently stroking those beautiful shoulders, he swallows down all the wants and what-ifs. “Take all the time you need.”

[mysewingadventures]

Historical Accuracy of Costumes in Period TV Shows - Anne With An E

I was very surprised at how well my historical accuracy post about The Aeronauts did, so I decided to write about another one! This time I’ll be talking about the fashion in Anne with an E, but I’ll be mainly focusing on the kids’ clothing because kids’ period fashion is something that’s very rarely talked about and we know very little about.

First of all, if you haven’t seen Anne with an E, please do, it’s an amazing adaptation of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables novels which I adored reading as a kid, but unfortunately I barely remember anything from the books so watching the show was kinda cool going into it without knowing what exactly was going to happen. But anyways, enough about the show, let’s get to the fashion. A little disclaimer: some of the fashion choices made by the department are very closely tied to the plot so I might be spoiling a little bit, but I won’t be talking about any big spoilers or plot points!

So, the story takes place from 1896 (season 1) to 1899 (season 2), so we’re in the late Victorian time period.

First up, we have this dress that Anne wears at the beginning of season 1. It’s obviously way too small, very simple and plain.

It was very typical for girls to wear aprons as an outer layer so they wouldn’t get their dresses dirty, we can see that all throughout the show with all characters. But here we have something that looks odd to someone who might not know the story and Anne’s upbringing. She’s an orphaned girl, this is the only dress she has and has had for years, hence why she grew out of it. It’s plain, simple, she’s a poor girl who goes from one family to another and has to work to earn her stay. In her surroundings, nobody would have given her a new dress, or even an older but fashionable one. I’m assuming she got it at some point just because she didn’t have anything to wear and "as long as it would do the job, it was good enough."

Now, let’s fast forward a little bit until Marilla decides to finally make Anne a new dress. She mentions having some fabric laying around, so she uses that to sew the new garment.

It’s still very plain and not fashionable for the time, but it’s a garment that fits her, which was Marilla’s top (and arguably only) priority at the time. Marilla is one of a kind, she’s the direct opposite of pretty much everyone else in Avonlea. I won’t get too deep into her characterization, but Anne’s fashion reflects Marilla’s mindset that I just have to mention how she’s a woman who lives in a classist society without really becoming a part of it. She’s old fashioned at first, sure, but her priorities are different from all the other families. While everyone else cares about how they present themselves to others and how they are viewed and their reputation, Marilla stays true to herself and doesn’t change for anyone. They’re not poor, meaning they could afford pretty clothing if they wanted to but to Marilla, this is clearly a waste of money and she values other things more in life. Okay, sorry about this little ramble about her but it’s important to know to understand why Anne doesn’t have the most fashionable dresses aside from the Cuthberts being “poorer” (despite still being middle class).

When Marilla announced she wanted to make a dress for Anne, Anne immediately requested puff sleeves, which is understandable considering they were very fashionable in 1896. Anne has never had puff sleeves before and all of her friends probably did, so it’s just natural for her to want her new dress to have them.

So, puff sleeves... Enter Matthew who has a soft spot for his daughter and doesn’t share the same strict world views as Marilla. He goes out to Charlottetown to get a dress custom made for Anne, which has... *drum roll* puff sleeves!

It’s this beautiful blue dress which Anne falls in love with and wears on every special occasion. With the lace and the frills it almost feels a little too much for a child, as girls’ dresses were usually similar to adults’ but less decorated and more simple. Anne does stand out a little when she wears it to school, but the dress was clearly not made for everyday wear, she was just too excited about it not to wear it.

Here’s a cast photo (I couldn’t find any other ones where you can properly see other girls’ dresses without the aprons) and you can see that they’re generally less embellished than adults’ clothing of that time and just a little frilly.

Unless I am missing something, this was the only puff sleeve dress that Anne owns up to the end of the show, and that is because puff sleeves suddenly aren’t as fashionable anymore in the following years. The dresses still have a wider sleeve at the top but nothing that comes close to a puff sleeve.

Let’s move on with my favorite Anne dress.

I love this dress so much because it’s quite simple but still has that elegance of the Victorian era. So maybe I’m biased but I’d say it’s absolutely accurate! I’ve definitely not been thinking about making a replica and wearing it just for the heck of it. It definitely seems child-appropriate and more like an everyday dress than the previous one.

I’d also love to talk about Diana’s dresses for a moment as she is the richest girl in town (I believe? It could be Josie I’m not sure) but her dresses are always on point and beautiful and just a prime example of rich girls’ dresses of that era. Here’s one of her and her sister Minnie May wearing the same white Sunday dress.

You had to be rich to give your kids white dresses with not even an apron. Sure, you wouldn’t wear an apron on a Sunday dress, but you had to be either rich enough so your kids were used to having the best manners and wouldn’t get dirty or you had to be able to afford to get a white dress dirty. The Barry’s are both of those things.

There are many more dresses that were shown in the show but if I mentioned all of them, I’d still be writing tomorrow! Maybe I’ll make a part 2 someday. However, I couldn’t finish this post without mentioning the iconic... Just see for yourself.

And... I have contemplated for a long time whether I should say this or not as all I’ve ever seen about this dress was pure adoration but from a personal point of view, I... don’t like it. I’m sorry. And that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not historically accurate, it’s just not my favorite personally. But I’ll get into the historical accuracy.

I had to rewatch almost the entire episode to see the dress in its full length, and after searching through a lot of fashion plates I have only found one that resembles it kind of.

But I’m still not 100% satisfied. The bodice almost feels a little outdated? If I had to guess I’d say this dress was more 1889 than 99. The skirt is historically accurate, though, as well as the sleeves. The blouse is laying a little too flat for 1899 and so is the bodice, it would have been more pigeon-breasted, just like the dresses you can see in this previous scene.

Granted, not all dresses in this scene have that silhouette and not all dresses in 1899 had that silhouette, but it just looks a little wrong with that particular style. A reason for that could be the fact that Marilla made it and maybe she just wasn’t completely up to date with the latest fashion trends and/or recycled an older dress, which is both something I could totally see her do. But then again, it could totally be something worn in 1899 and no one would bat an eyelash. Just because something isn’t common doesn’t mean it’s wrong! Actually, the more I look at it the more it looks right.

This brings me to another point I wanted to mention, which is the length of the kids’ skirts.

This is a photo I found in which they are approximately 14/15 years old.

According to a guideline I found from 1900 that I can’t include because of the 10 photos per post limitation but will link here, the hemline for that age should fall right above the uppper edge of the boot. The length we see them wear is appropriate for 4-8 year olds!

But that’s really the only thing I have to criticize. There’s not a lot of info we have on kids’ clothing so it’s hard to make a general statement but these are the things I noticed while watching the show and afterwards while doing research.

PS. The hats are all very cool and accurate! So many hats! After the lack of bonnets in some other movies seeing hats in a period film just make me happy 😊

[softbiker]

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: 18+ only - smut (fingering), some cursing

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: I can’t believe I wrote 3.6k words of what basically amounts to Netflix and fingering, but this is what Bucky Barnes does to people (you’re welcome Kris). Anyways, here is my first-ever smut - in which Bucky’s girl has a bad day at work and he does his best to make the night a good one. Bonus points if you can guess which show they’re watching ;) As always, feedback is appreciated! Since I’ve never written smut, please tell me if it’s bad lol. Thanks for reading!

A fuzzy vibration in his pocket alerts him to a text. 

Kill me. 

Unable to hold back a snort, he bites his lip and swipes at the screen. His thumbs flutter over the keyboard. 

No can do, babydoll. Not an assassin anymore, remember?

Merely a few seconds pass, little dots floating in the conversation bubble, before her reply buzzes back.

I’m sure you’ve retained some of your skills…or maybe I should ask Natasha?

Please, I taught Nat everything she knows. And I’d still take her out before I’d let her kill you - your butt is too cute. 

So is yours, Handsome ;)

The muscles in his cheeks hurt from the silly grin stretching up the corners of his mouth, but he can’t help himself with her, it’s just too easy. Too fun. 

Well, if you’re NOT going to put me out of my misery…then you at least owe me a good night tonight. 

Done and done. The whole team knows - and teases him frequently - that he spoils her, worships her, bends over backwards at her every request. It’s not his fault; she wrapped him around her finger the day they met, and it’s such a sweet place to be, he’s never bothered untangling himself. And she always gives as good as she gets, every time. 

What did you have in mind, sweetheart?

Pizza and Netflix. Preferably with your hand down my pants. 

Oh and there it is - that lovely little tingle down his spine, warmth in his belly, ever-present between them. His funny girl, always teasing. Teeth tug at his bottom lip as he deliberates over his response, thumbs poised over the screen.

It’s a date. 

He tacks on that little emoji with the winking kiss face and hits send. Glances at his watch - a little past 3 in the afternoon; she’ll be off work at 5, probably straight out the door if she’s having such a bad day, but if the traffic is bad or she gets stuck at her desk, it’ll probably be closer to 6 when she gets home. 

Slipping his phone in his back pocket, he looks around at the apartment, a quick survey of the last 5 days’ damage - a few dishes in the sink and on the stove, dirty socks peeled off in the hallway, a basket of clean clothes waiting to be folded. He nods to himself, prioritizes his task list, and tackles the kitchen first. After loading the dishwasher, he goes back to the bedroom, digging in the side pocket of his backpack for his headphones; he slips them in and turns on the next episode of that conspiracy theory podcast he’s become obsessed with (not that he’ll admit it, but she thinks it’s hysterical) and gets back to work, giving their home as deep a clean as he can in the couple of hours he has. On an afterthought, he lights a couple of scented candles - her favorites, the ones that smell like roasting marshmallows - throughout the place, letting the rooms fill with a warm scent. 

A few minutes past 5, he stands in the living room, hands on his hips, and surveys his work, feeling pretty pleased with himself. Their home looks and smells deliciously clean and inviting, a warm embrace for her to fall into when she walks in the door. He glances at his watch and decides he should go ahead and order the pizza, and as he swipes at the app on his phone, he double checks the champagne chilling in the fridge. Check and check. 

Perfect. He smiles to himself, the smirk turning a bit wicked as he walks down the hall to light candles in the bedroom. 

A perfect night for his perfect girl. 

 **********                                                  

Her feet drag as she climbs the stairs up to their apartment, cursing herself all the way for moving into a building with no elevator. As if she weren’t tired enough from the absolutely hellish day she just had - even thinking about work has her massaging her temples with a groan. And she absolutely, positively, has to get new shoes for work, her feet hurt so fucking bad it’s insane-

Nope. Nope! Completely done, she stops on the second flight of stairs with a huff, removing her heels one at a time and shoving them into her work bag. Files and various loose papers wrinkle in the process, but she doesn’t care at all; so what if the little blue fleck of gum on the bottom of her pumps gets stuck on the official copy of a contract? At this point, she’s practically daring someone to say something about it. Biting someone else’s head off for a change would be just delightful. 

She continues up that flight of stairs and the next, barefoot, her bag heavy and awkward on her right shoulder with the addition of her shoes, toes pressing into the worn and dated green carpet covering the steps. In her head, she’s counting them, counting down - 10 steps to Bucky, 9 steps, 8 steps, 7, 6…

When she unlocks the door and pushes it open, he’s waiting there, sweet smile curling up his soft lips. Of course, he must have heard her coming up the stairs - and she sags in relief, practically falling into his arms without even closing the door. He chuckles, tugging her closer while shuffling their positions in the hallway so that he - ever responsible and paranoid - can close and deadbolt their door. 

“Hi,” she mumbles into his chest. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, lips against her temple. “Rough day?” 

She groans, shaking her head with her face still pressed against him. 

“You’ve got no idea, Buck, it was just the worst-”

“Shh, shh,” he hushes her, rubbing her back with firm strokes. “You don’t have to talk about it. You can just relax, honey. I’m here.”

A heavy sigh puffs against his shirt, the heat of her breath felt through the fabric, and her shoulders drop a little further, the tension slowly melting as he softly sways her from side to side. They stand like that for a while, just breathing each other in, letting go of the day, coming home to each other. Though she’s never said it aloud, she lives for moments like this, when there’s nothing that matters outside the circle of his arms. Nothing else at all. 

The insistent growl of her stomach interrupts them - loud and gurgling, and he chuckles in spite of himself. He pulls back a bit from their embrace, looking down with a fond smirk tilting up his mouth. 

“Hungry?”

“Starving, Buck,” she pouts, a little dramatic, a playful whine coloring her tone. “Did you make dinner?” 

“Even better.” A light press of his lips to the tip of her nose, his voice continuing in a whisper. “I ordered out.”

A soft gasp. 

“Gusano’s?” Her eyes are sparkling and he wonders if she gets as excited for him as she does for pizza. 

“Mhm. Got all the toppings you like, too.” 

Touched, and sensitive from such a long day, her smile is so big it makes her tired eyes tear up just a bit. Sometimes, it just hits her - how lucky she is, how one-in-a-million her sweet super-soldier boyfriend manages to be every single day. It swells her heart full to bursting every time.

He doesn’t say anything else, just kisses her forehead and turns, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders and steering her to the bedroom. 

“C’mon, babydoll - you go change,” he urges gently, stroking her arm. “Get in your comfy clothes, take your makeup off, all that jazz - I’ll grab the pizza and then we’ll see what we wanna watch, yeah?”

Her answering sigh is dreamy as she drops her head back to his shoulder. 

“Where have you been all my life, Bucky Barnes?” 

“Mm. Mostly in cryogenic storage,” he whispers, eyebrows wiggling as he leans in for a kiss. With a roll of her eyes she dodges his lips, letting them land on the side of her head as she smacks his chest and walks off to the bedroom. Chuckling, he lands a playful swat on her ass before skipping to the kitchen. 

What a man, she thinks, shaking her head as she digs through her dresser for a pair of soft college sweatpants. One-in-a-million.

  **********                                                   

Pizza box on the edge of the bed, bottle of champagne on the left nightstand. She’s settled between his legs, feeling full and pleasantly soft from the bubbly drink in her hand. 

“We’re gonna keep watching this, right?” she hums as the credits roll on the first episode, button in the bottom corner counting down until the next one plays. 

“Sure - as long as you don’t spend the whole night ogling that guy’s ass,” he huffs, pinching her hip. 

“Hey! It’s not my fault he’s got a great ass - but I never said it was better than yours,” she offers, sweet and apologetic, reaching up to pat his cheek. Even with her head only half turned, she can see the pouty scowl on his face, her hardened assassin looking more like a frustrated two-year-old. Adorable. What a man. 

“Whatever,” he grumbles, shifting a little on the bed and tightening his arms around her, as though that might keep his girl in his lap rather than jumping through the screen and into the arms of the wig-wearing hunk whose strapping biceps currently have her attention. 

The second episode plays, she relaxes a little further, finishing her second glass of bubbly. When he murmurs in her ear, she lets him take the glass and set it on the nightstand, out of the way. He shifts forward and grabs the pizza box, too, moving it to the other nightstand - both of them have eaten their fill and all that’s left in the box is a scrap of crust, nibbled all the way up till there’s nothing left but seasoned bread. 

There’s a little shifting, a little wiggling, as he settles them both back against the headboard. In true “Princess and the Pea” fashion, Bucky’s got no less than three pillows fluffed behind his back, cushioning him against the hard wooden headboard. When he’s finished shuffling around, he strokes her sides for a moment, pulling her back flush against him and wraps his arms around her waist, sighing in contentment. 

“Comfortable?” she giggles. His only reply is a low hum and a squeeze of his arms. 

They go back to watching episode two, trying to follow the separate timelines and magical rules that have yet to be explained in the story world. She’s got her eyebrows drawn together, puzzling out where the hunchbacked mage might fit in to all of this; while the women on screen test their magic powers, she feels warm lips travel to her neck. 

At first, she tries to ignore him, intent on watching the show; but the warm, wet kisses trailing up and down the side of her neck have her tilting her head, silently asking for more…

“Watch your show, baby,” he whispers, husky voice sending a delicate shiver down her spine. The tip of his tongue traces over the shell of her ear. “Don’t want you to miss your man.” 

She intends to make a derisive snort, but it comes out as more of a hiccuped gasp when one of his hands slips just under the hem of her t-shirt, fingers spider-walking up the skin of her stomach. Her mouth is dry when she tries to swallow and bring her hazy eyes back to the TV. 

It works for a few moments, maybe minutes, as he softly strokes the warm skin of her belly, his other hand tracing the waistband of her sweats. His mouth never leaves her neck and shoulders, switching from one side to the other, gently letting his teeth scrape over her sweet spot and her earlobe. All tender, unhurried caresses, and she sinks further into him, into the warmth of them both in their room, their world. 

She chokes on her gasp when his hand slides up to cup her breast. 

“You still watching, honey?” he hums, a smile pressed against her jaw. 

“Uh-huh,” she manages when his finger circles her nipple. 

“Good.” He nuzzles her cheek a little bit, stubble scratching along her smooth skin as his hand continues to massage her breast - his fingers still soft, barely squeezing, just enough to tease. 

His other hand finally wiggles past her waistband - but stops at the seam of her underwear, just a few inches in. She’s watching, she is, she is; her eyes are on the screen, on the very handsome monster hunter with a jaw that could cut glass, her hand gripping Bucky’s thigh. She’s absolutely paying attention to the show, and not at all frustrated with the light strokes of his fingers across her hips and mound, still outside of her panties. Fingers stretch a little further, so he’s massaging her inner thigh in time with the squeezes to her breast. It’s getting a little hot in here - maybe she shouldn’t have worn such thick sweats and fuzzy socks…

This time, she can’t help herself as she digs her nails in his thigh, his index finger lightly tracing her folds over her underwear. It almost tickles. She almost whines. Bites her lip instead to hold it back, her breath hitching in her chest. 

“Bucky,” she huffs. 

“Hm?” He licks her neck. 

“Are you going to do something?” It comes out weaker than she meant it to, more desperate than demanding. 

“I thought you wanted to watch your show?” he suggests, feigning innocence. “Don’t you wanna watch Netflix with my hand down your pants? You can have both, honey.” 

Her thighs twitch when his fingers press a little firmer, just an ounce more pressure - still barely anything, still not enough. She does whine this time, trying to wiggle her hips closer to his hand. 

“Go on, admire his ass some more, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “I know you think it’s cute.” 

The hand in her shirt switches to the other breast and tweaks her nipple, just on the pleasant side of painful. She licks her lips, blinking to regain focus on the screen, feeling way too hot. Bucky seems unbothered, though, continuing his ministrations and ignoring the TV altogether. 

Her teeth sink into her lower lip when his hand slides around to grab a handful of her ass, gripping tight then playfully popping the seam of her panties with his finger. 

“You’ve got a pretty cute ass, too,” he teases, his hand gliding back to its place between her thighs. 

She huffs again, unable to stop herself from arching into the hand that’s attentively playing with her breasts. Alright then. Two can play at this game - she releases her death grip from one of his thighs and slides her hand back, just behind her, letting her nails drag over the prominent bulge in his sweats. 

He hisses through his teeth, releasing her breast to grab her wrist. His other hand slips out of her pants to snatch her hand that remains clasped to his thigh

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart,” he nips at her shoulder. With a firm grip, he moves her hands up behind his neck, letting her fingers tangle in the sweaty strands at his nape. “You keep those right here and enjoy your show, alright? I ain’t done with you yet.”

Satisfied that she would stay put, he lets his hands glide back down - over the length of her arms and down her sides, before gripping the hem of her shirt and hiking it up above her breasts, both hands immediately giving them a firm squeeze. Lower lip trapped between her teeth, she barely holds back the low moan in her throat and fights to refocus her eyes on the screen again, a herculean task with his fingers plucking at her nipples like that. 

The heat between her legs continues to build, despite both his hands occupied with her chest, and she can’t help but lift her hips a little, a blind, desperate search for friction, attention, anything. A particularly hard tweak of her nipples had her whining loud, a jolt of electricity going straight between her thighs. She tries to rub her thighs together to get some relief, but Bucky’s too quick - he hooks his own feet on the inside of her ankles and keeps both their legs spread open wide. 

She moans his name, heady and desperate, arching into his hands. 

“S’alright, I gotcha,” he hushes her, his lips still fastened to her neck. Always wants to take care of his girl. He’ll always give her what she wants…eventually.

Achingly slow, he drags a hand down from her breasts, tracing over her stomach and into her sweats again. He snaps the waistband of her underwear again - once, twice, what an asshole - before sliding down further to rub her core through her panties. Her breath hitches at the feel, the friction, her thigh muscles tightening as he uses his knuckles to firmly stroke her up and down. Wetness pools in her underwear, more and more as he rubs little circles around her clit with his thumb. 

“Can feel you gettin’ so wet, honey,” he rasps, breath hot on her ear. “This all for me? Huh?”

All she can give is a nod and an “uh huh” as his fingers press her clit and pinch her nipple at the same time. A tiny whine escapes her lips, sweat breaking out along her back where they’re pressed together, his erection impossible to ignore as she wiggles against him. 

Panties soaked now, ruined, when he finally, finally slips inside, cupping her pussy with his warm hand. With his thumb and pinky, he parts her swollen folds and traces his index and middle fingers up her slit.

“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked, sweetheart,” he moans, his fingers running through her folds, circling her entrance before bringing the wetness back up to rub her clit. His fingers spread her a little further, tugging back the hood, and he draws firm circles around her bud, just the way he knows she likes. 

“Oh, oh fuck, Bucky-” she pants and whines, hips rolling into his hand, his other fingers still working over her breasts. Her head feels light, almost dizzy, and a tight feeling grips her low in her belly, her toes starting to curl and twitch. Fingers yank hard at his silky soft hair, the strands wrapped in her fists. “Bucky, please.”

“Don’t gotta beg me, honey - don’t gotta beg for anything,” he coos against her sweaty cheek. With his hand now soaked, he slips two fingers inside, curling them against her upper wall into that spot that makes her-

“Oh my god, oh god, right there-”

“I know, baby, I know.”

His hands working her over like an instrument, there’s no more pretense of even glancing at the TV screen - her eyes flutter as he rhythmically strokes her higher, gushing wet sounds as he drives his fingers in and out, dragging the heel of his palm against her clit. All the while, his other hand plucks and circles her nipples, palms her breasts, his tongue and teeth attached to the sensitive little place on her neck. Her mouth hangs open, gasps and moans that sound vaguely like his name, fingernails raking down his scalp and the back of his neck.

“Come on, honey, come for me - come for me.” He pulls his fingers from her and goes back to circling her clit at a frenetic pace.

It’s enough - the coil in her belly snaps and she arches back with a cry, her legs shaking and hips rocking up against his fingers, head falling back against his shoulder. His fingers don’t stop as he works her through it, holding on to her high, his lips pressed against her temple as he murmurs sweet words into her skin. 

“Good girl, oh good girl - there’s my sweet girl, huh?” He presses little kisses down her temple to her cheekbone, following the path of the sweet-tasting sweat beading on her forehead. 

He lets his fingers slow against her, and finally removes them when she starts to twitch away from him, sensitive and sated. Letting his hand fall from her breasts to her stomach, he rubs softly over her skin, feeling her ribs expand under his palm as she catches her breath. His other fingers go straight to his mouth, sucking obscenely, not letting a drop of her wetness go to waste. She peels an eye open at his appreciative groan, the corner of her mouth tilting up in a tired smile. 

“You perv,” she laughs, her voice low, content. She pats his cheek with one hand at the indignant look on his face, but he merely shrugs and dips his finger back down for a second helping, licking off his fingers with a loud smack. 

“Can’t help it. You’re too damn sweet,” he grins, smug and lusty, loving the way she’s still a bit breathless and soft in his arms. 

She rolls her eyes and catches a glimpse of the TV screen, where the credits are rolling on their show. 

“Whoops…I think I barely caught any of that,” she giggles, slapping his leg. “Which would be your fault, by the way.” 

“Eh, we can just rewatch it if you want to-”

“Later,” she interrupts, sitting forward and turning around on the bed. Her limbs still feel shaky from her orgasm, but she plants her palms on his chest and straddles his lap, landing firmly on his still straining erection. Bucky moans low and grips her hips, his eyes blown dark with need. She leans in close, her lips brushing lightly over his.

“I think it’s your turn,” she whispers, tongue tracing his lower lip. He dives in with a growl, devouring her mouth.

Netflix entirely forgotten. 

[midnghtcities]

cherry flavoured / chapter 3

Christmas. A time of celebration, joy, and cookie-induced food comas. Hazel Shaw needs this holiday season to be the best one yet, but a neighbour by the name of Harry Styles could completely destroy that ideal.

An enemies-to-lovers Christmas mini-fic about old mistakes, new prospects, and those cherry flavoured conversations you wish could be forgotten. 

Written for the 1DFF discord server fic challenge.

read on wattpad / story page

(A/N: yes i know christmas was almost a month ago but i am terrible at keeping schedules!! anywho, just a short epilogue after this part!)

! TW: brief description of a seizure !

Friday, 25 December

Alcohol the night before Christmas is never a good idea if you want to have a good night sleep. Pair that with a boy who you once upon a time thought you could be in love with admitting to something relatively shocking, then you’re definitely not in for a good night sleep.

My alarm chirped happily at seven and I unhappily dragged myself out of my cocoon of comfort. I don’t think I had roused myself this early on Christmas morning since I was 10 years old, but I wanted today to be perfect. Normally, mum would take on the duties of preparing Christmas Day but I had insisted on her taking as much rest as she needed. It was my turn to take charge. I promptly forced all lingering thoughts about last night to the back of my mind and began to get on with the day. 

Once downstairs I busied myself with arranging our presents under the tree, switching on the Christmas lights, and setting the table for our traditional Christmas breakfast. I grabbed the supplies I had stashed in the cupboard earlier and got to work on our breakfast gingerbread house. 

I knew to many it would seem pretty silly that we indulge on something so sweet for breakfast, but it was our tradition. As a kid, I was always half excited to see the presents under the tree and half excited to see what gingerbread monstrosity my mum had created. Some notable mentions include the 30cm lighthouse she had somehow erected in 2005 and her infamous attempt at the Buckingham Palace in 2011. This year, we would have to do with a simple house though. Time constraints meant I had to use a simple store-bought kit.

It was just past half nine when I put the finishing touches on the gingerbread house and I finally called up to mum, telling her she was permitted to come downstairs to begin our festivities.

“Happy Christmas, mum!”

“Happy Christmas, Hazel.”

I immediately wrapped mum up in a hug once she had fully descended the stairs. Both of us held on a little longer than we normally would.

“This looks fantastic!” Mum beamed.

It was nothing compared to what mum used to do back in the day but I appreciated the sentiment. I pulled mum over to the sofa and we began exchanging gifts, both of us laughing at how we seemingly got all the gifts so perfect for once. After the wrapping paper had been stashed away, I proudly brought out my gingerbread creation. The roof was barely hanging on and I had to make extra icing in order to hold the walls up, but all in all it was a decent effort. Mum had the honours of smashing the whole thing apart and we both dug in, a full pot of tea accompanying our sweet escapade.

It was almost midday. We had packed the remains of the gingerbread house away before we made ourselves sick and we had both donned our garish Christmas jumpers. I had set mum up with some corny Christmas movie that was on Netflix whilst I busied myself with preparing our lunch. A typical roast dinner, but for lunch obviously.

“Are you feeling hungry yet? I think the food is pretty much ready,” I peered into the oven, the golden skin of the chicken confirming my suspicions. I gave the mashed potatoes on the stove another stir, making sure it wasn’t getting gluggy at the bottom.

“Mum?” I called over my shoulder again.

I turned around, finding her lack of response strange.

She was standing rigidly near the dining table, her right hand clasped over her mouth. Her gaze was fixed on the wall.

“Mum…” I felt my heart leap into my throat. I had seen this before. I dropped the wooden spoon I was holding and immediately walked over to her.

In the six steps it took for me to get to her, it all happened. The glass I didn’t even realise she was holding fell from her left hand and shattered. She crumpled and fell, knees collapsing beneath her. That guttural groan I had hoped I would never have to hear again. Eyes rolling. Jaw locked. Shaking. Jerking. She was having a seizure.

I dropped to my knees beside her, rolling her onto her side as best as I could. I checked her airway like the paramedic had shown me last time. It was clear thankfully. With surprisingly steady hands, I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and dialled 999.

It didn’t even feel like it was me speaking. A voice so even and calm couldn’t possibly be coming out of my mouth right now. I relayed the personal details with ease, told the lady on the other end of mum’s condition without a stutter over the big medical words. Who am I?

“Paramedics are on their way to you now. You’re doing a great job, love.”

I blinked. Mum had stopped shaking, but her eyes were still closed.

“They should be right outside love,” the call takers voice interjected. 

I thanked her and hung up, mystified at how they had arrived in seconds. When I looked down at my phone screen I realised that the phone call had been going for more than five minutes. I blinked again. Blue flashing lights slicing through the living room blinds. A firm knock at the door.

I was walking underwater. My legs were not moving fast enough. I held my arms out as though I was about to lose balance. I made it to the door, let the paramedics in. 

Now I was sitting on the sofa. Look at me. Take a breath. Tell me what happened. How long was she out? You did a great job. She’s going to be okay. 

“Hazel?!”

I was pulled out of the water. My senses ignited, the scene before me truly unfolding. Two paramedics, one assessing mum and one crouched before me. I could hear a steady beeping, mum’s heart on the monitor I’m assuming. And Harry. He was standing in the doorway, eyes wide with horror. Anne and Gemma were behind him, with similar looks of panic. They were all wearing those crappy paper Christmas hats.

And it was as if that’s what tipped the scale. It was Christmas day. My mum just had a seizure. I burst into tears.

I launched myself off the sofa and towards Harry. He had already begun moving towards me so he caught me immediately. I sobbed horribly into his jumper, my chest heaving and throat almost instantly becoming raw as I let it out. I cried for Christmas Day being ruined. I cried for the pain my mum has had to endure. I cried for the fact that mum would most likely not be here this time next year. I cried for my mum being diagnosed with glioblastoma at the age of 52.

“You’re okay…” Harry continually whispered into the top of my head, his hand rubbing circles on my back. I clinged to him like he was the only thing to keep me afloat right now.

I wasn’t sure how long we had been embracing, but I eventually calmed down. I carefully pulled my head back from his chest, bringing my arms away from his waist to rub my eyes clear. He kept his arms locked around me though, like he wasn’t sure if I was ready to be let go. I was glad he kept them there.

“You’re bleeding,” he said worriedly.

“Oh…” I looked at my hands and realised he was right. I must’ve leant on the glass when I was beside mum. As soon as I realised the cuts were there, I felt the throb of pain. “I think… I might’ve gotten blood on your jumper…”

“Wha--” Harry spluttered, like he was lost for words. “I-- I do not give a fuck about that! Come here.” He pulled me back over to the sofa.

I took the moment to glance around the room. Anne was talking to the paramedic. Gemma was distributing glasses of water. And then there was Mum, sitting up on one of the dining table chairs. She looked so tired, but despite that, when I met her gaze she sent me a smile. It was the same look she gives me after every medical episode she’s had in the last year. It was her way of saying all was fine, no need to worry. What she didn’t realise was that all I had been for the past year was a pit of worry.

“Is it alright if you check to make sure there’s no glass in the cuts?” Harry’s gruff voice pulled me back in the moment.

“Of course,” the paramedic bobbed down in front of me and asked to see my hands.

Harry immediately took up the space beside me, his arm snaking around my waist once more. I leant into him almost automatically. I didn’t care that it felt so right to be like this with him. I didn’t care that he pressed his lips to the top of my head when the disinfectant the paramedic applied caused me to wince. I especially didn’t care that he kept me entwined with him even after the paramedic had finished tending to the cuts.

“We’re gonna take her upstairs,” the other paramedic addressed me a few minutes later. “Her vitals are good and we’ve given some pain relief for the headache she's sporting. Seeing as this isn’t her first seizure we don’t need to bring her in. But if anything changes in her condition, ring and we’ll come straight back.”

I nodded mutely and despite my protesting heart, I pulled myself up and out of Harry’s arms.

“It’s alright Hazel,” Anne jumped in quickly, “you stay there and I’ll show them where your mum’s room is.”

“No, it’s okay,” I finally found my voice. “You’ve done so much already, I don’t need to spoil your Christmas anymore.”

“Hazel… Don’t say that…”

“Please, go back to your Christmas lunch. I promise we’re okay now.”

I could tell Anne wanted to fight me on this but Gemma grabbed her mum’s hand and began leading her towards the door.

“Thank you…” I said quietly as they passed. Anne pulled me into a hug, whispering that I could call if I needed anything.

Harry stood from the sofa, his expression somewhat unreadable. As suddenly as I had felt at ease with him, it all slipped away and I felt the frostiness of our current relationship seep back in. I had broken down in front of and clutched onto the man that I had promised myself five years early that I would have nothing to do with anymore. How do you move past that?

“I… Uh-- Thank you, as well,” I said lamely.

It looked like he was about to say something in response, but instead he swallowed thickly. Clearly, the moments we had shared earlier have officially passed.

I motioned to the paramedics to assist bringing mum upstairs. I knew the Styles’ would be able to show themselves out. I tried not to wince each time mum took a laborious breath as she came up the stairs. However, I felt a strange lightness when they finally settled her in the bed.

I thanked the paramedics profusely, which they accepted graciously. They promised to close the front door behind them, urging me to stay with mum for a bit to make sure she’s comfortable.

“I’m so sorry Hazel,” mum spoke as soon as they left.

I went and sat beside her. “Please don’t apologise, you can’t control these things.”

“Yes, but I know how much effort you had put into today. You deserve to have a special day.” A soft but sad smile graced her features. I knew she was skirting around the big issue that we always tried to avoid. The impending end that her diagnosis was going to bring. 

“We have lots of time for a special day,” I said quietly, bringing her hands into my own. “And even if we don’t… I am so thankful for the countless ones we’ve already had. Never feel guilty that you’re taking something away from me.”

Mum’s eyes turned glassy with emotion. She tugged on my hands, signalling that she needed a hug. 

“Get some rest,” I spoke after pulling away a few seconds later. “Maybe we can still have some Christmas dinner if I can salvage the chicken.”

She laughed but agreed. I wanted to stay and watch her fall asleep - to be sure - but she assured me that she felt fine and told me to go. I begrudgingly agreed.

 Carefully, I closed her bedroom door and walked gingerly back downstairs. I knew I needed to clean up the mess. And try and rustle up something edible for us.

“Is she alright?”

“Jesus Christ!” My heart almost leapt out of my chest at the unexpected sounding of a voice. Harry was standing in my kitchen, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed in what looked like concern. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you still doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay… And your mum. Is she?”

I was shocked that Harry hadn’t left. After what had happened earlier I was sure he would’ve wanted to put as much distance between us as possible. “Uh… yeah. She seems to be,” I managed to get out, “she’s just resting at the moment.”

“Good, good,” he said softly. I kept forgetting what it was like to have him talk to me like this, like we were before.

“You cleaned up,” I noticed that the shards of glass had been surreptitiously swept away and the floor wiped clean of any evidence of what had happened. I suddenly felt my throat tighten and that telltale pinch behind my eyes. Harry had literally held me together a mere hour earlier and yet this small act of kindness was sending me over the edge again. I didn’t want Harry to see me like this once more. I quickly walked over to the cupboard to grab a glass and filled it with water from the sink.

“Least I could do,” he replied, seemingly not noticing my change in demeanor. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t save your chicken. Mum made you both a plate though from our leftovers, I put them in the fridge. I can heat it up for you if you’re hungry now…”

He was being so nice. It felt so jarring. One day he was all eye rolls and words filled with venom, and the next he was offering to get me food. With the absence of my earlier heightened emotions, his sudden concern felt like he was trying to portray some act.

“I’m alright for now,” I finally spoke after a few beats of silence. I turned from the sink to face him again. His eyes held that look of pity - poor girl with a sick mum. I hated it.

“Okay then… Do you wanna just watch a movie then? Get your mind off things?”

It was like a switch had flipped in my mind. I had enough of fake niceties and acts of kindness formed out of pity. I slammed my glass down onto the counter, water sloshing out the side. “God, why are you here?” I said sourly.

“What? I told you, to make--”

“To make sure I’m okay, yeah, I heard that. But why do you even care?”

I watched Harry’s gaze harden. “You… Seriously? What is your problem? I’m trying to do the right thing.”

I clenched my hands into fists, my nails pressing deep into the palms of my hands. I was desperately trying to prevent myself from exploding at him. “Why? Cause you feel sorry for me?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then why do the right thing now? After all these years?”

Harry shook his head in disbelief and began to pace across the floor. He ran his hands through his hair. “You know, a thank you would be nice,” he spat after a few moments.

“A thank you? A thank you?” I could feel my face heating up, not in embarrassment but in anger. It was getting harder and harder to keep it together. “You should be thanking me!”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“For helping you to get back with your girlfriend.”

Harry stopped in his tracks and faced me, eyes wide in bewilderment. “Hazel, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” His frustration was palpable as he threw his hands up in the air. “I thought this was about your mum!? Or me apparently helping you too much today.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. I forced myself to take three deep breaths. I reopened my eyes to see Harry staring at me expectantly. 

“It’s about the fact that we have barely spoken to each other for the past five years and now you expect us to sit on the sofa and watch some bloody movie?” I said in a surprisingly even tone.

“It’s not my fault we haven’t spoken in the last five years,” he replied icily.

“Excuse me…”

“I’m sure you remember the last summer before uni?” Harry crossed his arms across his chest, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

“How could I forget,” I said darkly. I could feel that my hands were shaking ever so slightly.

“So you remember that--” he swallowed thickly, “--that last night.”

I nodded mutely. This was the first time we had ever spoken of that night.

“So then you definitely must remember how you moved across the country the next day without saying goodbye to me and have ignored me since.”

My mouth fell open. That is not what happened. My body flushed as I tried to process what Harry was telling me. Memories of that night flooded back, it had been so long since I had allowed myself to think of them. 

I remember the heat - we had been suffering through a heat wave all week. Someone from our form was having a final hurrah before we all went off to uni. Harry and I went together - as we always did - and we drank. A lot. Those god damn cherry vodka sours. As we stumbled home, he kissed me. I’ll never forget the look that clouded his eyes when he pulled away. And next thing I knew we were in his bed, all fervent mouths and quiet moans.

“You slept with me,” I spoke as I finally pulled out of my reverie, “and the very next day run right back into the arms of Lucy, who you told me you had ended things with…”

I watched as Harry’s eyebrows knitted together in what looked like confusion.

“All I was to you was a quick fuck to help sort out your feelings,” I said quietly. It had taken me a long time to accept the truth of Harry’s actions but admitting it outloud was almost harder. A tear suddenly slipped down my face. I hadn’t even felt myself well up.

“So yes,” I continued on when I realised Harry was just going to keep staring at me with a look of dumbfoundedness, “I did leave for London without saying goodbye. But I think I had a pretty good reason to.”

Harry continued to stare at me, his eyes wide. I waited a further few seconds, expectant of a response, but nothing came.

“I think you should leave,” I finally spoke.

He didn’t move.

“Fine then,” I stormed past him not even taking care when my shoulder careened into his own. Just as I was about to climb the stairs, I felt his hand around my wrist. He pulled me to a stop.

“I wasn’t talking to Lucy to get back with her. I was telling her… that she was right.” His voice was raspier than earlier.

I begrudgingly turned to face him, “Right about what?”

“She was the one who actually ended things…”

“What? You told me you did.”

“I know, I didn’t want you to know the real reason why she broke up with me.”

I raised an eyebrow, “And what was the real reason?”

Harry drew in a shuddering breath, “She thought… Well she insisted on the fact that I was actually in love with you.”

It felt like someone had sucked all the air out of lungs. My vision swam for a moment. I placed my left hand on the wall as though my legs were going to give way. “And… You went to tell her that she was right…”

“I thought maybe you felt the same, especially after… But with you leaving so suddenly, it made it pretty clear that I had come to the wrong conclusion.” Harry’s gaze shifted away from my own, he clearly was feeling uncomfortable.

His admission made me view the last five years in a new light. His actions did match those of a scorned lover. In fact, it matched my own.

“You weren’t wrong,” I breathed out. I reached forward, my hand landing on his chest. Even through his jumper I could feel his heart beating erratically. 

He met my gaze once more and all I could see was that look - the one he held all those years ago. 

Without another second of hesitation, our lips crashed together. My hands immediately found their way into Harry’s hair, fingers curling around the tendrils as though to keep us locked in this place for eternity. I felt Harry’s own hands dig into my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. Heart to heart as we should be - something I never thought would happen again. Something that I hadn’t realised I had been longing for all this time.

Against my better judgment, I pulled away. Harry gave a small noise of protest which I smiled at. “Wait…” I said whilst trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so easily when I saw you--”

“Don’t you dare apologise. We were both arses. I should’ve reached out, found out what was wrong.”

I captured his lips with my own again. “Agree to both be sorry then?” I spoke after pulling away.

He laughed softly, “Alright then.”

I rested my head against his chest, glad to have Harry’s arms around me. “I can’t believe we wasted five years…”

“Might’ve been for the better, you would not have enjoyed my long-haired phase in my second last year of uni.”

I looked up at him, both of our eyes crinkled with laughter. “And I suppose you wouldn’t have enjoyed me in my last year where I was determined to hit up every bar in London.”

I watched his expression drop ever so slightly. “Right, London.” He loosened his grip on me, pulling away. “I suppose you’re heading back there tomorrow?”

The reality of real life crashed down like a bucket of water had been tipped over me. How could I forget that Harry and I have crafted full lives in completely different cities.

“It’ll be hard to say goodbye to you knowing how we both feel now,” he said quietly.

I chewed my lip, “You know… I could extend my leave. Maybe until after New Years. I’m sure I could get some special considerations.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

“We’re not fucking this up a second time.”

He grinned and wrapped me in his embrace once more, his lips making quick work to find my own.

“You know,” I pulled away.

His groan cut me off, “Stop bloody doing that.”

I shushed him with a laugh, “I was just going to say that in case my leave doesn’t get approved that we should make the most of the time we have left.” I looked fixedly over to the sofa.

“Fuck, I love the way you think.”

Without a second thought we tumbled over to the sofa, our legs becoming entangled, clothes discarded, and hands roaming - eager to find what had changed in the last five years. And as Harry peppered kisses down my torso and brought forth feelings so intense I hadn’t thought possible - I knew I wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Even if that meant quitting my job or moving halfway across a country. 

Harry and I. This was it.

[beauty-and-passion]

What am I currently doing?

What am I even doing? Am I dead? Have I left the fandom?

The answers are writing, no and no.

The long answers are:

What am I doing?

First I collected all answers from the survey for the fanwriting of Sanders Sides Season 3 (aka Fanders Sides Season 3). I checked them all and planned what to do. I already wrote a post with all the details, so I won’t spoil too much here: everything will be explained in due time.

I also finished the analyses of the remaining episodes.

And in the last weeks, I’ve started writing Fanders Sides Season 3. Today I finished the first 9 episodes which ideally close my first “arc” of the season finale. One third (more or less) is done.

However, these things should still be reviewed and proofread and I can do it only after I finish writing the whole FSS3. So for now it’s just a good draft.

Am I dead?

Eurovision 2023 almost killed me and the aftermath left me crushed. It has been a couple of terrible weeks and I managed to get out of them, only after a while - and after the true winner got back on his feet.

In the meantime, my job contract ended and the company did not renew it. Why? Oh, no idea. They need a person and yet, they decided to fire one they spent 6 months training for that role. The bullshit they told me was “there is no money”, which is ridiculous coming from a growing gas and oil company.

The truth is probably that the heads of administration are complete idiots and have no idea about the situation. The place I worked for is a branch of the company and the administration center for the whole Italian division of said company.

When I started working there, the administration office was down to three people (they had retired) and they really, REALLY needed help. I did my best and, thanks to my and another person’s help, the workload was reduced.

So, since now things are somehow normal, they told me that hey, the problem is solved. Which proves they have no idea how an administration works, because reducing the workload now doesn’t mean the workload is reduced forever.

And even though they do not know that, my colleagues do. And they’re all pissed. They protested and did everything, so... who knows?

In the meantime, I decided to try another route, which means teaching. I am currently studying to take a few exams and, hopefully, get into a course. If a company calls me, I will ponder the decision, but in the meantime, I’m focusing on my studies.

And writing, of course. Always writing.

Heck, this sudden change in my life gave me somehow the idea I was looking for for 10 years. I don’t know how, but I just... thought about it, wrote down a couple of things and bam, in less than one hour I had a working plot. Just like that. As if I haven’t spent YEARS thinking about how to make that fucking plot work. But that’s another story I will probably explain one day.

Have I left the fandom?

Of course I haven’t left the fandom, I’m writing FSS3!

And even after that, I will still keep an eye on Sanders Sides, waiting for the faithful day in which Mr. Sanders will finally decide to work on the season 2 finale. I will post other stuff too and other analyses I’ve planned long ago, but one part of me will still wait for the next update.

However, since FSS3 might take a while, I would like to start posting the episode analyses. But I’m also on a writing spree for FSS3 and I don’t want to lose the momentum by shifting my attention to something else.

So the answer is that, for now, I probably won’t post anything. The analyses should be proofread first, but I’m writing now and I don’t want to lose the moment. I will keep going on with FSS3 until I’ve finished it, then I will start proofreading and once an analysis will be ready, I will post it.

So if you’re still following me, please wait a little bit longer. If I start something, I finish it. All you need is just a bit of patience.

In the meantime, of course, you can ask me for updates, details or anything else. It might take me some time to reply or I wouldn’t be able to tell you everything, but I will try my best as always.

And, of course, thank you all for your time and your patience 💖

[chiclet-go-boom]

FFXIV: mid expansion check-in

Random things about my current obsession to help my day go by a little faster:

Did the Qitana Ravel last night. Turned out to be a little easier than the video walk through made it seem although once again, I absolutely suck at seeing the paralyze mechanic happening right in front of me. Its so weird, its not like its a tiny icon on a bar somewhere that yes, I also miss seeing most of the time (hello, Doom! how I have missed thee). It’s a big ass Sauron Eye glaring at you from dead center of the boss for fuck’s sake - yet every time I’m blasted with the damn thing and only afterwards do I go... oh, right. Eyeball of Terrible Hurt. my bad.

I peeked at the MSQ list and Qitana is somewhere in the middle of the expansion so I’m about halfway through Shadowbringers now.

I am not sure I like this, actually. I have been inhaling this story in large, sporadic chunks (too busy during the weekdays to sit down and immerse, so doing 6-10-12 hours chunks on the weekend) and now that I can technically see an end in sight, I... don’t want it to end. I really don’t. I want this to keep going forever.

I dinged 80 on my one and only Disciple class some hours back and had a quick crisis of faith before deciding that no, I am not going to stop to level another job up to 75 in order to keep reeling in the XP without wasting it into the aether. As much as I don’t want to finish the story, I also desperately need to know what’s going to happen more than I need the five levels of xp that I am going to consign to oblivion. I feel terrible about this. I’m also still throwing that xp into the void every time I complete a story quest, like a handful of salt over my shoulder. Forgive me my sins, O Brother, for my heart is weak even if my intentions pure.

Spent the last part of my play session last night carefully comparing best prices for level 510 gear across my data center services, and got my initial possible investment from 2.2 million (if I bought every slot on my server) down to just over a half million by comparison shopping. So feeling relatively good about that.

The jump from 405 iLevel gear to 510 is noticeable and amazing. I threw all the Crit materia I could into the slots that would take them, and Determination into the rest and now my crits pack a decent punch in comparison and they definitely come up way more often. Go, me! 

Apparently Tomestones of Allegory (and side acquisition of Tomes of Revelation that will happen in tandem) are the next thing to scrape together to get the 510′s up to 520′s where I will call it a day since Savage what? Thank you Yoshi-P for making a gearing system that a casual scrub like me can actually tackle as a reasonable project. I am a veteran of so many games where BiS isn’t a real thing at all, its just an acronym I know how to type.

For the record, I picked Archer/Bard way back at the beginning of my adventure and I love it just as much now as I did back then. I tell myself to try Dancer or Mechanic sometime and... I just want to shoot arrows, apparently. 

When I dinged 80 I got Apex Arrow which, okay, where do I fit this into the rotation again? and something else. What was it? Uh. Soul Gauge. Which tells me when Apex Arrow will be a blinding flash of deep hurt I guess. Another thing to pay attention to in the heat of battle (no wonder I miss Doom and Paralyze mechanics all the time).

Emet-Selch is growing on me like a particularly annoying fungus that some of me actually doesn’t want to scrub off. Please nobody spoil anything but man, that terrible part of me that sympathizes with the best villains hopes that when we get to the end of this, the guy survives. I want him to lean over my shoulder in Endwalker somewhere, offering completely unsolicited advice some more. I hated him at the start of this and now I still kind of hate him but I also want to chain him to a bed somewhere so he can make it up to me by using his tongue to convince me in much more clever ways.

I still miss my Lord of Winter. I came across his portrait in somebody’s house last night and I just... yeah. Stood there and felt my feels. Not even gonna feel guilty for having them, I just flat out miss him sometimes. Kudos to his actor, because I can still hear his voice.

Side note: I wish there were targeted quests afterwards that let you interact with the main characters of other expansions again in more than a passing their-character-model-is-in-this-scene-with-me way. Ser Aymeric. Lord Hi’en. Even being able to go back and clout some bandits with Raubahn would be amazing. I need filler episodes in this crime drama, damn it. 

That is it for now? I managed to waste like, an hour plinking this out between doing technical work so go, me for that!

[thewriterisalwayswrite]

One More

Summary:  Janus finds himself helping several idiots with their problems, and possibly accidentally falling for them as well.

Pairings: DLAMP

TW: Self-harm, EDs

Word count: 3264

AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted a fic to tumblr before, so let me know if I did something wrong. This is my @sanderssides-secretsanta gift to @count-woelaf. Hope you like it!

The quiet smack that came from the other side of the room as he whipped the script into the wall seemed to reverberate in his ears. Roman sunk slowly down against the wall, allowing his face to fall into his hands. 

This was the part of the theater he didn’t like. The part where he sat alone in the silent auditorium hours after the rest of the cast had left, crushing self-loathing taking over as he slipped out of character. 

Ah, if only his boyfriends were here. They were particularly good at helping him up, which usually involved spoiling him in ways he was confident he didn’t deserve. A smile graced his features at the pleasant memories, but it didn’t really help him now. Virgil, Patton and Logan had long since gone home, and here he was, likely the last person in the building, acting pathetic over nothing. 

He scrubbed at his face as he felt hot tears starting to leak out of his eyes, black makeup coming off on the sleeves of his white shirt. He sighed. Who knew if that would be coming out. 

He reached his arms up in the air, stretching out and letting out a little groan but quickly put them back down upon hearing one of the many doors creak open. He felt blood rush to his face, he was Roman Prince for goodness sake. He wasn’t supposed to be seen like this, crying in an empty theater. 

If it was possible for him to feel even worse, that was achieved when he saw who had opened the door. 

Head of hair and makeup crews for the production, half covered in burn scars, and painfully sarcastic. Roman had never been fond of the kid, and now even less so to have such a vulnerable moment intruded on. 

Roman swiped at his face one more time before donning his persona- Roman Prince. Lead of the show. Confident. Had every right to be sitting alone in the school auditorium at 10:46 PM if he so pleased. The only thing hinting that anything might have been out of the ordinary would be the dark streaks dripping down his face. “Can I help you?”

Janus’s only reaction was to raise one eyebrow. Roman scowled at him. 

Janus had to admit, this was an interaction he had never expected to be having. Roman Prince, so insistent on maintaining his clearly fabricated persona, vulnerable and crying on the ground after school. 

Not that Janus had any room to speak poorly of fabricated personas. 

He looked back at Roman, who was getting to his feet, seemingly a little wobbly. On instinct, Janus took his hand, helping him up. 

His eyes were grey. And they were much lovelier than Janus thought grey eyes had any right to be. Janus was fairly confident that the realization would have turned his face pink if not for the scarring. 

The ugly scarring, not that that was important right now. It did have its uses, though.

Roman shook his head out a little, shaking off the lingering heavy emotion and looking into Janus’s face. 

His eyes were still sad.

Janus sighed, unknowingly accepting responsibility for this boy tonight. “Did you drive here today?”

“Yes.”

Janus frowned. “Let me take you to your boyfriend’s house. You look like maybe you could use it, and you probably shouldn't be driving. You look wiped.”

Roman puffed up his chest, opening his mouth to argue before he deflated and nodded. 

Janus gave a soft smile. “Excellent. Which house did you want me to take you to?”

“Virgil?”

Janus cringed. He had… history with that boy, but he nodded. This was about Roman. He put a hand around the other’s shoulders, taking him out to the car.

When they’d arrived, Roman offered a quiet thank you, which rather surprised Janus. He felt he could count the number of times Roman had said thank you or apologized on one hand, but maybe he just… hadn’t been listening. Hadn’t been looking. 

Maybe he’d never really seen Roman before.

But then Roman closed the door, offering a little wave, and the illusion was shattered.

---

“Any particular reason our resident nerd is skipping lunch for the fourth time this week?”

Logan sighed as he turned his head away from his laptop and towards the boy who’d just slid into a seat next to him. “I have to finish this project. I would appreciate it if you could refrain from bothering me.”

Janus let out a faux-offended gasp, cementing in Logan the knowledge that his request would go unfulfilled. He sighed in annoyance as Janus tugged lightly at a few of his long braids, before spinning to face him. 

His hair is pretty.

Janus quickly banished the unwelcome thought, confused as to why he’d think something like that in the first place, but was quickly pulled back into reality by Logan’s smooth, deep voice. 

“Can I do something for you?”

“Yes. You can eat.”

“I’m not hungry. Besides, I am extremely busy.”

“That’s what you told your boys, huh? And they believed you?”

“Naturally. In our relationship, we share something called respect for boundaries. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”

Most would have been put off by Logan’s icy tone, but Janus just ignored it and continued. Though if you asked him, he hardly could have said why. He had no reason to care whether Logan Sanders ate lunch, whether his jeans continued to get loose or if his boyfriends knew and were helping. But for some odd reason, his brain was insisting he step in. 

Logan didn’t seem to be in the stage of even realizing that a problem existed yet, but fortunately Janus had a solution. He reached into his bag, producing a plastic water bottle, which he handed off to Logan. 

Logan took it, eyed it for a moment, considering, then removed the cap and downed over half before setting it back down, raking his fingernails over the smooth plastic. 

Ah. That made sense. 

“Bad sensory day?”

There was a moment of silence, and he wondered if he’d lost Logan before he heard a soft, “It’s hard.”

Janus sighed in relief. At least he had somewhere to go if he knew the cause of the issue. “And what are your safe foods?”

Logan looked surprised for a moment that Janus knew to ask such a question, before giving a hesitant answer. “Plain noodles. Bread.” 

“Excellent.”

He opened his phone, finding the nearest place to get plain noodles and placing an order. “There, so I did that, I’m gonna go get it for you. Sit tight.”

Logan froze. “That’s… hardly necessary, Janus. I don’t expect that of you.”

“I know,” he answered, standing and leaving before Logan could try to persuade him not to. 

When he returned, noodles in hand, Logan was looking back at his computer, if not with the same intensity as before. Janus looked over his shoulder, making sure everything was saved before shutting the laptop. 

“There. Food,” he informed him, setting the hot container in Logan’s lap. Logan looked at it. 

“How much?”

“You’re not paying me back. You’re not even thinking about it. Because you’re going to put that down your throat right the fuck now.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice, and Janus soon had a satisfied smirk on his face from how quickly Logan was eating. It barely took a few minutes for him to finish, and Janus took the plastic box, tossing it in the nearest trash. 

“And that was your first meal in how long?”

“Three days.”

“Let me rephrase. That was your first real meal in how long?”

Logan looked down, uncomfortable, before mumbling, “Nearly two weeks.”

“Mhm.”

He placed the water bottle back into Logan’s hand, who looked surprised to see it before finishing the rest and setting it down. 

Satisfied, Janus watched as Logan spun the ring on his finger, looking a little out of it. He supposed that was fine. Logan spent far too much time doing far too many things, it would be good for the guy to zone out once or twice. 

They sat in a comfortable silence until the bell rang, and Janus offered a hand, walking Logan to his next class. 

So what if that made him late for his?

---

Patton let out a quiet sigh as he poked at his left wrist, swollen red lines protesting the motion. He pulled his sleeve a bit farther up, baring more marks and noting and appreciating how the bright color looked in contrast to his pale skin. 

He smiled softly as he scratched at the scabs, opening them up a bit and getting his hands just a little sticky. He let out a gentle sigh as he leaned against the wall, once again lazily checking if there were any people nearby. He didn’t notice anyone, so he took the clear to reach into his pocket for the blade he’d stowed there. 

He couldn’t press too hard, after all, he was just standing in the cool morning air before going into the school building for class, leaning against the cold, rough brick. But he did slowly move it over his wrist, tracing patterns that just barely broke the skin, only the barest amount of blood beading up. They would still scab up, which was all he really needed. 

All he really needed was to see the red lines, put there by himself. Because he controlled what happened to his body. It was his. At least it should have been, and this was him taking it back. 

He allowed his thoughts to wander as he carved in the haphazard swirls. This was a temporary habit. Soon, his body would do what he wanted it to, it would be up to him, and he wouldn’t have to take back autonomy with blades and lighters anymore. Someday, he’d get hormones and even surgery, and he’d just live his life without thinking about throwing himself off a high place every time his binder shifted. 

Speak of the devil. He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the restrictive fabric. It was good enough, he supposed. Kept him off the edge of suicide. 

He banished the thought from his mind, humming a calming tune as he continued to slice up his forearm. 

He should have told his boyfriends, he knew. They knew he self-harmed, and they knew he was trans, but he had a hard time telling them when he had an episode. The way Virgil would panic and demand to see, the way Logan would go cold and lecture him, the way Roman would tear up, lose his big, comforting presence and just look scared. 

He didn’t like seeing them like that, and he especially didn’t like when it was his fault. So he didn’t tell them when he did it. 

He was zoning out most of his surroundings, focusing on the sting, when he felt a light touch on his shoulder that made him jump. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” came a familiar buttery-smooth voice whose tone said that he didn’t care if he startled him or not. Patton sighed, dropping the blade into his pocket and dragging his sleeves down to his wrists. 

He used to be scared of Janus, a fact he wasn’t proud of. He was so aloof, like Virgil but… more so. And horrible as he knew it was, the scarring had put him off in the past. 

Fortunately, he knew better now. He no longer did a double take upon seeing his face, and once, he’d even stared at him and noted that he was- he was really lovely. 

But that didn’t matter right now.

One of Janus’s hands, clad in fingerless gloves, carefully took Patton’s hand in his, pulling the sleeve back once again. 

Patton thought briefly about stopping him, but honestly, why bother? Janus already knew, and besides, his touch was so gentle. 

Patton barely knew what was happening before something wet, cold and painful was being dragged across his arm. He let out a pitiful whimper as he pulled it back and looked up at Janus, who rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm a little more roughly. 

“It’s just an alcohol wipe. You didn’t cut too deep, but infections are never fun.”

“Oh.” Patton felt his face heat up a little from embarrassment, of what he wasn’t certain. Janus was quickly finished, though, tossing the wipe and pulling his sleeve back down over the evidence. He glanced at his phone, noting that they still had nearly fifteen minutes before the bell. 

Janus allowed a moment of silence before asking, “Do your boys know?”

Patton shrugged. “I mean, they technically know that it’s a thing that happens, but…” He trailed off, but Janus understood. 

“I see. And why don’t they?”

“Makes me uncomfortable.”

“Ah.”

Janus allowed them to fall into silence once more, before placing his hand on Patton’s shoulder again. “All they want is to help you.”

For a second he wasn’t sure Patton was going to respond at all, before he heard a faint, “I know.” He was staring intently at the ground. 

Janus had always been good at gauging situations, and this was no exception. He slowly snaked an arm around Patton’s shoulders, who let out a soft sigh. 

Janus carefully adjusted his voice to sound softer. More comforting. “Would it help if I told them for you?”

Patton didn’t look up, but he nodded. 

“Good. That’s very good, Patton. I’m proud of you.” 

Ugh. He cringed at his own words. When had he become so soft for these four? Wasn’t he supposed to be ‘cool’, or something along those lines? Hardened, at least. 

He discreetly pulled out his phone, shooting a message to the other three boys, the ones he’d grown too fond of for his own good. 

The responses were immediate, and upon being informed of their location, he carefully led Patton away. It was early in the morning, but Patton looked so, so drained.

It wasn’t long before he reached them. Roman and Logan, and thank goodness, no Virgil. Virgil was not fond of him. The two that were there looked really concerned. 

Janus, surprisingly enough, found himself reluctant to hand off Patton. 

Damn it. I’ve grown protective. 

Then again, it was practically impossible to see Patton vulnerable and not become attached and fiercely protective. No wonder he was dating three amazing guys. 

Janus assured himself that Patton had what he needed, and in an amazing show of self-control, gave Patton a gentle push towards the other two. 

He quickly latched onto Roman, already crying softly. Janus watched as Roman rubbed Patton’s back and stroked his fingers through his hair. He knew he shouldn’t be watching, that he should go, but Roman lifted his head and mouthed, “Thank you.”

Janus felt heat creeping into his cheeks, so he offered a signature finger-wave and turned on his heel, only to realize after he was out of their sight that his class was on the other side of the school. 

---

Virgil sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he finally exited the school building, blinking in confusion upon finding it dark. He hadn’t been that long, had he? Only had to retake an exam he’d done poorly on, and though algebra wasn’t his best subject, he’d thought he shouldn’t need more than an hour or two. 

He opened up his phone, obviously the first people he messaged were his boyfriends. He didn’t have a ride, and his father wouldn’t come for him this late.

Unfortunately, they weren’t available. Any of them. Unfortunate, but not the end of the world. He could always try Remy. 

Who was busy. 

Or Emile.

Who didn’t reply. 

He didn’t like Roman’s brother, but he was running out of options. Unfortunately, Remus couldn’t come either. 

Virgil glared angrily at his screen as he realized who he needed to ask. 

Slowly, he managed to convince himself to send a concise text. He had an answer not two minutes later.

“I’ll be there.”

He sighed, whether in relief or in fear he wasn’t certain.

The car pulled up shortly after, and Virgil let himself in. Janus drove away quickly, seemingly as ready as Virgil was for this drive to be over. 

They sat in a painful silence for a few minutes, Janus breaking it before immediately cringing at himself. 

“I like the purple.”

Virgil’s hand automatically moved to his hair, as he touched the newly dyed locks. “Thanks.”

The two lapsed back into silence. 

“Left here, right?”

“Yep.”

Virgil was a little surprised that Janus still remembered the drive. It had been awhile. 

They waited again, the quiet deafening. Janus finally pulled up to Virgil’s driveway, waiting for him to get out.

Virgil hesitated. 

“I missed you.”

Janus’s head snapped towards, Virgil, confusion and terrified hope. 

“It was a long time ago. I don’t hate you. Thanks for the ride.” he quickly got out, the breath of cold air assaulting Janus, but he ignored it as the door clicked shut.

Janus did not drive away for a very long time. 

---

It was Logan who reached out to him first. 

It had been a few days since his last interaction with any of the four, but oddly enough, Logan invited him to lunch.

He had half a mind to decline. Show them how much he cared. He didn’t want to sit through an awkward lunch, fifth-wheeling to boys he didn’t want to admit he cared for. 

Of course, his fingers did not listen and he ended up replying with an acceptance. 

Damn his fingers. Always knowing his true intentions. 

He frowned at the building, the restaurant he was meant to be meeting them in. 

His hands had never been this clammy before. Even when shamelessly flirting, he was usually able to keep his composure. But something about Logan, Roman, Patton and Virgil had him nervous. 

He finally managed to exit his car, entering the building and finding them, sliding into a seat. They were all already there. He gave a little wave. His face was burning, but at least they couldn’t see it. 

Roman gave him a big smile, one that looked more nervous than Janus had ever seen it, and Logan and Patton both offered a greeting. Then Logan asked some superficial question, and they fell into small talk. Which, oddly enough, Janus didn’t feel excluded from. This, oddly enough, didn’t at all feel like intruding on a relationship. Confusing.

His confusion was resolved several minutes later when Patton coughed and nudged Logan expectantly, who turned to Janus. 

Janus didn’t think he’d ever seen Logan look anxious before, but he did. They all did, and it was scaring him. 

“We, um- we had something to ask you.”

Janus nodded. 

“You wanna date us?”

The slightly more brash question came from Roman. Of course. 

Janus froze. “I, um, I…” His hand flew up to the scarred side of his face, almost on reflex. Patton gave a soft smile, placing his hand over Janus’s. 

“We like you, J. A lot. Every part of you. So what do you say?”

“I…” This had to be the first time he’d lost his perfectly constructed composure.

The answer was on the tip of his tongue. He glanced over at Virgil.

Virgil gave a tiny nod, and that was it. 

Janus frantically wiped at the tears that seemed to be coming without his permission as he nodded his head. 

“Yes, I...yes.”

When he looked back up at them, they were all smiling at him like he’d hung the stars.